#i know he's meant to be showing me it but i want to see one in the game

[satorusugurugurl]

hiiiii!!! I love your work💗💗💗

Could you do giving the JJK men a honey pack lol

I keep seeing it on my fyp😂

JJK Men: It’s Just Honey—Right?

Summary: JJK Men are given a honey pack, an aphrodisiac, and a male enhancer! What could possibly go wrong?

Characters: Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna(Modern AU), AFAB!Reader

Warnings: aphrodisiac use, smut, public play, language, degradation, unprotected sex, choking, oral sex (F receiving), prone bone, multiple positions, multiple orgasms. Somno

Word Count: 8.7K

A/N: Nonnie, sorry this request took so long! It just sort of took on a mind of its own! I hope you enjoy it. I know I did! 🥴💚

Geto Suguru:

“Does stuff like this even work?” You asked as you lay on the bed in the love hotel you were stuck in.

You and Geto had gotten stuck in a typhoon, and instead of risking one of the assistant supervisor's safety, to come pick you up. You both decided staying in a hotel for the night would be best. The only problem was that the only hotel with rooms was a love hotel. Which, of course, wasn’t an issue for you both, seeing that you were dating happily but were stuck in a love hotel to see all sorts of exciting things.

A majority of the things you saw were related to sex, from sex toys, videos, and male enhancers. You have heard about more common ones like Viagra. But you had never seen one as a pack of honey before. You tossed it up in the air, catching it in your palm before tossing it back into the air, watching the foil package flip before landing back into the palm of your hand. Your boyfriend looked at you from his chair across the room with an amused smile.

“Is this your way of asking if I’ve taken enhancers in the past before?”

“What, no, never! I was just wondering if they work. I’ve never taken one before. I know they make some for women. I’m just lucky enough that I’ve never needed it.”

“Well, I can assure you that I’ve never needed to take one before myself.”

“Oh, trust me, I am well aware of that.”

Suguru placed his book down before taking a long look at you. You were nothing but booty shorts and his T-shirt. You looked good enough to eat right now, and your curiosity had piqued a curious interest of his own. No one was coming for you both until the morning, which meant you had time to kill—or better yet, time to screw each other‘s brains out.

“Hey, can I see that for a second?”

Not thinking much of your boyfriend’s request, you threw the package at him, your eyes glued to the ceiling before you heard a ripping sound. For a second, you thought maybe it had been your imagination. There was no way your boyfriend, who was very logical, ripped open the aphrodisiac honey, but there was the only way to be sure that he hadn’t done something like that; slowly, you turned your head as your boyfriend squeezed the entire package into his mouth, violet eyes watching you as he did so there was a dark, mischievous glee behind them as he stuck his tongue out, letting the honey drip all over his tongue.

You sputtered and blinked before opening and closing your mouth in disbelief. ”S-Suguru? What did you do?” Suguru’s pink tone darted out slowly, trailing over his bottom lip. Not once did his eyes leave yours.

“I’m conducting an experiment.”

“An experiment?”

“A majority of the time, stuff like this doesn’t work. It’s mostly for show, like a placebo for the brain. So we want to know if it works, so let’s put it to the test.”

It was safe to say that Suguru’s initial theory was wrong. The honey packet that he ingested was, in effect, a very real aphrodisiac. He was fine; one second, and the next, his cock was as hard as a diamond. Regret settled in his bones as he glanced back at you, who had taken notice of the tent in his pants. You didn’t say anything; instead, your actions spoke volumes. You took your shirt off by throwing it in his face, followed by your shorts and your underwear.

He swallowed, cheeks flushing, a dusty rose before he was up in on you like green on grass. The normal foreplay and preparation he always carefully took was the furthest thing on his mind. All he could focus on was how hard his cock hurt. It throbbed painfully as he tugged his pants down, freeing his erection—the tip red with rage as he spit into his hand, lubing it up.

“Need you.” he snarled, “I fucking need you.”

Suguru didn’t even give you a chance to respond to him. Because the second you opened your mouth, he had flipped you over onto your stomach while he laid flat on top of pressing the head of covk against your tight entrance. You shuddered, gripping the sheets as he slammed into you, gritting his teeth as he buried his face in the space between your shoulder blades. The sensation of his hot breath against your cool skin sent shivers throughout your body, causing goosebumps to rise in their wake.

Your boyfriend had lost it. He had entirely completely and irrefutably lost his composure. And you weren’t at all upset about it.

“Fuuuck!” You cried out as he set a brutal pace. “S-Sugu—-!”

“Need you.” He repeated in an almost primal growl. “I need all of you!”

You squeaked out a whimper as he sank his teeth into your shoulder before leaving a trail of kisses and hickeys all along your skin. He was marking you up, claiming you as his and his alone. The need that seeped out of his being through his actions and words left you feeling dizzy.

“S-Sugu!”

“Ahhn! Fuck! Princess.”

Watching him lose control like this, feeling him pressing against you in the rawest way, had your eyes rolling back as he forced himself inside. Your muffled moans left Suguru's cock throbbing so hard inside of you that he was afraid he would cum right then in there. He wasn't sure if it was the honey, or his own desire, but he was losing himself at the feeling of being inside of you. You were so wet and tight, and god, you smelt heavenly.

This new-found lust, the desire, had him digging his hands into the sheets underneath you. The earthy musk had your head spinning, fueling your desire as if you had partaken of the honey yourself. You cried out as Suguru continued littering your skin with bites. It was so raw, so hot, and you were already on the edge.

“S-Sugu!” You cried out, feeling your walls clamping around him, squeezing him for all that he was worth. “Suguru I-I—!”

You didn't need to say those last few words as a curtain of dark hair fell around you. “I know,” Suguru grunted, pulling all the way out before slamming into you, making the bed creak under your combined weight. “I can feel it~ feel your tight walls convulsing; I feel you trying to hold back.” His lips pressed against your cheek, breath hot against your sweat-sheened skin. “Don't do that, baby~ I wanna feel you~ wanna make you feel good with my cock.” Your hips rolled shamelessly back against Suguru’s cock, his words egging you.

“C-Close—”

“Yeah, it feels good, doesn't it, Princess~? My thick cock stretching you out, making you feel so good?”

“M-Mhmm!” Your toes curled, breathing quickening as Suguru used all of his strength to fuck you into the mattress. “F-Fuck! I-I’m gonna! Gonna!”

“Yeah— cum for me, baby! Cum all over my cock.”

His words alone, dark and needy, sent you tumbling over the edge. You screamed into the pillow, crying tears of ecstasy as your orgasm was ripped out of you. It was violent and oh-so-tucking good, leaving you a convulsing mess underneath your boyfriend, who shuddered, cock throbbing inside of you. Warmth flooded your pussy as he came, the hot spurt filling you, but not once did Suguru stop. He kept going fucking into you like a crazed animal, stopping you as you weakly tried pulling away.

Once he stopped, you shakily lifted your head out of the sheets, crying out softly as his still-hard cock twitched inside of you. It seemed as though the package wasn't lying about enhancing male performance. Your boyfriend had just filled you up and was raring to go for another round, which was both alluring and terrifying at the same time.

“You okay?” Suguru questioned, voice gravely in your ear as he gently peppered your skin with kisses. You swallowed hard, trying to alleviate the burning in your throat. “Good.”

Without a warning, Suguru slowly began thrusting in and out of you. He kept his pace soft and sweet to not overstimulate you. But before you knew it, those soft, slow thrusts were replaced with the mean, bullying backshots he had just given you. He kept that pace up for over an hour. Face down, ass up on the mattress. His cock had been so hard that it hurt, and no matter how many times he had cum inside of you, it didn't feel like it was enough.

Until he was the one suffering from the overstimulation. He was panting and crying against your lips as his cock throbbed inside of you, draining the last of his cum inside of your wet and willing hole. Both of you were completely gone at that point. Nothing more than a heap of twitching muscles as Suguru lay down, staring up at the ceiling in a daze.

“Y-You good?” You asked in between gasps.

Suguru swallowed hard, reaching for a water bottle on the side of the bed and handing it to you. “S-So fucking good—“ Suguru sighed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you tight against his side. “I-I think that e-experiment was a success.” You swallowed the last gulp before handing the half bottle to your boyfriend.

“A success indeed.” He slowly reached for his phone, texting on the screen with a lazy smirk. “And it’s an experiment gonna get me out of some paperwork.”

“Huh?”

“I’m gonna tell Satoru about it. Get out of some work for a while.”

“Oooh, texting your ‘boyfriend’ after you just put me in ninety-nine positions?” There was a joking tone to your teasing, but your boyfriend scoffed, sitting up to hover over you.

He pressed a gentle kiss against your lips. “I’m texting my best friend this so I can get out of extra work and spend that free time with you—” he reached for the nightstand waving the other honey pack in your face. “and the honey pack.”

“Well, what the hell are you waiting for? Text him!”

Gojo Satoru:

You had been minding your business, watching some trashy reality TV show, when a box was tossed on the coffee table. You pull your eyes away from the screen long enough to watch a flash of white blur before Satoru plopped down on the ground. Something was going on, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to participate. He snickered, rubbing his hands together as he looked the box over. Something was going on, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to participate.

But your curiosity got the better, urging you to find out why your boyfriend was in such a good mood. “What are you up to, Toru?” Your body almost moved as you kicked your blanket off, sitting on the floor beside him.

“Suguru and I made a bet.”

Yeah, if it were a bet between the two idiots, you definitely would not want to participate in this with them.

“What is with the two of you making bets against each other?” Satoru lost his hearing when it came to that comment. “Baby, what even is this?”

To answer your question, he ripped the tape off the box opening it up. Reaching his hand inside, he pulled out a pouch. The words ‘Honey Package’ were written in red, with hearts surrounding it. Before you could even begin telling Gojo, you had no intentions of taking whatever was in it. He flipped it over, resting it against the palm of his hand, revealing the clear backside of the package. Inside was a thick amber-colored liquid, which looked just like honey.

“This is like Viagra, but in honey form.”

“Satoru, keeping up with your stamina already is nearly too much. There’s no way you need to take one of those!”

“Ooh, please, you love my stamina. It keeps up with your sex drive.” He wasn't wrong about that at all. “Besides, there’s no way this shit works.”

Oh, well, this conversation took off in a completely different direction. “Huh?” You blinked, eyeing the package as Satoru squished it in his hand, using it like a stress ball. “Wait, you don’t think it’s gonna work?” Cerulean eyes almost glimmered with annoyance as they darted in your direction.

“Baby, these aphrodisiacs never work. What happens is you eat a bunch of strawberry chocolate, and you think that it’s an aphrodisiac urging you to fuck. This right here.” The foil packaging crumpled slightly. He ripped up one of the corners. “Is some rich assholes gimmick to try to make a bunch of money. These Influencers get a free sample and act like they fuck all night. They make a commission off of it. So yes, I don’t think it works.”

“But Suguru does? I thought for sure it would be the other way around.”

“Yeah, this is gonna be the easiest bet I’m gonna win.” You hummed, watching as Satoru squeezed the honey into his mouth. “I’m going to make him every single dessert from the many of the newest cafés downtown.”

“And what does he get if you lose?”

“Bragging rights, and I would have to do all his paperwork for an entire week.”

Satoru sighed constantly at the thought of syncing his teeth into some delicious sweets as he tossed the empty package onto the table before kicking his feet out in front of him, placing his hands behind his head. He had this in the bag, no doubt about that.

It only took thirty minutes to pass.

You were the first to notice something wasn't quite right with your loving boyfriend. He looked flushed; his hands gripped the sofa cushions for dear life, and sweat began to bead on his forehead. You decided it would be best for you to keep an eye on him in case he had some kind of reaction to the honey. It could be dangerous to take enhancers like that, not knowing what sort of effect they would have on the person. The last thing you wanted was for him to get sick.

Another ten minutes passed, and Satoru threw his jacket off along with his pants, leaving him in nothing but his T-shirt and boxers. Although he had put himself in this state, you hated seeing him in such discomfort. With a heavy sigh, you got on your knee and pressed your hand against his forehead. He was hot to the touch, and you needed to lower his temperature.

“Toru, sweetie, let's get you in the shower, okay?” He panted heavily, cloudy crystalline blue eyes meeting yours. “We'll take a cool shower to get your temperature down.”

“I—-need—”

You frowned, leaning closer toward his mouth. “What was that? You need what?” Satoru's pretty lips quivered before his hand flew up, grabbing you by the arms and pushing you against the sofa. “T-Toru.” Your boyfriend towered above you, panting heavily as he looked you up and down with a growl, his erection throbbing in his boxers.

“I need you.” He growled, his hand reaching down, squeezing his cock. “I need you so bad; it hurts, baby. Please, please, I need you.”

Two things were clear to you at that moment. One, your boyfriend would be doing a ton of paperwork for the next month, and second, you were in for a fight for your life. The logical part of your brain told you to run; he had put himself in this situation so he could deal with it on his own. The other more empathetic part of you once against hated seeing him suffering.

Against all logical reasoning, you sighed, reaching down and tugging your shorts and panties off.

“You're not ever taking this shit again.” You Pulled him up, heading to the bedroom, where you shoved him down on the bed. “This shit has you all hot, chemicals and stuff.”

“It’s all organic.” He barked out, pulling you down onto the mattress with him. “It’s not so much bad as it’s well—” he trailed his fingers up the curves of your breasts. “It’s different,” Gojo finally whispered, his hand mimicking slowly moving up along your collarbone, sliding down the swell of your breasts. Your breath caught in your throat as he began massaging them, “And different isn't always a bad thing.” he nipped at your ear.

Gojo’s fingers slid further down, tracing circles around your nipples. They hardened automatically, causing you to arch your back at the sensations. Perhaps he was right—maybe this wasn't as bad as you thought it was going to be. You moaned, running your hand over Gojo’s crotch, palming at his already throbbing erection. Your moans and Gojo’s growls of pleasure began mixing, making it sound as though there was a promo playing in the background. But there wasn't; it was just you and your very hornh boyfriend.

“Fuck I need to touch you, Sweetie.” He said in a barely audible tone against the crook of your neck, “God, I need to. Need to be inside of you.” His hand slid further down, teasing your mound with careful fingers. As he did, he nipped and sucked on your neck, leaving you whimpering as you straddled him. You bucked your hips into his hand, craving more of his touch, wanting to feel his skin on your intimate parts.

“Toru, don’t tease me.” you begged through moans as you slid your hand into his boxers, “touch me baby.” Satoru hisses as you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and stroke him up and down. The contact had Gojo growling like a wild beast, thrusting into your hand, his fingers slipping further down until his entire hand was cupping your dripping sex.

You felt as though you were high off the honey as you inhaled sharply when his fingers slid up and down the lips of your pussy. “Holy shit, Sweetheart,” he growled lustfully in your ear, “you’re so fuckin’ wet.” Those long sinful fingers of his rubbed circles around your clit, causing you to gasp, “Mhmm, and it’s all for me.”

“And you’re so hard, Gojo,” you managed to whisper, “n-not that you aren't hard all the time. But you're fuck, you're so hard!” You began rubbing the pad of your thumb over the slit of his cock, “So fucking hard.” Pre-cum smeared over the sensitive head, leaving him moaning loudly as he dipped his fingers inside of you, pumping them. He watched as you peered up at him, moaning, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer.

Your boyfriend pressed his forehead against yours as he kept pumping his fingers. The fucking honey was enhancing everything he felt. The adoration for you, the lust, fuck he had never been this horny in his entire life. He let those feelings fuel him, helping him move as the two of you worked each other towards extraordinary mind-blowing orgasm.

Gojo curled his fingers, brushing them across your g-spot. You gasped loudly, squeezing his cock, causing him to growl loudly, pumping faster and harder against that sweet spot. You did your best to hold out as long as you could; you didn't want to cum too soon.

“Sweetheart,” Gojo licked your earlobe, nibbling it between his teeth. “Cum for me.” When he told you to do so, that was a different story.

You came hard, rocking against his fingers. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you as Gojo kept moving his fingers, extending your orgasm. Your toes curled into the sheets as you arched your back, pressing your bare breasts against his chest. Gojo kept moving, not stopping until you were panting, basking in the afterglow of your release. When you finally opened your eyes, you met the lust-filled cerulean eyes of your boyfriend. He was staring at you, stroking your mound lazily.

“Toru,” you tugged at his shirt, “I need you to fuck me right now.” He was happy to oblige, stripping his shirt off and throwing it on the side of the bed before Gojo rolled, pushing you back against the mattress and hovering over you. He looked like he was seconds away from cumming, so you decided it would be best for you to take control, so you quickly rolled, flipping him back over so you were straddling him.

“Fuck, Sweetheart,” His voice was as grave as he groaned, gripping your hips as you lowered yourself onto his impressive cock. You shivered, resisting the urge to start riding him right then and there and opting to enjoy the feeling of him stretching you out. “Sweetie,” Satoru groaned, squeezing your hips. “Nngh!!” the honey had him desperate, wanting to fuck, so for you just to sit there, not moving, was literal torture. “Holy nngh! Fuck please, ride me already. You’re killing me here!” He thrusts up, causing you to gasp, making you bounce up and down. “That’s more like it.”

You nodded, grabbing your boyfriend's hands and sliding up the curves of your body before placing them on your breasts. Understanding your silent request, Satoru massaged and kneaded them, brushing his thumb and index fingers over your sensitive nipples. You whimpered, rocking your hips, his cock hitting your g-spot with every rock of your hips. Gojo sat up, thrusting eagerly to meet your rhythm.

You dig your fingers into Gojo’s fluffy tufts of pristine white hair, pulling him close to your breasts. He took the hint, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, tugging, sucking, and nipping at it. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. His fingers dug into the small of your back; you were pretty sure you were going to have bruises there tomorrow.

With each thrust from Gojo, you grew closer and closer, chasing your orgasm. Gojo's mouth continued to assault your nipples, teasing them ever so slightly. By this time, you and Gojo's moans groans, and growls of pleasure flooded the room. The two of you were so loud you were positive the neighbors would file a noise complaint against you.

But you didn't give a fuck about that.

All that mattered was how good Satoru felt. How your nails dug into his back, scratching at his flawless skin as he thrusts deeper and harder inside of you. You let out screams, digging your nails deeper into his skin as he flips the two of you over. Gojo stares at you before slamming his lips on yours. His tongue is fighting against yours for dominance. He growls, thrusting faster and deeper inside you.

“Toru, I’m gonna cum!” You gasped, gripping his hair and staring into his stunning eyes. He stares back into yours; he smirks, pressing his forehead against yours, kissing your lips softly.

“Cum for me, sweetie,” he mutters against your lips, “Haaah~ fuck yes, cum for me, cum with me.” He pounded ruthlessly into you, gripping the headboard and slamming into your g-spot.

You wrapped your legs around his digging your heels in his ass and pulling him deeper. And it sends you over the edge, you gasp, your orgasm rippling through you. You tighten around Gojo, and he groans, burying his face in your neck as he thrusts a few more times before following you over the edge, cumming inside you.

You lay there, Gojo’s weight crushing you, but you don't mind. After taking a second to catch his breath, he chuckled softly, pulling out of you before laying on his back, placing you flat on his chest. He took a deep breath, running his finger through your hair. You turned your head, resting it over his heart with a dorky smile.

“That was—”

“Amazing,” Gojo finished for you. That was amazing.” You giggled, nodding in agreement.

“Beyond amazing.”

“Mhmm.”

“Hey Gojo?” He lifted his head, staring into your eyes.

“Yeah, Sweetheart?” You bite your bottom lip, kissing up his chest.

“Do you have any more of that, honey? I wanna try some with you.” You felt him tense. He grinned quickly, placing you on the side before he stood up, running out of the room and grabbing a package off the counter.

“Have as much as you like!” as you ripped the package open with your teeth, Satoru lifted your legs placing them over his shoulders as he kissed your inner thighs “Sit back and relax while you wait for it to kick in.” You swallowed the sweet liquid in your mouth before reaching down and running your hands through Gojo’s soft tufts of hair as he dragged his tongue up your slit. “I can keep myself entertained for now.”

Nanami Kento:

With Nanami working so many hours and you staying home caring for your daughter. You and Nanami hardly have any time alone anymore. Sure, you were able to sneak a date here and there—a quickie in the morning before he had to go to work. The romance, sex, and relationship were planned now. But Nanami missed the spontaneous sex; he missed laying in bed with you, hearing your gasps and moans. Feeling the way you would clamp down on him when you came.

God, he missed the sex.

