#do whatever you can to smile today folks

[ghostsxagain]

//merry christmas to all those that celebrate today! also happy hanukkah, happy kwanzaa and all the love to every other holiday that happens this time of year that I have not listed. if this is a hard time of year for you (as I'm sure it is for many of us) then I'm sending hugs & kisses to all of you, if you so consent. hang in there lovelies, you got this//

[thehighladywrites]

ACOTAR MEN X READER, SITTING ON THEIR LAP

✩ summary: different scenarios where you find yourself sitting on them

✩ warnings: nsfw, 18+, mentions of sex, mentions of self-doubt, kissing, begging, gossiping, fluff, smut, crack, fun times and soft Eris😭💗

✩ amara’s note: the original cassian hc was so long that i had to stop myself bc i was thirsting and it turned into a regular oneshot lmaooo😭 anyways enjoy babes!!!!💗💗💗

reblogs are really appreciated! :D

RHYSAND

No matter how angry you and Rhys get or how petty the fight is, you two always end up holding hands, even while yelling at each other.

Sitting in his lap while you two argue about random, non important stuff is a standard

You guys just don’t do the whole “no touching” thing

Today, the argument was over who cooks better, both of you bickering pettily.

“Listen, I love you a lot, but the kitchen isn’t your best friend. It's crazy how you can burn an empty pot.”

“Maybe you’re crazy,” you retort, arms crossed over your chest as you step closer to him, leaning against his desk in his office.

He keeps arguing with you, going back and forth, while pushing his chair back from the desk to make room for you.

“Whatever, Rhys. I don’t even need to cook when I can summon anything. It’s stupid, and you’re being unfair,” you mutter as you put your hands on his shoulders and plop down in his lap, subconsciously warming at the way he holds your waist and places one hand on your back to keep you steady.

He suppresses a smile, scratching the back of his head as he looks up at your pouting self. “You’re absolutely right, sweetheart. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course, you’re an amazing chef,” he concedes, his tone laced with affection.

“Awww, come with me while I make you something,” you say, flashing him an oblivious smile.

“Oh! Um, you sure we shouldn't order something or..?” he asks nervously, his voice getting higher as he kisses you.

You slip out of his lap and hurry downstairs to plan his meal, assuring him not to worry about ordering anything and to just come down for his favorite meal.

“Dear Gods,” he whispers as he gets up, a mix of worry and fear in his voice.

ERIS

Eris had been stressed out for a few weeks now. Nothing you said seemed to make a difference.

He was dealing with his father’s death, ruling a new court as the heir, and inheriting the High Lord powers. Your heart ached for him. You wanted to be there for him, giving him hugs and words of encouragement, but you were not on that level yet

Today had been the most stressful day yet, resulting in him shutting down and locking himself up in his bedroom.

“Eris, are you okay? Can I please come in?” you knock gently on the wooden door, voice hushed and gentle.

After a few moments of silence, you hear him shuffling behind the door until he opens it very slightly.

He is shirtless, only in a pair of pants. You manage to catch a glimpse of his tired, amber eyes before he turns around to lie in his bed.

The room looks clinically clean, the only disturbance being Eris’s rugged appearance.

Without saying a word, you walk over to him and give him a hug. It’s a long, warm hug that tells him everything he doesn’t allow himself to hear: you’re there for him.

It takes a few moments for him to hug you back, but when he does, he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, bringing you into his lap.

Only after an hour of silence does he speak

“I feel like i’m stuck. These powers are killing me, the board is fucking annoying, the folk believe i’m wicked and cruel and i have no idea what to do about anything.”

He looks up at you with desperate eyes, “Do you believe I’m truly wicked?”

You shake your head in honesty. “No, honey. I have not met anyone as smart, kindhearted and brave as you. Others do not know you like I do but they should,” you whisper, hands going through his tussled hair. “You’ve been hiding behind your mask for too long, Eris. Let people see the real you.”

The room goes quiet, the only sound being the beating of your hearts.

Slowly his lips meet yours in a new and experimental kiss. He stares up at you with his pupils blown but before you can apologize and get off his lap, he kisses you again and locks his arm around you

“Thank you,” he whispers between heating kisses, “Thank you, beautiful.”

CASSIAN

“Hi there sugar, what can I do for you?” Cassian asks sweetly as he flicks your nose with his finger, happy that you ran into his office and immediately plopped down on his lap

“Can you fuck me?” you ask, frustrated with the lack of dick lately.

His eyes widen slightly at your words, then he slowly cracks a handsome smile. “Gods. How inappropriate of you,” he teases, the amusement clear in his voice.

His teasing almost makes you sob. This was totally NOT the time. You almost roll your eyes before realizing he will so not give in if you give him that

“Cassian, i’m begging you. I want, no- need to be fucked. Please, i’m losing hearing in my left ear,” you beg as you get closer and sit in his lap, rubbing your hands all over his chest

He looked incredibly good, almost unfairly so. Cassian’s jaw and chin had grown scruffy in a ruggedly masculine way that made him look older and even more attractive.

A week without seeing him had only heightened your weakness for his body, making you throb.

“Losing hearing? You must be really dying for me, huh? Alright then. I’ll let you ride,” he smirks at you while unbuckling his belt.

He finally fucking let’s you fuck, hitting spots that makes you go fuzzy brained.

You make him promise to never be gone again before going for another ride, satisfied when he breathlessly promises.

LUCIEN

There is not a bigger shit-talking couple in Prythian than you two

One look between you two is enough.

Someone’s being annoying? You share an annoyed glance. Someone’s being rude? You share a baffled glance. Something’s juicy’s happening? You share a glance that says you will so talk about it when you get home.

“— and he has the audacity to two-time her? He’s lucky to find even one person willing to date him,” you gossip, lounging in Lucien’s lap, your voice dripping with disbelief.

“You’re not going to believe this, but this isn’t his first time. He did that to Tamlin’s cousin too,” Lucien adds, his tone filled with incredulity.

“No way,” you gasp in disbelief, shaking your head as the gossip sinks in.

“Yeah, apparently this guy fucks around in all courts and cheats on anyone willing to stomach. What a fucking loser, honestly,” Lucien nods in agreement, disdain evident in his voice. “The sick bastard gets off on it.”

“That reminds me, guess what I heard about Rhys in Rita’s yeaterday,” Lucien prompts, leaning in with a sly grin, clearly ready to share some gossip.

“Some males and females were talking about Rhys, saying he's replaced Feyre with a clone,” Lucien whispers, his tone laced with disdain. “And get this— they think her transformation from human to fae is fake and that there is no way she could possibly be the mother of Nyx.”

“A clone? They’ll say anything these days,” you exclaim, raising an eyebrow incredulously.

“That's exactly what I'm saying! They're probably just making shit up out of thin air,” Lucien replies, nodding in agreement.

“I wouldn't put it past them,” you say, shaking your head as you reach for a biscuit, happy to be sitting and gossiping with your love.

AZRIEL

Azriel loves when you sit on his lap.

It makes him feel safe and relaxed knowing you're close to him.

It's something he does every day when he comes home - having you in his lap. Sometimes you both sit quietly, other times you talk or fuck or cuddle, depending on how you’re feeling.

Azriel especially likes the fuck part.

He loves the part where you sit on his lap while he works. If you’re good, he’ll bend you over his desk and fuck you. If not, he still fucks you but he does it with no mercy

He makes you sit on his dick and tells you not to move and inch or you will be edged for hours, not being allowed to cum once

Fucking torture is what it is honestly

“Stop moving around so much, i can’t focus.”

“Do you blame me? You’ve buried your dick in me, of course i’m moving. Maybe do something about that.”

He raises his eyebrows at your snarky comment. If it’s something he didn’t need today it was sass.

His day was quite shitty and all he needed was his sweet mate who would kiss away his problems and take his dick perfectly

Azriel smiled slightly as he put his pen down. He would take out his frustrations on you today.

“You want to be fucked? Let’s fuck,” he says in a low tone

In the end, all his papers are scattered, all pens on the floor.

He is relaxed and all smiley while you’re on death’s door💗

[jyoongim]

~Blood & BLISS~

Human!Alastor x wife!Reader

Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life! fluff, smut, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy,  blood, murder, secrets 

chapter two

Synopsis: Marrying New Orleans famous radio host had been a shocker to everyone. You, a southern belle from an esteemed family, had somehow managed to catch the attention of the mysterious bachelor. 

Your wedding was all in the papers and talk of the town, even though the ceremony was rather private.

You quickly settled in as the homemaker as Alastor brought home the dough and took care of you. 

It was a dream come true.

But Alastor was strange, even to you and you were his wife, but you brushed it off as him just being a man.  You had nothing to complain about. You lived in a nice big house, had the finest luxuries, and Alastor would dote on you. What wasn’t to love?

Well… all those things were nice, but you were starting to crave a family with your husband.

You knew of Alastor’s upbringing and had an inkling that children might not be an option…but Alastor wouldn’t deny you what you desired most would he? Of course not ma belle.

Alastor prided himself on how people often wondered about him. The renowned radio host, who the public rarely saw. He was a mystery to many. He frequented jazz lounges and often could be found drinking whiskey as he listened to the Mimzy gossip about the latest news.

He,  himself was shocked when he met you, the prettiest thing in the city. He had to have you. He knew you were the one.

Like the gentleman he was, he sent you flowers and love letters to begin courting you. He never tired of how shy you were around him. 

It wasn’t long before he asked your father for your hand and the two of you got hitched.

And what a wedding it was! he spared no expense to your disapproval.

Alastor was the epitome of what every husband inspired to be! 

Doting, providing, and attentive.

But he had a secret he kept from his little wife…

Can he maintain control over his domestic affairs and his sinister ones?

Soft jazz played in the background as you busied around the kitchen preparing dinner. The sizzling of the oil carried the scent of fried chicken as you chopped collards and added them to another pan to fry.

You hummed along to whatever song was playing as you cooked.

You took the chicken out of the grease, poured some of it in a can for later and used the rest to make cornbread. You stirred the collards a bit, adding pepper and a little salt before turning the stove off. You glanced at the clock; 6pm, Alastor should be coming home soon.

After putting everything in pretty dishes and wrapping it in foil you sighed tiredly as you finally got off your feet, plopping down on a couch.

You almost wanted to go back into the kitchen and clean up, but thought to just wait after dinner to do so. 

You perked as your radio made a noise, static as if the channel had changed, before the voice of your husband came through.

”Well folks that is all. I have for you tonight! I hope you enjoyed today’s broadcast and I will see you tomorrow. I wouldn’t want to be late for dinner nonono haha. Until next time!”

You smiled, feeling happy he wasn’t going to stay at the studio all night.

With that in mind, you quickly ran upstairs to freshen up, wanting to greet your husband without the smell of grease clinging to you.

“I’m home!” A voice called as the sound of the front door closing had you rushing downstairs.

Alastor was taking off his coat, when you greeted him “Oh let me take that” you smiled, grabbing his coat to put it away. He let out a relieved sigh as he removed his shoes and put them by the door. Once comfortable, his long arms were around your waist, pulling you into a kiss “And how was my beautiful wife today hmm?” He asked bringing a dainty hand to his lips. You giggled “Oh nothing worth mentioning. How was work today? I heard you signing off. I hate that I missed tonight’s broadcast” you mused, untying his bow tie. Alastor hummed “oh you know same ole same ole, through I will say I got a lot of fan mail today” he chuckled as you rolled your eyes. He took a whiff of the air and grinned “Hmm looks like I actually made it in time for dinner”

You both made your way to the kitchen and you immediately went to fix his plate, while he got glasses out of the cabinet and some red wine.

Alastor practically had drool coming out of his mouth as the smell of food wafted into his nose. You took a seat across from him and smiled. “My my my dear what a meal youve prepared tonight!” He commented as he took a bite out of the cornbread, moaning in delight.

It always filled your heart with happiness seeing Alastor eat your food. When you first got married, you didn’t have a clue on how to cook. It was rather embarrassing, but you had grown up with personal cooks.

But Alastor didn’t mind teaching you, and soon enough you were whipping up delicious meals that filled his stomach, rather than upset it.

Dinner was quiet as the two of you enjoyed each others company, Alastor making comments about the lastest gossip he had heard and you catching him on the neighborhood gossip. “Oh before I forget,  Mimzy wants to know if you wanted to swing by the lounge this weekend. Something about I keep you to myself too much” Alastor laughed, swiping at his mouth. You laughed, that sounded like Mimzy. Always hoping to get a chance at you singing on stage so she could make a few extra bucks. “Well tell ‘er not this weekend, I have plans to host a few of the ladies for book club. Rosie is sure to have some gossip I’ve missed.” 

Alastor quirked a brow “You sure dear? I fear Mimzy will chew me a new one if she don’t get to see ou” You mulled it over “Well book club usually don’t take that long and its during tea time so I guess I don’t mind gracing the lounge with my presence” you giggled, getting up and taking your empty dishes to the sink. Alastor followed you and quickly swatted your hands as you reached to turn the sink on. 

“Now now my dear, you spent all evening cooking the least I can do is wash the dishes. The chef shouldn’t cook and clean” he nudged you away from the sink as you pouted.

It never ceased to amazed you that Alastor took on household chores. Most husbands had their wives cook and clean, but not your Alastor.

He didn’t like you to tire out from maintaining the home all day.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek in thanks and told him you’ll be upstairs getting ready for bed.

You had just finished rolling your hair when Alastor came up to your bedroom. You sighed as you sunk into the cool cotton sheets, finally relaxing for the day. You didn’t realized you had quickly fell asleep until feeling Alastor slide into bed beside you, arm pulling you to tuck you into his side and rest your head on his chest.

You happily cuddled into him, breathing in his scent as the sound of his heartbeat lulled you back to sleep.

A yawn passed your lips as began to fall asleep

”Goodnight” 

”Sleep tight dear”

”Don’t let the bedbugs bite”

”haha see you in the morning light love” he whispered pressing a kiss to your forehead as you sighed, chest heaving in deep breaths.

Alastor smiled at your sleeping face; how lucky was he to have a sweet wife who worked so hard while he was gone. His eyes grew heavy as he listened to your soft snores.

What bliss. He wouldn’t give this up for anything in the world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NOTE: aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh why and how did my mind conjure this when I have other things to write eeeeeeehhhh!!!!!!!

Anyway….this is gonna be ANOTHER short story hehehe. Since I wrote it on a whim it might take some time for me to post the next part but I hope y’all enjoy it nevertheless!

Remember to comment on the pinned post as I have a hard time finding everyone to tag since y’all are scattered on different posts!

if i missed anyone my bad!!!!

@nightshadelm @th3-st4r-gur1 @amurtan @lunaramune @southern-bayou-beau @monstersealclubber @certifiedcrybabyyy @karolinda007-blog @theveiledlibrarian @simphornies @yourdoorisunlocked @nettaw @purplecatsandhearts @catherine1206 @jellibean2018 @thewinchestah @wonderlandangelsposts @alishii @readergirlstuff @whydohumansss @missgurlsstuff @yuzurixx @darkovergrownforestnymph @dasimp777 @markster666 @alastorsgirl48 @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @preciousbabypeter @alastwhore666 @strawberrypimp666 @stawberrypimpsimp @queenariesofnarnia @peachedtvs @peachedtv @tpks @siiv3r @hazelfoureyes @okay-babe @aconfusedworld @chewbrry @altruisticalastor @yunimimii @dievia3 @alastorsdear @alastorsdarlingdoe @t0byisher3 @dennsfz @twismare @nanami1chu @yoongibabs @menthatilove @smoky000

[suna-cerely-yours]

Break Point ft k. sakusa

synopsis: tennis!au -you shouldn't be letting your boyfriend's rival feel you up in the locker room, and you certainly shouldn't be getting on your knees for him, especially given the history between the two of you

warnings : mdni, smut, fem! bodied reader, reader has she/her pronouns, degradation, cheating, oral (m! recieving), public sex, pussy jobs, hair pulling, reader is called a good girl

song rec : fetish -selena gomez

"and we're back folks! that was some first set- of course, we are in the US Open semi-finals, and it is sakusa and terushima on the court!"

the crowd roars as you adjust your sunglasses and pick up your honey deuce to take a sip, eyes trained on terushima sitting on the bench with a towel over his head. unwillingly, you find your gaze pulled towards the player on the other side of the umpire's chair, sakusa kiyoomi uncapping a bottle of electrolytes before tilting his head back and bringing the bottle to his mouth. you take another sip, watching the strong column of his throat move as he gulps his water.

"this infamous rivalry's brought everyone together today. over in terushima's box, is, of course, his beautiful girlfriend- joined by his high-school friends!"

you raise your head and smile, raising your honey deuce as the cameras pan over to your seat at the commentator's words. in the row behind you terushima's friends holler and whistle, waving a banner with his face on it.

"terushima's partner is pretty private, so it's a real treat that we managed an interview with her before the match- she's had some fun stuff to say about this rivalry and today's match."

you watch as you pop up on the big screen, dressed in the blue and white dress you'd picked out specially for this match- makeup and hair fresher than it currently was. the string of diamonds around your throat winks in the light as you nod at whatever the interviewer was saying.

"what do you think about sakusa? he's given your boyfriend quite a good amount of grief this season."

the video-you laughs at the question, red lips curling upward. "well, he's been a household name for some time now. yuji thinks more about him than about me, if we're being frank."

"do you think his victories are earned? sakusa's won 5 out of the 6 times they've met so far, and their rivalry goes way back to their juniors days."

"sakusa's definitely a really good player, and he's improved a lot since his defeat at last year's wimbledon final. i- we, yuji and i both think he's someone to watch out for, especially if he can clean up his net play a little more. he, for sure, has the potential to surpass the big 3."

the interviewer raises her eyebrows at your admission, and Arthur Ashe clamors in real time. you sink your teeth into your lower lip, as the other screen shows sakusa's reaction to your words. as usual, the man is stoic, showing no signs of having heard your praise. however, his sharp eyes are focused on the screen showing your interview, having stopped all his inter-set preparations.

"and what about terushima? do you think he can surpass the big 3?"

you're silent for a touch too long before showering yuji with praise, however it doesn't seem like anyone except you had noticed the pause. yuji's grinning from his bench on the court making kissy faces at the screen. he has everyone's attention.

you swallow, shifting your focus back to sakusa, who's no longer looking at the screen, but has his eyes trained on you, a faint smirk evident on his face. well, that pause hadn't escaped everyone's notice. kissing your teeth, you avert your eyes- taking another sip of your honey deuce. arthur ashe titters one final time before silence settles again as the players take their positions, sakusa's serve.

"and at 144 mph that's this season's fastest serve yet! i would not want to be the one who faces that serve, that's for sure."

you lean forward, taking off your sunglasses as the men enter the fifth and final set, sakusa breaking in the first game itself. you, as well as the rest of the centre court, watch with bated breaths as the game gets tense- so focused that you completely miss the dark clouds rolling in and the thunder rumbling ominously. there's not a moment of notice as the sky opens up, the downpour brutal. fat, cold raindrops assault your senses as you scramble for cover- dress already sticking and hair frizzing. making your way down the stairs into the gallery, you hear the commentators announce the official postponement of the match.

going down a level further, you push open the double doors to reach the locker rooms. surprisingly, there's no one around. there's a clang of a locker closing somewhere, and you walk towards the sound- your heels clacking loudly. turning the corner, you freeze as a pale, muscular back- scattered with moles- comes into view. sakusa kiyoomi stands with his back to you, shirtless, with his shorts riding low and a towel slung over his shoulder. at your sharp intake he turns, hooded eyes pinning you in place.

"sorry, i um- i'll just-"

you shouldn't be here. (you've been here too many times to be anywhere else.)

he says nothing but keeps his eyes on you as he towels his hair. your gaze unconsciously strays to his biceps as they flex at the motion, before snapping back to his face. he stares at you for a moment longer, before throwing his towel back into the locker and slamming the door shut. you feel heat creeping up your cheeks as he turns to you again.

"why are you here again?"

"sorry, i just- i thought-"

he keeps quiet, cocking his head to the side, waiting for you to continue. you stammer once more before shutting up.

"sorry. i'll leave."

you feel a lump in your throat at his curt words, but you have no right to be upset. you know that very well. you're almost at the corner when his words cause you to stop.

"the big three?"

you pause, memories of younger kiyoomi talking about his dreams flashing through your mind. swallowing, you turn around.

"you know you could do it. coming from me it means nothing."

"nothing?"

you pause again, feeling your neck prickle with heat against his intense stare. he hasn't moved an inch, yet you feel cornered- like prey.

"it should mean nothing."

he scoffs at this, taking a step closer.

"is that what helps you sleep at night? do you say it before you slip your hand into your panties imagining it's my dick inside you, or do you say it after- as long as there's no guilty conscious right?"

you blink at his words, before retorting sharply, "kiyo you can't speak to me like that, watch your words-"

"so i'm kiyo again? what happened to sakusa? you said it so sweetly in the interview. i'm a regular at your perfect white picket fence household, right?"

you step back, hitting a locker, unaware that you'd been backing up. he's in front of you before you can blink, pressing up against you, one hand gripping your waist the other flat against the locker beside your head. leaning closer his breath fans across your face as he pants, still breathing deeply from his match.

"you show up- as you always do when he's playing against me- wearing the dress i bought you, the dress i fucked you in- wrapped in diamonds i bought you, diamonds that rest where my hands used to-

and that's fine. that's perfectly fine. but showing up here? in this locker room? and saying your words mean nothing to me?"

you whimper, eyes falling shut as he grips your face, smearing your lipstick with his thumb. the scent of his cologne mixed with his sweat crowds your senses, dimming them. slipping his thumb into your mouth he presses against your tongue. you obediently part your mouth, pressing your thighs to relieve some of the pressure. sakusa scoffs again, slotting his thigh between your legs, allowing you to press down and rut against him.

"what a slut, do you get wet like this for everyone? or am i just special baby? do you let every fucker who plays against your darling boyfriend feel you up in the locker room? does the idea of you getting fucked by someone he'll lose against turn him on too?"

your eyes roll back as you moan, sliding a hand to your breast, before it's snatched back by kiyoomi, pinned against the locker. his touch is too familiar for you to consider him as sakusa, he's always been your kiyo.

"you're going to get off humping my leg like a dog in heat baby, i know you can do it," he coos, grip on your face tightening.

you whimper at his words, grinding down harder. everything feels so hot, with kiyoomi pressing his body against you- weight heavy. his scent is everywhere.

"actually- i don't think you deserve that."

your eyes fly open as he shifts his thigh and moves away, leaving you cold and slumped against the lockers. you breathe heavily, fingers scrambling for purchase behind you to keep yourself upright.

you open your mouth to say something, anything- but you draw blank. what can you even say?

kiyoomi stands still in front of you, arms crossed- but with his shorts tenting it's clear he's not entirely unaffected. his dark eyes remain fixed on you, but he says nothing. the two of you remain suspended like this for a few heartbeats. you see his adam's apple bob as he swallows once, twice- before taking a step back.

"you should leave. he's probably waiting for you."

you should leave. he's definitely waiting for you.

you nod slowly, straightening your spine. taking a deep breath, you reach for your bag which you had dropped sometime during and dig through it for a tissue. your makeup must be a mess.

glancing back at kiyoomi you pause- watching as he sinks down on a bench and leans back to rest on his elbows. his legs part as he breathes, chest rising- erection still straining against his shorts.

the sight is so familiar, your heart aches. your mouth feels dry as he drops his head back, revealing the strong column of his neck.

your panties stick uncomfortably, pussy still throbbing. your breasts feel heavy as you drop your bag again, turning towards him. heat trickles down your spine as you reach for the zipper of your dress, unable to move your eyes from his physique. your dress pools by your feet as you step out of it, now dressed in nothing but your panties, heels, and his diamonds.

kiyoomi still hasn't moved.

teeth sinking into your lower lip, you reach to unbuckle your heels, your brain on autopilot. now barefoot, you pad towards kiyo, sinking to your knees in between his parted legs.

you should leave.

you reach forward to mouth at kiyo's erection, pressing open-mouthed kisses on his cock through the fabric. above you kiyo still hasn't moved, but he sighs, carding a hand through your hair. pressing a hand to his thigh for balance, you move to pull him out, continuing to mouth at his shaft. leaning forward you take him in your mouth, slowly easing him in until you feel him hit the back of your throat. eyes watering, you breath slowly, sucking him the way you know he likes it. you feel kiyo tug at your roots, and you look up at him, eyes locking. his eyes are hooded and impossibly dark, mouth bitten red as he pants.

"my pretty girl, so good for me, only for me," he slurs, grip on your hair tightening. you moan, taking him deeper, swallowing him. kiyo groans, head tipping back again. you slip your hand into your panties, desperate for some friction, moaning again. before you can move however, you find yourself being lifted straight up onto his lap.

now straddling him, your pussy slides against his dick, as you grasp his shoulders for purchase.

"you just couldn't stay away could you? what a filthy little whore. what would those reporters say if they could see you now, hmm? tennis's favourite girlfriend is nothing but a cock hungry slut, but not for her boyfriend, no- for her boyfriend's rival," he coos.

"kiyo, fuck," you whimper, everything is too much.

he moves you again, this time standing up to push you against the locker once again. your legs tremble as you lean back. he slaps your tits, as you jerk, gasping.

"kiyokiyokiyo, please," you whine, unsure what exactly you want him to do. yanking your panties down, he pumps his cock once, before tapping the head against your clit. bullying the head between your lips, he groans, rutting against you.

slapping your tits once again, he grips his cock, inhaling sharply- and he cums all over you pussy and panties. you whine again, reaching to pull his head down, needing to kiss him.

"fuck. fuck, you're so-," he pants into your neck. you nod deliriously, you need to cum so badly it hurts.

the doors clang loudly.

"yo, sakusa, you in here? the weather's cleared up, they're sayin' if it's cool with the both of us we can continue in 30 minutes."

the two of you spring apart, alarm bells ringing in your mind as you pull up your panties. rushing to your dress, you struggle to put it on.

kiyo shoots you one last look, before calling out, "sure man, you mind letting them know on my behalf? i'll be right up."

the footsteps stop just you're stumbling into your shoes.

"of course my guy, no problem."

the doors open again, and you sigh in relief.

"say, you wouldn't have seen my girl anywhere, would you? she's disappeared."

you freeze again, but sakusa's moving past you now, rounding the corner with his tennis bag hung over his shoulder.

"nah, haven't seen her."

[daisystwistedgarden]

if you can't date for love, date for money.

ruggie bucchi remembers receiving this advice well. back when the news of his acceptance into night raven college felt like a dream, when the congratulations and well wishes from his neighbors back home clung to him like the subtle glow of streetlights at night. those days felt... fragile. breakable. there was a subtle tension in the air as he pondered whether the haughty halls of the academy would change him into someone he didn't recognize. he knew hunger pangs and cool nights on the savannah, not whatever bullshit academia had in store.

some of the folks his age-- deeper into their twenties, a bridge he had just begun to cross, with more life experience and cynicism under their belts-- had made jokes about him getting hitched to someone with enough money to give him a good life. money. status. no worries about where your next meal is coming from or if treating a broken leg can leave you homeless. hey ruggie. make sure you pick real good, okay? maybe if your in-laws are rich enough, you can get us all out of here!

ruggie was never one to have romantic fantasies. his ideal partner had a fat wallet and a retirement fund, a formless blob devoid of anything other than the sense of security only money can provide. rich kids just didn't get it. the scars of poverty ran deep.

why, then, did he not follow that advice given to him all that time ago?

his feet carried him across the icy steps of ramshackle, dry knuckles shoved into a threadbare coat, letting the puff of warm air from his tired sigh keep his nose from freezing over. he let himself into ramshackle dorm with a customary knock. the warm crackle of the fireplace greeted him, chasing away the clod draft he'd brought in as he left the entryway.

"i got some extra thaumarks from leona today." he announced upon spotting you in the common room.

"and i got my paycheck from the mostro lounge!"

your smile was infectious. an involuntary shyeheehee left his lips as you scrambled up to your feet, throwing your arms around him in greeting as he teased you for your eagerness.

getting paid was the excuse you had for making dinner together biweekly. when the strain of bills felt less heavy and spirits were lifted, you'd venture out to sam's shop and pick up something to make together. it was a night of luxury, of indulgence, the two of you feeling spoiled to have a meal your classmates would more than likely scoff at.

you were not the rich suitor of ruggie's dreams. magicless and lost in a new world, you'd managed to scrape by doing odd jobs and living in the rickety shack known as ramshackle dorm, all without complaint. he saw himself in you. scrappy. clever. there was an optimism in you that enticed ruggie to stay, even if it meant scraping by for the foreseeable future. "date for money, not love" was a proverb lost to the wind the moment you held a spoon up to his lips and urged him to try whatever you'd been mixing in that pot across the kitchen.

... well, not all advice is good advice. ruggie would rather spend the rest of his life shoving thaumarks into mason jars with you than in some spoiled rich person's mansion, anyways.

a/n: ruggie bucchi, contender for Most Boyfriend twst character of all time

[bunnys-kisses]

the wolff's mouse

torger "toto" wolff

cw: smut/pwp, wife!reader, nicknames, drinking/drunk!reader, daddy kink, size kink, ditzy!reader, age gap (20s/50s), missionary, dirty talk, pet names

bunny says: this is for the server, folks!

the liquor was smooth through your body as you walked along the edge of the pool. you were all giggles as you tried to keep your balance.

"maus." you heard toto's voice as you were moved away from the pool against his chest.

you held onto the front of his white shirt and giggled. you looked up and smiled, "wolf-y." you tried to get up on your tiptoes to kiss him. forgetting that reality that you were in the middle of a pool party.

someone had too many sangrias and was a ditzy little drunk mess by the pool. toto almost found it adorable, if you weren't so close to the pool. he didn't want his little mouse to hit her head.

he cupped the back of your head for a moment and pressed your face to his chest. you whined a little in his shirt as the rush of being drunk raced to your head. poor little mouse.

"what are you doing, maus?" he asked as he pulled you further away from the pool and towards the patio chairs. he set you down and crouched down beside you.

"i wanted to swim." you chirped and kicked out your feet a little. which only made you devolve into giggles. you were painfully adorable.

you were dressed for the occasion, in a pastel yellow and dark blue printed bikini that happily showed off your curves to the attendees at the party. you could catch any man's attention, but then they'd have to deal with the death glare from mercedes' team principal.

toto took your hands and looked at you, "i don't think that is the best idea right now." he rubbed your knuckles for a moment as he looked down at your hands, "don't stand too close to the edge, liebling. you could get hurt."

you looked at him and giggled, "toto, you worry too much!' and linked your fingers with him playfully, "i'm right as rain."

toto looked at you, you very clearly were not 'right as rain', you were drunker than a sailor and you still had more in your cup. thankfully he got it on a nearby side table before you downed the entire time. he kissed your hands lovingly and said, "how about we go inside for a little bit." his tone was tender.

"but the party."

toto leaned up to kiss you on the lips, "i know you're the life of the party." he leaned in a little more to your ear and said, "but papa wants you to not be hungover. verstehst du mich, liebling?"

you pouted for a moment before you nodded your head and let toto help you out of the chair. he kept close to you as he brought you inside. thankfully most were outside, enjoying the italian summer sun.

but toto's poor maus had too much liquor and too much sun. he worried that you'd get a sunburn as he brought you through the summer house and up to the bedroom you were sleeping in for the week.

toto stopped you by the foot of the bed before he undid the strings of your bikini and let it fall off your body was easy. nothing was keeping them held to your body.

his poor girl, the tan lines were going to be interesting in a few days. he placed his hands on your bare hips and looked into your eyes. they crinkled when he smiled, "good girl." he rubbed circles into your hips with his thumbs, "i know you wanted to party more, but papa has to take care of you."

you pouted, "i'm not even that drunk. i could prove it!" you chirped pathetically. you were his little drunk princess today.

"and how would you do that, maus?" he asked as he looked down at you. he lingered over you like a tall shadow, he was almost a foot taller than you.

"i could suck your dick!" you smiled at him.

he looked at you and smiled, "i think i've spoiled you, haven't i?" he asked as he held your chin to keep looking up at him. he chuckled, spoiled you rotten, you think you can get whatever you want if you suck my cock?" he shook his head.

he couldn't believe he let his baby girl become so spoiled, thinking she could get her way if she just got him off. he put you down on the bed and got on top of you. his belt was the first thing to come off.

he quickly worked the belt around your wrists, making sure his little angel would stay still. with your wrists bound, he looked at your naked body. his hands ran up your sides which made you squirm.

"this is why i didn't want you in that bikini." he said with a shake of his head, his eyes glued to your form, "everyone was going to stare at you. the most beautiful woman they had ever laid eyes on." he curled closer to you and kissed at your face with such affection, "i didn't want my little wife to get hurt. you had so much to drink, maus. you need to listen to papa or else you could get hurt."

his tenderness made you squirm, you could feel the stickiness between your thighs grow from his gentle yet strong words. he wasn't throwing his princess over his lap and smacking the cheeks till they bruised. he just thought you simply didn't know better, you weren't used to things being in such abundance.

you were toto's smaller, weaker, more innocent, painfully younger wife. toto felt a sense of protection over you as he captured your lips in his own and his fingers found their way into his hair. you moaned into the kiss and could feel your heat radiating off your body.

when he pulled away, you reached for his white shirt and started to undo the small buttons. you were growing impatient and like the brat you were, you dropped your hands back onto the bed and whined, "daddy!"

he chuckled, and leaned back upright to get the shirt off of his body. once he got it and the white undershirt off, your hands roamed his bare torso.

your core throbbed as you whimpered, "daddy, c'mon. i've been good!"

he smiled down at you and let the articles of clothing fall off the bed into a heap on the floor. his little sunshine goddess, his little maus. there weren't enough words in any of the languages were spoke that would accurately describe how he felt about you.

he got out of his pants without your help and your gaze lingered on the bulge in his briefs. his cock was painfully hard, which meant that you'd be feeling the length of him deep in your cunt.

he was a shower for sure. uncut and heavy. even after all this time of having sex with him, it still was a tight fit. he once said that it was like trying to fit into a tight parking spot. when you grimaced at his joke, he simply threw your knees to your ears and made you see stars.

"do you like what you see, schatz?" he asked curiously, he grabbed your bound hands and made you touch his cock through his underwear. its impressive size still made you gulp as you felt it up.

you weren't happy to admit this, but another time you were drunk at a pool party, you happily chatted with either lewis or george (you couldn't remember) that toto was in possession of the "nicest vienna sausage" then burst into giggles before you staggered off to find your husband. all you knew is that both drivers couldn't look their boss in the eye for about two months afterwards. the knowledge of it all was just too much for them.

you nodded, "i do, daddy. i think it's gotten bigger."

he chuckled as he pulled his underwear down under his cock, it bobbed and you swallowed at the sight of it. he said to you as he reached in to pet your soft cheek, "it's only to keep up with your insatiable appitite, schatz."

you pouted, the buzz in your head was strong as you said, "i'm not that greedy!"

he gave you a look, a stern one as he said, "maus, don't lie. you know what happens to liars." he said his eyebrows at you and watched your shift uncomfortably. he could tell you were getting hot all over.

"i'm sorry, daddy."

he got his underwear off and onto the floor with the rest of his clothes. it felt like the rest of the world turned off, he couldn't even focus on the sounds of the party outside. the music and chatter came through the open windows, but he was so enraptured by your naked beauty under him.

his hands grazed along your sides as he watched you giggle. you squirmed a little bit, such a ticklish little girl. he leaned in to kiss you, he was knelt between your legs and his hands were groping your breasts.

the kiss was sloppy and messy, it made you feel hot all over. having your handsome husband lingered over you, his tongue inside your mouth. his cock stood at full attention, eager to sink into you. he rubbed up against you, his hard cock pressed against your stomach.

the prodding made you heart race before he pulled away and you stared into those beautiful eyes. you shifted a little bit, the pleasure and alcohol made your thoughts murky. you seemed to be driven by the sole purpose of reaching orgasm.

he grabbed you by the thighs and lifted them, you held the position as he got an extra pillow under your hips for leverage. he licked his lips at the sight of you.

"beautiful, little maus." he laughed, "schatz." his tone was glazed with affection as he got fully between your legs and rubbed his cock up against your pussy lips.

you whined and tried to cover your face with your bound hands. but toto was not having any of that. he pinned down back down to the bed and loomed over you. his hard cock in his other hand, "don't hide from me." he said, his voice tinged with more lust, "i want to see my beautiful wife's face when i am fucking her." his words were filthy, "i want you to remember this face for when i am away and you get so needy. needy little girl."

you heart hammered as he rubbed his cock up against your pussy, almost sliding right in. you squirmed a little in anticipation but toto kept you down.

"no, no." he said, "you stay still."

"but wolf-y." you pouted.

he shook his head, "behave." it left an ache in you that was soon filled by his cock easing itself into you. he watched you wince and waited for a moment for you to adjust because he sank the rest of the way in.

his mind went blank for a moment before he snapped himself out of it to continue to push his entire length into you. he had your legs wrapped around his waist. he loved the feeling of your soft skin against his. you looked divine, flustered and drunk but yearning for him.

a carnal ache, the kind that left your head spinning. pleasure left you choked up as your moans were sweet noises to his ears. his lovely wife. how'd he get so lucky.

he kept you pinned to the bed by his hands on your wrist and started to thrust. he used his grasp on you as leverage. his cock was snug in your tight cunt, a proper fit. he thrusted in and out of you and it left you breathless. he heard you airy moans as he bullied his cock into you.

you were just so painfully sweet. his ditzy little maus, the little thing that had him around your fingers. he gazed at you lovingly, going in for searing kisses. he hips bumped against you as you back arched off the bed. you didn't have the strength to get out of his grasp.

even at his age, he still was able to pin you down and fuck the daylights out of you. make you see stars when the pleasure washed over you. a few moans got caught in your throat which on spurred him on to fucking you hard.

the iron rod bed frame hit against the white wall of the bedroom. the afternoon light came through the windows. you were a sight to behold in the glow of the day. his poor angel, you were a little sunburned.

but it was alright, papa would take care of it. just as he took care of you in every other way. his kisses were delicate across your cheeks and collarbones, as opposed to the pace he was fucking you in.

it was oppressive and strong, it made your stomach tie in knots as you felt the beating your heart in your ears. he held onto you and bounced you on his cock.

your squirming only fueled the fire in his gut as he pushed his cock in you to the root. he made sure that you firmly remembered the feeling of him inside of you. your expressions, from the bit of pain to the immense pleasure only made the older man more aroused by you.

his words were dirty as he rutted against you, "do you like when i fuck you? when it feels so good? you like when i have you pinned to the bed and fucking you like an animal. there are people outside that want to see and talk to you, but instead you are too busy taking your husband's cock like the good girl you are." he kissed at your draw, they were wet and made you hot all over, "beautiful, girl." he purred, "you know exactly how to make me feel good. it's not your fault that you got so drunk, you were just handed glass after glass. silly little thing" he chuckled lowly as he left a nice hickey on your neck.

you were on cloud nine, letting your husband fuck you. you felt the roll of pleasure in your gut the harder he thrusts. you were lost in a sea of lust as you felt your walls grip around his cock. two halves of a perfect hole.

you panted wildly and you tried to hold onto him, but he had you by the wrists. you were pinned under him, legs wrapped around his waist as he thrusted into you.

his pace started to stagger and you felt the heat in your gut pool. you whimpered and squirmed as much as you could. and before you knew it, you felt the rush of climax consume you whole. your noises were cut off by them getting caught in your throat and your head was throbbing from the rush.

"maus." he purred.

"wolf-y." you replied, your tongue felt heavy in your mouth.

he pushed further inside of you, bending your back to drill his cock into you. you could taste the precum in the back of your throat. he fucked you with little abandon until he felt the heightened experience of orgasm.

he came in you, and you accepted it like the good wife you were. you whined his name as he slowed down. his poor girl was already so overstimulated. he wanted to go for a second round but you were fucked out. your hair was a mess, partially sun burnt with the alcohol still in your system.

"poor, maus." he cooed as he held his cock inside of you for a moment.

he then pulled out and rubbed his softening cock up against your pussy for one last feeling of your sex. you were blissed out, exhausted under him.

"my little mouse is done for the day?" he asked as he palmed your breasts, feeling the mass between his fingers.

you nodded slowly, "yes, daddy"

"well you rest now, maus. i'm going to see how our guests are doing. if you feel better, you may join us again. but no more alcohol, it's not good for a girl like you." he kissed the top of your head before he got out of bed to find his clothes.

you remained snuggled up naked with the blanket over your head, you peeked out from the blanket and got a good view of your husband's ass as he was bent over to pick up his briefs. you giggled to yourself before you kept an eye on him.

his little spoiled maus. <3

[liivzen]

Waiting and Watching

Gamer!Gojoxreader

18+ mdni

Content warning: porn watching, soft dom! gojo, tw link, riding, breast fondiling, teasing gojo, very slight voyeurism if you squint, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks)

Wc: 1.4k

note: This is edited but I most likely missed stuff still but please enjoy :)

You’re chilling at gojos house while he’s gaming with his friend Suguru, laying on the bed waiting for attention.

You’re just scrolling on your phone going on social media trying to entertain yourself while your oh so lovely boyfriend keeps playing with his friend. Normally you don’t really care and would just keep doing what you normally do, but today you were feeling a little more needy than other days. Glancing over to your lover, you see that he is very much into his game.

“Oh come on Suguru help me out man!” Satoru shouted at the screen and through the headset he was wearing.

You try to drown out the shouting and get back to whatever you had been looking at on your phone. Getting bored of the app you were on you swipe out and go to twitter. Not really thinking much of anything you start scrolling on your timeline. As you’re scrolling you come across a video that is quite…alluring.

Immediately the video had you hot and bothered. You could feel the throbbing coming from your cunt already, and squeezing your legs together to try and calm it down. It clearly wasn’t working though, as you continued to watch the video on your phone. You look over at Satoru again and see that he’s very much into the game he’s playing still. Huffing you think for a second. You look down at yourself real quick, only wearing a t-shirt from satorus closet and some lounge shorts that were more like underwear with how short they were.

Before thinking about it, you felt your hand creep towards the waistband of your shorts. Reaching past it and into your underwear, your fingers start to circle over your clit. You could feel how wet you were already without even touching yourself. Looking back at the video you start to match thrust with your fingers.