Nanami sighed, running a hand over his face as he unlocked the door to your house. All the lights were off, meaning you had most likely put your daughter to bed, seeing that it was close to three in the morning. Kento dropped his keys and messenger bag on the entry table before heading into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

Sitting on the counter was a loaf of homemade bread and a package of honey. Kento cocked an eyebrow as he approached the treat that had been left out for him. A sticky note with your handwriting on it was next to the bread.

‘It must have been a long day~ enjoy this aphrodisiac honey, and wake me up in the sweetest way you can. You have his full consent even if I’m asleep. Much Love— your wife!’

Kento reread the note several times before eyeing the honey. Aphrodisiac honey? He had heard you mention it before. You suggested trying one of these weekends when you both had time together, which might be a fun treat. And he was tired and stressed from a long day. He couldn't deny how his pants tightened at the thought of waking you up horny and completely needy.

Kento sliced himself a piece of bread without much thought before smearing it with the honey. It was surprisingly good. Most aphrodisiacs he had heard of had an odd taste to them. This tasted like honey bread. And that in itself was dangerous.

Kento managed to eat two slices of honey bread before he began feeling the effects working its way down to his cock. He wanted you, and seeing that you had given him your consent, he planned on having you. Not wanting to waste any more time, Kento headed up the stairs, gripping the railing. He quickly stopped into the nursery next to your bedroom to check on your daughter, who was sleeping peacefully. Nanami smiled, brushing back a cur of her hair before leaning down and kissing her forehead before heading into the master bedroom.

The lamp on your side of the bed was still on. It looked like you had fallen asleep while reading a book, and now you are resting on your chest. Kento leaned against the front of the bed, watching his wife sleep peacefully. Your chest moved up and down as you dreamed away. Your beautiful hair was sprawled against the pillow as the low light of the lamp illuminated your beautiful body. Your soft skin was complimented by your navy nightgown that hugged your curves perfectly. God, he was so lucky to have you in his life.

You muttered something, moaning softly as you dreamed. That sound had Nanami’s cock twitching as you rolled on your back, completely exposing your body to him. The honey seemed to take over his body. He had to have you right now. With a glance back at the nursery, Nanami decided to go through with his horny desires. He made quick work of shedding out of his clothes. If he was quiet enough, maybe he could get away with a midnight snack before he went to bed without waking your daughter.

Kento crawled under the sheets and comforter, slowly making his way up the bed. He listened to his wife for any sign that you had woken up, but you were still fast asleep. When he finally reached your feet, he began placing kisses on both of them, gently spreading your legs open as he made his way closer and closer to her pussy. Nanami nipped and sucked at your inner thighs, dragging his slight stubble on his chin over your soft skin.

He could never get over how soft your skin was. Or how you shivered under his lips, How you were wet with the slightest touch of his hands and lips. The honey was making his head whirl as he finally met your cunt. Ever so slowly, Nanami dragged his tongue along the folds of your pussy, moaning at your sweet taste. You were sweeter than the honey he had eaten. You were wet and delicious, so of course, he found himself reaching up and grabbing your hips as he pulled himself closer to your pussy, desperately wanting to taste more of you against his tongue.

“Mmm,” you whimpered in your sleep, moving slightly under his touch. That slight movement left Kento licking faster, taking your clit into his mouth and sucking in it hard. Your hips buckled slightly as he swirled his tongue around the bundle of nerves, flicking his tongue against you. “K-Ken.” you exhaled softly, rocking your hips roughly as you dreamed.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered against your folds, sliding two fingers inside of you. When he breached the tight ring of muscles, he began pumping them, and suddenly, the sheets flew back. Nanami looked up at you, seeing flushed cheeks as you propped yourself up on your elbows, staring down at your husband.

“K-Kento, what are you doing?” you whispered between moans as he pumped his fingers faster, “Oh his God.” you groaned, throwing your head back against the pillows. Your hand reached down, gripping his hair, tugging it as he continued to kiss you. “Y-You found the h-honey!”

“Mhmm,” he moaned against you, moving his head back and forth, curling his fingers inside of you, moving them in the ‘come hither’ motion. “And it was delicious~ but my Love, you’re far sweeter.” Your hips bucked forward as you began convulsing around his fingers. Nanami could hear your breathing in fast, quiet pants as you tried to control your volume. Knowing he had that kind of effect on you had him smirking against your pussu, feeling you come undone over his slightest touches; God, the honey had already affected him, but you turned him on even more.

“K-Kento— I-I’m gon-” you could barely get out the rest of the sentence as his lips took your clit into his mouth again, and he sucked at you relentlessly. Pulling out gasps and earth-shattering moans that had him grinding against your mattress. Your hand clamped over your mouth, silencing the screams that threatened to escape. The last thing either of you wanted was to wake your daughter

Your left hand tangled in his blonde locks, tugging on it as you came against his mouth. Wave after wave of pleasure shook your body as he continued sucking; his honey-brown eyes were dull from the amount of pleasure of watching you cum. God, he fucking loved you.

You panted roughly, slowly releasing your grasp on his hair. This allowed him to pull away, licking his lips before pulling his fingers out of you with a hiss. You shivered, watching as he slowly stuck his fingers into his mouth, sensually licking them clean. The seductive act left you staring at him as if he were one of the world's wonders. Seeing the hunger in your eyes, Nanami chuckled.

“If I didn't know any better, I would think you had eaten the honey.” He popped his fingers back into his mouth, watching as you slowly licked your lips before reaching up and cupping his face. Nanami followed your needy movements, letting you bring his face down to yours, kissing you deeply while pulling him down on top of you and trapping him there, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Kento,” you whispered against his lips as he pulled away, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Need you.” You nipped your teeth at his bottom lip. He moaned, slamming his lips against you, shoving his tongue into your mouth. His tongue moved against yours, massaging it as you rocked your hips against his crotch. He was so hard; he needed more of you. Nanami trailed his hands over the curves of your body, reaching for the front of your nightgown, kneading at your breasts.

You arched into his touch as he pulled your nightgown down, exposing your breasts to him. He took one of your perky nipples into his mouth and began sucking on your breast, tugging at it with his teeth, drawing out a long, loud moan from you. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he continued to suck and nip at you. Nanami groaned as your hands slowly trailed down his back, tugging his boxers off, allowing his erection to spring free from her confinements. Your hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it with your hand softly. Kentowas already hard, but your touch made him even harder. He was eager for more, wanting to plunge into your slickened folds.

“Enough teasing,” you whispered against his neck as you trailed kisses down it, “I’m more than ready for you now.” you nipped at his skin, spreading your legs for him, “I want you, Kento.” How could he deny you? He made quick work pulling your nightgown off completely before kicking his boxers off. He hovered over you, cupping your face as he kissed you again.

“I love you, darling.” he whispered, grabbing his cock with his free hand and stroking it slightly, “Fuck, I love you so much; I missed you.”

“Show me how much you missed me,” you whispered breathlessly, staring into his honey-brown eyes. “Show me, Ken.”

As you commanded, he slowly began sliding inside of her. He groaned, feeling your juices coat the head of his cock. Kento bit down on his lip, trying to control himself. The honey had made his body overly sensitive. He can control himself. He watched her instead, enjoying the face you made. Her mouth opened slightly, and your cheeks flushed. You were such a beautiful woman. And this lovely woman had her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer towards your center.

“More,” You whispered through a moan, “I need more of you.” he nodded, kissing you lovingly as he slid deeper inside of you, his cock nestled deep inside of your pussy, hitting your cervix. “F-Fuck—” Kento paused for a moment, but only a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size before he began slamming in and out of you. “Y-Yes, oh fuck yes, Ken!.” you cried out, which was quickly silenced as Nanami placed his fingers over your lips.

“Shh, you’ll wake her up.” you mewled, nodding as you pursed your lips together as Nanami began thrusting slowly. He groaned as you lifted your hips in time with him, making his pace quicken. Your gasps and moans meddled in with the creaking bed. A symphony of pleasure that only made Nanami more eager. The honey made you look even more delicious as you arched your back, begging for more. To which he happily complied. Nanami’s hands slowly slid between your bodies. You bit down on your lip as his thumb instantly found your clit.

“Kento!” you gasped as his thumb lazily began tracing circles around the bundle of nerves. Which resulted in your bucking as he began slamming into you. Kento’d cock was painfully hard, but it didn't stop him from ramming against your g-spot with every thrust. In no time, your walls began clamping down on him.

“Fuck Love, you feel so good, baby.” He gasped loudly, thrusting deeper inside of you. His hands kneaded her breasts, his thumb and forefinger gripped and twisted your nipples, all while he trailed kisses down your neck, letting the aphrodisiac lead him. Your hands gripped his ass, gasping loudly as you whispered his name.

Kento felt the pleasure building inside his lower abdomen, like a coil tightening in his stomach. He was close. And from the way you were rocking against him, how you threw your head back, moaning softly, he knew you were close too. His fingers began rubbing your clit in faster and harder as he thrust quickly as fast as he could. Listening to the sound of you whimpering on a strangled gasp as he moved his hand to cover your mouth.

“That’s my girl, cum for me, cum all over me, baby.” you nodded, moaning loudly against his hand as you clamped down on your husband's cock. Your orgasm hits you hard, coating Nanami’s cock with your juices. Feeling you cumminf so hard left Nanami growling, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his thrusts less rhythmed as he fell over the edge following your orgasm. You could feel it as he came deep inside of you. But not once did his hips stop. They kept thrusting as your pussy milked me dry, making him spill his seed deep inside of you.

He collapsed on top of you, removing his hand from your mouth. The two of you lay there panting in the haze of our orgasms. After a few moments to breathe, Nanami looked at you, smirking as he kissed your lips gently, winning a kiss back from you.

“Welcome home,” you smiled, gently stroking his cheek. It looks like the honey worked.”

“Mhmm, you should order us some more.” He nuzzled your neck, winning a giggle from his wife.

“I couldn’t agree more.” You kissed his head as he rolled over, holding you in his arms. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Darling. God, I love you so much.” he whispered against your hair, inhaling the scent of your favorite shampoo. “I’m so happy to be home.” he muttered as you snuggled close to him. The two of you lay there in bliss before you finally fell asleep in his arms. Kento grinned, kissing your head before closing his eyes and following you into dreamland.

Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU):

“Ehem!” your boyfriend groaned, clearing his throat for the thousandth time that morning. “Fuck, my throat is so scratchy.”

You gave him a smile as he drank some water. “ I told you screaming would hurt your throat.” Sukuna narrowed crimson eyes at you, but he didn’t argue because you had, in fact, warned him about that last night at the concert. “And just so you know, water isn’t going to help with that.” this time, your boyfriend scoffed, raising a pierced at you as he placed his glass down on the counter.

“Oh, and what makes you say that?”

“Because I am medically trained, " you said, placing the kettle on the stove and grabbing a mug from the cabinet. “Hot tea will be better to ease that scratchy feeling.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

While the kettle was slowly heating up, you searched the pantry, grabbing a teabag and the honey. Only you found no honey left, well, not enough for honey tea. You would have to remember to add that to the list the next time you go to the grocery store. But luckily for you, you had luck at the bachelorette party you had gone to the weekend before. The entryway dug through your purse, pulling out the goodie bag you were given when you left. Of the goodie bag was a mixture of penis-shaped candy condoms that were too small for your boyfriend and a package of honey. Which you had assumed was reserved for food. But the food place would have to wait. Easing Sukuna’s discomfort was more important than pleasure.

When the kettle finally went off, whistling to let you know it was ready, you hurried back into the kitchen. Sukuna watched as he poured the hot water over the teabag in his mug. “Let the tea steep for five minutes and then pour this into it,” you instructed, tossing the package at him.

“Honey pack?” Sukuna asked as he caught it with ease, reading the label. He turned it over, examining the contents before shrugging his shoulder. “Alright, whatever you say. You are the medically trained one.” you fought back a laugh as you leaned over the counter, pressing your lips against his. “Have a good day at work, oh-so-well-trained-one.”

“I will dork; I love you.”

“Ditto.”

When you made it to work, you gushed to your coworkers about the concert Sukuna had taken you to the night before. He somehow managed to get tickets to your favorite band and got you VIP seating. The night had been one of the best nights of your life. You both had gotten drunk and screamed to the songs at the top of your lungs before passing out back at his apartment. It has been so much fun and you would never forget it.

“You are so in love with him.” Your work Bestie laughed as you dreamily sighed, wishing the clock would move faster.

“I am; he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You were a second away from getting up to room a patient when you heard thundering footsteps approaching your desk. Quickly, looking over your shoulder, your manager and one of the receptionists approached you. You could tell there was something wrong from the panicked look on their faces.

You pushed away from your desk, pressing back the rising fear within you. “What happened?”

“Your boyfriend is here in the lobby. He’s asking for you, saying there’s an emergency. Grab your stuff and go. I’m going to clock you out,” your manager said as you began collecting your things.

You began running through the office, slamming the doors to the lobby open. Did something happen to his brothers? Was Yuuji okay at school? Or did something happen to Choso? There were so many different scenarios that could’ve happened. You need to get out of here fast. You picked up your pace bursting through the open door finding Sukuna waiting for you. His chest was rising and falling; his cheeks were slightly flushed as if he had run the entire way to your building. When those crimson eyes met yours, he moved, grabbed your hand, and tugged you out of the office.

You held onto him, running to keep up with his long strides. He didn’t say a word. Maybe he wanted to get to a more intimate place to tell you what was happening. When you made it into the parking garage, you saw his car waiting a few rows back. You quickly opened the front door to the passenger seat, but the door didn’t open entirely as Sukuna touched it, slamming it shut.

“Kuna?”

“Get in the back.”

His voice was hoarse and full of need. A raw need that had heat pooling between your thighs. “H-Huh?” your question went unanswered as his eyebrow twitched and evident frustration.

“I said get in the fucking backseat.” to emphasize his point, he opened the door to the back, pushing you towards it.

You quickly crawled into the backseat without any other swelling as you turned your head to look at him. He was even heavier than when he was in your office. His cheeks were a darker shade of red as he growled at the side of you, sprawled against his backseat. Your eyes down his body and find his gray sweats too tight around the crotch, and that source of the tightness twitched. Did he seriously pull you out of work because he was horny?!

“K-Kun—what the fuck is happening? My boss said it was an emergency.”

You scooted back, watching as Sukuna ducked his head, joining you in the backseat and slamming the door behind him. “What was I supposed to say? hey I need you to send my girlfriend home because my cock feels like it’s going to explode.” He reached for you, tugging your scrub pants down tossing them into car's front seat. “I don’t think she would’ve been so keen on you leaving for that reason.” your underwear was suddenly his next target as they were ripped off using all of his strength.

“W-What happened to you? You couldn’t help but giggle at the desperation in his movements. “I just left like an hour ago.”

“Yeah, well, I started feeling fucking weird after you left.” He pulled his sweats down enough to free himself. His cock bounced, the tip leaking pre-cum as he pulled you into his lap, spitting into his hand, lubing up his cock. “It didn’t make a lot of sense as to why I felt so fucking horny until I put it together.”

Straddle his hips, gripping onto his shoulders. “And what did you manage to put together, Kuna?” he grabbed your hips, forcing you down onto him without so much as a warning, drawing out a gasp from you as he hissed.

“That Honey Pack you gave me is an aphrodisiac.”

Suddenly, it became very clear as to why they would include that in a goodie bag at a bachelorette party. Those thoughts,s however, were suddenly clouded with pleasure as Sukuna dug his fingers into your hips, beginning to jackhammer up into your dripping cunt. “Fuck!” You cried out, throwing your head back and leaving your neck exposed. Your boyfriend took the opportunity to bite into your neck with an almost feral snarl as his hips kept bucking up into you at a nearly inhuman speed. “O-Oh my god fuck!!”

“Mmphm~.” he pulled away, running his tongue over the Mark. He had left on your skin. The chill of his tongue piercing left you shivering above him on his lap. “You have no clue how hard it was for me to control myself, and I saw you running towards me back there. I nearly lost a little control. I had on myself and fucked you right there in the lobby.”

“O-Oooh, oooh nngh.”

Sukuna, even in his horny thoughts, felt you clench around him at his words. “Oh, what was that? Would you like that, you dirty fucking slut? Do you want me to fuck you in public in front of all your coworkers? Then they would know you aren't this innocent little medical assistant. They would know you’re my dirty fucking slut.” you clenched harder around him. “Oh my God, you would like that!”

“K-Kuna!”

“That’s not an answer,” he growled, fisting your hair, yanking your head to the side, exposing the other side of your neck. “Use your words Kitten.” his teeth sank into the other side of your neck as he bullied his cock deeper inside of you, rubbing the tip greedily against your cervix in an almost painful way, but the pleasure overwhelmed the pain.

“Yes!! Yes, I want that! I want you!”

Hearing you say that caused the last cord of strength in Sukuna to snap. He moved with a certain despite being cramped in the back of his car. Your back hit the seat, knocking the air out of your lungs as the head of his cock slammed against your cervix harder. When you looked up at him, you whimpered. Something instinctual told you to submit to the much larger predator above you. Your body wanted it to give into him, allowing him to have his way with you.

Sukuna growled, his pierced tongue slowly over his bottom lip as those dark, lust-filled eyes watched you tremble underneath him. He had to have you. And every way he possibly could. Sukuna pulled out, groaning at the feeling of your inner walls, attempting to prevent him from leaving, but they didn’t need to try to stop him because he had no intention of pulling out.

“My dirty slut.” Sukuna growled as he slammed back into using all of his strength. “Wantk g fuck him in front of your coworkers in front of a bunch of strangers.” he leaned over you, pressing his lips against yours. “Even if that were something you would want, I would never do that. Because I would kill anyone who looked at you like that.”

“N-Nnngh—oh—fuck!”

Your wall squeezed around him hugging his cock tight. “Are you squeezing down on me because it turns you on to know how I’m so possessive over you?” you weakly nodded, crying out softly as you tried and failed to kiss him. Your moans are spilling out, preventing you from moving your lips against his and the way you wanted. “Awe, Kitten~ you can’t even talk because you’re feeling so good.” another nod. “Haah~ such a good girl for me just lay back and feel good while I use your pussy okay?”

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the powerful thrusts that came next. Sukuna grabbed your hips, holding them down as he fucked into you like you were a flashlight. The car rocked with each slam of his hips. The sound of skin slapping against skin was almost as loud as the growls and moans that sounded from you both. Sweat coated your low, lower body as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Your boyfriend could feel it, too. Feel the way your nails dug into his forearms, how you’re pretty legs trembled with your building orgasm. He watched you slowly coming undone, and that sight only pressed him to go further.

All of his control vanished as he fucked into you like he hated you. “K-Kuna!” You screamed, eyes watering as he reached up, choking your eyes, shutting tight. “G-Gonna—oh fuck I-I’m gonna!” Sukuna's thumb found your clit rubbing it, giving you that final push you were needing.

“Then fucking cum Kitten~”

You came hard and fast. The pleasure hitting you in the most wonderful way. Sukuna watched from above, grunting at the feeling of you squirting all over his cock. That sensation had him lurching forward as his own orgasm hit him. His cock throbbed and twitched inside of you as he came. Your mouth fell at the feeling of his cum filling you. It was so warm, and you hummed happily, giggling as Sukuna fell on top of you, peppering your face with kisses.

“Uuugh.”

“Uugh?” You laughed breathlessly, your fingers tracing over the tattoos that were etched into his face. “That’s a first.”

“Y-Yeah fuck whatever, we need to hurry.” He whispered affectionately against your kiss-swollen lips. “G-Gonna be hard again. We need to get home.”

“Oh? Really what-aahnn—” Your question was lost with a moan as Sukuna grabbed your earlobe, tugging it roughly, teasing your weak spot. “Fuck!”

“I plan on taking you home and fucking until both of us pass out or whenever my dick stops working.” you know damn well he meant every single word. “You wanted to take such good care of me this morning. You still can. But I don’t need you to make me tea. I need to fuck you in every way I can.” You moaned, squirming in anticipation of what was to come when you got home. “But before we get home and start our fuck-fest, I need you to do something for me when we get home.”

“What do you need, Ku-nnngh!” his lips sealed around your ear, gently sucking and kissing on it.“Holy fuckin’ fuck!”

“I need you to order us some more of this honey~” he didn’t need to tell you twice. You proudly subscribe to the monthly subscription box. Because having him lose all of his composure was something you definitely wanted to experience again and again.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @msniks

[storiesfromafan]

Catching Feelings - Mattheo x Reader

A/N: not sure how I feel about this one, but I decided to post it anyways haha.

Prompt: “What part of I want you, and only you, do you not understand?” “And what part of why would you? Don’t you not understand?”

It had started out a casual hook up. Snog in a deserted hallway. Some over the clothing petting in the dungeons. Sneaking around in the Astronomy Tower for some no pants fun. It was great for you and Mattheo. The thrills and fun without the attachments a relationship entailed.

Well it had been great. Until Mattheo started to act weird, both with his words and wanting more time with you. Even when no pants time seemed to take a while to get too. He would make small talk, while you were the one to undo his tie and unbutton his shirt. And when he grasped your hands, halting what you were wanting to get too. That was it.

“Forget it" you sighed in frustration, grabbing your discarded cardigan before taking off back to the Slytherin common room.

He called out to stop you, tried to persuade you to stay. But it was no use, you were gone. And Mattheo sat there frustrated in more ways than one. For he physically wanted you, the evidence in his pants making it obvious. But he was also emotionally attached to you. Wanting to be around you, talk to you, hold you, kiss you. The guy was enthralled with you, bewitched mind and body. He wasn't quiet at soul, but part of him thought you were kindred spirits.

The following few days you avoided him. Keeping to yourself and always with a friend. And that was pissing Mattheo off. No to mention having this time to think clearly, Mattheo realised that what had been fun, looks to have turned into him liking you. And he now wasn't just mad with you, but also himself. For Mattheo Riddle doesn't catch feelings. He isn't meant to be a one girl kind of guy. Yet, he was willing to try it with you.

Getting a chance, though a sliver of one, you had just walked out of the female's lavatory. Grabbing your arm, Mattheo dragged you into a deserted hall, away from anyone or any noise. Once it sunk in to who had grabbed you, you yanked your arm from their hold.

“What the Hell Mattheo!?” You whispered yelled, glaring daggers at the male before you.

The male in questioned, did his best to look unfazed. Yet wondered if you had felt the sweat on his hands, or hear how his heart was racing. Could you see through his act? For he felt there were chips in the mask on his face.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” He asked with as flat a voice he could.

You looked at him for a moment, before sighing and crossing your arms over your chest. “Really? This is why you kidnapped me".

“I didn't kidnap you. I dragged you. You're free to leave anytime" he retorted with a soft glare.

“Fine" was all you said, moving to walk back the way you had come.

With two steps Mattheo moved to block you. Sputtering out a bunch of words that even he didn’t understand. But after he took a second to un-jumble his thoughts. Mattheo explained that he had only wanted to talk, and give him five minutes. You mulled it out before saying, alright I'll give you five minutes.

“Why have you been avoiding me (Y/N/N)? I waited in the Astronomy Tower the other night, but you didn't show up...” the last part came out a little whiny, which made Mattheo cringe.

Again you sighed. “I don't know...maybe I thought you'd want to talk" you replied dropping your bag on a bench, looking over the bust of some old witch.

“What's so wrong with talking...?” Mattheo asked quietly.

You shot him a are you serious look. “I thought this" – you gestured between you both – “was casual. In other words, no talking or attachment".

Mattheo straightened up, “well...ah, yeah?”

“Really?” You stared him down, not buying his words.

Mattheo sighed. He couldn't deny it further, could he?

“Look Mattheo, it's best we end it here. Cut our losses, yeah?” You finally said, voice void of emotion.

You grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. You walked past him and patted him on the back. Sharing some last parting words with the Slytherin male. When you were done, and no response from Mattheo, you began to head back to the populated halls.

As if being struck by lightening, Mattheo shot around, eyes wide watching your retreating form. “I like you!” He blurted out.

You paused, about to round the corner. You stood there for a minute, which had Mattheo thinking you may not have heard him. Finally you slowly turned around, eyes drawn together in confusion. Slowly you moved back to him, yet kept some distance between you both.

“Come again?” You finally croaked out.

Mattheo fidgeted from foot too foot, gaze looking anywhere but at you. He felt like a child that was in trouble. “I said...I like you...”

Slowly you nodded. “That's what I thought you said", you paused for a moment to think over your next lot of words carefully. “Look, Mattheo...I'm not the girl for you. I am uncaring, mouthy and too smart for the good of anyone”.

“That's fine with me" he replied quickly, staring you in the eyes.

You sighed. “Why would you? You can do better then me".

And with that you turned and began to walk off once more. Again Mattheo called out to you, sputtering out for you to stop or wait, and other things. But this time you didn't let up. Which lead to Mattheo being hot on your heels. Thankfully no students were around, but you could hear them in the distance.

“What part of I want you, and only you, do you not understand?” Mattheo called, anger rising when his attempts to get you to talk to him failed.

Finally you stopped, turning around to glare at the male. “And what part of why would you? Don’t you not understand?” was your retort.

The sound that came out of Mattheo's mouth was a cross between a cry of frustration and anguish of pain. Gripping his hair, he noted how you were so frustrating. Why wouldn’t you want him? Was there someone else you wanted to be with? If so, who, so he could take care of them. Was he ugly? Both physically and personality wise? His mind was swimming with questions.

“Mattheo...” you said softly, grabbing his attention. “This, you and me wouldn't work. And you know that. We're too different. Let's just...let it be".

When you got no response from Mattheo, you took that as your cue to leave. And off you went. While Mattheo stood there. Crushed, but determined. Determined to win you over. He believe part of you had to feel the same, or partially at least. Maybe you were scared, he liked to tell himself. Yes, that's what he was going with. And he would get you. No matter what or the cost.

[mangostarjam]

guard dog — blue lock, nagi seishiro x gn!reader, "baby" as a pet name, some smut i guess, creampie, established relationship, pro footballer!nagi, 1.5k words

Everyone thinks Nagi Seishiro is lazy.

It's a valid assumption. The professional football player is easy fodder for sports talk show hosts who love to criticize Seishiro for yawning hugely during press conferences and visibly playing games on his phone as his publicist tries to talk some sense into him. Seishiro hardly ever shows up for the charity galas, he has to be bribed to attend celebration parties, and his biggest brand deal is for a memory foam pillow company (which he only accepted because it meant he could nap on set).

To the world, he's a football genius blessed with the talent and skill to coast by and be lazy. Sure, Seishiro works out and goes to practice and plays hard when it counts, but if he's not in football mode, it's a pretty safe bet that he's either asleep or playing video games.

But you know better.

You know the world thinks Nagi Seishiro is lazy, but what they don't see — what they conveniently gloss over and ignore because it doesn't fit their narrative — is that Nagi Seishiro is an egoist.

And he gets what he wants.

So you aren't that surprised to find yourself squirming beneath his long, toned body — your heels digging into the strong muscles of his back, hands tugging harshly at his sweat dampened hair, back bowed as he coaxes another orgasm out of you as you sob his name.

"Mmph, fuck—" Seishiro groans low by your ear, hips stuttering as his cock throbs hard inside you. He manages two more rough thrusts before he's pressing his face into your hair, chest heaving as everything releases in a rush. "Feels so good, baby…"

You blink tears out of your eyes. The couch creaks as your boyfriend squishes you into the cushions, all dense toned muscle and long limbs and warm, heated skin. "Don't fall asleep," you pinch his side in warning but he doesn't even flinch. Your voice is raspy with overuse. "Seriously, Seishiro-kun!"

"But you're comfy…"

"I was in the middle of making dinner, y'know," you scold, but your tone is undeniably fond. "Our food's gonna be cold if you don't get up."

Seishiro grumbles, but ultimately acquiesces and raises his head. Dark white strands are plastered to his forehead. "Eating's such a drag," he sighs and presses a kiss to your cheek. The tip of your nose. Your other cheek. "Your cooking's yummy, though."

He finally lifts himself up and you wince as his softening cock pulls free. Wetness drips along your inner thighs. "Uh oh."

"Ah, wait," he says, reaching for a tissue on the nearby kotatsu. Seishiro's touch is firm as he helps clean you up. It's a simple matter for him to yank his sweatpants and boxers back up his thick thighs, but you end up wobbling to the bedroom to change into something less… sweaty.

Seishiro is still shirtless when you come back out wearing one of his hoodies, soft and worn, cuffs frayed with age. He opens his arms up wordlessly but you stay just out of reach, pressing a kiss to his knuckles instead. "Baby?"

"Dinner," you remind him. Seishiro blinks his big gray eyes up at you but you spin around before he can start pouting. "C'mon, it won't take that long!"

Your boyfriend sighs but follows you into the kitchen a few moments later. He peeks over your shoulder at the stove, radiating warmth as you lean back into him to offer a taste of the curry. "Yum," he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head afterward. "You're the best, y'know that?"

"You already got in my pants today, you insatiable monster," you tease, giggling when he huffs into your hair. "So what happened at practice today that got you all amped up?"

Seishiro releases you to scratch absently at his ear. "Ah, that? Nothin'."

"Don't make me text Isagi-kun."

Your boyfriend pouts and goes to set the table, scooping rice somewhat haphazardly but still managing to get everything ready by the time you bring the curry over to serve. "The guys were just talkin' about their partners," Seishiro says. "And it made me miss you."

You pause with your spoon halfway to your mouth. "So you had to fuck me on the couch two minutes after getting home?"

Seishiro's cheeks flush pink and pretty as he sticks his spoon in his mouth. Your gaze skips down to the shift of his bicep and shoulder as he leans his elbow on the table. Heat flickers up your spine at the sight — no matter how much Seishiro acts like a human sloth, there's no denying he's a professional athlete.

"You're very cute."

"Oh." You manage not to drop your spoonful of rice and curry. He's always so… blunt. Not exactly straightforward, but you know better than to underestimate those sleepy gray eyes. "Thanks, baby."

You feel your cheeks warm as he tucks into his meal, asking about your day between bites. This is your favorite version of Nagi Seishiro — the steady, selectively selfish boyfriend who hangs onto your every word and believes you'll rise up to where you want to go with so much faith he doesn't even say it aloud. This is the Nagi Seishiro the cameras never see, the football star whose words are always twisted in interviews to be uncaring and cocky, the words of a genius at his prime.

You're in the middle of recounting the way one of your male coworkers kept speaking over you in a meeting that morning when Seishiro's grip tightens around your ankle.

"Hah?"

You startle and nearly drop your spoon. Dinner is long done and Seishiro's coaxed you to prop your feet on his lap beneath the table, massaging your aching muscles gently as you share your day. "Seishiro-kun?"

"Sorry," he mumbles, but his gaze is hard. "Keep goin'."

"So… he… just kept… repeating the things I was saying, but louder, and — are you alright?"

Seishiro's typical natural pout has been replaced by a thin line as he frowns deeply. He shakes his head, snow white strands floating like cloud wisps above steel.

"That bastard," he says quietly, but the low tone sends shivers up your spine. "Talking over you like that. Does he wanna die?"

You blink. You've seen him get like this a few times before, but it's a rare sight. "It's okay," you climb out of your chair and round the table, sliding into his lap the moment he scoots back to make room for you.

Heavy hands land on your hips. You squeak. "I'll walk you to work tomorrow."

"You don't have to do that," you bring your hands to his bare shoulders and immediately smooth down to loosely grip his biceps. "I know you love sleeping in."

Seishiro tips his head up and you drop a kiss on his pout. He makes a soft sound. "That shithead should know better."

A giggle escapes you and his eyes immediately soften into stormy skies. "Down, boy," you joke. Seishiro hums and presses his face into your neck. You shiver as he kisses carefully along your throat.

"Yes, boss," he murmurs, and — god — you squeeze your eyes shut. "How was the rest of your day? What'd you do to that asshole?"

Your face warms and suddenly you wish you hadn't put on his hoodie. It's huge on you, with the sleeves bunching up around your wrists, but the typical loose air circulation his clothes grant you is lost against the rising heat of your body against his.

"I told him that if he couldn't hold it together for the meeting, he probably wouldn't be able to handle the business trip coming up," you say quietly, "and he stopped talking the rest of the meeting."

Seishiro snorts and presses another lingering kiss to the sensitive spot just below your ear. "That's hot."

You laugh at that, soft and fond. Seishiro leans back in his seat as you pull away slightly, settling further into his lap and reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes. "You're silly."

It's quiet for a moment as the two of you bask in comfort. His thumbs rub circles along your bare hips beneath his hoodie and you watch as he blinks at you slowly, like a cat, his sleepy eyes tracing over your face.

"I wanna marry you someday," he says absently, turning his head to kiss your palm. Almost as if he doesn't expect you to hear him. Your heartbeat makes a sudden loud appearance knocking around in your ribcage. It takes a minute to catch your breath.

"Seishiro-kun?"

"Mm?" He doesn't seem to care that you did hear him, but the arches of his cheeks have bloomed a soft, dawn pink. "I wanna be yours."

You kind of… maybe… want to pinch yourself. It's been unspoken, as the years together started stacking up, but he's never mentioned it before. You feel light. Buoyant.

"You're already mine."

Nagi Seishiro is an egoist, and he gets what he wants. He nuzzles his cheek into your palm. "I wanna be yours forever."

Well, then. "I'd be good with that."

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 ── Part 2

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: In the hopes that things would improve between you, you choose to lose your virginity to your friend Dean Winchester because you have been in love with him madly for a long time. However, he doesn't feel the same about you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: +18! (Minors DNI),smut, unrequited love, angst, reader gets hurt, arguments, jealousy

Word Count: 5896

A/N: English is not my first language.

Dean hung out on the second floor with his new girlfriend while you and Sam watched TV. There were no audible voices. Well, you couldn't hear anything that far away, at least. You couldn't stop your mind from concentrating on them, even if you didn't want to. Your head hurt from the mix of the TV's sounds and the rain. Actually, the pain was in your soul.

You waited for regret to surface so you could condemn and despise yourself for opening yourself to Dean, your friend. But despite your best efforts, you were unable to sense remorse. You knew that you would do it again if you had a chance, taking back all that happened. How could you refuse him? You wished to memorize every moment of that night by being able to see every expression on his face. It was ridiculous that something so basic could no longer be made possible. The moments you spent with him are now only vague memories in your mind. All you could recall was the touch—his touch. It was still lingering on your skin. That would be enough.

It was clear to you from the way he laughed with her moments ago that the moment you had spent with him days before meant nothing. It was simply another hookup for Dean. Though you didn't think you'd reveal the truth from your side, you wondered what Sam would say about it. Sam was a good man, but you really weren't supposed to reveal to him that you slept with his brother since it would be too embarrassing. Additionally, you had given your virginity to his brother, whom you referred to as a "friend." There was no way you could tell him this.

You couldn't even recall the name of the show that was on TV. From time to time, Sam cracked up at the jokes. At least one person was feeling good. You looked at him attentively and observed that he had his attention on the show while he ate his popcorn.

He turned to face you, seeing your serious expression as he observed how you were reacting to the joke. In your arms, you held a pillow.

He said, “What's that look?”

“Seems like someone is enjoying, huh?”

“Why not? We all deserve a little relaxation after working so hard as hunters, don't you think?” He remarked, grinning, and turned down the TV. The instant the room was silent, you realized how much the noise had hurt your head. 

“Like your brother?” Compared to what you had anticipated, you sounded more serious. 

“Dean being Dean, you know.” Sam sighed and made a quick statement. Yes, you were aware of it. 

“How is your arm, by the way?” you said with a troubled look on your face. You've been feeling terrible for Sam because he kept you protected throughout the hunt and then ended up hurting himself. He was always considerate and cautious of you and Dean. It was in his nature. 

Sam smiled reassuringly and said, “It's fine. You know, things go wrong, and as long as you save the day, it's alright to get a little bit hurt.”

Stating, “I didn't want to get distracted that easily. I'm not sure what's wrong with me these days, but I promise I'll get better.” The claim that you were acting in this way without knowing why wasn't true. You were certainly aware of the exact cause of your growing distraction. 

If only Sam could read your mind and understand. Otherwise, there was no way for you to tell him straight what happened between you and Dean that night. You had any, yet deep down you needed to talk to someone. But you were very, really embarrassed. It's not like you were teens; you and Dean are grown ups. Reasonable ones, obviously. On the other hand, exposing your situation to him would be the same as declaring your love for him and would reveal your feelings for him.

“Really, Y/N, it's all right. What is done is done.” Sam looked at you, totally shutting off the TV. “Ignore what Dean said. You know how protective he is all the time. If you were the one who was harmed by me, he would say the same things. Though he may have come off as tougher, his intentions were good.”

"I'm afraid that's not true, Sammy. I mean, I know his intentions were good, of course, but I guess I touched his nerves this time for real.”

You attempted a smile, but it did not reach your lips before you realized Sam was trying to soothe you.

Sam replied awkwardly, “He cares way too much about the people he really cares about.” At these meaningless remarks, you both halted for a little period of time. “Well, it wasn't the best way to put it, but you get the idea. You might understand if you were raised by an older brother. He's not a bad person; there are just moments when I don't understand him.” 

“Of course not,” you cut him off right away. “You don't even have to say it. Don't get me wrong; I'm not saying anything negative about him. I would never.”

“I know, I know...” Sam spoke quickly. “Still, I'm simply advising you not to think too much about what he said previously, all right? We've been hunting for more than a year; it's not that he doesn't like you. Remember that a year ago, it was he who offered the invitation for you to join that team?”

You ultimately nodded as Sam attempted to convince you that Dean didn't mean to hurt you. 

“Yes,” you murmured to yourself. “Considering how often you two sustain injuries, a nurse would be beneficial. I wonder if Dean was looking for a nurse for himself and his little brother, or if he was looking for someone with hunting abilities.”

“Let's say you're just talented enough to take a part in that very humble team,” Sam laughed. “And you're being a nurse is just another plus.” 

You sighed and then gave him a genuine smile, saying, “Fine, if you say so.” You had finally been somewhat diverted from your thoughts about Dean and his girlfriend by a brief conversation with Sam. 

Curious, you said, “How about you and Ruby, by the way? It seems that you two have become a very good couple, haven't you?”

“We're looking for something…to work out. But it's okay for now,” Sam remarked hesitantly. You found it amusing that he was so forthright about everything else than relationships. 

“You seem to be very much in love.” Not knowing how to present the matter to Dean without taking any suspicion, you offered an innocent glance to Sam. Sam was smart in every other way. Sometimes he observed and gazed at people as though he could see right through them. 

“She's like no one I've ever met,” Sam said timidly. “I think it will take some more time to work it out, but it's fine so far.”

“I'm glad to hear that.”

“How about you?”

You hesitantly replied, “What?” as he sent you one of his suspicious stares. 

“I've been thinking about lately and come to know... that it has been a year and I didn't even see you with anyone. That seems a little odd, don't you think?” Sam arched an eyebrow. “Are you not seeing anyone, or are you keeping it as a secret or something?”

You shifted on the seat and hugged the pillow against your arms a bit extra to help you unwind. In the end, he knew nothing about Dean or you. There was no reason to be anxious. It was only chitchat. 

“No, of course not!” You stopped him off before he started asking his questions. “It isn't... I'm not interested in anyone right now.”

“Really?” With a look of suspicion, Sam inquired. “We met other men throughout the cases, and they seemed to be interested in you. How can you tell whether you're interested in one of them if you don't give it a shot?”

“Sam, I don't like hookups. Something like that is not what I want.” However, you've turned into Dean's one hookup. The thought briefly ripped through your soul, given how little you've been talking recently, as if there were an unambiguous wall between you that you could not break down no matter how hard you tried.

“That's not what I'm saying. I'm just trying to get the point that you should give people a chance to win you over. How in the world would you know if you liked someone or not without that?”

“I don't want to,” you interrupted, concentrating solely on Dean. It would be simpler to get Sam to understand you if you could tell him how you feel about Dean. 

Sam groaned and said, “Fine. It was just an advice.” 

“I know, thanks,” you responded, putting on a timid grin. “Will you continue to watch TV for a while? It's growing late.”

Sam said, “I think I will,” as he looked at his watch. “Are you leaving?” 

You said quietly, “Yeah,” as you peered out the window to see the weather. It was pouring. You would have hated sunny days even more if you had gotten intimate with Dean on a sunny day. Rainy weather used to be something you enjoyed, but now it just hurt.

“I think it's better if you stay though,” Sam said, taking a deep breath and using one of his fingers to show you the pouring rain. “You're not the best driver.”

With a harsh tone, you said, suddenly tossing the pillow over his face. “Did you just insult me?”

“That's not insulting,” Sam shot it back at you. “I'm just saying that you're no Hamilton.”

You said, “You have no idea,” and you couldn't help but smile as you recalled the day Dean forbade you from driving on rainy days after you nearly had an accident. Dean continued to get anxious when it started to rain while you were driving because of that day. His Baby was more important than anything. 