You try being quiet by biting your lips, but you let small gasps come out. You could feel yourself coming close to your climax, but then you felt something grab on to your ankle and drag you to the edge of the bed.

While you were under the influence of your own pleasure, you failed to realize Satoru had stopped playing and taken his headphones and saw what you were up to.

“What is my cute little girlfriend up to hmm?” Satoru questioned you with a smirk on his face and reaching for your phone that was still replaying the video over and over again. Before you could answer him he speaks again.

“Oh what do we have here, you like this video baby?” He flips the screen to you and grabs onto your hip so you stay still. You hand was still down in your shorts and you slowly pulled it out while you answered.

“Um, well, you were busy and It was on my timeline so…” You look up at him with a red face and try and wipe your slicked fingers on your shorts. Before you could, Satoru grabs your wrist and your hand towards his mouth. Without any warning he sticks your fingers into his hand and licks your fingers clean of yourself. All you can do it stare up at him with a wide mouth.

“Well why didn’t you say anything baby? I would’ve gotten off if my baby said she was needy.” He tells you after finishing with your hands. He places your phone down on the bed next to you and sits down on the bed. He pulls you on top of him and you spread your legs across him thighs straddling him. You look up to his face and put your hands on his chest steadying yourself. Your boyfriend smirks looking up at your flustered face.

“Why don’t we recreate that lovely video hmm, whatcha think?” He asks with a wide smiling across his face, squeezing your hips in hid hands.

“Ok.” You reply back to him breathlessly.

Before you can think of anything else, you feel his lips crash onto yours. You feel his tongue pushing into yours and you moan into his mouth. You feel Satorus hands creep under his shirt and grab onto your breast, squeezing it with enough force to make you gasp. He takes this opportunity to start kissing down the side of your neck and grabbing onto the waist band of your shorts. Sitting up a bit, you let Satoru slide your shorts and underwear down your legs, leaving you in just his shirt.

“God you’re so pretty.” Satoru mumbles against your lips before pressing his to them. You moan into his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck and rolling your hips into his. You could feel how painfully hard he was when you crotch met his. His hands found their way to your ass, giving it a nice squeeze while grinding your crotch against his again.

“Take it off.” You say to him breathlessly, wanting him to take his sweats off as well. Satoru smiles down at you chuckling at your neediness.

“Ok ok, calm down.” He replies to you, grabbing the waistband of his sweats and pulling it down enough to free his cock. Once its free you grab onto it and start stroking it slowly. While you’re doing that you feel your boyfriend reach behind you and touches you between your thighs. You gasp from the his touch and clench over nothing. Satorus fingers inch towards your entrance, feeling how wet you are. You moan at the touch of his fingers. Getting too impatient you whine at his teasing touch.

Giving in, Satoru slides two fingers into your cunt. You can feel his long fingers reaching way deeper than yours ever do, making you gasp out. You quickly feel yourself already wanting to come, Satoru could feel it too. Using this though, he quickly removed his fingers and positions you over his cock. Using your hands that were already on him, you maneuver it towards your clenching hold.

You slowly push yourself down onto him inch by inch, Satoru squeezing your waist and helping you. You let out a loud moan squeezing around his cock, Satoru letting out his own groan into your neck. You quickly set a calm but deep pace, bouncing up and down on Satorus cock.

“You’re squeezing me so hard sweetheart.” Satoru mumbles in your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin. You grabbed onto his shoulders to give you balance. You move your hips in small circles, causing the pleasure to feel even better. Satorus hand crept around to your front and under his shirt to find your clit, rubbing small circles into that as well. You throw your head back letting out louder moans, squeezing Satoru even more than before.

You move your hands from his shoulders and pick up his shirt, moving the fabric out of the way. You can feel Satoru matching your hips with his own thrust, taking yourself closer to finishing. Satoru grabs onto your hips stopping you from doing your own movements, going so fast you can’t even say his name. Before you know it you’re throwing your head back and your body is convulsing with pleasure. You feel Satorus thrust stutter, giving one big final thrust before you feel his hot ropes shooting into you.

Coming down from both of your highs, you collapse onto Satorus chest. He drags his hands up your back, rubbing up and down, calming your heartbeat down.

“You have a really cute face when you cum, you know that?” Satoru mumbles into the top of your head. You look up at Satoru and smack his chest with the little energy you still have. He chuckles down at you and kisses your forehead. You enjoy this little moment, basking in each others presence. Moments like these make you love your boyfriend even more. Before you could enjoy the silence more though, the sounds of moans fill the room again.

You look over to the side of the bed and realize your phone was still been playing the video you had been watching. You’re cheeks flush and you push yourself off of Satorus quickly. Grabbing onto your phone, you pause the video and exit out of the app. You look over at Satoru, who is looking over at you with a grin on his face. He quickly stands up and picks you up, you wrap your legs around his waist to not fall.

He brings you over to his desk chair and sits down with you placed in his lap. You cuddle into his chest while he grabs onto his headset and logs back onto his game. You can faintly here suguru on the other end of the line.

“Are the two of you done?” You hear him say.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

[rvp32]

The Games We Play: A Tale of Lust

TW: Litle BDSM, edging, overstimulation, spanking, Fingering

The morning didn't kick off on the best foot; your coffee maker chose today to call it quits, depriving you of that one blessed potion that tethers your sanity and prevents you from going all rogue. But hey, the day took a turn into interesting territory when you found yourself trapped in the corner store.

Picture this: a young woman wrapped up like a mystery package from head to toe, was in full-blown panic mode, tearing her surroundings apart in search of her elusive wallet. And what's the big deal, you might ask? She was in a race against the clock, not wanting to miss a date with destiny, also known as a crucial meeting.

No need for Shakespearean monologues here. You stroll over to the cashier, cool as a cucumber, and flash your card. The cashier does her beep-boop thing, wrapping up the transaction with a flourish. Meanwhile, your attention shifts to the enigmatic woman in distress. Your lips don't even need to flex those vocal cords to convey your message, "Miss, let me cover this tab."

With a nod that could put a ballerina to shame, you collect your goods and graciously extend the bag with her belongings. It's like an unspoken understanding, a scene right out of a modern fairy tale.

Exiting the store, you're just about to slide into your trusty vehicle when a voice, as sweet as honey and warm as a summer breeze, pierces the air, "Thank you!!" It's her, the masked damsel in this retail distress. In response, your lips curl up in a smile that’s more contagious than a chuckle.

A courteous nod on your part, a grateful chirp on hers, and you’re on your way, ready to chase down whatever adventure the day's got planned for you. Just as you’re about to speed off to your meeting.

*****

The office had that early morning hush, a quiet anticipation hanging in the air as folks trickled in, not quite ready to dive into the grind just yet. You found your way to your designated corner room, plopped your stuff down, and decided to indulge in a quick social media scroll.

Just as you were lost in their world, a voice, as familiar as your heartbeat, cut through the calm. It was none other than Roh Jisun, not just a colleague, but one of your closest pals and your trusty secretary.

She raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. "Who got you smiling like an idiot, don't tell me you finally got yourself a girlfriend."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Good morning to you too, Ji. You know me, I don't do the girlfriend thing. Just enjoying some highlights from the football games," you replied, setting your phone aside. "So what's on the agenda today?"

"Well, lucky for you, there isn't much on the schedule today," Jisun replied, wisely steering clear of your notoriously dry love life. "Just a meeting with an idol for a brand endorsement and some documents to review."

Your eyes lit up with excitement. "Yes! That means I can head home early today. Let me know when they arrive; I'll dive into some reference material so I don't sound like a complete idiot."

Jisun chuckled at your candidness and made her exit.

With files spread across your desk, you delved into the world of this idol selected by the marketing wizards. She was no ordinary star; she was the crème de la crème, one of the hottest idols of the current generation. Since your knowledge about idols was about as deep as a puddle, the files laid it all out for you - background info, detailed analysis, the works.

As you neared the end of the file, the section with photos, you were hit with a punch of awe. To say she was pretty was like calling a sunset 'nice.' She looked like an angel who had graced Earth, but there was an undeniable fragility about her. The images had you entranced, lost in admiration.

A polite knock at your door brought you back to reality. "Sir, the folks from Starship Entertainment are here to discuss the brand endorsement deal," Jisun reported in her professional tone. "Should I let them in?"

"Please, do," you nodded.

One by one, three individuals entered the room. And then, as if fate had a wicked sense of humor, she walked in. The same woman you'd crossed paths with at the convenience store, only now she was without her mask and hat.

"Oh, what a coincidence," you remarked, extending your hand. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Miss Wonyoung."

Her eyes sparkled with surprise and gratitude. "It truly is! I can't believe the chances. Again, thank you so much for helping me out." Her smile could light up a city.

"Please, have a seat."

The negotiations flowed seamlessly, and everything fell into place. The deal was set, and a date was locked in for the commercial shoot. "I'm looking forward to working with you. Thanks for your cooperation. Here's to this reaching the heights we're hoping for."

As they left, you settled back in your chair. But a mere moment later, there was a knock on your door, followed by Wonyoung's head peeping in.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Miss Wonyoung?" you inquired, curious about her return.

"I want to thank you for helping me out today, so please let me treat you to dinner," Wonyoung offered.

"Alright, just let me know when and where to pick you up," you replied, raising an eyebrow at the surprise on Wonyoung's face. "That was easier than I expected. Can I get your phone number? You know, to text you the details."

A sly smirk played on your lips as you motioned for her to come closer. She hesitated for a moment before approaching, maintaining eye contact without saying a word.

"You know, Miss Wonyoung, I need your phone to input my number, unless you've got a photographic memory," you teased, causing a blush to creep up on her cheeks. She fumbled for her phone in her handbag, and you deftly entered your number. Handing her phone back to her, you remarked, "It's a bad habit to stare at someone, Miss Wonyoung."

"I'm really sorry, I didn't realize I was staring. I'll text you the details. See you then," Wonyoung practically bolted out of your office.

Shortly after, Jisun walked in, her voice carrying a hint of sternness. "What was all that about? What did you say to make that angel run away?"

"Calm down, Ji. I just teased her a little. She wanted to thank me for helping her," you replied casually, not missing a beat as you continued to read the documents.

"You'll never change. Why does she want to thank you?" Jisun inquired, curious about the situation.

So you recounted the whole story about your chance encounter with Wonyoung. Jisun burst into laughter and commented, "Wow, it truly is an incredible coincidence."

You returned to your documents, but something else was occupying your thoughts, or rather, someone. Regardless of what the papers said, your mind kept drifting back to the interaction with Wonyoung. Her subtle nervous movements, the way she blushed at your teasing, and the pure excitement in her eyes when you agreed to her proposition—it all danced in your thoughts, like an enchanting melody that refused to fade.

After a few painstaking hours of wading through and approving a mountain of documents, you'd finally conquered the pile Jisun had left on your desk. Packing up your laptop, you decided it was high time to replace that dearly departed coffee machine. Strolling through the store, your gaze was momentarily captivated by a Pepsi ad featuring none other than Wonyoung's larger-than-life cut-out. You couldn't help but admire her beauty for a few seconds before shaking off the distraction and making your way to the appliances section.

With a new coffee machine in tow, you headed back home. It only took a couple of minutes to set up the shiny new addition to your kitchen. Eager to wash away the day's toil and dust, you headed for the shower. There, amidst the soothing cascade of water, your thoughts inevitably drifted back to Wonyoung and the unexpected events of the day.

The cold shower did wonders to invigorate both your mind and body. Afterward, you settled onto the couch and noticed a message from an unknown number. It was Wonyoung, inquiring if you would be free tomorrow evening. You quickly replied, confirming your availability.

Within moments, another message popped up, this time with a reservation at a well-established restaurant. You didn't argue with her choice and appreciated her initiative. With the dinner plans set, you wandered into the kitchen to prepare your meal for the day. Tonight, it was a simple yet delicious dish: rose pasta with grilled chicken thighs on the side.

Having savored your homemade dinner, you retreated to your cozy corner, book in hand. The words on the pages wove a soothing lullaby, and before you knew it, you had surrendered to the embrace of sleep, calling it a day.

********

The day seemed to fly by, yet the thought of Wonyoung lingered in your mind like an intoxicating poison. Numerous scenarios involving her had taken root in your thoughts, and it was fair to say that most of them were far from what people might expect. What you realized was that your attraction to Wonyoung wasn't of the romantic variety. It was something deeper, something about the way she seemed fragile and innocent that piqued your interest and stirred a side of you that rarely saw the light of day. 

 As the day drew to a close, it was finally time to pick up Wonyoung. Arriving at her house, you sent her a quick text to let her know you'd arrived. Moments later, the door swung open, revealing Wonyoung in a stunning black off-the-shoulder dress.

"Good evening, Miss Wonyoung," you greeted with a warm smile, holding the car door open for her. "You look absolutely beautiful."

"Good evening," she replied with a soft smile. "You're quite dashing yourself, Mr. CEO." With a final exchange of smiles, you closed the door and headed to the driver's seat. 

"How was your day? I hope it wasn't too tiring," you asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you as you drove.

"It was relaxing, honestly," Wonyoung replied with a smile that lit up the car. "It was my first day off in a while, so I finally got some good rest."

"That sounds wonderful. I apologize for monopolizing your precious free time then. I hope I can keep you entertained," you quipped, trying to tease her a bit.

Wonyoung's blush deepened, but she met your gaze with sincerity. "No, not at all. You seem like a very interesting person, and I would love to spend time with you."

Her direct response caught you off guard, and you found yourself momentarily at a loss for words. "That's very kind of you," you finally managed to reply, a genuine smile gracing your lips. "I look forward to getting to know you better as well. Maybe we can be friends."

You noticed a subtle change in Wonyoung's demeanor, her smile fading ever so slightly after your last comment, but you decided not to dwell on it. "What do you like to do during your free time, Miss Wonyoung?" you inquired, attempting to steer the conversation in a different direction.

"Please call me Wonyoung, you don't need to be so formal with me," she replied with a warm smile. "I love to read, hike, and watch shows," she added, her gaze wandering around the interior of the car.

"Alright, Wonyoung," you said with a playful twinkle in your eye. "Reading, hiking, and shows, huh? Sounds like you've got a nice mix of hobbies. Any recent favorites?"

She leaned back in her seat, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "Well, I just finished a gripping mystery novel that had me up all night. And as for hiking, there's this trail I love near my place. It's so serene and peaceful."

You nodded, genuinely intrigued. "A mystery lover, huh? Any recommendations? I might need some new reads."

Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "Oh, definitely! I'll text you a list. And speaking of recommendations, any favorite shows or movies on your end?"

You chuckled, realizing you might be in for some teasing. "Well, lately I've been into documentaries a lot more than shows.."

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly smile. "I guess I was wrong about you being interesting."

You both shared a laugh, and the car seemed to hum with a newfound camaraderie. As the evening unfolded, you discovered more about each other's quirks, interests, and shared laughter. The chemistry between you was undeniable, with a hint of flirting and teasing that only added to the intrigue of your blossoming relationship.

The drive seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, even though it had been nearly half an hour. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and you found yourself thoroughly enjoying Wonyoung's company. Arriving at the restaurant, you helped her out of the car. However, as you made your way toward the entrance, she stumbled, and instinctively, you reached out to prevent her from falling.

In that brief, heart-stopping moment, your eyes locked, and the air between you thickened with an undeniable tension. It was as if an electric current passed between you, and before you knew it, she leaned in, and your lips met in a kiss that felt heavenly, charged with a depth of feeling that took you both by surprise.

Her lips tasted divine, and as you pulled her closer, your mind wandered to places that were vastly different from the sweetness of the moment. Desires and tastes that diverged from the mainstream public swirled in your thoughts, and it shook you to your core. You pushed her away, breaking the kiss abruptly.

Wonyoung's shock was evident in her doe-like eyes, now brimming with tears. "Wonyoung, we shouldn't do this," you stammered, your voice strained with difficulty. "I'm not the right person for you. You deserve someone better. I'm not the person you think I am."

Deep down, you yearned for more, to ravish those heavenly lips and her enchanting body. But you knew, for both your sakes, this path was fraught with complications you didn’t want to put her through because it would destroy her innocence.

"Wait, are you gay? I'm so sorry; I should have been more careful. Please forget this ha—" Wonyoung began, but you cut her off before she could finish her sentence. "No, I'm not gay," you replied. "It's just that I have certain... something else. Let's just get dinner, and I'll show you what I mean afterward," you said, hoping to evade the topic.

Walking towards the restaurant, with Wonyoung following closely, her curiosity got the better of her, and she pestered you with questions. "Tell me what it is. It can't be that bad, I'm pretty open-minded. Please tell me; I'm so curious!"

You shot her a stern glare that left her looking shocked, but she quickly pushed back. "That glare isn't going to shut me up. So tell me what it is, and I'll shut up."

Before you could respond, the waitress arrived to take your order. You ordered for both of you without giving Wonyoung a chance to continue her line of questioning. As she filled the water glasses, you placed one in front of Wonyoung and instructed, "Drink it." She did so without protest.

"If you aren't going to tell me, at least let me guess, and you just say yes or no," Wonyoung suggested, her curiosity undiminished.

Wonyoung's questions came one after another, each one prying into the mysterious aspect of your life. You responded with straightforward "yes" or "no" answers, hoping to keep the conversation from delving too deep.

"Are you a criminal?" she inquired.

"No."

"Does it have something to do with your sexuality?"

"No."

"Do you have any medical issues?" Her gaze traveled in an unexpected direction.

"What? No, I'm perfectly healthy!" you retorted, feeling a bit flustered.

"Is it something related to your preferences in bed?" she ventured.

This time, you simply nodded.

Her response was unexpected, a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Oh, spicy. Are you perhaps into BDSM and power dynamics?"

Although you didn't verbalize a confirmation, your expression said it all. You were taken aback by how quickly she pieced it together.

"Oh my god, I can't believe I got it so fast," she exclaimed. However, her lack of further comment left you in an awkward silence, uncertain about how she truly felt about your revelation. It seemed she either felt uncomfortable discussing it or maybe had her own reasons for not pursuing the topic further.

Before you could say anything more, the food arrived, and you decided not to probe any further, not wanting to spoil the mood any further.

As the meal continued, you couldn't help but notice that Wonyoung wasn't eating properly. Her playful approach to her food caught your attention. "Wonyoung, eat properly. Don't play with your food," you advised, trying to maintain some semblance of decorum in the restaurant.

Wonyoung responded with a mischievous smirk. "What if I don't want to?" she teased, her words carrying a hint of suggestion. "Are you going to punish me for being a bad girl, Daddy?"

Her remark left you momentarily flustered and choking on the food, a rush of thoughts and desires flooding your mind. You quickly regained your composure, though, and tried to steer the conversation back to safer territory. "Let's just enjoy our meal," you suggested, hoping to quell the tension that had unexpectedly arisen.

The rest of the dinner passed in silence, the earlier tension still lingering in the air. Wonyoung had insisted on paying the bill as a gesture of thanks, but you had already settled it before she could reach for her wallet.

"I was supposed to treat you as a thank you!" she protested.

You brushed off her protests with a gentle smile. "Consider it my way of saying thank you for entertaining me."

The two of you left the restaurant, and Wonyoung followed closely as you made your way back to the car. The silence continued, hanging heavily between you. Then, out of the blue, Wonyoung broke it with words you never expected to hear from her pretty lips.

"I want to experience how you control others. How you will fuck me and make me beg"

The shock of her words hit you like a jolt of electricity, causing you to slam on the brakes and bring the car to a sudden stop at the side of the empty road.

Locking eyes with Wonyoung, you delivered your words with a firm and almost grave tone. "No, you don't," you asserted. "The things I do aren't like what you watch in movies. And even if you were serious about this, I don't believe your fragile body could handle it. Pretty things can be easily broken if not taken care of. What I do doesn't show much care for you; it would push both your mind and body to the limit."

Your words were a serious cautionary note, aimed at changing her thoughts and preventing her from a path that held potential danger and discomfort.

Wonyoung's smirk persisted, and a playful tone danced in her voice. "'I'm not as fragile as you think I am. Moreover, I don't believe you have what it takes to break me, Daddy,'" she quipped, her words filled with a hint of teasing. "On a more serious note, I honestly think you're all talk. There's no way you can actually make someone beg."

Wonyoung's taunting and challenging tone persisted as you continued the drive. She seemed entirely unshaken by the gravity of the topic, and her curiosity was piqued.

"So, Mr. CEO," she continued, her voice laced with playful skepticism, "are you saying you can make someone beg for your control? You must have some secret weapon or technique, right?"

Your eyes remained fixed on the road, and you responded, your tone still cautious. "It's not about a secret weapon or technique, Wonyoung. It's about understanding boundaries, trust, and consent. It's not something to be taken lightly."

Wonyoung, however, seemed determined to push your buttons further. "Boundaries, trust, and consent? Those sound so boring and safe. Where's the excitement in that?"

You let out a sigh, recognizing that she was testing your resolve. "There's a difference between excitement and recklessness. What I do, or rather, what I've explored in the past, is not a game. It's a realm that requires responsibility and understanding, especially when it comes to the well-being of all parties involved."

Wonyoung leaned back in her seat, a challenging glint in her eye. "I still don't buy it, Mr. CEO. You'll have to prove it to me."