“Will you be watching TV or?” Taking back the remote control, Sam asked. 

“No, thanks; enjoy yourself.” Setting the pillow down next to the coach and stretching your arms, you yawned. 

You couldn't help but notice the agonizing heavy feeling in your chest as it began to flare up again like tiny needles as you made your way upstairs. Even though you didn't want to hear anything, you were listening for any sounds coming from Dean's room. As you passed, your movements almost seemed to slow down, but you quickly realized what was going on, and you entered the dark room where you would be spending the night, as if your brain didn't want to hear anything.

You had been repeatedly asked to leave the same house by Dean and Sam and start to live with them, but for whatever reason you were unaware of, you had refused. If they repeated the offer, you would most likely take it immediately. God, even if you just lived in the same house, you would probably fall even more in love with Dean. During hunts, it was even sufficient to see him for a few hours. Your heart ached to think about his face, his grin, and every joke he ever told.

Has the night some weeks ago caused you to ruin what you had? You didn't feel any regret, but as you noticed that Dean was becoming more aloof, regret started to consume you.

You'd just gotten out of the shower when your hands found one of Dean's t-shirts. You desired to wear it like you had some weeks prior. Back then, it wasn't a big deal; instead of complaining, he would just make jokes about how little and amusing you looked in them. But things were different today, and you knew it wouldn't be proper to wear it while he had a girlfriend.

If he truly had affections for someone, you didn't want to spoil things for him.

They laughed a little too loudly as you lay down on the bed and pressed his t-shirt against your chest as if it would bring him further closer. Dean's laughter mixed with Jo's. You tried, devastated, to focus on the soothing sounds of the falling rain and on the absurd or hazardous situations that had transpired during the hunts. It was useless. 

That was the moment you became aware of how really alone you were. Perhaps Sam was correct about telling you to pursue a romantic connection. However, how could it be possible when you were already deeply in love with someone? Anytime Dean was around, your heart felt like it was going to explode. You had no idea how to handle things like that. 

You set his shirt down and let it fall to the ground, acting as if doing so could shield you from the overwhelming feelings that Dean had given you. God, how could you possibly let go of your feelings for him when you couldn't even let go of a single piece of fabric with ease? 

You were so miserable and pathetic that you were unable to stop crying this time. You dreamed of something you could never have as the tears flowed down your cheeks and onto the bed. You will always cherish the beautiful memory the night gave you, but at what cost?

You were sobbing, but you weren't sure if it was from the noises Dean and Jo were making or from the dreams that could only have come true in your head. 

Your impulse to pick up Dean's t-shirt from the floor gradually vanished as your tears dropped to the bed and the pain consumed your entire being. Until today, you had no idea how much you actually loved him. 

“What happened?” With a big smile on her face, Jo placed her fingers around Dean's face and inquired in between laughter. She teased this thick neck with a quick, playful kiss. On his lap, she became still. 

Dean's fingers raised her skirt and were ready to push her underwear aside. Jo continued moving on Dean's lap, making herself wetter by rubbing herself over Dean's boxer, her hands lingering on his wide and bare chest with desire. 

“Nothing,” a rough-voiced Dean said. From the room where you were staying, he thought he heard something. He had heard you took the upstairs before he'd gone to the bathroom. You most likely made the decision to stay since it was pouring rain outside. You definitely didn't know how to drive in such conditions. He shuddered, remembering when you nearly crushed his baby and sent it to his sweet vehicle burial. 

Jo touched Dean's naked chest and paused her palm at his abs, saying, “You seem to be like thinking something else.”

“I wasn't,” Dean lied. It was not significant at all, so there was no need to provide details.

“I was just thinking though,” Jo said, attempting to find the right words to say. 

“About?”

“I think we'd be a great team, you know.” With a sly smile, Jo continued to stroke Dean's abs with the tips of her fingers. “As you are aware, Sam, you, and I would make an excellent team since we are now somewhat of a family, since I am also a hunter. Do you not think?”

Dean moved slightly on the bed, thinking of you, irritated at Jo's disregard for you, as if the details weren't even important. You were a member of the team. He was the one who initially made the offer to you in fact. Besides, they weren't even paired up. He said nothing about it so as not to hurt her feelings or make her feel humiliated if she brought it up. 

“How about Y/N?” In an attempt to lighten the mood and soften the air, Dean attempted to smile at her, but his smile did not reach his lips.

“She's a nurse,” Jo said, as if it were an insult. Dean felt uncomfortable and uneasy because Jo was attempting to push out the details of what she truly wanted to say about you. Despite her best efforts to seem polite, she came out as cunning and bitter. That was something Dean did not appreciate. 

“So?” Dean arched an eyebrow in questioning. “She is the only one still alive due to the terrible things that went wrong; her family was full of hunters just like ours. She doesn't even need to, yet she still has passion. That's very encouraging, in my opinion. I mean, continuing to work in the family business while also doing her professional job responsibilities. That requires guts.”

“Are you defending her?”

“I am,” Dean said in a firm and harsh manner. Jo was still on top of him, trying to get him to say nasty things about you, and he didn't enjoy her attempts at distracting him with handiwork. Dean felt unease and a strong sense of aggressiveness.

He never explicitly expressed his admiration for you for persevering through everything and for having the guts to face your fears. Jo recognized how much he genuinely admired you in his heart when he explained how excellent you were at what you did. Even though you occasionally were easily sidetracked, you were a professional.

Jo sighed, but she didn't give a damn about Dean's opinion of you. In the end, you posed no threat. For nothing at all. 

“I don't think your dad raised you and Sam for doing some charity to the orphan hunters and helping them to find a belonging,” Jo said. Although she made an effort not to seem cruel, it was the reality for her. “I am aware of the danger she took for Sam when you all were hunting last time. It is a weakness to be easily sidetracked in this.”

Dean's eyes grew enraged as Jo carried on speaking in a sinuous manner. She was aware of his dislike of others discussing the persons they cared about in this way. Particularly about the people he respected and gave enough thought to. 

Dean whispered, “Jo,” but it seemed more like he was threatening her. “Stop this fucking nonsense now. I'm serious.” 

“Do you have a soft spot for her or something?” Jo inquired once again. She also bit her lips invitingly while gently raising her skirt to reveal her pussy to Dean's gaze in an attempt to divert his focus elsewhere.

Her eyes were full of promise. In particular, Dean found it amusing when ladies looked at him with such passion. 

Dean immediately felt a sense of relaxation as his hands moved to her hips. He sighed and refused to answer. “Are we just going to talk?” he asked. She began removing her clothes rapidly while he licked his lips and observed. 

“Hopefully not,” Jo laughed in response. She was relieved that she and Dean had stopped talking about you. “Let our bodies talk in their very own, divine language.”

Dean switched the positions before she could say anything more. Now that he was on top of Jo, he was urgently kissing her while his mind was racing with ideas he wanted to put down for the night. 

Dean roughly spread Jo's legs wider and pulled her underwear aside, freeing himself from his boxer. With a single forceful shove that caused them both to moan loudly, he gave his firm cock a few strokes and pushed himself in Jo beforehand. That was an excellent way to get some real comfort now. 

Jo hadn't kept it low at all, so Dean put his hands on her mouth to silence her, causing her to sigh into his hands without intending to wake anyone. He picked up his speed and began to push into her rough and fast enough to satisfy both of them, knowing that she enjoyed being fucked raw and fast and that Dean also wanted to find his release. 

While he continued to fuck her, Dean warned her to "keep it low," suppressing his own groans.

She was, however, loudly groaning in Dean's hands, locking her legs around his hips, matching his speed as she raised her hips, as if she wanted everyone to know that she was getting fucked by Dean. Dean warned her to turn down the volume once more, but it didn't help.

In an attempt to find his release, Dean thrust into her more quickly, giving the impression that he was being forced to come—as if this were a mission or one of his hunts. He was striving to find his pleasure when he felt nervousness take over his body. He wasn't accustomed to feeling this way, especially around women.

His other hand tightened on Jo's tits, and he ran his fingers through her ass to help himself. His movements were forceful and impatient. All he wanted was for her to be somewhat silent so that he could focus more easily. It wasn't like Dean liked to be all crazy harsh on ladies or anything; he just needed to experience the closeness of a true, sincere touch, which was difficult to find at the moment.

He was on the verge of getting there, but he was unable to seize the ideal moment of pleasure and find relief.

Though it wasn't appropriate to think about it right now, Dean's thoughts began to form around the moment he and you had shared weeks earlier as he continued to stroke his hardness into Jo's warm pussy while muttering under his breath. It was as though his body had a mind of its own and knew when it was best for him to get what he was looking for.

His thoughts were hopelessly consumed by the sensation of your tightness and those moments of adorable small sounds that you attempted to hide from him. Dean attempted to concentrate on the woman who he was actually fucking into, not feeling proud of how he thought about you while he fucked Jo into the covers. Thinking about how he fucked you wasn't fair to no one at all. But his own body, which was attempting to steal what it desired by using Jo's body, was not under his control.

Him fucking Jo was becoming a battle between Dean's body and mind. Pleasure and reason; soul and mind.

Jo began to quiver instead of groan loudly, and as Dean withdrew his fingers from her lips, she cried out, “Will you come inside?” 

Dean instantly said, “No,” realizing that he hadn't been wearing a condom throughout his frantic sex with her. “Stay still.”

With a hint of rage, Dean sank his fingers into Jo's flesh and his head into her sweating neck, fiercely shutting his eyes. He was going insane as he struggled with his own thoughts, which were attempting to recall every little detail about your body and how you responded and tightened around his member. He didn't want to go back in time mentally and get pleasure thinking about the night with you while he was inside someone else. It wasn't fair for any. 

It was just an impulse decision made in the heat of the moment. Still, Dean's mind continued seeing the body underneath him to be yours, making him picture every single detail of how he took you and how you immediately clenched around him the moment he entered you. He was taken aback by how tight you were; you were like anyone he had ever fucked. 

As the fantasies overtook his thoughts, Dean became aware of his surroundings as Jo began to speak dirty to him, telling him how much she enjoyed it when he gave her such an aggressive fuck. Dean wasn't aware of himself till now that he started to fuck into her pussy quicker and harder.

Dean's body tensed as his eyes opened. He was pushing his cock in and out of Jo without intending to get off as he thought about you. He was a little caught by what had transpired in a split second. 

Jo gasped and said, “Why did you stop?” To regain his attention, she raised her hips higher. 

“Nothing,” Dean said, losing his temper and collapsing to his side as he felt his cock gradually soften. 

Jo was bewildered, but she became enraged when Dean abruptly quit fucking her and left her feeling unsatisfied. 

She sighed and said, “You want me to get on top?” although she sounded more like she was frustrated. 

“No.”

“What the hell is your problem?” she said, nailing Dean's chest. “Come on-”

“I said, 'no.' Alright?” In an attempt to disassociate himself from Jo, Dean stated. Even though he knew it was just about him, he tried to keep his cool down despite feeling like rage was taking him.

When she realized Dean wasn't in the mood and was most likely experiencing some sort of dysfunctional erection, she simply remarked, “Anyways,” without caring about it at all. “I promised to go out with some friends tonight, you know,” she said, putting on her clothes again.

“Alright. It's pouring outside though.”

“Yeah, and?”

With a sigh, Dean said, “Nevermind,” understanding that you were the only on who found driving in such weather difficult.

Dean quickly showered right after Jo departed the house, then jerked off just after he entered the bathroom. Even if things started to seem strange with Jo, his body still wanted some release to ease the tension. He was horny and furious at the same time. Though he was a man of action and he wasn't the biggest fan of taking himself in hand in the shower like a teenager, it worked this time. It felt good enough.

Dean gasped in frustration, picturing your gentle touches and the way he felt within you while he fucked Jo and how he thought about you while. The easiest way for him to regain control of his body was to stop. That was all—him and you were simply pals who took pleasure from each other for one night. You were lovely, so it wasn't that he wouldn't want to fuck you again, but it would just be weird. That was not Dean's type of thing. 

With one arm folded behind his head, Dean lay on the bed and tried not to think too much. Perhaps he was simply too exhausted.

Even though you were exhausted, your body woke up in the middle of the night due to a headache and a dry throat. You walked silently downstairs to the kitchen so as not to wake Sam, Dean, or his girlfriend. 

You cursed yourself for being so emotional and sensitive, crying your eyes out till you went to sleep. Perhaps you were about to have your monthly period very soon. You were forced to put on your headphones by Dean and his companion in order to block out the noises they created all night.

What a waste, you thought. Believing that once you committed yourself to Dean, things would improve between you two. The situation became worse because of it. There was now such a strong and lengthy barrier between you that, despite your best attempts to remain composed, you were unable to climb it at all without being exhausted. If you were more courageous than this, you would have let everything pass by, turned your back to the team, and concentrated on your actual work. 

After turning on the light and rubbing your swollen eyes, you sipped your water and sat down next to the window. You couldn't even get enough sleep, and you had to work all day. You required a long vacation. 

As soon as you placed the glass down on the kitchen sink, you turned around and saw Dean staring back at you. He was half nude, wearing just sweatpants; his broad chest was all naked. You jumped and gasped in fear because you didn't hear him approaching. 

Dean seemed a little confused for a moment when he saw your ruined hair and swollen eyes, but he said nothing. 

He stated, “You're so jumpy,” in a low voice as if another person may hear them. 

You paused in front of Dean and said, "I didn't hear you coming," but all you did was stand there and remain still, your heart racing. 

Ignoring him and returning to your room was difficult. Though your soul ached and yearned for more time with him, your mind knew that nothing would happen between you.

“Why are you still awake?”

You suddenly snapped, “Why are you questioning me?” but then you added, “I was thirsty.”

He said, “It makes us two,” and grabbed a glass of water for himself.

Can't help but notice how you looked, he remarked, “Your eyes appear somewhat swollen.” He couldn't help making a comment this time, a sense of concern overwhelming him.

Trying to sound convincing enough, you said in a hushed voice, “I just woke up. Couldn’t sleep properly.”

“You're going to work tomorrow, aren't you?” Dean inquired as if attempting to strike up a conversation after such a lengthy period. You haven't been speaking properly recently for the obvious reason. 

You answered, “Um, yeah,” and lightly stroked your hand to see whether it hurt. It no longer did. Thank goodness you weren't seriously injured. You've also taken plenty of time off from work. It would be best if you started working right away to take your mind off of Dean and all that was going on. There was a lot to take in. 

“But can you work though? Is your hand okay, by the way?”

“Yes, I suppose there's nothing to worry about. It's stopped hurting. Actually, I missed my job. It's been too long since I took a break.”

You took a deep breath and went to head back to your room, saying a quiet, "Good night," but Dean stopped you by grasping your arm after he finished his drink. “Wait,” he quietly whispered. 

He released his hold on you and gently caressed your skin in an attempt to apologize for being a little too harsh on you. You turned to face him, perplexed. “Yes?” you said as you awaited his next words. 

He seemed unable to find the right words to say, so he said, “Whatever happened during the hunting... It wasn't just your fault.” The moment he brought that case back, your heart pounded. 

You took a deep breath to keep yourself from being upset as you thought back to what he had said to you, his hurtful remarks, and how annoyed Dean was as a result of your distraction. 

You managed to stutter, “It's okay,” and try to smile sympathetically at him. “You are right in every way. I should have exercised more caution. After all, he's your brother.”

“No, I'm not right about everything.” Dean took a deep breath and held your still-healing hand. “I was responsible as much as you were. After all, I am the team's oldest member.” He attempted to lighten the situation with a smile, but for some reason neither of you felt like it. 

Dead had told you, just to your face, that Sam was extremely important to him, as if you had someone in your life to worry about. He hated himself for not being more compassionate after realizing he was simply being harsh.

“It was just... in the heat of the moment,” Dean made an effort to explain his behavior. But the way your eyes met, it seemed like he meant something very different.

“I know."

“I only wanted you to be more cautious; I didn't want to hurt you.” He looked into your reddened eyes and added, “Not just for me or Sam, but especially for your own good,” with such genuineness that it seemed he could see what a wreck you were on the inside. How messy you were.

“You did not hurt me at all. I will proceed with greater caution, as I had said previously.” You let his hands lightly brush across yours. Your heart had melted at such a simple, one-time gesture. Though you knew you couldn't, your body was aching to get closer to him. 

He finally released your hand after a little while. However, if he hadn't taken it in the first place, it would have hurt less. 

You hoped with all of your heart that this moment in the kitchen with Dean had gone differently. You wanted to be closer, cuddling, laughing, or doing anything else that would be tender and intimate. But you two were farther apart than before. Your eyes would have said everything about how much you wanted him if they could communicate.

“I honestly didn't intend any of the things I said to you before or later. I want you to understand this.”

“I do, Dean.”

Dean said, “I know things are a little awkward between us, but I don't want it to be like this,” before you could say anything more. “I hope that you continue to feel at ease with me. I suppose we haven't discussed it appropriately so far about this.”

Your cheeks suddenly flushed scarlet at the mention of your circumstance, and fear shot through your veins “It's really okay,” you nodded to him and replied in a hurry. “Everything's alright.” 

You felt burdened with the thought that he could be concerned that you might tell Jo. Should that be his worry, you might reassure and soothe him. In a whisper, you said, “I wouldn't...tell Jo.” 

Dean opened his mouth to say something, then scowled instead. His expression showed signs of uncertainty. Given how often they had been hooking up only, he wasn't really sure if he and Jo were a thing at all. 

He felt a little guilty as well as responsible for initiating the kiss that night since he was aware it was him. 

“You know, I don't want you to feel awkward. Don't let anything go to waste or let this ruin what we have.”

Your heart raced with hopelessness again as Dean blatantly said that he wanted nothing to change and that you should move on from the past. At this point, you couldn't tell if he was genuinely unaware of your emotions. It was better if he hadn't even opened his mouth in the first place and stayed silent. 

Since you believed you were trying your best to keep things calm between you and him and maintain whatever relationship you had with him, you wanted to ask him if there was anything you could have done to make him feel that way about you or did you make him feel uncomfortable around you. It wasn't like you were still holding out hope. You were not anticipating this any longer.

Despite his repeated promises not to hurt you, he continued to do so without even realizing it.

You nodded to him quickly and answered, “Of course, I don't want this either,” with a heavy heart. “I would not want to ruin.”

You gave him a little smile and a mumble of "good night," then turned back toward your room. You would have found the strength to cry a little bit more if your eyes weren't sore from crying so much hours before. But at that moment, all you wanted to do was sleep, without really considering anything.

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A/N: Please, let me know what you think about this one. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! ^^

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[wlwmedarda]

I'm honestly just looking to rant and this might be long depending on how fast I get irritated the more I type so if this isn't coherent or well written I apologize in advance. Since it looks like Ambessa will take on a more antagonistic role in arcane season two, I would like to unpack the fandom's antiblackness that you guys are either blind to or aware and too pussy to call it out as my gut is telling me it's gonna increase and if no one is gonna start the difficult conversation then I sure as hell will.

Sevika:

Mel:

Starting off strong with the definition of "you guys want complex female characters but can't even handle her". Mel Medarda is in quite the predicament seeing how she's morally grey, a black woman, AND "gets in the way" of a mlm ship so she was kinda screwed from the start. A cunning politician disowned for her pacifism who acts as a sort of bridge to Noxus' slow introduction, and is THE ONLY CHARACTER IN THE SEASON 1 MAIN CAST SPECIFICALLY CREATED FOR THE SHOW. She's treated like satan incarnate or a Jezebel (highly suggest looking into that if you don't know what that is), GOOD character analysis is rare, and when she is talked about positively, it's so often chalked up to appearances that I'd rather yall not talk about her at all. Oh you love Mel? Then can we talk about her relationship with her mother? Unpack her dynamic with Jayce? Maybe more fanworks centered around her? I've seen yall's fake asses dropping the shittiest fucking takes about her only to turn around and gush over how pretty she is, and yall think you're slick about it and you're not. I would say I prefer the ones who are loud and proud about their hatred but that'd be a lie, they're two cheeks on the same ass; annoying and couldn't give a decent break down of her character if a gun was pointed at they head even she's perfect to dissect. I could talk about her more but we'd be here all day and so many black women even from outside the fanbase have already talked about yall so there's no need for me to add on 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️.