Wonyoung's taunting continued unabated, and it was clear that she was enjoying pushing your boundaries. She leaned closer, her tone dripping with mischief. "Come on, Mr. CEO, don't be so serious. Show me what you've got. Make me beg or are you going to be a coward and run away?"

Your grip on the steering wheel tightened as you felt the tension in the car reach a boiling point. You had tried to warn her, to convey the gravity of what she was asking, but she seemed intent on testing you.

Finally, unable to contain your frustration any longer, you slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a sudden halt by the side of the road. Without thinking, your hands found their way to Wonyoung's throat, fingers pressing firmly against her delicate skin. The shock in her eyes mirrored your own as you choked out the words, "You have no idea what you're asking for, Wonyoung." She releases a small moan.

The moment hung in the air, charged with a dangerous energy, and you realized that you had crossed a line you couldn't uncross. Wonyoung's playful taunts had ignited something within you, a darkness you had long kept in check. 

Your responsibilities, your reputation, and everything else faded into insignificance as you drove to your house, your mind consumed by a primal desire. Once you stepped inside, there was no turning back. You pulled Wonyoung with you, and in the dimly lit hallway, you pinned her forcefully against the wall.

Your hand gripped her throat, and the other held her wrists firmly above her head. The room seemed to close in around you both as you whispered into her ears, your voice laced with a warning and a final chance for her to bail out. "Is this what you wanted, Wonyoung? This is your last chance. After this, there's no turning back."

The intensity in your eyes burned as you awaited her response, the gravity of the moment weighing heavily on both of you.  

“Yes, This is what I wanted, for you to restrain me and have your way with me,” Wonyoung says, her eyes filled with determination, to experience what it feels like to let someone have complete control over what happens to your body.

You immediately kiss her, the kiss unlike last time was harsh, filled with lust. Both your tongues exploring each other's mouths. Sliding a knee in between her legs causes her to moan into the kiss. 

Wonyoung grinds on your thighs, enjoying the friction. You let go of her throat and hands, now exploring her body but ending up on her ass, squeezing it and feeling her stiffen up with the contact. 

Breaking away from the kiss you pull Wonyoung toward the room that you kept locked away from everyone. Wonyoung followed obediently. Once the door is open you push Wonyoung into the room and she falls onto the bed. 

“Take off your clothes,” It wasn’t a request but a command that Wonyoung obeyed. Watching her remove her dress was like watching a movie unfold, it slowly got better. Now she was in her bra and panties. 

“Kneel,” After Wonyoung's obedient response, you left the room momentarily to get changed. The air was heavy with anticipation, and every moment seemed to stretch. 

You returned to the room, your presence felt as you stood behind Wonyoung. Your fingers began to braid her long and silky hair, a soothing and intimate gesture that contrasted with the intensity of the situation.

As you worked on her hair, you explained the dynamics of what was to come. "This is how it's going to go," you began, your voice firm yet reassuring. "You do everything I tell you to. If you do well, then I will reward you, and if you don't, you get punished. It's simple, isn't it?"

Wonyoung nodded, her trust in you evident. But you had one more important thing to convey. "One more thing," you added, your voice softening with genuine concern. "If at any point you think you can't handle something, say the color red. Everything that we're doing will stop immediately, and I will make sure you are fine. Your safety and well-being are my top priority."

With these words, you set the boundaries and the rules, ensuring that this journey would be a consensual and mutually satisfying experience for both of you. 

With a gentle kiss on Wonyoung's neck, you left her in a state of heightened anticipation, a mix of confusion and excitement swirling within her. She could hear your movements but couldn't predict what would come next.

When you returned, it was with a blindfold in your hand. Placing it delicately over her eyes, you obscured her vision, taking away her ability to see. The loss of sight heightened her other senses, making her acutely aware of every sound, touch, and sensation. It also added an element of unpredictability, deepening the intrigue and excitement of what was to come in this shared exploration.

In the dimly lit room, a tremor of excitement ran through you. Here, within these four walls, everything was under your control. It was an opportunity to satisfy a desire that had remained hidden from the world, a longing that had been kept secret. The urge to witness vulnerability, to see tears, and to have someone willingly surrender themselves to your complete mercy had always been there, lurking beneath the surface.

With every breath, every whispered command, and every touch, you were stepping into the territory you had long kept locked away. 

With a firm but controlled grip on the newly braided hair, you pulled Wonyoung up and whispered into her ear, your voice dripping with stern intent. "I'm going to make you regret every single word you said during the car ride, Princess."

Wonyoung shivered in response, the weight of your words sinking in, a mixture of anticipation and fear coursing through her.  

Wonyoung yelped in surprise as you pushed her onto the bed, and her heart raced with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. She had entered a realm of unknown sensations and desires, and the anticipation of what would happen next was palpable.

The sound of your footsteps drew her attention, and she turned her head in your direction. As you joined her on the silk, a hard slap landed on her cute butt.*Yelp* It was a sharp, stinging sensation that sent a jolt of electricity through her, awakening new sensations and desires that she had only begun to explore. 

Slowly unclasping her bra, you squeeze her ass and give it a couple of spanks. Wonyoung is now whimpering. “Spank yourself, Princess, it better be hard, I want to see your handprint on that cute ass of yours,” Leaving Wonyoung by herself, you grab a pair of leather handcuffs. 

Your tone shifted from stern to gentle as you cooed comforting words to Wonyoung. "That's enough," you murmured soothingly. "You did such a good job, princess, such a good girl."

With a reassuring touch, you grabbed both of her hands and cuffed them, ensuring they were secured firmly, making it clear that she wouldn't be able to escape from your grasp. 

You introduced a new element to the unfolding scene, a game that would both challenge and please. With a commanding tone, you explained the rules to Wonyoung. "Now let's play a game," you began, your voice unwavering. "For every slap, you will count and apologize for being a brat."

Wonyoung nodded in compliance, but you demanded more. "Use your words, princess. You are a human, after all, aren't you?"

With a submissive "Yes, sir," she complied.

The first slap landed firmly, and Wonyoung counted, "1, I'm sorry for being a brat." You repeated the action, the impact slightly harder, and she continued, "2, I'm sorry for being a brat." The third strike came down, causing her to gasp with a mix of pain and arousal. "Ah!! 3, I'm sorry for being a brat."

Satisfied that she had apologized sufficiently, you reached for a glass of ice on the bedside table. Taking an ice cube, you placed it on the sensitive area where she had been struck. The sudden coldness against her heated skin made her gasp and squirm, but you held her firmly in place, introducing a thrilling contrast of sensations to the experience.

With a practiced ease, you flipped Wonyoung's petite body around, exposing her erect nipples and toned midriff. The anticipation in the room was palpable as you continued to explore the depths of desire between you.

Grabbing another ice cube, you placed it delicately on her left nipple, the sudden coldness on the sensitive spot causing Wonyoung to instinctively bring her hands down from above her head. But you were swift, catching her hands and placing them back where they belonged.

Taking the ice cube into your mouth, you traced a tantalizing path around her left mound, ensuring no part of her was left without attention. You moved to her right nipple, repeating the same maddeningly slow and sensual exploration while simultaneously pinching and playing with the other one.

Wonyoung's voice filled the room, a chorus of pleasure and desire escaping her lips as her body squirmed uncontrollably. Her legs rubbed together in a desperate attempt to find some relief from the various sensations that were overwhelming her senses, aching for release and satisfaction.

You continued your teasing exploration, trailing the ice cube slowly toward Wonyoung's belly button, relishing in the way her back curved from the heightened sensitivity. The room was filled with an electrifying tension, desire mounting with every passing moment.

Finally, you removed the one piece of clothing that was drenched, a clear indication of how excited Wonyoung had become. The ice cube hovered just above the spot that begged for the most attention. A simple act of blowing air on her very wet core caused Wonyoung to moan in desperation.

"Please," she managed to say, her mind clouded to the point where forming a coherent sentence was a challenge.

But you weren't ready to make it easy for her. "Please what, Princess?" you teased, relishing in her vulnerability.

Her face flushed with embarrassment, and she brought her hands down to cover it as she stammered, "Please touch me there."

You continued to push her boundaries, enjoying the game of control and surrender that had enveloped you both, as you whispered, "You have to be more specific, Princess. I've been touching you the entire time."

Wonyoung's initial response was mumbled and unclear, but when you demanded she speak louder, she screamed, "I want you to touch my pussy, please. I need it!"

Granting her request, you gently played with the swollen nub, eliciting a sharp reaction as her toes curled with the newfound sensation. After some tender foreplay, you decided to take it further, inserting one finger into her. Wonyoung's moans grew louder, her arousal undeniable.

Using your free hand to continue playing with her sensitive nub, you slowly pumped your finger in and out, savoring every sound and reaction she made.

But Wonyoung's desire burned fiercely, and she begged for more. "More, please. I need more," she pleaded, her voice dripping with need. "Please put one more finger or eat me out, please!"

You couldn't resist teasing her a bit more. "Such a needy slut," you taunted, delivering a slap to her pussy that made her scream. "Only good girls get to make demands."

Desperate and on the edge, Wonyoung responded fervently, "I'm your good girl, Daddy. Please give me more. I need it so badly."

With a sense of control that heightened the intensity of the moment, you decided to edge Wonyoung, not once, but four times. Each time, you brought her right to the precipice of release and then denied her the ultimate satisfaction. It was an exquisite torture that pushed her desire to its limits.

The first time you edged her, her moans filled the room as you skillfully brought her to the brink, only to stop just when she thought she couldn't take it any longer. "Please," she begged, her voice filled with desperation. "Please, Daddy, let me come. I need it so much."

But you were relentless, and the second time you edged her was even more intense. Wonyoung's body quivered as she teetered on the edge of release, her pleas growing more urgent. "Please, please, I can't take it anymore. Please, let me come. I'll do anything."

The third time you edged her, her cries of frustration and longing filled the room. "Daddy, please," she whimpered, her body trembling with need. "I'll be a good girl, I promise. Just let me come."

But you denied her once again, pushing her to the limits of desire. The fourth time you edged her, Wonyoung was a writhing, desperate mess. "Please, Daddy," she sobbed, her voice cracking with need. "I need it so badly. Please, please, let me come. I'll do anything you want."

With your words of encouragement, you leaned down and moved closer to Wonyoung's ear, your breath hot against her skin. "Go ahead," you whispered sensually, "show me how much you needed it, show me what a slut you are!"

Nibbling on her ear, you continued your passionate ministrations, pushing her closer to the edge. Wonyoung finally let go, surrendering to the pleasure she had begged for and needed so desperately. Her back arched, her body trembled, and a stream of liquid gushed out, staining the perfect silk sheets beneath her. 

Without giving her much time to recover, you immediately take out your cock and position yourself in front of her freshly used pussy. As you slowly move in, wonyoung’s body reacts to your cock by screaming and tightening around it. She was very tight, almost like this was her first time. 

“Wait, slow down, please. I am so sensitive, Daddy, please! Wait!” Wonyoung pleads and you agree. Once she nods signaling that she is ready you continue till you bottom out. 

“Oh God, you are filling me up so well” Wonyoung manages to say in between moans.

“Princess, can I start moving now?” You ask because you can no longer hold back. Wonyoung makes eye contact with you through the mirror across from the bed and says “Yes, Daddy”

With her permission you begin pounding like there is no tomorrow, Wonyoung responds with nothing but moans and occasional screams when you hit her sweet spot. Her moans are like melodies you will never get tired of hearing. Playing with her clit as you pound her push her over the edge as she orgasms again, “Fuck! Daddy!” Wonyoung screams. 

Even though Wonyoung had reached her orgasm you continued to pound her tight pussy. “Please, please, too much, Daddy!” The overstimulation frying up nerves in her brain and sending her to a mental state she never knew she could possibly achieve. 

Wonyoung brings her hands to stop you from moving but you grab them, her eyes rolled back and back arched as you continue pounding. “DADDY NOOO!” 

“This is your punishment, baby, who said you could cum? This is your punishment!” You grunt as you put more force into the thrusts Every thrust sends waves of pleasure through Wonyoung’s body. 

“AGH, GOD!!” Wonyoung screams she starts to mumble things that you can no longer understand, you continue to chase after your orgasm. 

“Where do you want me to cum, Princess?” You ask as you reach closer to your peak. 

“I-inside, Daddy” Wonyoung manages to say in between her loud moans. 

“Fuck baby, Daddy is going to cum in your tight pussy,” You grunt,

“Yes, Daddy fill me up, I need to feel that warm cum in my pussy please!” finally Wonyoung manages to form a coherent sentence. With her explicit consent, you unload the biggest load of your life in Wonyoung’s pussy. 

“Fuck, Princess that felt so good, You were such a good girl, my lovely princess,” you say after you envelop her in a hug and place a kiss on her forehead. 

“Yes it was, I never knew pleasure could be so intense!” Wonyoung said as you pet her hair. Silence fell in the room but Wonyoung said “This is just the beginning right?”

Realizing how insatiable Wonyoung is and how good the sex is, you reply “ Yes, Princess. From today onwards you belong to me, you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy, I love the way you touched me. I need your touch, it's intoxicating and addicting” Wonyoung says as she nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck. 

[radio-writes]

I Don't Know if I'm Real Without You

— Part 2 of 2 (Read Part 1 here: What is Left of Me Without You)

Synopsis: He didn't love you, but he needed you—that's what he said, at least. He needed you to show him just how deep your devotion to him really was.

Warnings: abusive relationships, power imbalance, some misogyny, heavy manipulation, gaslighting, murder and violence, physical injury to reader, major character death(s), angst

Tags: married, one sided romantic love, Alastor x Reader, female!reader

MDNI

"Why, just the other day a green fuzzy caught sight of another stiff by the river! Poor green egg went green in the face!" A laugh track followed the voice on the radio.

Alastor sat on the couch as he riffled through his briefcase, making sure he had everything he needed today.

"What poor taste," You commented absentmindedly from behind him. "Is that really any way to start off a Sunday morning?" 

Alastor let out a distracted hum at your words. He hadn't really been paying you much mind. A lazy smile simply played on his face.

Just one body? Seems they missed the other two friends it had in there.

"Well, it takes talent to entertain, my dear. Something these hacks clearly lack," He said casually, waving a hand at the radio's direction. 

"And speaking of stiffs! We've got a fresh one today, folks—" The host's voice was chipper as it came from the radio.

Alastor sat a little straighter, as if on instinct.

"Darling, do you mind fetching my script?" Your husband spoke over the hack radio host. "Seems I might have forgotten it in our bedroom." 

"Not a problem, dear," You replied almost instantaneously. Your hand landed on his shoulder, giving it an affectionate squeeze before you left the room. 

Alastor stood up, cooly making his way towards the radio as he turned the volume down slowly. 

"Glue stuffed in his mouth, chilled off, and absolutely tattered by nails, people! Brutal new body found behind the local—not so secret—juice joint!" The radio continued, but Alastor's smile remained calm despite the gruesome news.

His eyes stayed at the doorway you left through, making sure you had actually gone.

There was no need to sully your little ears with useless chatter like this. You were much more use to him all oblivious and naive, so he'd prefer to keep you that way. 

When the radio host finally finished talking about his the most latest victim, Alastor turned the volume back up to how it was. He made his way back to the couch, hands gathering his script neatly into his hands from the top of his briefcase.

He chuckled to himself before calling out to you. "Never mind, dear! The little bugger was at the bottom of my case this entire time!" 

He wasn't the type to forget these things. He was always so organized, sometimes to a fault.

And you knew that.

And Alastor knew that you knew that.

But he wasn't worried. You'd never doubt him. Whatever pesky little thought you had related to him, you'll just brush off easily.

He'd made sure of that.

Alastor heard you playfully scold him, your soft laughter rung through his home.

"—I guess you can say he really nailed that Chicago overcoat!" The annoying little shit on the radio joked just as you entered the room.

Alastor spared it one quick glare before his sight fell on you once more. You didn't seem to care for the joke much, but your eyes did linger on the dials of the radio for a second too long Alastor thought.

"Does the radio seem a bit louder to you, Al?" You asked him.

Ah, he must have turned it back a tad bit too far.

He looked at you with faux confusion. "'fraid I don't know what you mean, dear. Why would it be louder?" He stood up, closing the briefcase in front of him and straightening out his collar. "But I do have to split now, darling, or the ol' big cheese would have my head."

Your eyes met his warm chestnut ones. Alastor could practically see the way you brushed away your silly concerns in your head, a soft smile once again gracing your lips. 

He knew you were confused as to why his boss supposedly needed him at work on a Sunday.

He knew you wanted to ask why.

He knew that, at least some part of you, didn't fully believe that he was headed off to the radio station. 

If you were smart you'd have listened to it.

But you were his wife. 

So you simply nodded in understanding, moving closer to where Alastor stood. You made to grab for the suit jacket that still hung on his arm but the tall man was quick to pull it high above your reach.

"Not so fast there, darling." He teased, smiling down at you.

"It's cold out, dear. I'll help you put your coat on," You insisted, small, delicate hands reached up for the jacket.

Alastor stepped back from you, briefly tapping his fingertip against your nose. "And who said I was in any hurry to cover up this lovely new shirt my wife got for me?" He teased, snapping the suspenders he wore against the crisp white shirt.

He simply adored it when he made heat color your soft cheeks. He loved seeing proof of his effect on you.

His eyes drifted to the clock behind you, his smile straining just a tiny bit when he realized what time it was.

He'd miss his mark if he wasted any more time here.

"In any case, darling, I really do have to dash," He smiled back at you, already heading towards the door before you could say anything else. "But do keep yourself free, baby. I'll be back before you know it." He shot a wink at you.

He grabbed his hat from the coat rack and plopped it neatly on his head, then he was out the door in a second. 

Alastor let out a short, tired breath.

Sometimes, he did find your love to be a bit tiring. But he supposed, at the moment, it was still worth much more than the hassle it caused him.

He hurriedly strolled down the street, smiling and greeting everyone that passed by him politely. His ego stroked just a little bit with every flustered dame.

He didn't care for any of them, but he never grew tired of knowing the charming effect he had on people.

Alastor tried to clear his head of you as he hopped into a taxi. He laughed as the cabby recognized him almost immediately, but he didn't pay the man any mind as he yapped about how much of a fan he was.

Instead, he found that his thoughts have annoyingly strayed back to you. He's found that you've been so persistently present in his mind lately.

One would think that sounded so romantic, that he was a cold man finally falling for a sweet little thing.

But in reality he was weighing his options.

You've always been so behaved, so meek.

He found you endearing, that much was true.

You were great company, after all. You loved the same music he did, kept up with his dancing, and sang so beautifully along whenever he tickled the ivory keys.

You dressed up to compliment his style, even if it wasn't to your comfort. Smiled at all the wretched people, even as they gossiped behind your back. Perfectly prepared and happily ate every dish he liked, even stranger ones you found hard to stomach.

Because you shaped yourself to be his partner. You did everything and anything that you could to gain his approval.

And that was indeed endearing. The lengths you went to, just to hear a simple praise from him.

Alastor used to wonder if there was ever a limit to it, but as the times flew by he realized you were just too happy to rewrite even your own logic just to stay by his side.

And it was also true that you were a brilliant cover.

As a taken man, there were much less people prying into his life as opposed to when he was an eligible bachelor. And no odd rumors ever spread about him thanks to how behaved you were.

People saw him as soft, gentle, caring. Because a violent, murderous, psycho could never keep a delicate little thing like you as his wife, could he?

Yes, you definitely had your perks. That much he already knew.

But you've been so restless lately. So oddly, insistent on being by his side more. 

He'd tried to talk it out of you. Whispered how he was so lucky that you weren't like other wives. How you trusted him and respected his space. How you didn't nag him like a terrible partner would.

And it worked...for a while.

Until you've been fixated on getting the darn basement door open, at least. Somehow, you had it stuck in your brain that opening that stupid lock would have proved your worth to him.

You've been visiting that mug of a shopkeep at the locksmiths so often that Alastor just simply had to get rid of him already. He returned the useless tools he sold you last time too of course. He didn't quite like others making a fool out of what was his.

Only he could do that.

The cab stopped by a rather classy bar, the driver letting out a low whistle, going on about how they also wished that they could live up the big life.

Alastor tipped him generously, bidding him a great day as he stepped out.

He tossed his jacket on quickly before he adjusted his bowtie in the reflective glass window of the building. This was, he thought, his second favorite part of it all.

For such a detached man, Alastor loved many things.

He loved meeting his victims for the first time in person. The thrill of so many eyes on him as he clasped their clammy palms in greeting.

He loved talking to them, watching their eyes light up as he mentioned what they wanted the most. That moment where he knew he had hit the nail on the head and found out exactly what made these scum tick.

He loved using it against them, luring them to a false sense of security.

And, his absolute favorite part, he loved dragging the sharp edge of his knife against the skin of their necks. The lovely shade of red bleeding down their stiffening bodies.

He just can't help but love—

"My darling?" A voice—your voice—rung out in the dark alley. 

There wasn't time. There was no time to hide the body, toss the knife, flee from the scene.

There was no time to come up a with a story, a lie, a cover.

Because you were right there, standing in the alley with him. His blood stained hands and the corpse by his feet plainly in your view.

Even with the blood smudged on the lenses of his glasses, he could see the fear in your eyes, the gears turning in your head as you tried to process the scene in front of you.