Quick question, have you guys ever tried to talk about her in a non sexual way? Yes, Sevika is undeniably sexy and you could argue that true stans of hers talk about her outside of horny time, but a good half of the fandom is a different story. In a similar case to Mel's, deep dives into her character are rare to find which is crazy when she acts as Zaun's own "kingmaker". She's loyal to her city and the cause, never to a specific person and will not hesitate to betray you. She could be your right hand man one day, and the next she might find a better kingpin to follow and stab you in the back like it all meant nothing. "Were you tempted?" "Not for a worm like him". Simple and subtle and probably my favorite Sevika scene; she comes to realize Silco is no longer the best leader for Zaun, but he's as good as it gets for now and so she sticks by him. I remember a YouTube comment breaking down how she's essentially the quintessential Zaun: a brute warrior molded by her environment, who defied Vander's peaceful ways and embraced Silco's cruelty. Her mindset and goal is interesting and you'd think it'd result in some fascinating meta or exploration of her upbringing when we got a hint that she potentially has some daddy issues right? Obviously, but what do we get instead? White sapphics treating her like nothing more than a sexual object. How delightful!

Ekko:

This might partially be Riot's fault because — and I hate to sound like a league lore nerd — Ekko is quite underdeveloped compared to the richer origins of his former pre arcane self, but I'm gonna hold off on that till the season finale to see how they handle him. Anyways, at this point the fandom clearly sees him as Jinx's trophy husband. When you talk about him, she is brought into the convo 90% of the time. That's exactly why I prefer black timebomb shippers over the nonblack ones because I trust they actually love Ekko as a character on his own. Even though I have my complaints regarding how's been written so far, I still know he's too good to be reduced to Jinx's loverboy. He fights and cares for his city, the only character that you can confidently say is pure of heart, and is the revolutionary leader Zaun really needs. He's just as smart as Jinx too, he is literally going to create TIME TRAVEL. Why does no one wanna talk about that? Can we be excited for his character development and arc not just for the timebomb scenes you'll get out of it?

Ambessa:

Can't even deny this woman is awful but her presence on screen enthralled me after a couple of rewatches and I also love bad mothers in media so I've settled on a love/hate relationship. Yes, she's definitely gonna have some influence on Caitlyn, which makes sense since she has now lost her mother; she's vulnerable and as we have seen, naive. She's practically free real estate for Ambessa. My recent worry though has been how the fandom seems to be willing to put all of Caitlyn's actions on her as if Cait isn't a grown ass woman who can make her own decisions. Of course being grown doesn't mean you're immune to manipulation, but I've seen some Silco and Jinx comparisons and it is NOT the same. Mind you we haven't even seen the first three episodes; we don't know how far Ambessa's manipulation is going to go and we can't really tell what the dynamic is gonna be like based off of clips and trailers that are likely shown out of context on purpose to throw people off. I'll never defend her actions, hell I'll join in on the lashings, but my black ass is also not gonna sit here and let yall talk about her weirdly or pin all of this on her.

Some might say I'm overthinking this, but I've been here since November 2021 and have sat back and observed for 2 years. You don't have to write deep, philosophical conversations 24/7, I'm sure it's not all in bad faith and I won't act like I don't thirst over Sevika or marvel at Mel's beauty. I'm not saying you have to like these characters and that you're racist if you don't. My frustration comes from the lack of nuanced conversations and hypocritical opinions surrounding black characters in this show. When you try to say something about this, you're hit with excuses; it reminds me of how man obsessed fujoshis act when they're questioned for not giving two fucks about female characters. They're either reduced to one character trait, only admired for their looks, or only discussed when it's about the white character they're connected to. Do NOT under ANY circumstance be black and morally ambiguous, you WILL be held to higher moral standards than everyone's wittle blorbos who can do wrong and are defended from all sides when you dare to take the rose colored stan glasses off and criticize them. What's really ridiculous is you hear the "complex characters" bullshit every two to three business days and some of you have the nerve to boast about this series being diverse while simultaneously ignoring the complexities in the characters of color. This is the main reason I took a step back and with season two around the corner I thought "Hey, maybe it'll be better this time!" and it was a mistake. Good to know yall still have an underlying racism problem you don't wanna address but with some extra classism thrown in. "What will we do once Arcane ends?" hopefully get a job, touch some grass, and reflect. Lord knows yall need it. The faster yall sizzle out the better. I'm done that's all I have to say lol goodnight 👍🏽👍🏽👍🏽👍🏽.

[gatorbites-imagines]

In that case… Could I please request Killer Croc/Waylon Jones with a supringly really attractive boyfriend (like a male version Jessica Rabbit level hot, like it dosen’t even make sense for someone to be that hot) who no one understand how Waylon pulled. Waylon’s boyfriend is very sultry and alluring.

And Waylon roughly breeds his boyfriend doggy style 😇.

Thank u :)

Waylon Jones x Male reader

Headcanons

Guten Abend squad, how is everyone doing? Classes are still running at a max level, and I’m starting to think this is just how it goes. So, time to chillax with some Waylon.

Not as smutty as I would have wanted, but this honestly just built a life of its own and started running.

We see in the comics, or at least in one run, that Waylon does have game and knows how to pull somebody very attractive, so its not too surprising so could pull you. That’s what you think at least, since he’s a great guy, to you.

I imagine you two met after he left the circus, maybe you guys even left together. With Waylon being the circus’s “freakshow” and you only being there as eye candy to sell tickets. With you both being reduced to nothing but your looks, you two find solidarity with each other, and fall in love.

No one ever really took your love seriously back then, just thinking you were using Waylon for protection, since someone as pretty as you couldn’t be safe anywhere.

Insert the “seriously, what do you see in that guy?” “he makes me laugh” scene.

If we go with the verse where Waylon was in Halys circus, then the only ones that seemed to have some version of acceptance of your love was the Grayson’s. it was one of the reasons you two left the circus, having a strong feeling of what had truly happened to them and who caused it.

After leaving the circus, you couldn’t live in the sewers like Waylon. This meant you got an apartment, in the beginning in crime alley since it was cheapest.

You may have been so beautiful it would drive people mad, but you also had a head on your shoulders. So, in the end you set up a legitimate business, maybe you even become something akin to a designer. Mainly because your lover is so big, there’s no other way to get him clothes.

And maybe during your time in crime alley, you stumble upon a scrawny kid who, though he may act tough, still has a light in him. And maybe that kid ends up being batman’s second robin, who remembers how kind you were to him and everyone around you, so he doesn’t go as hard against Waylon.

The past you have with the Grayson’s also means that Dick takes it easier on Waylon, and they even settle down and talk at times. You’ll regularly find the two former robins hanging around your art studio, even years later when they aren’t robin anymore.

Your lover goes to Arkham, a lot. But you never hate him or even argue with him. You’ll just pull up to Arkham in your most beautiful outfit during visitors’ hours and hold Waylon’s hand as you two act like a new married couple, even if it’s been twenty at this point.

And it may have been twenty years, but you just seem to have become more handsome with age, aging like fine expensive wine. You don’t become shrewd or corrupted by the world around you, instead you stay kind and patient. You’re still in Gotham though, so you’ll turn violent if you have too.

No one really believes that Waylon purrs, until you show up and he becomes as meek as a kitten, ready to roll in your manicured hand.

Its no secret that you, one of the most famous designers around, and Killer Croc, are together. But its just such a normal part of everyday life now, that no one really questions it. your works never been dirty, you help those around you, and lift up poor and struggling artists whenever you can. So, what if your husband is tearing up the road trying to bite Batman to bits.

Theres a viral video in Gotham of you stepping out during one of Waylon’s rampages, and just scolding him, wagging a finger in his face and still looking so unbelievably gorgeous as you do so.

And yes, of course your design trademark is crocodile scales, or anything along those lines. You’ll never use real crocodile skin, but you do use the print or shape.

After all this time, people don’t fear Waylon as much as they probably should, all thanks to you. Its kinda hard to fear a guy when you know his boyfriend is unofficially titled the most beautiful man in Gotham, who’s also as giving and kind as the Waynes, whilst being more involved in the nitty gritty, since you still live in Crime Alley.

Someone has threatened Waylon with telling on him to you at least once too, which doesn’t stop him, but it does cause him to freeze and get an “oh shit” expression, long enough for people to run to safety.

Being one of the most skilled fashionistas around also means you have met the Waynes on multiple occasions.

The shared past with Dick and the circus, and Jason, though you don’t remember him as vividly, means you get called on more than most.

As you measure them out and start making designs, conversations flow, and Damian most likely ends up bluntly just asking you why in the world you decided to pair up with Killer Croc of all people.

You correct him in your answer, referring to your husband as Waylon, and then you just start waxing the poetics. Of your shared past, of the deep unshakable love you both share, and how under all his struggles, Waylon truly is an amazing man.

You’ve never confirmed that Dick was Robin, even though it was very obvious. Its not your place to judge how he, or his family, deal with their trauma or whatever they have going on. Your lover swims through the sewers, you can’t really say anything.

A few passing comments are made though, obviously. You tell the Waynes to “take it easy next time they see Waylon, wont you?” with one of your heart shaking winks before you saunter out, ready to start putting together your latest design.

Its kind of an accepted, not really a secret, secret. Its never put into words, and they know that you know, and you know that they know you know. Nothing ends up happening with it though, outside of you making some jokes and judging their hero outfits.

With age you’ve become less sultry and alluring, at least in the way the public can point out as obviously as before. You have simply mastered your field, and know just how to play people around you if you need too.

Though, you didn’t really learn to master it for the public. It’s mainly just for Waylon, so you like to see how his nostrils flare, and when he starts chuffing in the back of his throat when you saunter around in nothing but a silk robe.

The bats know that the first place Waylon goes when he gets out of Arkham is to you. But…they also all know to wait at least a day or two before they come for him. To allow you to spend some time together, but also because most of them have caught of glimpse of you… reunions…

Bruce wont admit it, but he’s at least impressed with you being able to take two of them at the same time, even after all these years. He might note down your many skills somewhere… just in case.

Reunions with Waylon are typically a hot and steamy affair. Or well, as hot and steamy as a guy whose as cold as a reptile can get. There are days where either of you may not be up for it, and then its just cuddles and having some nice domestic time together before he’s taken back to Arkham again.

But when it does get hot, then you are very happy you own the entire building. Waylon can get quite loud, but never as loud as he still makes you even after all these years.

Sure, you’ve learned to handle it more after all this time, but it still makes you squeal when Waylon fits both his shafts inside you at the same time, lifting and moving you around like a doll.

Where Waylon may be rough and violent in every other part of his life, Waylon is slower and much more careful in the bedroom. He doesn’t want to lose his senses and hurt you on accident. You have some very faded bite and claw scars on your body, back from when you first got together, and Waylon likes to remind himself of that.

Sometimes you do want him to be rougher about it, so you pull all the skills you’ve gained over the years. And Waylon is but a man, even with the scales and all, so he can’t resist you for very long. It always ends up with you writhing, face in the pillow that’s stained with your tears and drool or pleasure, as Waylon growls and snarls behind you, his big, clawed hands moving you back and forth with ease.

He always feels a bit guilty about it afterwards, especially seeing how much you leak all over the sheets. Expect to find yourself being pampered and loved on for the next couple of days. Even the bats seem to leave you to it, most likely having heard your cries. You get a feeling the people in the next building heard them too. But you honestly don’t care anymore.

You may have Waylon, and many others, wrapped around your finger, but so does Waylon with you. And neither of you really seem to mind anymore.

[sitepathos]

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 2: The Neglect

The drive to the airport only made you feel more nervous about living here; you’ve only ever known Goodsprings, a town so small you could see everything in less than an hour, and now here’s a giant city that makes you feel like an ant. Even Vegas seems small to Gotham. And if their size wasn’t bad enough, the buildings’ weird stone creatures looked like they were waiting to fly off and scoop you up.

Luckily, your Daddy’s house is outside the city, surrounded by a wall with large fields behind them. It made you feel a little better that you wouldn’t be surrounded by so many people all the time.

“And here we are, Master Y/N,” mr. Pennyworth says as he pulls up in front of the massive mansion.

You get out and start to feel even more nervous. This isn’t a house, it’s a castle! Like the ones Momma showed you when she was researching stuff for her books. You’d probably need a map just to find the bathroom!

But, Mr. Pennyworth climbs up the stairs to the front door and you don’t want to make him mad, so you follow behind him. He opens the door and you’re inside a massive room with a giant grand staircase with a long red rug leading up to a second level that you can see leads to other places in the mansion.

“Welcome to Wayne Manor, Master Y/N. If you’ll follow me to your room, please.”

He leads you to the second level and down a few hallways to a room on the other side of the mansion. As you walk, you can’t help but think that all of Goodsprings could live here and there still be lots of room left.

“I apologize for the walk, but as Master Wayne and I have been the only two long term residents of the manor, the rooms meant for the family have not been in a suitable state for quite some time. And since it’s been some time since we’ve had guests stay over, the usual guest rooms have been repurposed for storage. I’m working on having one of the family bedrooms ready for you as soon as possible so you’ll be close to your father.”

“It’s alright,” you say, your voice almost a whisper. You really didn’t expect the butler to be so nice to you. “Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth.��

He frowns a bit, but says nothing before opening the door to reveal a room smaller than your one back home. A bed sits in the far corner of the room with a dresser directly in front of it, a big tv sitting on top of it. There’s a door to the right where you enter the room.

“That door leads to your bathroom, Master Y/N. We have some time before the movers come with your belongings. Would you like to see the rest of the manor?”

“No, thank you. I think I wanna sleep after we put everything up.”

“Of course, you must be exhausted. If you want, I can handle collecting the boxes while you rest. I can leave them outside your door for you to deal with later.”

“I can help, Mr. Pennyworth.”

He seems a little surprised that you insisted on helping, but he says nothing before leading you back outside where a delivery truck stops behind the car. Since all you had was a few cardboard boxes that had nothing but clothes, toys, stuffed animals, books, and decorations, it didn’t take long to bring it all to your room and set everything up. As you look at your new room with all your stuff in it, you can’t help but feel like none of it belongs here.

That you don’t belong here.

“Do you need anything else, Master Y/N? Perhaps something to eat?”

“No thank you, Mr. Pennyworth. I just wanna sleep.”

“Very good. But just know, when you wake up, you will be eating something.”

You just nod and close the door, turning off the lights before crawling into bed. As you get settled, you can’t help but notice how cold the house feels. Yeah, you’re not in Nevada anymore, where it can go over a hundred degrees in the summer, but it’s like the house blocks any kind of heat, leaving only the cold. You close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

You wake up, dreaming of your Momma yelling for you and being in a car when something slams into you, and when you look around your room, you’re greeted by absolute darkness. As if the sun had completely disappeared. You jump out of bed and rush to the light switch, slapping it. When the lights come on, you realize that the lightbulb above you is dim and without the sun, it barely lights up your room. Wanting to be where it’s bright, you run out of your room and down the hall only to find the rest of the house is just as dim as your room, almost like no one in this house likes the light. Your little legs carry you down the same route you took earlier today and fortunately, the foyer is completely lit up by a giant crystal chandelier.

You run down the stairs and into another hall near the staircase. You pass by large room after large room and finally find yourself in a fancy kitchen, Mr. Pennyworth standing in front of a giant refrigerator.

“Master Y/N,” he says. “Are you alright?”

“Yes sir,” you say, not wanting to worry the man.

“But you’re out of breath. And you’re sweating.”

It’s then you notice that your forehead is slick with sweat and your chest is heaving. When you look up at the butler, you can tell he’s obviously worried about you.

“I got scared,” you admit. “I woke up and it was so dark.”

“I would imagine since it’s nighttime.” You jump a little at that. “You’ve been asleep for over twelve hours. I would’ve waken you up, but you looked like you needed the rest.”

“I haven’t slept so good since Momma…” You can’t bring yourself to say it. “Left.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed about, my boy.” He walks over to you and bends down to your height. “I could tell that you and your Mother were close and losing her so sudden is something no one so young should go through. I know that she can never be replaced, but I promise you that Master Bruce and I will be here for you and will help you with whatever you need.”

You feel the empty feeling that’s been with you since Momma died shrink just a little bit. Maybe you aren’t as alone as you thought.

“Alfred,” a deep voice lungs from behind you. You both look back to see a tall man with black hair and blue eyes standing in the hall. “I’m about to head out.”

“Master Bruce,” Mr. Pennyworth says, standing up. “This is Master Y/N. He’s awoke from his nap just a moment ago.”

You feel your heart stop at the man’s name. This is your Daddy? A million different questions swirled around in your head, like what was he like, what’s his favorite thing to do, did he remember your Momma?

He looks down at you. “Oh,” he says, a blank look on his face. “Hello.” With that, he turns around and begins walking down the hall. “I’ll be in touch, Alfred. From the sound of it, it’s gonna be a busy night.”

You feel your heart split in two at the way he just completely ignored you. Did you do something wrong? But you didn’t even say anything!How can he be bad at you if you haven’t said anything? You do your best to not cry as you look up at Mr. Pennyworth, who’s very angry.

“I’m sorry, Master Y/N. I know he’s throwing himself into his work to deal with Master Jason’s death, but that behavior is absolutely unacceptable. I’ll make sure he apologizes for that in the morning.”

Unfortunately, your Daddy didn’t say he was sorry when you woke up that morning. In fact, he wasn’t there when Mr. Pennyworth brought you down for breakfast, his work said there was someone important at one of his offices outside the country, so he hopped in his plane long before you woke up.

You were hurt, but Mr. Pennyworth said that he’d make sure that when things calmed down, you and your Daddy would have a long talk. You could do nothing but nod, trying not to cry because all you wanted was your Momma to walk through the door and take you back home. You got even more lonely when you started your new school, Gotham Academy, which is where all of Gotham’s rich people send their kids; Goodsprings Elementary wasn’t even half the size of this school and to make things worse, you had no friends here. That’s not to say that people didn’t want to talk to you, somehow news got out that you, the love child between Bruce Wayne and some unknown woman, were attending Gotham Academy, older and younger students shared your the moment you walked through the door. Hearing them ask you about your Momma only made you miss her more, so you stayed quiet.

They found something new to latch on to later in the week when your Daddy adopted Tim Drake, a boy whose parents were just as well known as him; his parents were killed in a plane crash and Daddy took him in. When they found out that the famous Tim Drake was now the adoptive son of Bruce Wayne, you were forgotten about. They asked him what Wayne Manor was like, how’d he feel to be adopted by Bruce Wayne, and other questions you didn’t really understand.

You were excited about Tim joining the family, though; you often wonder what having a brother would be like and you two were very close in age. It would be nice to have someone other than Mr. Pennyworth to talk to. Maybe the two of you could play Pokémon together!

You walked up to him the day Mr. Pennyworth told you that he’d be living at the manor with you, excited to get to know your newest family member, but that excitement quickly died when he took one look at you and walked away, like you weren’t interesting to him. You tried over and over to get him to like you, to get him to play with you, to at least look at you, but he just pushed you away (very harshly). And if things weren’t bad enough, he and Daddy spent every night together, locked away in the library.

It wasn’t fair! You were here first and had yet to talk to him, but Tim gets to spend time with him! And every time you tried to join, they just pushed you away, like you were some kind of fly buzzing around them. When that door closed, you wouldn’t see them until the next morning, so they were probably watching movies in there or something just as fun. You lived with three other people and you somehow felt more alone than ever since Momma died.

You met Dick a year later, around the anniversary of Momma’s death. At first, you were excited because Mr. Pennyworth said he was very friendly and had grown up in a circus before being adopted by Daddy, so he could do all sorts of tricks. Maybe you’d finally have a friend who wasn’t the butler.

Unfortunately, this ended in disappointment, too. Sure, it started off nice, he greeted you warmly (at least more warmly than your Daddy or Tim had) and ruffled your hair. You were so happy, you thought you’d explode. Finally, you had someone that you can spend time with.

“Dick,” your daddy said in his usual tone less voice.

“Sorry, baby bird, gotta go! We’ll hang out soon, though, promise!”

“Soon” never came though. He came over a few times during the day to spend time with Tim, either helping him with homework or taking him to Bat Burger, but never you. He always said that he promised to hang out with Tim and he’d do the same with you, but after the fifth time it happened, you stopped trying. He also spend time with Tim and your Daddy in the library at night, none of them coming out for the rest of the night.

Barbara came into your life little bit after Dick. When you saw her rolling in her wheelchair, you felt bad and offered to push her around. She snapped at you, saying she was fine and didn’t need your help. That was the first, last, and only time you talked to her. When you saw her spending time with your “family” in the library, you weren’t even hurt because you had grown used to it.

Cassandra and Stephanie came in around the same time when you nine. Stephanie was a burst of energy and it actually surprised you; Wayne Manor seemed to cancel out all noise and forced anyone inside it to be silent (at least that how it was for you) and she seemed to be happy to meet you. That lasted all of a week, though, and she quickly lost interest like a puppy that had grown up and was no longer cute to its owners.