It's a real shame. Earlier today he had decided that you still had more purpose to serve him. That he could still put up with you. That he would still be able to stomp out whatever stubborn will riled you up lately.

Clearly that wasn't the case anymore.

"Now, now, dearest," He started, hand reaching out to you as he held the knife still in his hand.

Your feet moved, but to Alastor's shock you ran to him.

Your panicked eyes took in the violent red that stained the pristine white shirt as you took his outstretched hand in both of yours.

"We should go," You hurriedly whispered, fearful eyes met his confused ones. "You can't be seen here."

You tugged him along the streets, careful to keep yourself in front of him as you tried to hide most parts of him stained with red.

Alastor's eyes were wide, his long legs working on their own as he tried to understand what exactly was happening.

"Dearest?" He whispered to catch your attention. "I just chopped off a man, you know that, right?" 

Your steps didn't falter as you hurried along, but you didn't turn your head to look at him either.

"Yes," You responded. The tight knot against your throat kept you from saying anything more.

"I sliced his throat open," Alastor continued to prod more. "His blood is all over me, in fact."

You whip your head around in urgency. You meant to shut him up. You meant to warn him not to talk so loud, that you couldn't be too sure who could be around to overhear.

But when your fearful eyes met his calm, warm, sweet, ones you ended up swallowing against your dry throat. Adorning a shaky smile instead.

"And I'm sure you did it to keep yourself safe, dear." You said, although it seemed as though you were trying to convince yourself of that.

It was as if a light bulb lit up in Alastor's head. He finally understood what was happening. He fought against his own body to keep himself from smiling as he stared into your uncertain eyes.

"I knew you'd understand," He feigned a sigh. His hand, that was previously unresponsive in yours, curled its fingers to hold onto you. "I knew I would be safe with you, my darling wife."

Alastor noted the way your stiff shoulders slacked at his words. As if you were waiting for his praise; as if you were waiting for that little bit of confirmation to fully push away all those pesky, silly, little doubts you held.

As if you were begging to have the slightest bit of reason to cling onto, to prove that there was no cause to leave your spot beside him.

"If anyone asks," You said softly, your hand reached out to wipe away the little bit of blood on his cheek. "I'll tell them you came home early to me. You did promise that you would come back quickly, anyway."

Alastor smiled down at you, letting himself lean into your touch as you seemed to love it when he does. "I am so lucky that you love me, doll."

You continued to lead him down the streets, sticking to less lit areas as you did so.

Alastor couldn't stop the grin from spreading widely across his face.

Because you did love him. You loved Alastor with all your sanity it seemed, but he was, unfortunately, far too happy to take advantage of that.

It was a huge weight off his shoulders really. 

Alastor enjoyed the hunt, the kill, but the clean up? Not so much.

While yes, he did enjoy tricking people into eating up his stories, misdirecting them this way and that, silently mocking how clueless they were. It was still such a pain to have to constantly make sure his stories were air tight. 

He didn't have to do that anymore, though. Not when all his darling wife had to do was smile shyly at people and hint that he was back home all night busy with more usual pleasures.

It wasn't even that hard to convince you to let him stay out late, hunt to his heart's content.

It was all just bad, terrible people. Scum of the earth. Dangers that could hurt you, or others. And Alastor, the dashing, selfless, secret knight in shinning armor was willing to dirty his hands if it meant keeping people safe. He'd taken on the burden so everyone else didn't have to.

Your husband, a great, tragic hero.

And besides, it's not like he asked you to kill someone. All you had to do was lie a little. Nothing grand, nothing elaborate—he wasn't so sure you'd be able to handle it after all—just smile, and hint, and spread a few insignificant white lies. 

It was easy enough, wasn't it?

And your little love for him did everything else. Your own lovesick mind fought your instincts without Alastor even doing much of anything else.

You convinced yourself so quickly that all this blood, all this violence, all this murder, just made your husband an even greater man.

Ah, he truly did love the way you loved him.

You were with him now down in the basement—Alastor conveniently finally figured out how to open the stubborn padlock—and if he was being honest, he never really imagined you joining him here.

Well, not alive anyway.

You watched him as he neatly packed the most latest body into a bag and burn the gloves he used during the act. Going through his simple routine to make sure he could continue to get away scot-free.

Alastor noticed how your eyes always averted from the corpses, insistent on staying on his form instead. He didn't really mind it, but oh did he enjoy that little spark of fear you worked hard to stomp down whenever your glance landed on a limb or two. 

He heaved the bag over his shoulder, before finally fully turning to you. "Well, let's get a move on, shall we, darling?" He smiled cheerfully, motioning with his arm for you to head up the stairs first.

You were glad to do so it seemed, you always were. You didn't have to watch your husband dispose of bodies, but Alastor found it rather cathartic how you've now started to cringe away from the basement door, after weeks of pestering him over opening it.

A little lesson, he thought. Well deserved. 

And look how behaved you were now again.

The walk to the nearby woods was uneventful. Silent. Routine.

Unlike the first time around he dragged you along. You kept wondering and wondering until you finally asked out loud how Alastor knew the streets so well. How he knew where to go where no one would see him. The man you saw him kill was the first one, wasn't he?

He laughed at your unsure smile, brushing your worries off with the flimsiest excuses. How he'd been home late so many times already because of work. How he just preferred to take the quieter roads so as to decompress from all his adoring fans—fans who weren't you.

And it was enough.

Because you foolishly trusted him. You wanted to believe him, and so you did.

Alastor hummed cheerfully as he continued to shovel dirt over his most recent victim. He was certainly far enough into the woods not to care too much about being overheard, anyway.

A sudden soft beeping noise joined his melody, and he looked down at his—rather expensive—watch.

"Would you look at the time! I hadn't realized it was already so late. Time surely flies when you're saving the world, right, darling?" He looked over his shoulder at your unsure form.

You stood hunched over, your back against a tree, and your arms wrapped around yourself, a fair distance from the man burying a body.

Your eyes avoided the hole in the dirt as you painted a strained smile on your face. 

Saving the world.

Alastor could practically see the way you tried to remind yourself that that is what your husband was doing.

"It's hard to keep track when you've got a lot do," You vaguely answer, choosing your words carefully.

It's not that you worried Alastor would do anything to you. But you were, unknowingly, cautious of any single thing that could trigger any more silly concerns within yourself.

Alastor hummed in response, his eyes staring at the mangled corpse he threw in the ditch. "They'll be looking for me at work if I don't show up soon, though." He thought out loud. "But I can't exactly leave this rotten stiff like this, can I?"

He sounded troubled. He looked troubled, with that wrinkle between his brow.

A good wife would soothe him.

A good wife wouldn't stand around watching her spouse do all the hard work.

He didn't need to say it though, not that he had any mind to. You heard his voice in your head regardless. 

Your timid, unsure voice spoke up. "I...I could stay behind and continue burying it?" It sounded like a question.

One that it seemed like you hoped the answer was no. 

Except you'd be a horrible wife for thinking that. You should be praying that he'd say yes.

After all, a good wife would do anything to help her husband.

Alastor froze for a second, his eyes catching yours from above his glasses before he adjusted them up his nose. 

Then you were rewarded with a smile.

"My darling wife, always so helpful," He cooed, walking towards you. He dropped the shovel to the ground and wrapped his arms around your waist, almost lovingly.

Alastor could feel how fast your heart beat in your chest, almost fighting to get out. "But I could never ask a lovely doll like you to do such a dirty job like this." He tsked as he looked down at you.

"I can handle it, my dear," You responded, eyes bright with stars at his praises. It was almost as if you'd forgotten what exactly it was you were agreeing to.

Alastor pretended to think for a moment, but his eyes caught sight of the watch on his wrist and decided he didn't exactly have time to enjoy playing with you more.

"Only if you promise not to get caught, my darling." He smiled down at you, and you quickly nodded, promising you'll do a good job and meet him at home.

He pressed his cold lips chastely against your forehead, and left you with a corpse in the woods to bury.

But it's just that, anyway. Nothing too much to ask for.

It's not like you killed him.

And he was probably a horrible person to begin with.

Right?

You brushed away the heavy, gnawing feeling, as you met the glassy unseeing eyes of the corpse in the ground.

Alastor surely knew what he was doing. And you loved him enough to do this simple thing to help with that.

Just as you shoveled in one patch of dirt to cover the man's eyes, you heard a loud gun shot echo through the early morning woods.

You jumped out of your skin, cold hands gripping the shovel as the sound rung out.

Your heart was at your throat as goosebumps littered your skin. 

Alastor.

You ran. You barely registered your own body moving until you felt the cold air whipping against your face as your legs carried you to where your husband went.

Worry. It all but consumed you, as your blood rushed loudly in your ears and your heart pounded.

Please be okay. Please be okay.

Please—

You didn't know what you were doing. You didn't recall it. You didn't feel any of it.

You remembered seeing your husband's body collapsed and bloodied on the forest floor.

You remembered seeing someone with a gun standing panicked over him. 

But no, you didn't remember when you ran at the culprit.

You didn't remember the feeling of stabbing the shovel into their side, nor the warmth of their blood as it splashed on your cold skin.

You didn't remember bashing the steel against their skull with all your might; the metal dented and morphed as it disfigured the man's face.

You didn't remember screaming until your throat was raw. You didn't remember the tears scrolling down your bloodied cheeks. You didn't remember the horrible, unbearably cold, ache in your chest.

You didn't remember staring down the barrel of a shaky gun.

You didn't remember dying.

All you remembered, was the feeling of Alastor's warm arms embracing you as he pressed his welcoming lips to your forehead. 

And how you knew you'd never feel it again.

At least, you didn't think you would.

You blinked in confusion as you stared up the man—thing?—that caught you in their arms like a bride.

"I guess someone ought to rewrite those wedding vows because death didn't seem to do us part!" It laughed. Its voice sounded as if you were merely listening to it from a radio.

No, wait. Sure the thing that caught you also laughed, but you could have sworn you heard a whole crowd do so as well. Strangely, almost like a laugh track.

It's sharp yellow teeth showed proudly as it grinned down on you, and you couldn't help but cringe away a tiny bit from fear.

What are you? You wanted to ask, but you knew better than to be blunt.

You wouldn't want those nasty paper folk to catch wind of Alastor's little wife being rude—

Except. Were you still his wife? Where was he anyway? Where were you?

The thing that held you laughed cheerfully as it gently set you down onto your own feet. "Darling, I will never get enough of how easy you are to read," The thing said, twirling it's cane—microphone?—in it's hand before it leaned on it to study you. 

You got a strangely familiar heavy feeling in your gut, but before you could think much of it, your arm was looped through its as it pulled you along to a shop window.

"It seems you're a tiny bit confused, my darling," It said with a bright smile. "It's alright, you weren't always the brightest bulb in the room, but you certainly made up for it with your passion." It chuckled, once again a laugh track following its words from seemingly nowhere.

You felt the tip of its microphone at your chin, tilting it so that you'd turn your gaze from him to the shop window.

You almost jumped away, like an animal not recognizing itself in the mirror.

It took you a minute to realize that you looked at your own reflection.

You even waved your hands around and tilted your head to make sure it followed your movements. To make sure this was real.

You looked nothing like yourself. Hell, you looked nothing human.

"Truthfully, I'm a little offended, dear." The thing beside you spoke up, now turning to his own reflection as he adjusted his bowtie and dusted off his red pinstriped suit. Something oddly familiar.

"It took me less than a second to recognize you, and you still seem to not even know who I am." It said, glancing at you from the corner of its bright red eyes.

Your gaze trailed up to the top of its red hair, seeing two small horns—at least that's what you thought they were. 

"The devil?" You asked cautiously, still confused. "Am I in Hell?"

It let out a hum at your response. "One of two. I suppose it's one of your better shots, my dear." It said.

It turned to face you, suddenly leaning down close, so as to have it's mouth right by your ear. Your body freezes on instinct as it spoke.

"Must I really bed you again for you to remember me, darling? Or would watching me bury another body be enough to jog your memory?"

You leaned back, only enough to catch a look at the thing's face. The knowing eyes that seemed so warm, so inviting, so charming, despite how monstrous they looked. The smile that seemed incapable of falling.

The familiar feeling that brewed in your gut.

"Alastor?" You asked, your now clawed hands reached up to caress his cheeks, and the thing—your husband—leaned into it. His eyes briefly closed.

"Took you long enough, really." He said, a joking exasperation in his tone. 

The thing—your husband, you had to remind yourself again—abruptly pulled away, his tone bright and cheery as he began to drag you along the streets with a heavy clawed hand on the small of your back. "Now enough of that! Time for more important business, darling!"

"Wait, Alastor? How? What?" You stammered, attempting to pull away to take a second to breathe and clear your head.

The hand that guided you slid to the side of your waist, pulling you tightly against it's Alastor's side. "Ah, my darling thing. Always so slow on the uptake." He shook his head as if he found it adorable. "We're in Hell, dear!"

The words rang loudly in your ears, your heart sinking to your stomach.

"And we have important business to take care of, yes indeed!" Alastor continued, not letting you process a single thought. "And for this, I'll need a partner I can trust! I'll need a partner who I can rely on! I'll need someone absolutely devoted to me." His eyes met yours but he saw how the alarm still outweighed his words.

His eyes narrowed, lowering his face abruptly to yours, to the point where you could feel his breath on your skin. He wanted your attention, all of it, and didn't really care all that much about what else you had to think about.

"Hellooo? Anybody home?" He joked, tilting his head as he saw your eyes come back to focus on him. "Ah, there you are, dear. Thought I lost you for a moment."

You supposed you could think things through later. Even if Alastor looked terribly different now, this was still your caring husband after all. And he needed something.

A devoted parter? Was that what he said?

"Well, you know I'm always here for you, Al. Whatever this plan of yours is." You tried to paint a smile on your lips as you always have.

"Oh, but how exactly do I know that?" Alastor stood back up to his full height, his head tilting as he smiled down at you.

Your brows furrow. You don't quite know how to tell him that. You swore you've done so much for this man, and yet when trying to think of an example, none came to mind.

You cooked and cleaned and looked pretty for him? Spent time with him? Loved him? Lie for him? Hide a body for him? That's just what a good wife would do.

But you supposed—you think—you killed for him.

"I avenged you?" It came out more of a question than an answer. "I killed for you."

Alastor didn't blink as he responded. "Then do it again."

Your mouth ran dry.

Had you heard him correctly? Was it a joke?

You waited for the laugh track to play but none came.

"What do you mean...exactly?" You asked with a nervous laugh, your lips straining to keep the smile.

"Kill for me again," Alastor casually said. He turned, eyes locking onto a random demon further down the street you walked along on. He raised his microphone to point at them, turning his head—unnaturally—to face you again.

"Like that one. I suppose he'll do." His tone was still as cheerful as ever.

You follow to where he pointed, eyes hesitantly looking at the creature. 

You quickly looked back up to meet your husband's gaze. That feeling was there again.

And you weren't sure if it was the fact that you just died, or the sheer lunacy of the request, but you finally realized what it was.

Doubt.

You doubted Alastor.

"Why?" Your voice was small. "Is he a bad person too?"

Alastor rolled his eyes. "Hell, if I know dear. I've only just seen him now. But we are in Hell, you know?" His shoulders casually shrugged as if he didn't really care. "So, maybe?"

You tried to hide the tremble in your voice. Tried to hide how you doubted him. "But I already killed for you. Why do I need to prove my devotion even more?"

"You killed out of passion, darling. It hardly counts." He laughed, as if you were being so silly.

You're left with even more questions when Alastor grabbed your wrist, and you melted into shadows before re-appearing right in front of your supposed victim.

"What the fuck?" They exclaimed, jumping back.

"Good day, good fellow! The name's Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you, quite the pleasure!" Your darling husband stepped in front and forcibly shook the confused sinner's hand.

Alastor waved a hand in your direction to showcase you. "This right here is the Mrs., and she'll be killing you now."

You flinched as Alastor's voice further distorted.

Black tentacles wrapped around the now thrashing demon. And to your horror, you realized they came from your still-grinning husband's back.

His red eyes now consumed by black as he looked down at you expectantly.

"I...I don't have a knife." You avoided his eyes and looked away.

Alastor's head tilted. "You have claws now, dear."

You felt bile raise to your throat at the idea of ripping some stranger apart with your own hands.

"It'd be terribly difficult if these clothes get stained. Who knows where I could get new ones in...Hell." You had to spit the word out. "A-and, we're out in the open. Anyone can see us, there might be police here o-or their friends and family."

"You won't do it." Alastor cut off your rambling, more of a statement than a question.

You didn't meet his eyes.

You heard him sigh in dismay. "Well, it's alright, my dear. I suppose I knew your love for me had its limits."

Your eyes widen in shock, head whipping to look at him in panic. There was disappointment in his gaze as he looked away from you. Even as his smile remained painted on his lips, you could see how he seemed to shrink away from you.

"That's not true!" You half yelled, ignoring the struggling demon still held off the ground. "I'd go to the ends of the earth for you. I'd give up my life for you. I followed you to Hell, even! How could you even think that my love for you isn't boundless, Alastor?"

"Because it isn't." He sighed, his clawed hand gripped his microphone tight as he started to walk around you. "You say you'd do anything for me, that you'd give everything up for me. But I'm asking you for something so simple, and you couldn't even do that."

Your shoulders stiffen, you try to turn your head to follow him around. "This is not simple, Alastor." You said, a tinge of hysteria creeping into your voice. "You're asking me to kill someone for you, again."

"Wrong." Your husband said in a rather, sing-song manner. A jarring buzzer effect played at his words.

"I'm asking you to kill someone who is already dead." Alastor explained, barely paying mind to the sinner who now just looked very uncomfortable. "And you're already in Hell."

He looked at you as if you were stupid not to have put this together yourself. "He won't lose anything. You won't lose anything. There is nothing to give up with this tiny request of mine."

He stopped walking in front of you, but a greater deal of distance away now than when he started.

"And yet you can't even do that, my love."

You glanced down at your hands—your claws—in uncertainty.

That persistent feeling—doubt—swallowed you whole as you stood there willing your body not to move.

You should stop.

Run.

Never look back.

But instead your body moved toward the sinner; sharp, shaking, hands hesitatingly sinking into their flesh.

Once. Twice. Thrice. You couldn't be useless to your husband.

Their muffled screams sounded so far away from you, even as they yelled right by your ears.

You felt it.

Their skin giving way and the blood dampening your clothes each and every time you sank your soft, delicate, clawed hands into him.

The feeling of your long claws coming into contact and tearing through whatever bone or muscle stood in their way.

The awful, gut wrenching, guilt that swallowed your chest.

You hated it.

Alastor's hand clasps affectionately at your shoulder as he watched you cheerfully. Enjoying the conflict in your eyes as your heart died with every drop of blood that spilled from your hands.

"I think I may have just fallen so deeply in love with you, my dear wife." He cooed into your ear.

And your chest didn't flutter, or grow, or skip a beat like you had thought it would at those words.

But it's probably just the guilt, right?

It's just because so much has happened that you couldn't process anything.

Because you still loved Alastor, didn't you?

You loved him with your very soul, but he was a liar, and you may have finally started to see it.

Taglist @lil-bexie / @mizukikyong / @amurtan / @fokrilove / @fairyv-ice 

[jtl07]

[edit: now on ao3!]

okay here's a cafe au that we're just gonna noodle here ("we" lol - me, it's just me and my silly shenanigans) where basically Ava's going in for coffee and normally, idk, normally Mary is the one to get coffee when they're working together but Ava was being too annoying so Mary sent her out to get coffee and pastries.

when she steps into the cafe Mary had recommended, she immediately is grateful because at the register is one of the most beautiful women Ava's ever seen. sure, she has a strict looking bun and an unreadable expression, but Ava can work with that - especially when she notices how the woman's gaze flickers downward briefly. (Ava sends a thank you to Mary also for doing laundry yesterday)

as Ava steps up to the counter, she notices a nametag on the woman's chest - it's one of those "hi my name is" stickers and it's slightly askew, as if it had been haphazardly slapped on - which seems at odds with the rest of the woman's look (Ava notes that her shirt is actually tucked into her pants) but Ava's not one to judge. "hello, JC," Ava greets, giving the woman her best smile.

the woman frowns. "i'm not -" blinks, stutters, "um, yes, hello, welcome to Cat's Cradle," settles back into her unreadable expression by the end of the sentence. then, she gives Ava a soft smile. "what can i get started for you?"

Ava rattles off the order, throws in a couple extra pastries because why not, gives her name and her payment and stays close to the counter to watch JC make her drinks. she notices a couple other folks working too because wow, how the heck did this cafe employ the prettiest people: a taller guy with a rakish smile wearing a shirt that seems a size too small (let's be real: Ava's not complaining) and a nametag that says Camila; a shorter woman (omg, she's around Ava's height!) with a gleam in her eye and the bounciest curls and a nametag that says Beatrice. their voices are too low for Ava to make out what they're saying but whatever they're talking about prompts JC to shake her head, a bit of a blush on her cheeks, a smile lifting just at the edges of her mouth as she walks over to hand Ava her order.

"thank you," Ava says, hopes it doesn't sound as breathless as she's feeling but whatever, who can blame her when this murmurs so softly and genuinely to come again soon. 'oh i will,' Ava thinks, barely clothing her mouth from spewing the words (she does spew the whole story to Mary who rolls her eyes and chucks a piece of her pastry at Ava's head)

*

apparently, JC isn't the woman's name.