Cassandra looked at you once, like he was trying to solve some mystery, and that was it. Alfred told you that she was mute and you did your best to learn ASL to better communicate with her. You picked up some of the basics, but not enough to carry on an actual conversation, so you opted to carry a little notepad with you so she could write things down, but when she kept ignoring you in favor of interacting with the rest of the family, you got the message. And when she and Stephanie spent time with your “family” in the library night after night, you stopped referring to Bruce as your Daddy. It was clear he didn’t want the title.

You had Alfred, anyway. Spending nights baking, helping him with his chores, and talking about your day over tea was enough for you.

Jason came back (from the dead) when you were ten. You met him when you caught him trying to sneak into the mansion through a window instead of coming through the door like a normal person (then again, you’ve long since realized that no one in this place is normal. Except Alfred.). Your meeting ended when he gave you a black eye and told you to stay away from him when all you did was say hi. You cried the entire night because you had school pictures the next day. It was a while before Jason started making regular appearances, but when he did, you weren’t surprised to see him spending nights in the library. When he glared at you, his blue eyes turning green, you asked Alfred to let you eat in your room and the man agreed to bring your meals to you.

When you were fifteen, the last one of join the Wayne Family was your biological brother, Damian. And the day you two met, you became convinced he only existed to make your pathetic life a living hell because the moment Alfred introduced you to him, he pulled an actual sword on you, giving you a small scar on your left cheek. You could do nothing but fall on your ass and look up in horror as this ten-year-old boy from hell raised his sword, spouting some nonsense about him being the “true blood son,” that you were “nothing more than the son of a harlot,” and how he will “be the one to inherit his father’s legacy.” For a moment, you thought you were about to be killed by the little bastard when Bruce appeared from out of nowhere and carried him off, Damian shouting threats and insults at you the entire time.

“Sorry about that, Y/N,” Dick said as he helped you up. “Are you ok?”

“What do you think,” you shouted at him. “That monster just sliced my face with a sword and tried to kill me!”

“Hey, don’t call him a monster,” he responded, give you a look of disappointment. “He had a difficult upbringing and he’s having to get used to Gotham and living with us. You should try to be a good big brother and support him.”

For a moment, you thought you suffered from a stroke and had misheard him, but the look on his face said you heard him correctly.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? He tries to kill me and I’m suppose to just let it go?”

“There’s no need for that kind of language, Y/N.”

You deemed the “conversation” a lost cause and leave, Dick calling out to you before going to the wing that holds the master bedrooms. Fortunately, Bruce kept bringing in other people to be a part of this demented family, so you were stuck with the tiny guest room that didn’t even have a window. But, it was far away from them, so it was a good trade.

After that, it seemed like Damian made it his mission in life to make your life hell. You couldn’t pass by him without him insulting you, hurting you, or bringing up your Momma, which would lead to you crying your eyes out. And when he started collecting pets, he would send them after you, Titus and Alfred the Cat chasing you throughout the manor, forcing you to barricade yourself in your room.

That leads to today: you accidentally dropped your Momma’s pen while walking to the kitchen and unfortunately, Damian was around the corner, watching the entire thing. He was able to move faster than your eyes could follow and before you knew it, he had swooped down and grabbed it just as you were about to. You look up in horror as he stares down at you with his usual smug and condescending expression as he waves the pen around, clearly mocking you.

“Your reflexes are slow and pathetic, inferior. You’re a massive disappointment to the Wayne bloodline.” He stares at the pen with disgust. “While this pen is poorly made and lacks any craftsmanship, it’s still more than a failure like you deserves.”

You stand up to your full height, trying to ignore the burning desire to tackle the little brat and bash his stupid head in. “Give that back to me. Now.” You realize you’re practically grinding your teeth to powder.

“I don’t take orders from you, inferior,” he bites back, his green eyes glaring at you. “You’re far beneath me. I come from two perfect bloodlines and that makes me superior to you by rite of birth. Your whore of a mother somehow managed to slither her way into my father’s bed and bring you into the world. You might have Wayne blood, but your tainted blood dilutes it.” He gets in your personal space nod even when looking up at you, he still tries to assert whatever dominance he thinks he has. “We will never be equals.”

You use this opportunity to grab the arm holding your Momma’s pen. As expected, he does not take kindly to this.

“You dare lay your hands on me,” he screeches, wrenching his hand away.

You don’t know how, but the little shit has impressive strength. Sure, you’re not an athlete (you’ve stayed roughly the same height since you hit puberty and can’t build muscle mass to save your life), but he shouldn’t have this kind of upper body strength! But, you’re determined to reclaim the pen, so you grab his hand with your other one and start pulling with all your might, doing whatever you can to break his grasp of it.

“Let go of me, you filthy interloper!” With a big tug, he breaks your grip and you can only look on in terror as he walks over to the kitchen window. “If you want this pen so much, you can look for it out there!” In a flash, he opens the nearby kitchen window and hurls your pen outside, where a massive downpour drenches the yard.

You can’t help but look on as it flies far from the mansion and out of your field of vision; on the ground, you see a ripple in the middle of the massive lake of rainwater and mud that the storm has created over the last three days of nonstop rain, indicating that your precious pen is now underwater.

In that moment, you feel nothing but immense sadness at your pen’s loss and unbridled rage at the one who did caused it. Every last thing he’s done to you flood your mind and you feel your face becomes incredibly flushed, your vision goes blood red in rage, and hot, angry tears stream from your eyes; before you know it, you’re right behind him, his back still turned to you from throwing your pen.

“You son of a bitch,” you shout at the top of your lungs, causing him to turn his head as you quickly deliver a swift backhand to his left check, the sound of your hand striking him echoing in the kitchen.

You know he shouts something back, but you’re so filled with rage that his words fail to reach your ears. You know he’ll retaliate and probably get in trouble with Bruce and Dick, but you don’t care. You’re pissed off and want nothing more than to inflict even a small amount of pain onto him, so that he’d feel even an ounce of what he’s made you feel since you two met. Using your height advantage, you grab both his shoulders and with all your rage-enhanced strength, you shove him to the floor, loving the sight of him wincing when he lands on his rear, but instead of looking up at you in fear like you wanted, he has a pissed off look.

Realizing that finding your pen is more important than dealing with him, you sprint to the door, throw it open, and dash into the rain, not caring that your clothes were completely soaked after only a few seconds and the wind froze you to the core. All that matters is finding that pen, the only piece of Momma that you were able to take with you, something so precious to her she refused to go anywhere without it.

Except that day, when she was taken from you and your life fell apart.

You wade through the many puddles, your socks providing no support so you stumble and fall, getting even more wet. But you pick yourself up and keep running until your at the puddle far from the house and that’s when you get on your hands and knees and start waving around hoping to touch even a little bit of the metal. You feel nothing, but you don’t let up, moving around the puddle, not caring that you’re getting more and more soaked with every second and that mud is slathered over your arms and legs.

“Come on,” you shout to yourself, getting more and more upset. “Come on, where are you?”

Finally, you feel something small, metallic, and cylindrical. You latch onto it like a lifeline and pull it up so hard the force of it makes you fall on your back, the puddle covering your entire body. You quickly sit up to see Momma’s pen. Wet and covered in mud, sure, but it’s back where it belongs. Now that the urge to find it is over, your senses quickly catch up and your realize your freezing, shivering, and soaked to the bone.

You run back to the mansion and when you close the door, you see that everyone is in the kitchen, all their eyes on you. You look at Bruce and see him mad, you look at Damian and see a shit-eating grin, and you look at Dick and see disapproval.

“Did you slap Damian when all he did was ask you for a pen,” Bruce asks.

That little shit’s convinced them this is all your fault. Of course, you should’ve known that he’d make you the bad guy and deflect any blame on his part.

“He didn’t ’ask,’ he took—“

“But you did slap him over a pen,” Bruce cuts you off.

“Yes, but—“

“Wow, I’ve done some petty shit, but this beats all,” Jason mocks, acting like this was some show and not you being ganged up on.

“That’s so uncalled for, Y/N,” Dick chides you. “There’s no need for you put your hands on Damian, especially for something so small.”

Your breath hitches and all you want is for the floor to open up and swallow you whole. They say nothing to you and ignore your existence for years and now, the one time they notice and speak to you, it’s to do this?

“Master Bruce,” Alfred interjects. “You’re not being fair. I believe that pen—“

“Alfred, it doesn’t matter what’s so special about the damn thing, it’s just a pen.” He holds his hand out to you. “Give it to me. Damian asked for it and after that you just did, he’s going to get it.”

You see Damian’s grin grow and your rage comes back.

“Hell no,” you mutter, slipping it into your pocket. You see everyone’s eyes widen while Bruce’s frown gets more intense at your defiance.

“What did you just say?”

You can tell he’s pissed at you defying him. Oh well, you’ve already dug your grave, what’s adding a few more feet to it gonna do?

“I said hell no!”

“Oh, man,” Jason cackles. “You done fucked up, kid!”

“Go to your room,” Bruce says with clenched teeth. “You’re grounded.”

You quickly leave the room, wanting to put as much room between them and you as possible. As you leave, you hear them talking about you, asking what’s wrong with you, how childish you are, and other stuff you really don’t want to hear right now. When you close your door behind you, the dam breaks and you fall to your knees, letting out a wail and allowing tears to stream from your eyes like a waterfall. The last time you cried this hard was when you were told Momma had died and it’s in this moment you wish you had been in the car with her now more than ever.

A knock at the door brings you back to your harsh and uncaring reality.

“Master Y/N,” Alfred calls from the other side. “May I come in?” You get up and open the door. “Oh, my dear boy.”

You allow him to come in and he closes the door behind him before bringing you into a tight hug, which is when you resume your crying.

“I hate them,” you shout in between sobs. “I hate them all!”

“I know,” he says. “I tried to tell them after you left the room, but they wouldn’t listen.”

“Alfred,” you say, pulling yourself together enough to talk coherently. “When I turn eighteen, I’m going back to Goodsprings.”

He pulls away and looks at you. “I understand why you feel that way, but it’s been ten years since you left, Master Y/N. If you go back there, you’ll be alone.”

“I’m alone here, Alfred!” You pull away from him. “Ever since I came here, they’ve made it clear that I’m unwelcome here! That I don’t belong here! At least back home, I’ll be surrounded by memories of Momma.”

“But this has been your home for ten years.”

“This isn’t my home, Alfred. It never was and it never will be.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it. Instead, he pulls you back into another hug. “I understand. I’ll miss you dearly, but if going back will make you happy, I’ll wish you all the best.”

You can do nothing but cry. You’ll miss Alfred, the only good thing to come out of going to live in this godforsaken city and this manor from hell, but when you need to get out of here. The sooner you leave Gotham and get back to Goodsprings, the better you’ll be.

A/N: thank you all so much for the likes and comments on chapter one! I really didn’t think that so many people would like it, but here we are! I hope you all continue to enjoy this series!

Tag list: @minkyungseokie @solelifauna @nosyrobin

[m-jelly]

could I just get a Levi x fem reader of him pretty much just simping for the reader, having a huge crush on her. While Hange is shipping them so hard and tries to get Levi to admit he has feelings for the reader.

Crushes and courage.

Levi x fem reader

Small town, Sheriff Levi, confessions.

Sheriff Levi has a massive crush on the local florist and one of his deputies notices.

Hange walked into Levi's office and noticed two flower vases. The sheriff didn't care much for flowers, but a beautiful and cute florist moved to town and opened a store. Now the sheriff couldn't get enough of them, it was fascinating to watch.

Hange had known Levi for a long time and she knew very well he barely showed interest in dating, hell he'd never really dated much. She was aware of at least two past girlfriends, but they didn't last too long both ladies did say Levi was an incredible lover it just didn't seem like he was deeply in love with them. It seemed like Levi had been with them to be nice.

So, seeing how Levi was with you it interested Hange greatly because he almost seemed obsessed with you. After watching him for a bit she was convinced her grumpy friend had a massive crush on the cute florist. This crush was probably going to lead Levi to experience the greatest love in his life. You were his soulmate. You two were meant to grow old together. So, she was sure as shit that she would do everything in her power to get you together.

"Sheriff?"

Levi looked up from his desk. "Mm?"

Hange smiled at him. "Cute flowers."

"Thanks." He gazed at them and smiled fondly. "Very cute."

"Why haven't you asked her out?"

Levi went bright red. He fumbled with his pen and cleared his throat. "Tch, wh-what are you talking about?"

She slammed her hands on his desk and said your name. "You like her. You have a crush on her. I know it!"

He gulped hard. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, so you just suddenly got into flowers, huh!?"

He looked around him. "Well."

She pointed at him. "Cut the bullshit." She released a long sigh. "You have never had a crush on anyone before, so your feelings for her are very serious." She sat down and huffed. "I'm not here to take the piss or tease you. I want you two to end up together." She smiled. "I'm here to help."

"I..." He looked down at his papers. "I need to work."

"If you sit with your thumb up your ass some other man is going to come in and take her."

Levi flinched and stiffened up. "What?" His voice was deep and the look in his eyes became dark.

She smirked knowing she'd found the right jab to get him interested. "Well, she's a very beautiful woman and there are a few single young men in town."

"No!" He shot to his feet. "That's not possible. She can't..." He whined a little. "Are there really other men interested in her?"

"Yes, so get your ass to her shop and ask her out now."

Levi grabbed some of his things and rushed out the door. "I'm going!"

She followed him for a bit. "Good luck!"

He raced across the town until he got to your shop. He shoved your door open making the bell jingle. A blush consumed your cheeks when you smiled at him and said your usual welcome. His heart raced in his chest and he knew. He wanted you.

You placed down a pot and smiled. "Welcome Levi."

"I like you! Date me!"

You stared at Levi in pure shock. He looked adorable to you with his strong blush and determined look in his eyes. "You...you like me?"

He walked closer to you. "I...I do...I umm..." He took his hat off and hummed. "I've had feelings for you since you arrived here." He gripped his hat tightly as he lowered his head. "I ah." He took in a deep breath before looking you in the eyes. "I w-would like to g-go on a date with you. Th-that's if you want to?"

You walked up to him and caressed his cheek. "You are so cute." You leaned closer and kissed his cheek. "I would love to go on a date with you."

His eyes lit up at your words. "Really?"

You hummed a laugh. "Really. To be honest, I didn't think you liked me that way. I have a big crush on you and have had one for a while. You're just so handsome and strong. It makes me so happy you feel the same way."

Levi smiled at you. "Could I take you somewhere for lunch, is that okay?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that. I'm looking forward to it."

Levi leaned closer and kissed you making you flinch at the suddenness of it. "A-Ah, I uh..."

You giggled at how adorable he was. You grabbed his tie and pulled him closer. "How about we try that again, hmm?"

He purred when your lips met his. He sighed through his nose as he wrapped his arms around you and held you. "Mm." It was better than you both had imagined.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a

@youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity

@nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08

@levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife

@demonic-bird @searriously @anti-cupid

[hoesluvjude]

Love Language || jude bellingham

Word count:1.3k

Genre:fluff

Summary:How jude shows his love to you

Masterlist

Y/n sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers gently tracing the worn edges of the envelope. It was Jude’s handwriting, as familiar to her as the sound of his voice. Neat but slightly rushed, like he couldn’t get the words out fast enough before they slipped away. She smiled softly, already knowing what she’d find inside. It was their thing—one of the many small but deeply meaningful ways Jude had of showing his love for her.

She carefully slid a finger under the envelope flap, pulling out the folded sheet of paper. The faint scent of his cologne wafted up, a comforting, familiar smell that made her feel like he was right beside her, even when he wasn’t. Unfolding the letter, she settled back against the pillows, her heart fluttering with that familiar warmth she always felt when reading his words.

"To my one and only Y/n," it began, like every letter before this one.

"I know I say this every time, but I can never seem to find the right words to tell you just how much you mean to me. It’s funny, right? I can talk all day to the press, or during interviews, or even when we’re just hanging out with friends. But when it comes to telling you how I feel, the words never seem enough. So I write. I write because it’s the only way I know how to pour out everything I’m thinking, everything I’m feeling, without stumbling over myself."

Y/n smiled, her heart swelling as she read the familiar sentiment. Jude had always been a romantic, but his love letters were something special. They were his way of showing her the side of him that no one else got to see—the vulnerable, thoughtful, and deeply caring man behind the public persona. He didn’t write letters because he had to. He wrote them because he wanted to,because it was his way of showing her just how much she meant to him.

"I think about you constantly, even when I’m miles away, even when I’m on the field. You’re always with me, Y/n. In the quiet moments before a game starts, or when I’m lying awake at night in some hotel room, wishing you were there beside me, your laugh, your smile—it’s all I need to feel at home. You’re my home, Y/n."

Her throat tightened as she read those words. He had a way of making her feel like the most important person in the world, even when he was away on trips for his football career. No matter how far apart they were, he always made sure she knew how much she was loved.

This letter, like all the others, was filled with little details—memories of quiet moments together, thoughts he’d had about their future, and reflections on the life they were building together. Jude never shied away from being honest in his letters, and it was something Y/n cherished more than anything. Every line was a glimpse into his heart, and she knew how precious that was.

She folded the letter gently, placing it with the others in the small wooden box Jude had given her. It was handmade, of course—just like most of the gifts he’d given her. Jude had a habit of pouring his heart into everything he gave her, whether it was something he bought or something he crafted himself. He wasn’t the type to just grab a gift at the last minute. No, Jude was thoughtful, meticulous even, when it came to showing his love.

Among the things she cherished most were the white tulips he always gave her, her favorite flower. It had started with a single bouquet early in their relationship, back when Jude had noticed her stop at a florist’s window, admiring the tulips on display. Ever since then, he made it a point to bring her white tulips for every special occasion—and sometimes just because. Each bouquet came with a small note tucked between the stems, written in his familiar scrawl, reminding her of how much he loved her. Whether it was a big celebration or just an ordinary Tuesday, those tulips had become a constant symbol of his affection.

There was the delicate silver bracelet he’d given her for their first anniversary. Each charm on it represented something special—a tiny football to remind her of how they met, a small book to symbolize her love of reading, and a miniature star to represent all the late-night conversations they’d had under the night sky. He had spent weeks looking for each charm, finding ones that perfectly matched the memories they shared.

She glanced around the room, her eyes falling on the framed sketch on the wall. Jude had drawn it himself—a simple but heartfelt drawing of the two of them sitting by a lake, her head resting on his shoulder, the trees behind them swaying in the breeze. He wasn’t an artist by any means, but he had poured his soul into that picture, and she had cried when he gave it to her. It was a moment frozen in time, captured by his love for her.

It wasn’t just the big, grand gestures, though. Jude had a way of making the ordinary moments extraordinary. Sometimes it was as simple as bringing home her favorite flowers after a long day or surprising her with a playlist he’d made of songs that reminded him of her. Once, he’d even learned how to bake, just to surprise her with her favorite cake on her birthday. The cake had turned out slightly burnt, but the effort behind it had made it taste like the best thing she’d ever eaten.

Y/n’s phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling her from her thoughts. It was a message from Jude. She opened it, her smile widening as she read his words.

"Check under your pillow."

Curious, she glanced at the bed, lifting her pillow to find another envelope tucked beneath it. She hadn’t even noticed it before. She grinned, shaking her head as she opened it, her heart already racing in anticipation of what he’d written this time.

"Surprise," the letter began."I couldn’t wait until I got home to tell you how much I love you, so here’s another letter for your collection. I hope you don’t mind that I keep doing this—I just can’t seem to stop."

Y/n laughed softly, her heart swelling with affection as she continued to read.

"I thought about getting you something fancy this time, but then I remembered you telling me once that it’s not about the price of the gift, but the thought behind it. So here’s my thought: you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You make me better every single day, and I’ll never stop trying to show you just how much I appreciate you. You deserve the world, Y/n, and if I could, I’d give you that. But for now, all I have are these words, and my love, and maybe a few more of those weird wooden things I keep trying to make for you."

She laughed again, her eyes misting over.

"I love you more than I can ever say. So I’ll keep writing, I’ll keep giving, and I’ll keep finding new ways to show you that, because you deserve nothing less. Always yours, Jude."

Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes as she folded the letter, holding it close to her chest. She didn’t need expensive gifts or extravagant gestures. Jude’s love was in every word he wrote, every carefully chosen gift, every handmade trinket, and every thoughtful act that made her feel cherished.