Ava figures it out the third time she visits (okay it's the same week, sue her - actually please don't, she doesn't get paid enough to afford a lawyer) because the real JC and Camila have been wearing those fancy carved nametag pins but Ms. Badass Barista (she's seen those guns, holy shit) is still using the "hi my name is" sticker.

today, the nametag sticker has Evelyn written in a fine cursive that distracts Ava enough that she fumbles her order. she at least manages a "thanks, Evelyn" as she steps back from the register and she gives herself a high five for not being a complete disaster.

watches 'Evelyn' pause, her hand frozen on the register for a moment before she blinks, a smile blooming small and shy. it makes Ava's breath catch and she's high off the feeling for the rest of the day. 

*

the name written on the nametag changes everyday. sometimes it's more masculine, sometimes it's more androgynous, sometimes written in heavy all-caps, sometimes with doodles of flowers and sparkles decorating the edges. Ava never knows what the expect, and though she doesn't know why the woman's name changes everyday, Ava loves a good game; can understand wanting to try something new - for the heck of it, for the life of it.

so she makes it a point to say the woman's given name at least once or twice whenever she visits, watches her reaction closely. some days she gets a smile, some days a laugh, some days no reaction at all. ('Archibald' had gotten a grimace from the woman, snorting cackles from JC and Camila).

then, one day, Ava steps up to the register and the woman doesn't have a nametag, the shirt bare save for the cafe's logo. Ava tilts her head curiously, notes also the way the woman has clasped her hands in front of her, something small turning between her fingers.

"so," Ava says slowly, spotting JC and Camila not-so-subtly eavesdropping from the back, "what should i call you today?"

the woman clears her throat. "well," she begins, bites momentarily at her bottom lip; it distracts Ava enough that she has to ask her to repeat the question: which one had fit her best?

Ava thinks back to the different names and the different reactions the woman had had to each of them. the way they sounded in her own mouth, rolling off her own tongue. and Ava may be all sorts of desperate for this woman but she also cannot lie. "none of them?" Ava winces, but the woman doesn't seem disappointed at Ava's answer - in fact, she almost looks relieved.

"i ... have a complicated relationship with my real name," the woman says softly, eyeing the item in her hand. "it was chosen appearances, for a legacy i have no intention to uphold. but it's the name i was born with. i thought maybe i just needed a new name. but now i'm not so sure."

Ava smiles as gently as she can. "a name can be something that grows with you. something you can make into your own."

the woman smiles, nods. breathes in deep, then takes the item in her hand - a nametag, Ava realizes - and affixes it onto her chest. stands up straight and waits.

Ava lets her eyes curl around the letters in time with her tongue, tracing the name before setting it free: "Beatrice." the difference is clear, between all the other names and this one. the way Beatrice simultaneously softens and straightens, acceptance - of what is, what will be; of who she is. and Ava thinks -

"it's beautiful." doesn't stop there: "just like you."

a blush rises high on Beatrice's cheeks and on Ava's own but she won't take it back, not now, not when it's true.

"ask her out for dinner!" comes a hissed command from the back and Beatrice sends a glare over her shoulder and Ava giggles, which turn louder when Beatrice finally starts to laugh as well.

'it fits,' Ava thinks as Beatrice makes her order - after hammering out details for their date - watching her move, watching her be herself. 'it's you.'

[marvelous-slut]

Rekindle - Opie Winston x Reader

Y’all I’ve underestimated just how sexy Opie is. Like, stop for a minute and look at him. I’ve literally had this in my draft forever and I’m glad to finally get her out.

Warnings: MINORS, as always DNI! 18+ ONLY! Smut head folks.

_________

You turn the engine to your car off as you finally made it to the familiar garage. Teller Morrow. It had been at least 10 years since you’d gotten out of Charming and never looked back, even sitting in the garage brought back too many memories for your brain to count. Most were horrible memories, your father Otto being arrested right outside the club house/garage. Your mother coming in late into the night, drunken and loud. Knocking over things she didn’t need but wouldn’t throw away. If she didn’t come home, you knew she was right inside the club house sobbing for your father who was constantly in and out of prison. The more you thought about the horrible memories, the more pissed off you felt yourself becoming. You decided it was time to go in and face the members of SAMCRO, find out exactly what had happened to your mother. A part of you figured she’d gotten killed due to something with the club, or maybe one of her porn costars had beaten her to death. Whatever it was, you couldn’t allow yourself to feel one hundred percent sad about it. Your parents were never really parents, who could be when they were so invested in the club life?

You walk in to the club house, not much has changed since 10 years ago. The same smell of pussy and booze, the same mug shots hanging on the wall with the exception of a few who you assumed to be members. One struck you, taking it in as you looked at the familiar face. Harry Winston.

“Jesus Christ Ope.” You say softly, before you have any time to think about what he did or if he was still in, a voice brings you out of your thoughts.

“Well look at who’s here!” Piney, it was so good to see him. Even if he looked sick with the oxygen tubing sticking out of his nose. You walk over to him, opening your arms for his warm embrace. “How you doin’ kid?” He asks, smiling largely.

“I’m good Piney, how’d you end up with that shit hanging from your nose?” He chuckles deeply, letting out a cough once he’s done.

“Lung issues, too many Marlboros I guess.” You laugh and he pats you on the back, before you can ask any questions about Opie you get your answer. He stands outside the door of the chapel, leaning up against it and seeming like he’d rather be anywhere but here. Seeing you wasn’t something he was looking forward to like the rest of the club.

“Well, glad to see you made it out for someone’s funeral.” He speaks coldly before walking out of the club house completely. Piney can see the discomfort on your face and speaks up.

“Ignore him, he’s been a real prick since Donna died.” Donna, it had been two years since she passed. He was still mad about that? You sigh and shake your head. You didn’t attend Donnas funeral and maybe you should have, maybe you should have been there to support Opie. He’d called you after it happened, drunken and slurring almost every word that come out of his mouth. You felt it was disrespectful to Donna to come to her funeral and comfort her husband, who you dated for years and considered your first love. It didn’t feel right no matter what way you thought about it, so you didn’t come. That was the last time you’d heard from him until today.

“I guess death can do that to a person. I’ll see you later Piney, I have to go get started looking for a dress to bury mom in.” He hugs you once more, this time a little more tight than before.

“He still cares about you kid. He loved Donna, but he loved you too.” He whispers, making you go cold. You break the hug and smile at him softly, heading out the club house doors as fast as you could. Hoping Piney didn’t notice the grief written all over your face.

__________

You had been through many challenges before, but trying to find your mother an outfit for her funeral that wasn’t completely revealing may be something you weren’t able to do. She’d turned the house into an even bigger dump than it was before you left, ashtrays filled to the brim with butts, beer cans and bottles scattered everywhere. Clothes thrown to the side, on the tv, in the floor. It was a wreck. You prayed it wouldn’t be yours to deal with now. You move a pile of books on the bed to the side to lay out what clothing looked appropriate to bury someone in when a stack of photos falls out. You pick them up, looking at each one. A photo of you and Otto on his Harley, you were maybe 6 years old in the photo. It made you smile, even if there was a lot of shit memories connected to your father you did know he loved you. You knew it was shitty not to call or even visit him, if they’d even let you. You look to the next picture, feeling like someone had just hit you in the chest. A photo of you and Opie on your senior prom night.

“God, my hair. My face.” You say softly, laughing at how much different you looked. Your eyes roam over to Opie, he was much smaller than he is now. Hardly any hair on the poor boys face compared to now. You sigh, folding the picture and sticking it in your pocket. Maybe you’d get to show it to him, if he lets go of the issue of Donnas funeral before you leave. The knock at the door takes you away from reminiscing. You’re in shock at who stands behind the white, dirt covered door.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry for earlier. I guess I’m bad at letting shit go.” Opie says, he leans against the frame of the door, before you can suggest for him not to do it. “Can I come in?” You move out of the door way, noticing him looking around the disaster of a house.

“It’s a fuckin’ dump. Luann couldn’t keep a house up worth a shit apparently.” You say, he laughs a little bit. “There’s no way I’m staying here. Guess I’ll get a hotel till I go home.” You say, moving around some clutter, scared to sit on the couch even after it’s gone.

“If you need a place to crash, I’m sure the club wouldn’t mind if you stayed at the house. My house is pretty empty too, wife being dead and all.” You weren’t sure how to react to the last comment, so you didn’t acknowledge it.

“Thanks Ope. I found this going through moms stuff.” You hand him the photo, as soon as he looks at it he laughs. You feel your chest tighten when he does, even after all the years apart he still had an affect on you.

“Jesus, look how fuckin’ scrawny.” He says, you remember the first time he’d ever put his kutte on, how it was so baggy on him. He’d definitely grew into it over the years. “You were pretty, still are.” He says, you can’t help but smile at the comment.

“Don’t kiss my ass just cause you were being a shit head.” He grins, knowing you were half right. He felt awful for being so cold toward you, especially this being the chance to let you know that he’s never forgotten you. How you’d haunted him nearly everyday for the last 10 years.

“Listen, I gotta get going. Got some shit with the club that needs handled. If you need to crash at my place, you know where I am.”

“Thanks Ope. I really appreciate it. I’ll see you later?” He nods his head and closes the door behind him. You place your back to the door, hanging your head down. It shouldn’t be this way, the high school sweet heart still having some stupid affect on your mind years later. You look up, opening your eyes to a large rat sitting in front of you.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You scream, grabbing the dress you’d found for your mother and slamming the door behind you.

__________

The porch light is barley shining when you step up to the door. You knock on the door, not having to wait long before it’s answered. Opie stands in the door way, only in a towel. Hair still wet from showering. You feel your eyes widen, looking him up and down. You knew it was obvious even if you had been praying it wasn’t.

“Sorry, didn’t think you’d stop by.” He says, moving out of the door way. You step in, the place was much different than your mothers. Clean, neat, no reason to be scared of being on the couch.

“So you just answer the door for anyone half naked?”

“Just the pretty ones.” You feel your face heat up at the comment. Embarrassed that you’re blushing like this. You place a hand on his thigh, rubbing it gently.

“Ope, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” You say softly, he brings your head up to face him. Looking into his eyes makes your heart go faster than it had in years. He places his hand on the side of your cheek, caressing it gently.

“It’s okay.” Before you can respond, you feel yourself move closer, kissing him. He moves his hands to your hips as you stratal him, gripping them tightly. You run your fingers through his damp hair, the last time this had happened was when the two of you were 19 years old, what you’d thought would be the last time you ever got to be this close to him. You break the kiss and head down to the towel that covered him, uncovering his hardened cock. Turns out, everything about him had grown some in ten years. You lower your head down, running your tongue up his cock as he moans out. One thing you love about Opie, he never was afraid to be loud. He’d let you know how good you made him feel. You wrap your lips around his cock, moving your head up and down. Slowly, trying to get him going and eager for you. It worked very fast, he grabs a fist full of your hair, tugging it gently trying to get you to pick up the pace. It was hard to take him in your mouth without choking, you hadn’t been blessed with no gag reflex like most. Taking him little by little however, was driving him insane.

“Too big for you to handle now?” He asks, you can just in-vision the smirk plastered across his face. You decide to take it as a challenge, taking him until he hits the back of your throat. You hold in your gags, but the tears forming in your eyes can’t hide that you’re struggling with taking every inch of him.

“Fuck.” He mutters out, leaning his head up to watch the sight in-front of him. A sight that as much as he was ashamed to admit, thought about from time to time even while he was married to Donna. You pull your mouth off of him, slowly, letting him feel every movement as you do. He groans out, as you straighten yourself up, he’s pulling at the waistband of your shorts. Silently, he begs you to take them off. You begin to unbutton them and he helps get your underwear and shorts off swiftly. Eager to be inside of you. You reach your hands down to discard your shirt before you slide yourself down onto him. Your walls stretching with every inch you take of him. Moaning out, you rest your hands on his chest. He places his hands back onto your hips, helping you move and watches your face as you adjust to him.

“Oh my God. Ope.” You whimper out, moving yourself faster and more steady onto him. A hand finds its way to your breast, grasping it firmly. He moves his hand farther up to your mouth, he drags his thumb over your lips slowly. You open your mouth far enough for him to graze it over your teeth. Before you know it, you’re flipped onto your back. The feeling of him reinserting himself makes you whine out, arching your back as he picks up a steady pace. You turn your head, closing your eyes and taking in the feeling of pleasure that’s overwhelming your senses. He uses one of his hands to turn your head back to him, holding it there.

“I want you to look me in the eyes. I want to see how good I make you feel.” The words make you even wetter than you were, which at this point you’d thought was impossible. He feels your nails digging into his back, using your hands to pull him closer to you. Looking at your face and the way you tightly had your legs wrapped around him, he knew you were close to cumming. He speeds up, thrusting into you faster and a touch harder than before.

“Fuck! Ope-“ You’re unable to get another word out before you feel yourself tighten around him. You grab him, pulling him down and smashing your lips against his. You grind against him, making sure to ride the orgasm as long as possible. Feeling you grind against him sends him over the edge, he groans out as he releases into you. You would thank God later for the birth control pills, but right now that was the last thing on your mind. He pulls himself out of you, laying down beside you as you both try to catch your breaths. You try to make the shaking in your legs stop, but it’s useless. You decide to just lay there until you don’t feel shaky or hazy.

“So much for small talk huh?” You ask, he chuckles and stretches out his arm for you to come over. You do so, resting your head on his chest. The feeling feels so good, so familiar and you hate to think about it ending. Suddenly dreading going back home.

“Yeah. Maybe we can do that in the morning.” He says, kissing the top of your head.

[steddielations]

“Evening, sir.”

It’s the Harrington boy. Again.

“I told you, son, it’s Wayne,” he manages a smile, harder to do these days, like chipping it out of cement and dusting it off. But he gets it done.

Steve doesn’t have the Henderson boy with him today, that’s a first.

“Where’s the curly one?” He steps aside, letting Steve into the trailer door, more rickety than before. No money left to fix it after repairing the bulk of the earthquake damage.

“Dustin? He doesn’t wanna watch the game, and trust me, you don’t wanna listen to that kid complaining the whole time,” Steve walks by, sorta chuckling to himself, “I always miss the replay ‘cause he makes me change the channel to those D&D cartoons during the commercials, just like—”

He stops in front of the couch, looking over his shoulder at Wayne like he’s afraid he messed up somehow. Wayne noticed that look often from him, less and less, but still often. All that confidence he carries can drop on a dime, sorta reminded him of—

“Like Ed?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“S’alright. I don’t mind talking about him if you want,” Wayne manages another concrete smile, but he means it. Steve always waits for him to bring up Eddie first, like he doesn’t want to remind him if it ain’t on his mind, but Wayne likes to be reminded. It’s nice to feel like he’s not the only one missing him. “But the game was yesterday and y’know the cable’s out.”

“Yep, got it covered. I uh, I taped it,” Steve fishes a VHS tape from his back pocket. Fancy. Wayne would worry about him using that for his sake, but he has a feeling Steve’s folks aren’t around enough to notice.

“The Colts win?”

Steve flips the tape around, “Haven’t watched it, so we can bet on it if you’re feeling lucky.”

It doesn’t feel so dry and heavy when Wayne laughs a bit then, waving Steve to go ahead and start up the TV. He already caught the game on the radio, but he bets on the Colts anyway. Loser’s supposed to do the dishes after they scrounge together some soup, but Steve does them anyway.

Wayne would make a stink about it but he can tell Steve just wants to help, to feel like he’s helping. Same thing when the Henderson boy comes around to see him, wanting to hear all the stories, even the scary ones. So Wayne doesn’t mind letting Eddie’s friends feel like they’re helping him.

His nephew didn’t have many friends. Real, cover-your-six kinda friends. The boys he played his music with, they’ve come by a couple times, Wayne always liked Jeff despite the racket. That older fella that’s doing time now, Wayne wasn’t too fond of. And some of Eddie’s dungeon buddies he talked about were the only few.

Now, casual acquaintances? Anybody who didn’t have anywhere else to sit when he had an empty spot at his table? Sure, Eddie had those in spades.

His boy was good at that, putting on a good old show for his crowd, on a stage to keep his distance. That damn Al did him in good, never could trust easily, having his old man pop up and drag him into his mess before he took off again. And Eddie’s poor momma would’ve done right by him, if she hadn’t gotten sick so young.

Took Wayne a long time to get Eddie to depend on him, to trust this was his place to stay and he didn’t have to earn it, Wayne wasn’t just filling his head to scheme something out of him.

Love ain’t a transaction that way. He wasn’t ever any good at saying it, but he tried to show Eddie the best he could.

His boy though, always carried a debt with him. Like he owed Wayne something for taking him in, had to graduate quick and make it outta here, do something with the better life he gave him. Al dug him in so deep, Eddie stayed roped into whatever his latest scheme was (the cars, the dealing, the gambling, thank God Eddie wasn’t there when the goddamn robbery went wrong, 25 to life) like maybe it’d be enough to keep him from running off again.

The odds have never been in favor of people like them, poor folk in a town that’s stuck in its ways, where everybody’s just like their old man, but Al made his choices and Wayne made his. Rest their mother’s soul, she did her best. Part of Wayne was relieved when Al got locked up, at least Wayne had a better chance of keeping Eddie from going down the same path, try to raise him right.

Being a Munson wasn’t a crime. He didn’t owe a darn thing to anybody. Eddie could graduate at his own pace, play whatever games and music he wanted, dress however, that didn’t mean he was up to no good. And a lot of boys get into dealing for a little easy extra money around here, he was gonna grow out of that just like Wayne did.

It worked until all this mess.

That’s why Eddie ran off after what happened to the poor Cunningham girl. He gets spooked when something goes wrong, like it’ll be the last straw he can’t make up for so he runs off. Like the first time he didn’t make senior year, went and hid out with that Rick fella that Wayne never did like, got Eddie deep into that business he tried to keep a secret.

‘Course Wayne knew. He knows exactly what and where his boy hides. If those damn cops weren’t tailing him, he would’ve gone straight to get him.

That was before he knew it would turn into all of this. Now he wishes he would’ve done it anyway. Gone right to Eddie, told him it wasn’t his fault that everything got all turned upside down. Told him he knew he was innocent right from the get-go, and got him away from this rotten old town.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t go get his boy.

So now he’s just trying to be there for Eddie’s boys, since he can’t.

“You have a night shift tonight right? Gonna put on a pot of coffee,” Steve says once he’s finished up the dishes.

Wayne hums. There’s usually more noise going on during these visits. Steve’s still alright at carrying on, even without the Henderson boy’s chatter to fill any gaps.

It was strange, the first time the two of them showed up. Wayne knew Eddie was close with Dustin, but he didn’t have a clue that he was chumming it up with the Harrington boy. Just don’t seem like the same type of company. He might not believe it if it weren’t so obvious that Steve cared about his boy. He suspected before, but now with Steve showing up here alone, he knows.

Steve misses Eddie in a different sorta way than Dustin.

“No cream or sugar, right?” Steve looks humored by that as he passes the mug of black coffee to him, “How are you related to Eddie again?”

Wayne’s mouth turns upward, remembering his nephew’s god awful sweet tooth. He picked up a box of Honeycombs the other day in the store out of habit. “Just happened to be standin’ there when they beamed him down.”

That gets a good chuckle out of Steve. Nothing wistful weighing it down and Wayne’s glad, watching Steve pour himself a cup of coffee too.

Then bitter-sweetness swirls in his chest, seeing the mug that Steve chose for himself. Must’ve dug it out from one of the boxes Wayne hadn’t hung back on the walls yet. The earthquake did a number on his collection. That Garfield one was the only one he’d gotten around to gluing back together.

“What is it?” Steve asks, cup paused at his mouth.

“Ah nothin’ just,” Wayne waves it off, “That’s the mug Ed always used.”

“Oh, I can use a diff—”

“Nah, nah go ‘head. It’s fine.”

Unconvinced, Steve takes a wary sip.

Mostly these days, Wayne just feels like a watch without a ticker, a chest with nothing beating inside it. He can’t name the feeling he has at seeing Eddie’s old mug being used by someone else, but at least it’s something.

“Y’know, he used to put everything in that sucker. Soda pop, soup, cereal, you name it,” Wayne shakes his head, mouth twitching into a smile, “I’d have to wrestle it away from him just to give it a good washing. It’s well loved, alright. Leaks now.”

As if on cue, Steve has to grab a napkin to sit underneath it.

Wayne lets out an amused hum, “He uh— Didn’t have much stability ‘fore he came to live with me, so he’d get real attached to things like that.”

Carried around a stuffed dragon they picked up at a garage sale ‘til Wayne couldn’t sew the wings back on anymore. Never wanted to throw anything away. Got real anxious about Wayne going to work sometimes, even when he was too old for a sitter. Held onto him saying “Stay home just today, Dad, please.” Which, he didn’t mind Eddie calling him that. It always softened him up, made him give in. Wishes now that he’d told Eddie upfront. Maybe he never would’ve stopped.

“Thought for sure he’d marry that damn guitar one day.”

Steve nearly sputters his coffee, laughing at that, “Yeah, those two are made for each other.”

It’s nice, seeing the way that story lit Steve up. Sorta like his boy can still make someone happy. Hurts like hell that he ain’t here to do it himself, but Wayne was always good at telling stories. That’s where Eddie learned it from.

“I’m uh,” Steve deflates after a minute, looking down at the mug, “God, I’m just really sorry, Wayne.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry too, Steve,” he says, because, well.

Wayne gets the feeling that his boy was Steve’s boy too.

Read the rest on Ao3

[apomaro-mellow]

Matchmaking Harringtons 2

Diane wanted to ask more about Steve's interaction with the cashier, but she remembered being a youngin. The more questions she asked, the more Steve would close up. She didn't know what her husband had said to get things started, but clearly they needed a different angle.

She said as much that evening as she and Jonas got ready for bed. He protested, as she knew he would, but it was her turn now.

So right away the next day, she returned to the mall, hoping Steve's intended would be there. And to her luck, he was.

"Hello, hi", she waved as she approached the counter.

"Hi. Did you need help finding anything?"

"Oh no, not really", Diane said. "You see...", she looked to his name tag. "Eddie, I don't know if you remember but yesterday my husband and I were here with our son, Steve?"

Eddie's cheeks got red and his mouth turned to a straight line. Diane would take that as a good sign.

"We really want Steve to find someone special", Diane said in a low voice, leaning in a bit. "Now I don't know what my husband told you, but I'm here to give you a bit of advice."

"Advice....on getting a date...with your son?", Eddie said slowly as if speaking to an alien.

"Yes. Now here's our number. Call today, we'll make sure he answers. And ask him out."

"Your son? On a date?"

"You've got to be assertive, really make use of this...", Diane gestured to his whole being, "alternative look you've got going. Steve's never dated anyone like you so I'm sure he'll get a thrill having a taste of rebellion."

Eddie smirked as he took the paper with the number written on it. "Getting permission to be rebellious kind of takes the fun out of it. Uh, where should I take him?"

"Some place where he'll get a real rush of danger", Diane suggested.

"A dive bar?"

"He's not of drinking age yet and I am still his mother. I've got to act the part." Diane had definitely drunk underage, but her parents didn't know about it. She was pretty certain Steve had partaken while hanging with his friends. But as long as she didn't see it, she could play dumb. "Where do you and your friends normally hang around?"

"Dive bars", Eddie answered.

Diane pursed her lips as she thought of the best course of action. "I've got it. You're going to say you're taking him out to dinner. But when you pick him up, you'll actually be taking him out to a movie."

Eddie was silent as he did the mental math. Tell the parents one thing, but do another, thus the rush of rebellion. Dinner was public and respectable. But two young folks could fool around in a dark theater. It was honestly something he might try to do.

"Okay, I asked your hubbie yesterday if this is entrapment and I just need to ask again."

"Our Steve is a good boy. He...just has trouble holding onto someone. We don't know if it's him or the girls. We just want him to find someone special."

"...How special? Like, should I be making room on my hand?", he asked, wiggling his ring covered fingers.

"Not that special. Just enough to get him on the right track."

Eddie looked down to the number, then this strange woman again. He braced his hands against the counter and took in a deep breath. "Alright. I'm a gambling man. My break's at noon. I'll call him then."

"Wonderful. And whatever you do, don't tell him that we came to you."

"I don't even know how to begin that conversation", Eddie admitted.

-------------------

Diane was staring at the phone like she was the one waiting for a date to call. Jonas and Steve were watching a game on the tv and she was practically guarding the phone, using dirty dishes as an excuse. When it started to ring, she bit her lip to keep from smiling too much.

"Steve, sweetie, can you get that? My hands are wet."

"Got it", Steve said, picking up the phone on the third ring. "Hello, Harrington residence."

Diane was pretty much just pretending to do the dishes at this point, eavesdropping on Steve's side of the conversation the best she could without looking obvious. She fought the urge to jump for joy when she heard Steve confirm that he would be seeing the caller this Friday at 7.

"Alright. See you then", Steve said, the cord twirled around his finger. "Bye."

He hung up the phone, a dreamy smile on his face and Diane knew that look for sure but she reigned in her own expression. She was about to ask but Jonas beat her to it.

"Who was on the phone?", he called out.

"Oh, um, it was...", Steve was clearly debating how much to tell them, if anything. He took a breath as he decided to trust them. "It was that guy from the music place. He wants to grab a bite this weekend."

"Grab a bite, huh?", Jonas sat up a bit in his chair.

"Yes. Just a little something, we'll probably go to Benny's or whatever", Steve crossed his arms like he always did when he was trying to downplay something.

He then quickly excused himself to go up to his room and Diane dried her hands off for real. She went over to Jonas and nudged him, then nodded to the stairs.

"What woman? I'm not psychic."

"Go and listen. I bet you anything he's calling a friend right now to tell about the date."

"Are we really dropping eaves on our son now?"

"Go and listen!", she whispered urgently.

Taking his sweet time, Jonas got up and crept up the stairs. Steve's door was closed of course, but when he put an ear to the door, he could hear him walking about the room and talking to someone on the line in his room.

When he figured he'd heard enough, he came back downstairs to report to his wife.

"Well?"

"He's talking to that one girl he never dated, Robin?"

"About Eddie?"

Jonas nodded. Apparently the other day, Steve thought he didn't make the best impression on him when buying the music. He thought he came off as boring compared to Eddie. So he was surprised to get his call.

Diane couldn't help but be a little smug. Now the ball was rolling.

-----------------------

Saturday night was here and at 7 o'clock sharp, the Harringtons heard a loud engine enter their driveway. Steve came downstairs but instead of going to the door, went to the bathroom and did a final check in the mirror as the bell rang.

Jonas opened the door and got a load of date night Eddie. The ripped jeans were still there. But now instead of the uniform shirt and name tag, he was wearing a t-shirt that Jonas was just guessing had album art on it and a ratty denim vest.

"Evening Mr. Harrington. Is Steve ready yet?"

"I am", Steve said, appearing behind his dad.

"You two have fun at the diner. Have him back by 11", Diane said as she saw them off.

Jonas was oddly quiet the whole time. Diane just waited him out, knowing he'd announce any opinions he had once they were alone. In fact the moment he closed the door, he turned to her.

"How sure are we about Eddie?"

"Oh here we go. Were we so sure about Chloe? Or Mary Lee?"

"I just thought he might clean up a little more for a date, that's all."

"The important thing is that Steve likes him."

They spent their evening, drinking some wine and watching a movie. But they made sure to be up in their room before it got too late. They wanted the boys to have just a smidge of privacy when they returned.

All the lights were off when they heard that roaring engine come back at 11:15.

"They're late", Jonas said. "That's a good sign."

Diane smiled. They were both listening hard for any sort of sound that might tell them how the night went. They heard the front door open. It was about two minutes before it actually closed. Another good sign. Steve tiptoed up the stairs but in the quiet of the night and them holding their breath, he was easily heard.

The door to his room closed and Diane gripped Jonas' arm tight. "Do you think it went well?"

"Are you gonna go knock on his door and ask? Or should we tap his phone line this time?" Jonas chuckled at his wife's pout. "We'll hear about it in due time. Good night, Di."

"Good night."

They both settled in, officially this time. If things kept going well like this, they'd be inviting Eddie over to dinner soon.

Part 4

Don't worry, we're gonna get some actual steddie focus soon. And Jonas still needs to warm up to Eddie all the way.

Tag Team

@tartarusknight @swimmingbirdrunningrock @estrellami-1 @potato-of-the-lord @dragonmama76 @m-owo-n @sticknpokelightningbolt @somegirlsomewhere @tinyplanet95 @samsoble @runniem

[murdrdocs]

just a little bit | e. landry

description. the heat of nightingale, the campers running around, the bus waiting for your departure, none of it matters when you're with your now-frenemy ethan landry

includes. SMUT 16+, afab!anatomy, frenemy ethan landry, slight bickering, heavy make outs, fingering, very slight public sex, chad meeks martin woo!

a/n: ello! no p in v this go around folks but i rlly like this entire setting so i'm down for whatever in the future. also barely proof read but thats okay

word count: 2.4k+ words

The crunch of leaves alerted you every so often, reminding you of not only the obviousness of your location, but also of what was going on around you. Laughter of kids, screams of enjoyment-filled terror, all of it repeatedly telling you that if you were going to do ... what you were going to do, you should probably do it in someone's cabin. Not outside of someone's cabin.

Ethan Landry, your ex-frenemy now just friend (?), continued to kiss at your neck, either unaware or uncaring of the lack of seclusion, his hands gripping at your waist, fingers bunching up the yellow fabric of your camp tee.

You know that you were the one nagging him earlier, begging him to let loose on the last night of camp and just have fun with you once. Your irritation sprung from Ethan’s new status as a Head Camp Counselor, leader of the Wombats, something he’s wanted since you both were young friends on the playground, both growing your final sets of teeth. You have been head of a cabin group for the second year in a row now, the Quokkas, and you’d attempted to tell Ethan that just because he was head of a cabin group didn’t mean he had to abandon all fun. 

He’d only started to believe you today, where his responsibilities mostly ended after encouraging his team during the start of the color war, when the mammals all teamed up against the amphibians. It wasn’t until you cornered him against the outside of his cabin, looked up at him with doe eyes, and pouted all prettily with sweet begs leaving your lips, that Ethan’s resolve physically melted away, and he finally started to give in to the relentless flirting you’ve subjected him to for the past few weeks. 

Which led you here, getting what you wanted, although now you’re starting to reconsider if this really is what you wanted. 

Ethan sucks a hickey at your collarbone, giving himself access with the way one of his thick fingers curls under the fabric of your shirt, and your moan is cut short when you hear what sounds like a twig snapping. 

Your hands instantly create fists at Ethan’s shoulders, your head turning towards the sound, and your eyes squinting in an attempt to see through the approaching darkness. “Wait, Ethan,” he pulls away from your neck, the silence of the forest alerting you of how wet his mouth is. “What was that?” 

In your peripheral, you see him turn his own head, brown curls bouncing with the movement. “I don’t hear anything.” 

He turns to face you and you do the same, your noses almost touching with the proximity. You instinctively push yourself further back, your head colliding with the wood of the cabin behind you, but the distance between you doesn’t feel right so you end up where you started. 

“Are you sure? I swear I heard someone coming.” 

Ethan smiled reassuringly. “There’s no one there. I swear.” 

You have no other choice but to believe him, but there’s still something nagging at you. “Are you sure you don’t wanna go inside? Or go to the bathroom?” 

He shakes his head, one of his hands rising to trace your lips since he isn’t kissing them right now. “Not the bathrooms, Mack and Will are cleaning them tonight, remember? If you wanna go inside, we can.” He swiftly places a kiss on the other side of your neck, coming to face you again. “But you wanted to do this here, remember?” 

He’s got you there. You were the one who suggested how useless it was to go inside whenever none of the campers would be coming to the counselors quadrant. 

You watch a grin come onto Ethan’s face, realizing that he’s purposefully playing on the fact that you’ve always refused to go back on your word, or even – in the absolute worst case – back down from an argument. It’s something that’s made you a great counselor, and something that’s made you a fun frenemy. 

“Fuck you,” you mumble, a smile unable to be forced from your lips. 

Ethan grins, leaning closer to you, his cheek brushing against yours as he brings his lips to your ear. “Oh, I hope you do.”

You decide to shut him up by sandwiching his face between your hands, pulling him to meet you halfway. You take a second to stare into his eyes, admiring the deep brown of them, loving the way he looks enamored with your existence. Then, you kiss him. 

It’s just a little bit softer this time, a little more tentative. There’s more emotion in this kiss, the feelings felt from your childhood crush resurfacing for a second to allow you a quiet, peaceful moment with the guy you’ve dreamed of kissing for years. 

Ethan is the one who changes it. His hand slides down to run over your ass, before it comes around to the front of your denim shorts. 

There’s anticipation in your system. 

You push your back more securely against the wood, praying you don't somehow get a splinter, and tilt your hips more towards Ethan. He takes it as a good sign to slide his hand down, long and thick fingers playing with the frayed ends of your shorts. 

You sigh, hands slinking around to the back of Ethan’s neck, fingers digging into his hair. When his hands just sit there, not doing anything, you grunt and warningly tug on the ends of his hair. He laughs against your lips, clearly loving having something over you. 

But then his fingers nudge up in the small gap of your shorts, and the tips of them tease against your cotton panties, and just that ghost of a touch has you lagging, lips pausing for a second before you pick up the action again. 

Your shorts are shorter than they should be, and earlier today you self consciously commented on it to Mindy, not wanting to wear something too revealing. After Mindy reminded you that you’ve been walking around Camp Nightingale in tiny bikinis, you shrugged and buttoned the pants, thinking in the back of your mind that the pants provided the easiest of access, and also made it easy for you to flash someone your white panties if your legs were spread far enough. 

Now, you’re grateful for the loose and revealing bottoms. They allow Ethan’s fingers to slide further up just enough for him to press against your cunt with more pressure, touch just a tad off from your clit. 

It’s welcomed either way and you pull away from Ethan to heave in a large breath of fresh air, the smell of campfire distant yet still greeting your nostrils. 

Ethan takes that as a good sign and he continues, pushing the pad of his finger in the center of your cunt, running the digit along the expanse to separate your lips and give him more access. In his journey, he feels how wet you are, a sound that sounds like a mix between a choke and a gasp with a bit of a sigh in there, released from his lips. 

“Jesus, fuck.” His pink tongue darts out to lick his lips and you have a thought, hopefully a premonition, about what his tongue would feel like between your legs, stuffed deep inside of you, straight nose nudging against your clit while he loses himself in the action. 

Your slight fantasy-slash-premonition makes you unaware of Ethan’s fingers probing at the edge of your panties, and you don’t come to until he has the elastic band separated from your skin, air greeting your slicked core, and his fingers soon doing the same. 

The sound you let out is completely unattractive in your eyes. Deep in the back of your throat, a hint of bass in it, but it’s mostly a squeal. One that sounds similar to the squeals of frustration you would let out at Ethan up until late last night when things took a turn in your relationship. 

Ethan, however, seems to take pride in the sound, and it spurs him on to continue. He takes his hand out of your shorts for a second, and you're already huffing frustratedly, mouth opening to say something a little offensive, but it instantly shuts whenever thick fingers are forced into the cavern, Ethan staring at you expectantly. You want to be a brat about it, maybe bite down just to piss him off, but the way he's looking at you makes your cheeks hollow out around the digits, and a sucking motion comes shortly after.

Ethan grins, like the asshole he is, and your eyes roll, but you don't stop. You continue as he uses his other hand to unbutton your shorts, undoing them quicker than you thought it would've taken, and then your zipper is down and Ethan takes his fingers out of your mouth. You watch as he uses the dry hand to pull the band of your panties back, and then the wet hand slips down, resting between your lips.

Your head thuds back against the wood, your eyes closing with a sigh as Ethan starts to really work you. His fingers slip down to your entrance, one singling itself out to probe at your entrance. It slips in easily, a little embarrassingly, but it feels so good so you're not ashamed of how ready you are for him.

The first finger is barely there before you're begging for the second to join, Ethan clearly also in a better mood than usual as he gives you what you want without any teasing from his end.

He steps closer into your space, free hand clutching your waist gently, his head burrowing in the crook of your neck where he presses a kiss into the skin. "That feel good?" he asks, voice low and gravely and so fucking hot. Your hips push into his hand, you nod, hand reaching behind his head to hold him in place.

"Yeah, E. Feels good."

Another kiss is pressed into your skin and your hold on the back of Ethan's head tightens, nails scratching into his scalp. Ethan takes the hint and his lips wrap around your skin. He sucks, and licks, and nips, and you tilt your head to give him more access.

It's risky, letting him mark you up, but its dark and you have makeup back at the cabin and you want something to remember this moment by.

His fingers reach deeper, if even possible, and you're sure that they would've reached the spot in you that only one other person has been able to. You're sure that Ethan, as receptive and observant as he is, would've noticed your reaction and he would've given you what you want, maybe after some healthy teasing, and then he would've given in, working you to an orgasm. Which, probably would have happened. If it weren’t for the distinct sound of footsteps from around the cabin. 

You flinch aggressively, a swear escaping from your lips as your legs instantly close around Ethan’s hand. It takes him a second to pull his hand from between your thighs, and for you to at least get your pants buttoned, and a second is all you have before Chad is walking around the cabin to face you both, a look of shock and entertainment on his features.

His dark eyes look between you two, Ethan wide eyed, clearly having just been caught doing something, and you behind him, with your arms crossed, eyes narrowed as you attempt to pretend like nothing was just happening between you two. 

None of you say anything, then Chad licks his lips, takes a breath, and his eyes widen just a bit. “Oh,” he says, dragging out the exclamation. You think that you’re caught, and that Chad will never let you live this down. But when you take a closer look at Chad, you see this he looks a little more relaxed than usual, and there’s a slight sway to his stance. 

“I see what’s going on here.” And you do, too. 

“Do you?” you challenge, eyebrows raised. 

“Yep,” Chad pops the ‘p’, clearly proud of himself for coming to whatever conclusion he’s reached. “You two are still on the outs, huh?” A weight instantly lifts from your shoulders. Chad already isn’t the most perceptive (he never knows when people have crushes on him, for example), but add slight intoxication, and he wouldn’t know anything if it knocked on the door and introduced itself. 

Chad nods, hands resting on his hips as his lips purse for a second. “Yeah, mhm. That’s what it is. You’re over here bickering and arguing and fighting off that sexual tension but hey! I say give in to it, you know. You’re only young and horny once!” And that’s all Chad has to say because he’s waving dismissively to you both with one hand, going up the steps and reaching for the handle, and he’s stepping into the cabin, the wood slamming against the doorframe acting as a goodbye. 

You turn to face Ethan, still a little flustered yourself, and he’s still a little flushed. His hands twitch at his sides, and you mindlessly bite down onto your lower lip. 

“So, do you wanna continue?” he asks, words low, and he’s back to being awkward. 

A small smile on your face, your foot steps behind the other, your thumb hooks over your shoulder. “I should probably check on my kids …” You trail off, Ethan doesn’t say anything, so you turn around and take a step in the other direction. 

You don’t make it far before Ethan has a hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you back, and the other finds your waist to keep you steady against him. He kisses you, and you melt into it, chest pushing against his, hands fisting in the bottom of his shirt. You’re willing to stay like this a little longer, but the footsteps get louder from inside, and it acts as an alarm, warning you of Chad’s incoming arrival, which comes just as you two pull away with enough room between you both to be deemed slightly platonic. 

Chad doesn’t acknowledge you both again, whistling to himself as he walks away, and you and Ethan stay silent until he’s far away enough for either of you to speak. 

“Still wanna check on your kids?” Ethan asks, eyebrows raised knowingly. 

You take a second to think about it, eyes scanning over Ethan’s brown curls, his pretty eyes, his pink tinged cheeks and his even pinker lips, the way they’re swollen with enough evidence that you were there. And you have your decision when your eyes reach his shoulders, strong even under his shirt, a piece of his body you’ve seen during lake days but you were never really allowed to ogle due to wanting to seem professional. 

“I’m sure the others have them handled.”

[destinyisastar]

I'm the Fool 🥀

Alright I haven't written a single thing in MONTHS! So, one of my current interests is Hazbin Hotel so here is an idea for an Alastor story!

Think of the song Goddess by Laufey for future reference. This is just a part of the story (which may be the reason the title doesn't make sense yet) tell me if you'd like to see where else this can go! *This was written with a fem reader in mind*

Alastor x Reader

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Imagine:

You were an outstanding jazz singer. Your voice would send chills to anyone that was nearby. You wanted to be famous and knew that one day everyone would know your name. Your next stop on your tour for fame was in a bar in New Orleans ran by a woman named Mimzy.

It was tiny little place nothing too big, but it was better than nothing. Mimzy greeted you and your crew at the door. She showed you to your dressing room and gave the crew time set up on stage.

"Alright everyone! Settle down! Settle down now!", Mimzy takes a breath, "We have a special show for you all tonight!" cheering could be heard.

"Now you all know that I only give you what's best, besides the liquor here of course!" Mimzy giggles to herself," No, today we have a chance to see and hear a new rising star!"

You hold a hand to your heart, closing your eyes and take a deep breath.

"Please give a big loud welcome to the singing sensation Darling Y/N!" Whistling, cheering, applauding all sounds of praise can be heard.

You step on to the stage, waving. "Hello! Nice to see all you folks here tonight! Can't believe you all came here tonight to see little old me, it's simply a pleasure to be here tonight!" You giggle lightly. "How bout we get this show on the road!"

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You take a bow on stage, "Thank you all for an amazing night!"

Stepping off the stage gleefully you make your way towards the bar. "Darling! That was perfect, absolutely stunning, your gonna make it big, and when I say big, I mean big bucks!" Mimzy grabs you by the arm. "You'll have to remember me when you make it big after all I'm giving you the help you need for your little stardom." She gives you a wide grin.

"Yes, I'll remember you, I just need to make it there first, and it's not all about the money." You tell her calmly.

"Why of course it's about money, everything is about money, you can't be famous without being rich!" Mimzy laughs. "Silly girl, you still have a lot to learn!" Mimzy takes hold of your hand and begins to walk you through the small club. "I have an idea! Why don't I be your manager?! I can be a big help! I'll get you into all the clubs you need. "

You never really thought about having a manager, you like taking care of things yourself.