Jude was her love story, written not in grand proclamations, but in the quiet, heartfelt letters he left her, in the gifts made with his hands and his heart, and in the simple, beautiful way he loved her every single day.

And she wouldn’t have it any other way

[samandcolbyownme]

FIC MOMMA I NEEEEED MATT STURNIOLO IDC EHAT I MEED HIM

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, toxic relationship, arguing/fighting, name calling, kissing, rough unprotected sex, choking, hair pulling, biting, scratching, creampie filth

Word Count: 2.5k | unedited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

You couldn’t deny that the chaos in your relationship with Matt drove you insane. But the sick and twisted park inside of you loved it.

It loved the toxic chaos, the wreckage and it especially loved the make up sex that followed and falling in love with him all over again.

It was a cycle.

A dark and twisted cycle, but you couldn’t let him go.

“What the fuck, Matt?” You huffed, “You’re drunk, again?” You paused your tv show and sat up from the couch as he spoke, “Even when I’m drunk, you’re my my only type.”

“What does that even mean?” You ask, tilting your head as you hear familiar chatter in the background, “Are you at that fucking club again?”

“Nothing is happening, y/n. I just..” he groans, the sound getting quieter, “my friends hate seeing me so down.”

“Maybe if you wouldn’t be such a fucking asshole, you wouldn’t have to be so down.” You roll your eyes, “I said I was done and I meant it that time.”

“Come on, baby. You and I are like Bonnie and Clyde. If you’re done, I can have two grave sites dug later tonight because I’m not letting you go.”

“You literally called me a fucking crazy bitch for getting pissed that you flirted with the waitress right in front of me.”

“I wasn’t flirting, see.” He laughs, “I was being fucking nice, what do you want me to just be a fucking dickhead to everyone I come across?”

“You’re a dickhead to me so what the fuck does it matter?” You scoff, “I can’t.. I can’t do this.”

“Not fight any more?” He laughs slightly, “Yeah, same. So what do you say to a little.. make up sex? Hmm. I can come over right now.”

“No.” You say quickly, “I told you, I’m done.”

“Oh my god, y/n. You hate my guts, but then five minutes from now, you’re going to say you love me, fuck, I’m not-“ he sighs, “You can’t tell me you don’t love me. You posted those pictures of us, but you just cropped me out.”

“Yeah, because I looked good.” You roll your eyes, “I’m hanging up now. Have fun with your little one night stands and whatever the fuck it is you’re drinking.”

As you pull the phone away from your ear, Matt’s voice gets louder, “I love you, I love you, please.”

You shake your head, hitting the red circle.

You throw your phone down and take a deep breath as your phone chimes on the cushion next to you. You close your eyes, kicking your own ass for even looking at his texts.

I’m missing you baby

Is it someone new?

Y/n, please just tell me did you move the fuck on already? I mean, I guess you know what they say, can’t stop a running from running so go do what you need to do and I’ll be here when you come running back okay

You scoff, your thumbs moving at the speed of light as you text him back,

There’s no one fucking else Matt you fucking control my life, my everything. I’m trying to move on because your love is not fucking love and it’s all just a big fucking mess.

I said I’m done, and I mean it. Leave me the fuck alone or I swear to god I’ll slash your fucking tires

You grip your phone, your hands shaking with both rage and regret. You see his chat bubbles pop up and laugh at his response,

God

You’re actually crazy

I love it

You shake your head, closing your eyes as you try and figure out what to say back, “Fuck, Matt.” You sigh, shaking your head again before typing

I love you, Matt… but please, just let me the hell go we’re only hurting each other, and that’s not helping anyone in any way that is good

You set your phone down, hands moving to cover your face, “What the fuck. What the fuck.”

Your phone chimes again but you ignore it.

It chimes again, you ignore it.

It chimes again, and finally you huff, snatching your phone off the couch and standing up as you walk to your bedroom. You glance down at your screen, quickly skimming over his messages,

We can make it work, I can change we can do this

please don’t say that please

Let me come over let me see you please baby

As you’re typing, another message comes through and you can’t help but let out a laugh to hide the fact that it’s like a knife through your chest,

Fine I’m done with you

Bye

You throw your phone on your bed and close your door, turning to walk back out to the couch and click play on your paused show.

Two hours later, you decide to grab your phone. To your, not so much surprise, you see a text from Matt,

Hey

You roll your eyes, sitting down on your bed. You stare at the text, taking a deep breath before you start to type.

A knock on the door causes you to stop and you let out a sigh as you stand up, “I swear to god.” You walk out to the door, “Matt. If it’s you I’m-“ you open the door and there he stands, a smug smirk resting on his lips, “You’re gonna what?”

You roll your eyes, “close the door.” You go to close it and he stops it, holding it open enough to slip in before closing it, “No you’re not.”

“Leave.” You cross your arms, “I mean it, Matt. We can’t-“

“What? Can’t what? Be in love with each other? Because I hate to break it to you sweetheart, we are.”

“Matthew.”

“Y/n.”

You tilt your head back, eyes closing as you gather up all the patience you have, “Why are you here?”

“I said I missed you. So I did something about it.”

“We broke up.” You look at him, “And I meant it this time.”

He squints, leaning against the counter, “So then, what was.. mm, two nights ago?”

“Break up sex.” You shrug, “I don’t know.”

“The night before that?” He tilts his head a smirk on his lips and you shrug, “I don’t kn- I don’t know!”

“Mm. Okay.”

“I believe, I told you that I was leaving right after and you fought me on it.” You roll your eyes, “And guess what, I was gone when you woke up, both times.”

“That doesn’t mean shit, you still talked to me, called me-“

“Correction. I answered your calls.” You point at him and he chuckles, giving you a shrug, “Same difference.”

You shake your head, “Not really, no.”

He laughs, walking over to you. His hands slide over your hips and pull you in, “Come on, ma. I know you missed me, too. Can’t do a day without anything.”

“I can, you just never give it any time to see for yourself.”

He tilts his head, “Tell me you don’t think about it.”

“Think about what?” You look up at him, “If you’re referring to-“

“You.. face down, ass shaking, as you beg for me to fuck you. Telling me how sorry you are. How much you miss me, how much you miss how good I make you feel.”

“Shut up.” You look down and he tilts your chin up, “Eyes don’t lie, baby. I can tell you miss me just as much as I miss you.”

“Must not be a lot then.” A smirk toys with your lips and he smiles, “Mm. Keep telling yourself that.” He dips his head down, his lips connecting with yours for a split second before you push him away, “No. no. We’re not..” you sigh, “Not doing that.”

“We can be better, for each other, ma. Come on.” He walks over to you, “I promise, I’ll try harder.”

“You said that the last few times and look at where it’s gotten us.”

He scoffs, “I’m sorry, what more do you want from me?”

“I want to actually be treated like a girlfriend. Not an option, or a.. a place holder while you look for something.. someone else.” You shake your head, “You know what, I’m not explaining it anymore.”

“I know, you’re done. But let me prove to you how sorry I am, ma. Please. I’ve been needing you, non stop thinking about you.”

You chew on your lip, staring down at the floor, “It just.. feels like we breakup just to make up, you know?” You look up at him, “And that’s just.. I don’t know, lately I’m exhausted.”

“So let me take care of you.” Matt offers, “Please. I really..” he tilts your chin up, “we’re like.. Bonnie and Clyde, baby. I’m willing to die for you.”

“Sure as fuck doesn’t seem it. You’d probably be too busy looking at another girl to even see the bullet coming at me.” You push his hands off of you and go to walk away.

He grabs your arm, pinning you up against the wall.

You wanted to fight him, push him out of the door, but you just couldn’t, “Matt.”

“You’re who I want, I was dumb, stupid.” His lips trail up your neck and you let out a small sigh as he continues, “I’m trying, y/n.” He kisses up to your lips, “This is me trying.”

You reach up, laying a hand on his cheek, “I don’t know if I want to slap you, or choke you out.”

“I’ll let you do both if you’re on top of me naked.”

You look up at him, your hands pulling him in by the neck, “We scream when we fuck, we scream when we fight..” you shrug, “So why the fuck not.”

His lips are on yours. His hands travel down your body as he slides them down to lift you up.

Your left wrap tight around his waist, his hand tangling in the hair at the base of his skull as his lips move with yours.

He walks you over to the couch, laying you on your back as his body stays hovered over yours. He wastes no time slipping his hand into your sweats, his fingers circling your clit.

You moan, body arching off the couch.

He groans against your neck, “No one can replace you, just like no one can replace me.”

He sucks a hickey into your skin, earning an even louder moan from you, but they continue flying from your lips as his fingers slip into your achy cunt, “Fuck, oh my god, Matt.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders, eyes rolling back as his fingers curl, “Fuck, yes, yes.” You whine, walls squeezing his fingers, “Oh fuck, fuck.”

Matt kisses up your neck, “Keep them comin’ ma. Wanna hear all you got for me.”

You moan louder at his words, your nails dragging down his skin as your body tenses up and jerks beneath him, “I-I’m co- fuck, I’m there, I’m there!”

Matt’s fingers work you through your high, listening to your loud moans and whines as you come down, “Fuck, fuck, yes, yes!”

He pulls his fingers out, moving his hands to take off his white tank and you push your sweats down, kicking them off before you remove your shirt.

Matt stands up to kick off his clothes and he sits down, reaching over to pull you into his lap.

You immediately sink down onto him, head tilting back as you feel him enter you fully, “Oh shit.” You slide your hands up his shoulders, leaning forward as you look down at him.

His hands grip your hips, urging you to move, “F-fuck.” He groans, “Move, fuck, move.”

You move your hips, moaning louder and louder the faster your pace builds up. His hand slides up, taking your hand to move it to his neck, “Do it. Use me to get it all out, ma.”

You smirk, your lip pulling between your teeth as your hand tightens around his neck. He tilts his head back, moaning out as his hand returns to your hip.

Your mouth falls open, moans repeatedly flying out as you stare down at him, “You’re so fucking hot.” You tighten your grip and he moans louder.

Your eyes stay locked on his, your head tilting back as you slam your hips down, “Fuck, Matt! Fuck, fuck!”

His hands guide you up and down, his grip just as tight as your hand on him. You lean down, your lips connecting with his as your hands slide around his neck.

You grip the back of the couch, moaning loudly into Matt’s ear as you cum, “Fuck, fuck, feels so good, so fucking good.” A string of moans and whine follow, and suddenly you’re on your back.

“So fucking good.” Matt moans, his thrusts fast and intense as he guides you through, “Fuck, I love you.”

You arch your back, your nails creating welted lines as you drag your nails glide over his skin, “I-i love you, I love you, oh fuck, d-don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop.”

His lips land on yours, your moans mixing together which cut the kissing short. Your eyes roll back and close as your legs hold him tight around the waist, “Oh my god. Matt, Matt, fuck!”

“Feels so good.” He moans out loudly, “Fuck, ma. M’gonna cum.”

You open your eyes, staring up at him, “There’s no one else but you.” You pull him down, lips planting onto his, “I can’t let you go, either.”

He nods, groaning as his thrusts quickly turn sloppy. You tighten your legs and moan as you feel his cock twitching inside of you, coating your walls with his cum.

“Fuck. Fuck.” He moans, head tilting to the side as he slowly pushes in deeper, “Fuck, ma.” He looks down at you, giving you a slight smirk as his chest rises and falls quickly.

You undo your legs and lift your head, “Oops.” You smile and bite your lip as he pulls out, “Just couldn’t help myself.”

He shakes his head, “You know what this means right?”

You roll your eyes as he sits up, “I’m yours.”

“Mm, what else?” He bites his lip, smirking as you laugh slightly, “This pussy is also yours.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He leans in, pecking your lips, “So.”

“So.. what?” You stand up, your legs shaking slightly and Matt smiles as he notices, “Well first off, I think I did a good job, yeah?”

You slip on your panties and put your shirt back on, “Yeah, like always.” You laugh and sit back down next to him, “So..”

“Oh yeah.” He looks over at you, his head resting back on the couch, “You going to be here when I wake up?”

You take a deep breath, nodding your head with a smirk, “Maybe.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Thanks for reading! I love you all so much. I’ll catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[lucygxybaird]

We've seen brothers older friend!Billy but what about one where the reader is older (like 2 or 3 years)??? And she's a family friend that billy has always had a crush on growing up, but she always viewed him as a kid and he had to watch her go along with older guys he knows would never treat her as good as he would if he had the chance. Then after a year or two out of town, reader comes back to see Billy has grown into a man.

And he finally gets his chance to show her just how much he's grown...

oooooh--

(p.s. sorry this took so long, my brain is pudding rn.)

---

"Billy?"

It sure as hell looks like him -- same big blue eyes, fringed with thick, dark lashes, the dark curls escaping from underneath the brim of his hat, the long legs. But his shoulders are broader, his stride more authoritative, the tilt of his jaw a mixture of challenge and confidence. You think it's your brother's friend, sweet Billy Antrim who always looked at you shyly, hopefully, boyishly. If it is him (and maybe your eyes are playing tricks on you), he sure as hell doesn't look like that little kid anymore.

And then he looks up at you, his smile lighting up his face, and you see that adorable kid who was enamored with you.

"You're back?" Billy pulls you in for a hug, and you're shocked by the way his embrace engulfs you, by the overwhelmingly masculine scent of him. It's leather, a whiff of something sweet and tangy that you suspect is aftershave (was he even shaving the last time you saw him?), hovering over a warm musk that might simply be Billy's own natural scent.

Undeniably, you feel a twinge in your core, which doesn't abate when he tightens his arms around you and kisses the top of your head. "I'm back," you say, lifting your head with a smile, and his face is so close to yours that you can count the faint freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose. Despite yourself, you mutter: "Wow."

Billy grins, letting you go but not stepping away from you. The warmth of him, combined with the delicious smell of his skin, makes you a little wobbly; Billy grips your hands, and you find yourself leaning into him.

"Wow?" he says, quirking an eyebrow, and immediately your cheeks are on fire.

"I just meant...you look different," you tell him. He grins again. "I wasn't gone for that long, was I?"

He chuckles. "Almost three years," he says, and now it's your turn to flash him a smile.

"Were you keeping track, Billy?"

"Sure, I was," he says easily. He may look like a man now, but the earnest expression on his face is all innocence. "I missed you, and I wondered about you. It's a tough world out there, and whenever your brother went a long time without hearin' from you, I worried somethin' had happened to you."

He reaches up with one hand, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his eyes intently on yours. "I...I'm sorry," you manage. "Sometimes it was hard to find time to write. I..."

Billy smiles again and shakes his head. "You don't gotta apologize to me," he says. "I just wanted to let you know I was always thinkin' about you, that's all."

You smile. It's nice to know that someone besides your brother cares about you. Your brother has been looking out for you since you were both kids, when your mother died and your dad left in the middle of the night, evidently too overburdened by the mere thought of caring for his two children to actually attempt it. The two of you met Billy when he moved to town with his mother, his sweet little brother, and that bipedal rat of a stepfather.

"I thought about you, too," you admit, and it's true. Apart from your brother, Billy was the only person in this town you felt any regret about leaving -- especially because he'd already lost so much.

The corners of Billy's mouth pull up. He looks rather pleased with himself. "You did, huh?"

"Yeah, I did," you say, trying not to laugh. "I didn't really feel right just leaving you behind. I wondered who was gonna take care of you."

He smiles again, though there's a hint of chagrin in it now. "I wasn't some little kid you needed to fuss over, y'know."

You smile back at him. "Yeah, you were," you say gently. "This sweet, sincere kid who..."

You stop, flushing. You don't want to lay bare the fact that you always knew Billy had a crush on you back then; you don't want to embarrass him. But you'd been able to tell, for sure. The way he looked at you, his cross expression every time you mentioned you had a date. Once or twice, when a man did you wrong, Billy had even offered to fight him for you, which was as adorable as it was worrisome. You didn't want him getting hurt over you.

Billy chuckles, reading your silence like it's an open book. "Who was moonin' over you?"

Your color deepens. "Well, I..."

He smiles, leaning close like he's going to kiss your cheek. "I'm not that kid anymore," he says, his voice falling into your ear. Your core throbs warningly again. "I'm a grown man now. But I'm still moonin' over you. I never stopped."

You realize your breath is coming in soft, shaky gasps. "Billy..."

"Let's get outta here," he murmurs. "I wanna welcome you home like a man showin' his woman how much he missed her. And I really did miss you."

Fuck.

You look up at him, your lips parted. You have a second where you hope no one is watching the two of you, but for the most part, you really don't care. You have a brief but vivid mental image of Billy dragging you to the backroom right here in the bar, putting you up against the wall, and --

"Let's go," you agree, and you snatch at his hand, practically dragging him out onto the street.

Billy leads you toward his horse, and when his hands find your waist, you let out a soft gasp. He lifts you up onto the saddle and mounts up behind you; the feel of his broad, warm chest against your back has you pressing yourself against him. Billy clicks his tongue softly, and the horse obediently trots forward. You can feel Billy moving with the animal's gait, and you clench your thighs around the saddle.

It feels like it takes forever to reach Billy's lodgings, but as soon as you're off his horse, he has you in his arms. He almost lifts you off his feet as he takes you through the front door, and then he does have you against the wall.

"Billy," you whisper, almost whining, and then he leans in to capture your lips with his.

His kiss is hungry, strong, undeniably masculine -- it feels like he's just barely holding himself back from devouring you. You cling to him, arms winding around his neck, and when his thigh slots between yours, you don't hesitate to rock your hips down. "Oh, fuck," Billy mutters against your lips. "Fuck, I never thought..."

Your laugh is muffled against the curve of his neck as you press kisses to the skin. "Oh, never?"

His fingers deftly tug at the buttons on the back of your dress, and you feel his chuckle rumbling in his chest. "I mean, I thought about it, but I never dreamed it would actually happen." He pulls back, framing your face between his hands. "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he murmurs. "And the smartest, and the toughest, and the kindest."

His thumbs sweep over your cheek bones, his eyes boring into yours so intently that it ignites a fire in the pit of your stomach. "Those guys you were with back then, they weren't good enough for you," he says. "Maybe I was just a kid the last time you saw me, but I could see that. They didn't deserve you."

"But you do," you say softly, and his gaze doesn't waver.

"But I do."

He leans down to kiss you again, lifting you up of your feet and urging your leg around his hip. You can feel his arousal pressing against you, and you wrap your other leg around him, bringing I'm closer. There's just enough relief from the delicious ache between your legs that you start moving against him again, chasing this breath of a high.

Billy tightens his arms around you, pulling you away from the wall and taking lurching, almost drunken steps toward the bed in the corner. You let out a little giggle as he lets you drop onto the mattress, and you sit up, shrugging out of your dress and letting it pool around your waist. Billy kneels beside you on the bed, hands smoothing over your waist. "Shit, you're so perfect," he breathes, and tugs you against his chest, trailing kisses down your neck.

He lays you back, and you moan when the heated muscle of his tongue laps against your nipple. Billy reaches down and tugs your dress off all the way, mouth still lavishing attention to your breasts. You moan, the sound tinged with impatience, as you start working on the buttons of his shirt. He lets go of you long enough for you to slid the shirt away, and then he has you in his arms again, your bare chest flush against his.

"Oh, god, Billy," you mutter, and without thinking about it, you part your thighs, inviting. "Please, I'm so...I--"

His fingertips brush, butter-fly light, along your inner thigh, and you let out a whimper of anticipation. A grin ghosts across his face, though his look is intent, burning, as if he doesn't want to miss a second. When he finds your core, Billy's jaw ticks as he bites back a groan. "Shit," he mutters. "You're so wet..."

You press your head back against the pillow as he strokes you through your undergarments, your hips working against his fingers. "Fuck me, Billy," you manage. You lift your hand, tangling your fingers in his dark curls and pulling him down for a heated, greedy kiss. "I want you inside me, right now."

Billy moans against your mouth, and you feel his hips grind against yours. "God, yeah," he murmurs. "Fuck--"

You hear his belt jingle as he undoes his pants, a little grunt of relief falling from his lips as his aching cock finally springs free. You can't really help yourself -- you glance down, and your lips part at the sight of him. More than anything, you want him in your mouth, all of him, but Billy has other plans.

He presses you back and moves over you, his fingers tugging the waistband of your undergarments down until the two of you work together to get it off. You laugh as Billy tosses it over your shoulder, and he grins at you before kissing you again, so hot and hungry that you cry out against his lips. His broad palm skates down your ribs, delves between your legs, and you moan again as a finger slips inside you. "Billy..."

He adds another finger, stretching you open, and you groan. Billy increases the pace, occasionally burying his fingers deep inside you, his fingertips rubbing against your walls as the heel of his palm grinds against your clit.