"Well, at the moment, Mimzy, I'm really not looking for a manager, I'd just like to keep singing wherever I go, it doesn't really matter where." You say smiling at her.

Mimzy's face scrunches up a bit and she holds your hand tighter. "Well, that's fine I guess but you'll need me one way or another." She mumbles and lets go of your hand. " Whatever, I'd like for you to come back again, you brought in a hefty amount of people, and they absolutely adored you!"

"You really think they did?" You ask shyly.

"Of course I do! Didn't you hear all that cheering? That was all for you and that voice of yours."

You smile, "Yeah I did hear it."

Mimzy grins, "Even though you didn't make me your manager, I'm gonna hold out on your deal that you'll remember me and give me a part of your fame, so I'm gonna introduce you to someone."

"Who's this someone?" You follow Mimzy as she leads you to a table in the corner. You start to feel nervous.

"He'll want to introduce himself, so I'll leave that to him." Mimzy takes a look at you, "Don't worry dear! He's nothing to be afraid of!"

At the table you see a man sitting there with a glass in his hand. You take a moment to take him in. As if he could feel you staring at him, he looks right into your eyes. He stands up from his chair and meets you both halfway.

"Alastor! There you are! Why are you all the way over here?! I thought you'd be in the front!" Mimzy puts her hands on her hips. You stand behind Mimzy suddenly feeling shy.

"Why Mimzy you know I'd want my own view." The man named Alastor says smiling.

"I picked out a seat specially for you for that exact reason!" Mimzy huffs briefly. She puts a hand on the small of your back and pushes in front of her. "Don't be shy now." She whispers to you.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, quite the pleasure Miss Y/N." Alastor holds his hand out and you take it with a stutter. " Pleasure to meet you as well." You say to him feeling that your hand is a bit sweaty.

He takes your hand putting it up towards his lips and gives it a light kiss. Your face begins to warm.

"My, your voice is absolutely beautiful. I don't think I've ever heard such heavenly sounds before." He tells you letting your hand fall yet not fully letting go of your hand.

"Thank you for the compliment, although I'm not that great to be compared to heaven."

"Nonsense my dear, have some confidence in yourself! You are bound to be heard by the heavens themselves."

"You give me too much praise mister." You look away from him, feeling small in his gaze.

"The praise is very well intended, and please call me Alastor." You look back towards him.

"Ahem, Alastor" Mimzy nudges him, and he lets go of your hand. "Tell them what you do."

Alastor takes a look down at her and fixes his glasses," Yes, yes Mimzy I will," He looks back at you giving you a smile. "My dear I am a radio host in fact I'm the most famous host in all of New Orleans, and I'd be most delighted to have you as a guest."

"Really? I'm not all that special, I haven't got much experience, I don't think I'm radio material yet..." You begin to ramble.

Alastor just smiles and tilts his head slightly, "My dear," You look at him and give him a smile of your own. "It would be my pleasure to have you there with me."

You take a minute for yourself, "Alright I'll give it a shot," He grins even wider, " you'll help me right, Alastor? "

"Yes, of course I will darling."

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Alright! This just the beginning, please give me your thoughts. I haven't done this in a while. I'll start posting again soon enough once I make myself write again.

Have a good day!!

[dreamofbetterthings]

"The things I can show you." Thomas Doherty x Reader

Prompt: “Oh, the things I can show you, little one.” Celebrity: Thomas Doherty/Walter Deville Movie: The Invitation Spoilers: None, this follows nothing from the movie. Summary: Filming for you and Thomas' new movie was a breeze… until he walked onto the set with fangs. Word Count: 4K

Warnings: 18+ choking kink, pet names (honey, sweetheart), biting kink, slight dubcon towards the beginning, dirty talk, slight impregnation kink?, begging, blood? I think that's all. If I miss any please let me know.

Minors DNI You are responsible for your own content consumption. I can tell you the post is not for minors, but if you choose not to listen, that is on you.

A/N I pulled this out of my head in the wee hours of the morning and could not lay back down until it was written and published. Reader is AFAB (assigned female at birth) I know my uploading schedule is shit. I am working on it. Also, chapter 3 of It's Been A Long, Long Time will be up soon. Until then, here's some slow-burn smut to keep ya nasties entertained. You're welcome.

You and Thomas spent nearly every day together on set. Even when he wasn't set to shoot anything that day, he was always hanging around the director to see every scene you filmed. The Invitation was a well-talked-about movie and based on what the folks on social media were saying, you were excited to let the world see the finished result. Thomas always managed to know when you would walk onto the set, and be the first person to speak to you.

"Good morning. I have a coffee for you." Thanking him, you took the coffee and all but chugged it. When you could hear his laughter, you pulled away from the cup.

"Oh come on. You act like you don't do the same thing when we've been filming all day." He puts his hands up in surrender and smiles.

"I won't deny that." Thomas grabs a script from a nearby table and flips through the sections of the script that are blocked in blue.

"Speaking of filming, most of the scenes look relatively quick for today. I think we're doing the last bit of scenes between the two of us and then we'll shift to the courtyard stuff after lunch." He shows you the script and before you can say anything, his name is being called into hair and makeup.

"And let the chaos ensue." He lets out a little chuckle.

"I wish you weren't right about that. I'll see you on the set?" Nodding your head you hear your own name being called. "Absolutely. Let's kill it today!" The two of you walk in your respective directions toward hair and makeup.

Run.

That was the only thing on your mind right now. Your feet hammered against the ground as you ran through the hallway. Your heart pounded against your chest, body aching. Your bag along with your phone was long gone as you ran for your life. Whoever that was, whatever it was that you were running away from, was not human. It looked like one, it sounded like one, but you knew better. An ominous growl came from behind and you could hear footsteps towards you.

You sprinted around the corner and took many twists and turns throughout the house, but every door you came to was somehow now locked, despite not being earlier. Running a few more feet down the hall you managed to find an unlocked door. You quickly ran into the room and silently closed the door before locking it.

It was another bedroom. The windows were barred and there were no other interconnecting rooms. You were screwed. The only places to hide were under the bed and in the closet. You decided against trying to fit your large dress under the bed and slipped into the surprisingly spacious closet. After what felt like an eternity of silence, there was a jiggle of the doorknob. A menacing laugh was heard on the other end of the door, before a large bang, and the door flew open.

Peering through the cracks of the doors, you saw him. You could see his shadow in the dimly lit room as he walked past your hiding spot and looked around. As he padded further into the room, you slid as far back as you could into the clothing, praying he wouldn’t know you were there. Through the thin slots of the closet door, you could see he was just standing there. Almost like he was thinking. Your eyes closed, and you silently hoped he would just go check somewhere else. That’s when you heard it.

"There you are."

Your eyes shot open. The door to the closet was pulled open, and he was staring directly into your soul. You quickly duck as he reaches out to grab you and somehow manage to make it to the other door. Just as your hand goes to turn the knob, a pair of hands reach around your waist, and you let out a scream you didn’t even know your voice was capable of creating. For a split second, you feel the wind around you, then the bed sheets violently connect with your back. You wished the mattress would just swallow you whole. Too afraid to look at the monster hovering above, you turn your face to the side. The creature finally speaks.

“Well, that took longer than expected. Had me thinking you’d actually make it out of here.”

“We had a deal.” There was nothing to hide how your voice trembled. The bed shook as he actually laughed.

“I don’t think you quite understood the rules of the game, honey. The rules were, if you managed to make it outside, I would let you go. But if you didn’t…” His hand finds its way around your throat and your shaking continues as he forces you to look at his face. The only thing catching your attention are the two abnormally sharp canines in his mouth. “Then you would stay here, with me.” He looks around the room and then back at you. “Last time I checked, you’re still in the house sweetheart.” He sees the tears running down your face and brushes them away with his other hand. “Don’t be so sad about it. Think of it this way. I try to be a man of my word. If you did find some magical way of making it outside, I would’ve let you go. No surprises, no tricks, nothing… but you didn’t. Do you know what that means?” His grip around your throat gets tighter and you feel a small amount of blood run as one of his claws scratches the side of your neck. He takes a deep inhale and groans. “That means we can have all the fun I had planned for you.”

Your eyes widen in fear and you want to move, but you can’t due to his grip around your throat. He turns your head to the side and you close your eyes. Not wanting to know what he’s going to do. Reaching down to your neck, he sticks his tongue out and licks up the bead of blood that gathered on your neck. Your entire body shakes. Moving his head, you can feel his fangs graze against your ear as he whispers. “Oh, the things I can show you, little one.”

“AND CUT!”

Thomas’ hand instantly leaves your throat and he takes your hands to pull you up so your back is against the headboard. “Are you alright? You were shaking really bad.” Not trusting your voice at the moment, you nod your head and laugh nervously. “Dude, you’re scary as fuck.” He laughs in response and wraps his arms around you in a hug. You do the same and the director, Oliver, comes over to the side of the bed visibly concerned. “Are you two okay?”

Looking over at Thomas, he gives you a smile and gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. You nod and smile. “Yeah, we’re good Oli.” He offers his hand and helps get the two of you out of the ridiculously large bed. As you straighten out your dress, Oliver speaks again. “I know we only did one take, but that was probably the best one we’ve gotten since filming started.” He turns and looks at you. “There was no point throughout the entire scene where I wasn’t genuinely scared for you. If the two of you keep this up, we might finish ahead of schedule.” The two of you thank him and walk over to his chair to watch the playback of the scene.

One of the assistants brings water for the two of you and you both thank her. Oliver plays the scene back from the beginning and instead of focusing on your own work, the second Thomas appears on the screen, and suddenly you feel the heat making its way through your body.

He looked really good.

And those fangs…

You could melt into the floor right about now. Oliver and Thomas are talking but you can’t manage to listen in on the conversation, let alone say anything. Your attention was on Thomas and how he managed to look attractive and terrifying at the same time. There were times when you swore the only reason he signed onto this film was because he liked being a bad guy. It was like he reveled in it, and he did it so well. Your eyes stay glued to the screen and you don’t notice Thomas watching how you respond to his presence.

You tossed your keys onto the counter of your hotel room, your shoes come off and you let yourself fall back on the bed. A loud sigh leaves your lips. There has never been a day that you wanted filming to end so badly. After a couple of seconds, you throw your phone on the charger and finally pull yourself up from the bed, grab your towel and clothes, and head for a much-needed shower. You quickly change and when the temperature is just right, you step in and immediately feel your shoulders relax.

As you wash your body off, you start to think to yourself, why were you so worked up today? After the first scene with Thomas, every slight brush of his hand against yours, or hand on your back sent a wave of heat throughout your body. Simple motions that are seemingly harmless in nature were reducing you to a trembling mess. Granted, you don't have a partner, so sexual frustration could definitely be the cause, but why now? You feel the heat spread to your core just at the thought. Shaking your head, you finish your shower and change into your shirt and underwear that you brought into the bathroom with you.

After drying your hair, the steam from your previous shower dissipates as you walk into the other room and you look around confused.

You could've sworn you kept the lights on.

Shaking your head, you cut on the soft light on your nightstand and reach for your phone.

Which was not on the charger where you left it.

Now you're starting to freak out.

Looking around the room, it seems like your phone is nowhere in sight. Almost like it disappeared. You check your bag, in case you didn't actually plug it in, but it's not there. Nothing in the clothes you wore that day, hell, you even checked your suitcase. Your phone is just gone. Going over to the hotel phone, you pick it up and try to dial your number, only to realize the phone cord is missing from the base. You stand there frustrated and a little scared for a couple of seconds before a voice snaps your head towards the front door.

"You didn't think I'd make it easy for you to call for help, did you?"

Slowly reaching for the heaviest thing closest to you, the shadow walks into the light and you let out a sigh of relief. "Jesus, Thomas. You can't sneak up on someone when they're fresh out of the shower!" Walking over to him, you ask. "So unless a crazed fan managed to break in, I'm assuming you have my phone?" He pulls something out of his pocket and you see the familiar case, indicating he did in fact, have it.

Flashing it in front of your face, you reach to grab your phone, but he leans away from you so you can't take it. "Yeah, I don't think you'll be needing it tonight." Giving him a "Really?" you go to get your phone and he pulls it away from your grasp once again. Letting out a frustrated huff, you put your hands on your hips. "Come on Thomas, give me my phone. I have to check my emails." You see him toss your device behind him, lucky that there was a couch sitting where it landed, and when he turns back to you, he speaks again. "Like I said. I don't think you'll be needing it tonight. After all, why would I make it easy for you to call for help?" Your eyebrows furrow, and you laugh, although slightly uncomfortable with how the air in the room seemed to shift. It felt, darker. Every bone in your body told you to leave. Turning around to look for a pair of pants, you mumble to yourself. "Alright, I did not plan on my night ending like this."

Turning around, you let out a scream and drop your sweatpants as a hand comes up and covers your mouth. He was standing so close you could feel his breath on your face. Looking Thomas in the eyes, they were dark, and you suddenly felt like you were no longer safe in his presence. "I don't think you quite understand the rules of the game honey." He stares into your eyes and the next thing you know, your feet are walking backward on their own until you are stopped by the edge of the bed. He remembers his hand is covering your mouth and speaks again. "The rules were, if you managed to make it outside, I would let you go. But if you didn’t…Then you would stay with me. Do you know what that means?” You struggle to get out a couple of muffled sounds when he brings his face closer to yours. “That means we can have all the fun I had planned for you.”

Your eyes widen as the lamp in the room shows his face fully, and that's when you see it.

He was in the outfit from the first scene you two filmed earlier that morning. You glance down at his mouth and you feel the heat pool at your legs.

He had the fangs in.

He leans his mouth down against your ear like he did earlier that day, and repeated the same line. “Oh, the things I can show you, little one.” Next thing you know you're being laid down on the bed, and the man you once knew as your friend was hovering over you. "What do you want with me?" Your voice was weak, and judging from the smile that never left his face, he was enjoying this. He was enjoying toying with you. He leans down and drags his tongue against your neck, earning a strained whine to leave your mouth. "I simply want what I've been waiting this whole time for…you. I've seen the way you look at me when you think nobody is watching. And it made me want to take you then and there, but no. I couldn't do it with so many people around. So, what better time than now? Your phone is off, the landline is disconnected, and as far as anybody coming to rescue you goes, they all think you're headed to sleep with the rest of the cast."

If there was any time to hate yourself for not wearing pants to bed, now was that time. Thomas moved your legs apart with his knee and ground his hips into you, showing you just how tight the bulge in his jeans had become. You let out a small gasp that he managed to catch, and he let out a smile. "Something tells me you're enjoying yourself more than I expected. I don't even think I'll have to compel you." His large hands lift up the bottom of your shirt, exposing your underwear, and you shiver as the cool night air exposes you in such an intimate place. He carefully pulls the thin fabric down and off your ankles with ease, and your body goes tense. He looks you in the eyes and asks the last question you thought could ever come out of his mouth.

"Do I have your permission honey?" You shift needily against the bed as you let out a small "Yes." That's the only approval he asks before his fingers gently reach down and feel the wetness between your folds and you sigh quietly. A groan leaves his lips. "Is all that for me baby? You like it when I touch you like this?" His slender fingers brush against your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through you, making you unknowingly moan. "There we go. You're such a good girl for me." He does it again, and again until he's rubbing gentle circles on your clit at an agonizingly slow pace. Your body relaxes into the bed as Thomas continues whispering into your ear. "That's is baby. Relax. It's just you and me. I want you to enjoy this."

He was taking his time with you, and to an outsider looking in, it was almost sweet. Not long after, the fear left your brain and was replaced with nothing but bliss. He must've been able to tell when your last fighting bit of sanity faded because he became more eager. "There's so much I want to do with you, honey. I want to taste you until you cum on my tongue. Wanna feel you clench around my cock as I ravish you." His hand on your clit sped up a little. "I wanna see the look on your face when you come undone because of me. At first, I didn't think you could take it. But I know you can. I know you can take all of me. I know you can handle everything I give you because you're such a good girl, and I know you wanna be good for me. Right baby?" Your small whimpers have progressed to moans as you stop fighting the sensation and start to welcome it.

Out of nowhere, the feeling is gone as he removes his fingers from your clit, but quickly replaced them when he lays down and licks through your folds. Your breathing was fast and heavy as his tongue went to work. The sensation builds when he slips two fingers into you and easily starts pumping them in and out. You were almost there, and he could tell. He moaned against your clit and gently grazed it with his fangs, and that was all it took before you exploded. You threw your head back against the bed as you came, and Thomas latched onto your clit sucking on it to prolong your orgasm for as long as he could.

He finally pulls his fingers out of you and licks them clean before standing up and discarding his clothes in an almost superhuman nature, before he's back to hovering over you. His lips attach to yours and you eagerly kiss him back, tasting yourself on his tongue. "If you taste that good, I can only imagine what you feel like." Looking down at him, your eyes get wide.

He's not abnormally huge, but definitely bigger than any man you've been with to date. He rubs his cock between your folds and you moan at the overstimulation, still coming down from your high. He rests his hand on the back of your head and looks you in the eyes. "You're going to take all of me, yeah?" You can only nod as you no longer trust your voice. He leans down and captures your mouth in a kiss again as he slowly pushes inside you.

He releases your mouth to let out a moan, and by god… this was the moment you realized you were in over your head. Every time you thought he was fully in, he would slide in more, and more. He finally bottoms out and you swear you're seeing stars. No, fuck that. You were seeing galaxies. He only gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before he pulls himself almost all the way out, and sinks back in. Your eyes roll to the back of your head.

The pace was brutally slow but felt wonderful. You couldn't pay attention to anything but how he felt, and it felt ungodly. He finds his own rhythm within a few thrusts and it was like you died and went to wherever the hell you were currently. He brings his other hand from around your waist and slides it down to your leg, wrapping it around his waist and allowing him to sink in just a little deeper, and you cry out.

A smile forms on his lips and he keeps his hand on your leg, refusing to let you not feel the full extent of what this angle could provide. Noticing your hands are gripping your bedsheets, he moves his hand from behind your head and takes your own to grab at his body. He thrusts into you again, and again, over and over, the new angle allowing him to drag his cock against just the right spot that drove you wild. Leaning down to rest his forehead against yours, he pants out. "Fuck, baby. It's like this sweet pussy of yours was made for me."

You could feel your second orgasm building and lord help you because you were so close. Thomas seemed to notice as well, your walls practically trying to suck him in completely. He speeds up his pace ever so slightly and that's when you feel the pressure of his hand going around your neck. He leans down and talks into your ear. "I can feel you're close honey. God. I'm going to put a fucking baby in you. Would you like that? You want me to cum inside this gorgeous little cunt, huh?" You moan and try to nod as your nails scratch up and down his arms and back. "Yes, yes Thomas, please!" He laughs a little at how you answered him. "Aw, yeah? You're so cock drunk you're begging me to cum inside your pretty pussy?" He makes you look at him as your eyes keep closing. "Beg for it again, and maybe, if you're good for me, I'll let you cum."

Your voice is nothing but whimpers and whines as you plead with your eyes. A chorus of "Please." leaves your mouth and that satisfies him to the point where he is kissing and sucking on the side of your neck. "I want you to cum, and I want you to let everybody in this hotel know whose cock is making you feel this good. Can you do that for me?" You just nod as you feel your orgasm teetering on the edge. He applies more pressure against your throat, and that's all it takes. As your climax begins, he sinks his teeth into your neck, and you let out a struggling moan from the sensation as you cum. The only name on your lips is his over and over, like a broken record. Thomas moans against your neck and he starts to tense, holding you as close to him as possible. He seats himself as far into you as he can, and the warm feeling of his cock shooting his cum inside you only prolongs your orgasm.

After the two of you finally come down from your respective highs, he turns the two of you on your side and lies there. Giving you a chance to intake some form of oxygen. You pant out a weak "Oh my god." and you feel the rumble from his body as he laughs. "I told you, adding the fangs would be a great idea." It takes every ounce of energy in your body to raise your arm and playfully hit him. "Shut up, that was God tier even if you didn't have them in." He laughs again and as he agrees, you ask, "Where the hell did all that dirty talk come from?" Thomas shrugs his shoulders and smiles. "A master of his craft never reveals his secrets." Playfully rolling your eyes, a yawn escapes your mouth.

Thomas pulls out of you and you sigh sadly at the loss of contact, only for him to pull the blanket over you and get up off the bed to grab your phones. You watch as he plugs them both into the wall and climbs back into bed before cutting the light off. Cuddling into his chest, your legs intertwine and you both lay there in comfortable silence, until a thought pops into your head, making you laugh a little. "What's so funny?" You think about the situation and explain.

"Had I known it would've taken you stealing my phone from me to get you to put the fangs in, I would've let you take it a long time ago." The two of you laugh and he asks, "Is that your way of telling me you want Mr. Deville to peek his head back in the bedroom again?" He realizes that at some point, he's going to have to tell you that the fangs aren't fake. But that thought leaves his mind as he feels himself getting hard again at your answer "As far as I'm concerned, he can come back anytime he wants." Thomas lets out an "Oh really?" before flipping the two of you so he's sitting between your legs again. "Because I think he's still hungry." A moan leaves your lips as Thomas sinks his cock back into you, and you mentally prepare for the terrible time you're going to have to try and get up in the morning.