You groan helplessly, loudly, even as Billy keeps up a torrent of hungry kisses. Your arms wrap tightly around him, fingernails digging into his back, and when he grunts softly in approval, you rake your nails down the path of his spine. Billy moans against your lips, the sound petering off into a whimper, and that's the trigger for your first orgasm. It hits so suddenly you can't even cry out at first, but then you're sobbing out Billy's name as your back curves.

"Fuck," you pant desperately. "God, Billy, please..."

He kisses you again, slowing the movement of his fingers as you come down. He pulls his hand away, sucking his fingers clean, before moving back and reaching for you. He helps you sit up, quite a feat considering you're actually a little dizzy. Billy draws you closer, kissing you again, though this time it's gentle, soft. Loving.

"C'mere, honey," he says, and he turns you around, directing you to brace your hands on the wall. He presses himself against you, his chest against your back, and you moan when you feel the head of his cock against your slick folds. "Please," you whisper, and he gives you an inch or two. "Billy...fuck, please, please, please..."

"Please, what?" he says, and you can hear the grin in his voice. "Tell me what you want, baby."

You let out a breathless little laugh, pushing your hips back against him. "You have to ask?"

He slides a hand over your stomach, the other coming up to cup your breast, gently tweaking the nipple. "No, I just wanna hear you say it," he says, his voice low, his lips brushing your ear.

"I want you to fuck me until I scream for you," you tell him. "I want everyone to know I've got you in my bed."

He drops his forehead to your shoulder with a muttered oath, but he doesn't hesitate to obey. The rhythm of his hips is immediately fast, rough, and unrelenting. You cry out loudly with each thrust, bracing yourself against the wall and pushing back against him. "Yes, yes, yes, yes," you gasp, and he nips at your earlobe.

"Am I your man?" he asks you, and his fingers come up to probe at your lips. "Tell me."

Your mouth opens immediately, and you suck on his fingers as soon as they touch your tongue. Not that you need it when his hand goes between your legs again, fingertips rubbing at your clit. God, you're so fucking close -- you're too dazed to even process the question he's just asked you, and you almost cry when his pace starts to slow.

"I said," he growls, almost pulling out of you completely, fingers stilling on your clit, "am I your man?"

"Yes," you answer at once. "God, yes, Billy, you're a man, you're my man, please, please -- "

He slams back into you, and you almost collapse, except his arm tightens around you and pulls you back against his chest. His fingers resume massaging your clit, and he's fucking you hard and fast. The symphony created between your two bodies would sound utterly depraved and filthy if not for Billy's sweet, soft moans, and you realize he's holding back because he just wants to hear you.

You reach back with one hand, grabbing hold of his hair. "Oh, god, Billy, I'm gonna -- I'm -- "

"I know," he mumbles. "Fuck. Me too, I'm gonna -- I don't think I can -- "

"Come inside me," you tell him, head tilting back so you can murmur into his ear. "I want you to fill me up so bad."

His teeth sink into your shoulder, but it does nothing to muffle his groan. "Oh, shit," he whispers, soothing the bite with one soft kiss after another. "Oh, fuck, fuck--"

You wouldn't have thought it was possible a few moments ago, but if anything, his rhythm intensifies. He's hitting you so deep that you're seeing stars, reaching that spot inside of you no one ever has before, and then --

When your high hits, it's so intense that your body lets go completely, and you're soaking the sheets. Just like you promised him, you do scream, losing control over your muscles as your legs start to shake. Billy follows you just a few moments later with a hoarse shout of your name, and he presses deep, stilling as he pumps himself into you.

He grinds against you slowly, languidly, while he tilts your head back so he can kiss you. His tongue slides between your lips and you welcome it eagerly, your body melting into his. You whimper as you can feel that delicious heat building between your legs again, and you start to rock slowly against him. "Billy, I'm...I think I -- I -- "

"Yeah, baby, I know," he says again. "Come on me. Use me. Oh, fuck, my pretty girl...my best girl, my woman, all mine..." His movements start to pick up, just a little, and you both groan softly.

"Billy..."

This peak washes over you slowly, like you're sinking into pleasure, and when it ebbs, you lean back against him. It takes a few moments for you both to be able to move, and by the time you're aware of yourself again, you're nestled in Billy's arms with the covers tucked up around you.

"All yours, huh?" you say, once you have your breath back, and he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"You sayin' you're not?" he says. You just smile, propping yourself up on your elbow to kiss him.

After tonight, you both know damn well you can't say that. He's your man, that's for sure.

[yanderes-galore]

Some concept for yandere Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), please?

Sure! I ended up combining these two requests because how I end up writing Alastor is meant to be... unpredictable? He's a dubious pairing for me so you can argue most of his actions are already "platonic" as he wouldn't show any sign of real "attraction" anyways due to how he is. Hope you enjoy this regardless :)

Yandere! Alastor Concept

Pairing: Dubious (Leans Platonic?)

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Violence, Sadism, Blood, Murder, Isolation, Soul deals, Stalking, Forced companionship/pairing.

Ah, Alastor, the radio demon.

The thing about Alastor is not many know his true intentions.

It's hard to tell what he wants and that's what makes him an unnerving character.

He acts amiable, charming, good-natured, playful...

But he's a sinner like no other.

He's an Overlord who has killed other Overlords and made deals with many.

He's probably one of the more intimidating characters not only in the show... but to have as a yandere too.

He doesn't see many as his equal.

He's sadistic, a fan of violence, and has an ego.

Alastor tends to hide true emotions and is only around to entertain himself.

The most interesting and scary part of his yandere is how unpredictable he is.

It's unknown why he's attached himself to you.

For one reason or another you've managed to catch his eye.

I would say for better or for worse...

But we all know it's for worse, right?

Alastor wouldn't tell you why he likes you, you can't pick up on it either.

He's just overly friendly with you.

In some way you could consider the radio demon your "friend".

He's capable of friendship, hopefully, considering how he is with Nifty, Rosie, and Mimzy.

Having Alastor on your side, no matter his intentions, is probably better than having him against you.

The demon is oddly attentive to you when he's attached.

You intrigue him and speaking to you is entertaining.

You're entertaining.

In fact, most of the time it just seems like he's around to entertain himself.

Or it looks like he wants something.

Alastor never seems to leave your side, always right behind you, laughing along to a conversation he was never a part of.

He just seems to insert himself into your life, never taking his red eyes off you.

You most likely first met as a member of the hotel.

You work to help Charlie, a task he finds amusing.

Alastor's darling just seems to be treated like a toy at times.

Although, as it progresses, he slowly begins to "care" more.

It's hard to tell what's genuine and what isn't.

Alastor has an intimidating aura around all demons.

Even you feel uneasy when he appears around you, always being charming as he strolls over.

It's like he's always playing a game.

You can never seem to find privacy without the radio demon appearing.

You could be speaking with Charlie, or anyone else really...

Then all of a sudden the radio demon wants to join in on the chatter.

A reason for his friendly and attentive behavior could simply just be because he wants a deal with you.

However... There's also times he just seems... protective?

It's more like he's possessive... Yet they're so similar.

Alastor may rarely let his true feelings slip, but there's times he sheds a bit of light on how he feels.

For example, Alastor loves to listen in on your conversations, as said before.

If Alastor heard someone speak of you negatively or threaten you... You notice his aura change.

It's that or if someone gets too close in general... be it flirtation or even just friendship.

Charlie hugging you or Angel playfully flirting with you for example...

It all seems to irritate Alastor to no end.

Maybe even to the point of the radio demon stepping in, clearing his throat as he tries to keep his temper in check.

Alastor is always watching, always listening.

You may not be his... but he observes you like you are.

He treats you like you are.

The only thing not making you his is a deal.

Which he'll find a way to get eventually.

Perhaps a reason Alastor likes you is because he likes control?

Maybe the radio demon gets a power trip when he chooses who can interact.

While intimidating and downright passive aggressive with others...

Alastor is surprisingly great with you.

He's friendly, always smiling, chatting you up whenever he has the chance.

He acts like a friend... Even if you're unsure if you can call him that.

Alastor may even notice your distrust, always thinking of ways to break down that wall between you.

While he isn't a fan of true emotions, he likes to see yours for some reason.

You may not fully trust him, yet he watches your smiles, frowns, everything.

For some reason you're just so fun to watch.

Alastor likes to dance with you for bonding.

You two are buddies, aren't you?

In that case, join him for a number, will you?

Hell, Alastor seems like the type to playfully tease his obsession.

He'll compliment you, be playful... Just to see your reactions.

He's playing with you.

Alastor is manipulative, often doing anything he can to get you guard down.

He's good at putting on a show, dancing with you and acting all nice.

Although, no matter how much he tries to convince you...

He still isolates you from conversations he dislikes, he watches your every move, he seems to be aggressive to those around you.

It's more like he's territorial than protective.

Alastor can get messy when it comes to his obsession.

We've seen in the show that he can turn many lesser demons into paste.

He's also killed Overlords.

So him being obsessed with you is unnerving, even dangerous.

Mostly because... Why would someone as powerful as him want you under his control?

Sure, he considers you both friends, but what does that mean when it comes to him?

A demon like him only brings violence and trouble.

Even those who know the demon well are stumped as to why he wants you.

Alastor asking you for your soul is expected.

In fact, you may have been waiting for that.

Why else would he be this nice?

Alastor would no doubt pressure his obsession into a soul deal to make them his.

Nothing quite says 'mine' like a chain around your neck.

However, Alastor will try to be patient to play his cards right.

He wants you to believe him.

He tries to promise you care and protection if you make a deal.

He treats you well and is respectful to you.

Yet you can somewhat tell what exactly he wants.

His obsession over you would start as intrigue and a sadistic curiosity.

But who knows, maybe over time the Alastor grows attached to your company.

Alastor doesn't genuinely love or care for many people.

Never has.

However... Perhaps he feels that way with you.

He cares for you in his own way.

He cares for you enough to watch over you, to kill for you, to isolate you... to make you his.

The last thing he needs to do to secure his bond with you is a soul deal.

Something he plans to coerce or force out of you.

Maybe he'd threaten to harm someone you care about if you don't.

Or maybe he'll bribe you.

Eventually, like the 'good friend' he is, he'll get you to sign that contract and give him your soul.

After that? Well, you're completely his to do what he pleases with.

Oh, but he won't force you to do anything else you may not want, darling.

No, this was all just a way to secure you to him.

He's now your companion to the end, isn't he?

He'll hold you, comfort you, treat you better than any other demon here can.

Why would he?

Well, you're his now.

Now no one else can touch what's his.

Which allows the demon to isolate you.

He won't let others speak to you for too long, always lurking around to watch you.

If they do, he'll call you away from them.

Why would you speak to anyone else?

Why would you need anyone else?

Isn't he the best friend you could ever have?

The best companion? The only one you need?

If you don't think so... Maybe he needs to correct how you think?

You don't want that, do you?

Alastor, no matter how much he calls you his friend and companion, is condescending.

He makes it seem like he owns you.

Sure, maybe he does care for you, yet he still isolates you.

He still keeps you all to himself.

There's no point in fighting him... why would you even need to?

He really is all you need... the perfect charming companion... you'll get used to being his, you have to.

[blindvogel]

I owe this epiphany and inspiration to @nin-dy-tro and to remembering The Flame Eternal, Emmrich's short story. So what if a coffin is not just a coffin?

~~~

There have been rumbling noises coming from Emmrich’s study for the past few days and while Kamari is curious she also finds herself barred from it by a very adamant Manfred. She doesn’t begrudge Emmrich his privacy or a secret but he’s been acting strange - nervous in a way she hasn’t seen him for a very long time if ever. 

So she is relieved to finally be invited in one evening, fetched by Manfred who clatters off once he delivers her to the door. They are long since past the need to knock but she still gives the door two quick raps before entering. Tonight feels different, special. 

The light in the room is dim, provided only by the flickering flames of the fireplace and a small handful of candles. Kamari’s eyes take a moment to adjust before she sees Emmrich standing by his desk, and only then notices the large shape in the middle of the room. A coffin. 

“Ah. Good evening, my dear.” He takes a few steps towards her, then stops, his fingers twining over and over as if he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. In the dim light she can just make out that his smile is there but a little strained. 

She drifts towards him, curious, confused, until her direct path is blocked by the coffin between them. “What is this about, Emmrich?” Her hand comes to rest on the edge of the open coffin, feeling the cool smooth marble against her fingertips. 

He clears his throat and makes a sweeping gesture, not quite holding her gaze. “I wanted to show you this. What do you think?”

Kamari acquiesces and turns her attention from Emmrich to the coffin. Perhaps this way she can figure out what has put him in such a state. Her fingers continue their exploration along the open lid and find intricate carvings that she can’t fully appreciate in this light but they are hewn into the marble with great precision that could only have come from a fine workshop in the Necropolis. The stone itself is a pearly white, almost glowing in the firelight - and she understands now why he had dimmed any other source. The upholstery on the inside looks soft, and she doesn’t resist the urge for too long to run her palm over it. 

A soft voice in her head whispers that perhaps to anyone else this would be macabre and strange but she has been born and raised in Nevarra, in the Necropolis, and a coffin like this…

Her eyes suddenly focus on the proportions, on the wider than normal width, the way the headboard curves just so. It’s meant for two.

Kamari’s mouth is suddenly dry, her heart beating so fast it could fly out of her chest. She swallows, then looks up to find Emmrich’s eyes fastened to her face, full of warmth and nervous anticipation.

“It’s beautiful, love,” she says, hearing her own voice crack. 

(And Bellara’s, incredulous, in her ear - He proposed with a coffin?)

“So you think you could imagine resting in it one day- with me?” His voice is quiet, hoarse with emotion. She rounds the coffin then so she can reach out for him, take his face gently in both hands. “I would love nothing more.” If there are any other words, they remain unsaid as his arms wrap around her and pull her close, his mouth finds hers in a breathless kiss.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

My Pieces Fit You (Jason Todd)

Summary: Jason learns that you're not leaving him… ever.

Warnings: fluff & angst

WC: 862

Read on Ao3!

--

The low hum of the safe house enveloped the two of you as you sat on the worn-out couch, the dim light flickering overhead. Gotham was unusually quiet for once, but even that peace felt fragile—like everything else in Jason Todd's life.

He sat across from you, shoulders tense, his gaze averted. The Red Hood helmet lay discarded on the table between you, a stark reminder of the life he led and the walls he had built.

You watched him, your heart twisting in your chest. There was something in the way he held himself tonight, the quiet way he stared at the floor, that told you he was carrying something heavier than usual. Jason was many things—brash, stubborn, reckless—but vulnerable was not one of them. Not often, at least.

The silence stretched until it became unbearable, and you broke it softly. “Jay… talk to me.”

His jaw tensed at the sound of your voice. He didn’t look up, but you saw his fists tighten, white-knuckled, as though he was battling a storm inside of himself. You knew he didn’t do this—didn’t talk about the things that tore him apart from the inside. But you couldn’t stand the distance, the way he was shutting you out again.

“I don’t need to talk,” he muttered, voice low, barely a grumble.

“Jason,” you said again, this time firmer. You reached out, hesitating for a brief moment before placing your hand gently on his. He flinched at the touch, as though he wasn’t used to it—to the warmth, the comfort. You were always the one person who could get close, but even then, he kept a piece of himself hidden, locked away.

His head snapped up suddenly, eyes burning with a frustration you didn’t understand at first. “I don’t need you to fix me,” he spat, the words coming out harsher than he meant them to. Immediately, guilt flashed across his face, but he couldn’t take the words back.

You didn’t flinch, though his words stung. You’d heard it before—how he didn’t need anyone, how he had survived alone. But the thing was, you weren’t trying to fix him. You just wanted him to see that he didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on his own.

“I know,” you whispered, your voice soft, a contrast to the fire in his. “I’m not trying to fix you. But you don’t have to keep everything locked up. Not with me.”

Jason stared at you, his eyes filled with something that scared him—something raw and real. His defenses were crumbling, and he hated it. He hated that you could see through him, hated that you cared enough to try.

“Why do you keep doing this?” he asked, his voice breaking, low and defeated. “Why do you keep coming back, even when I push you away?”

You smiled sadly, shaking your head. “Because I see you, Jason. The real you. Not just Red Hood, not just some guy trying to save Gotham. You.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, his chest heaving as though the weight of your words had knocked the wind out of him. For the first time, he didn’t look away. He just stared at you, something softening in his eyes.

“Every time I think I’ve got my life figured out,” he muttered, the words coming slowly, as though he was fighting each one, “you… you show up. And suddenly it’s like—” He paused, swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he searched for the right words. “You’re the missing piece I never knew I needed.”

The confession hung between you, heavy and fragile.

Your heart skipped a beat, the vulnerability in his voice unraveling something inside you. Jason wasn’t one to admit his feelings easily, and this—this was more than you ever expected.

A quiet laugh escaped you, though your eyes glistened with emotion. “You don’t have to be alone in this, Jay,” you whispered, your thumb brushing gently over his knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Jason let out a shaky breath, his walls finally crumbling. His eyes closed for a moment, and when they opened again, there was something softer, almost broken, in his expression. He reached out slowly, his hand covering yours, as if afraid that if he moved too quickly, you’d disappear.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Not after everything.”

You shook your head, leaning closer. “That’s not for you to decide.”

For the first time in a long while, Jason allowed himself to believe it—to believe that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to do this alone. That maybe you were the one thing he hadn’t known he was missing, the one person who made him feel whole again.

He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you, his forehead resting against yours. The world outside was still dark and dangerous, full of enemies and battles to be fought. But in this moment, it didn’t matter.

Because in this moment, Jason Todd wasn’t Red Hood, and you weren’t just another person who’d end up walking away.

You were the piece that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he could find peace.

[warping-realities]

A Night in the Devil's Den - Part III

Fred was just stepping out of the bathroom next to the main stage when he witnessed Mark's transformation firsthand.

He was still dumbfounded, trying to come up with excuses for what he saw—it must have been some kind of light trick, but Mark wasn’t the type to pull a stunt like that. That was more Jamie's style; maybe he convinced Mark to get into this. Yeah, it had to be something like that, he thought, coming up with justifications as he decided to head back to the bar to look for his friends and get an explanation for all this. Just as he was about to take his first step, someone spoke to him.

“It could have been you! But now another kind of life awaits you.” Turning around quickly, Fred found himself face to face with the club’s bouncer, who was smiling enigmatically at him.

Not wanting to get into trouble and fighting the curiosity to ask the man what the hell he meant, Fred continued on his way. Halfway to the bar, weaving through the crowd, he spotted the performer Marco, all sweaty, strutting on stage toward the VIP area where the club manager was grinning at him. Finally stopping, he flexed his muscles.

“What a freak show,” Fred thought, but he couldn’t look away. “Why and how did Mark get into this? And how the hell did that transformation happen?” he pondered, diverting his gaze when the two men began kissing passionately, but not before sneaking one last peek and seeing them both looking right at him, smirking as if they knew something he didn’t. Which was probably true. He needed to find those two jerks and get the hell out of there.

As he approached the bar, he got shoved by one of the muscular drunks dominating the place. “Where had all the women gone?” He was sure there had been a ton of them when they arrived. Picking himself up, he realized he somehow ended up behind the bar. A young Latino man in his twenties looked at him, grinning like he knew him.

“There you are, Papi! I’ve been waiting for you all night!”

“What the hell was this?” He didn’t know who this guy was, but there was something in his eyes…

“Jamie?”

“It’s Javi, you’re hurting my feelings, Papi, after you took my ass so hard, you forget my name like that…” The younger guy said, stepping closer while his smile fading.

He needed to get out of there; something was seriously wrong, and he had to leave—now! Without thinking twice, he stood up and bolted.

When he reached the entrance, he once again bumped into the mysterious Mr. Shay, who was caressing and kissing Marco—or was it actually Mark?

Seizing the chance to escape that madhouse, he slipped out the door, breathing a sigh of relief for a moment before running smack into the massive black bouncer, who stared him down as if daring him to leave.

With no way out, he turned back only to find himself facing an even scarier sight. Mr. Shay, this time alone but with those massive horns on display, and Fred was sure the guy didn’t have time to put on any kind of prosthetics. To make matters worse, he heard the man’s voice inside his head.

“Fred, Fred, Freddie, always the weakest, always humiliated, needing to learn to fight with words because no one ever taught you how to use your fists. But does it have to be this way? Let me show you another option, Freddie; if you refuse to accept it, you can walk out that door, and no one will stop you, not even Hank out there, though I think he’ll be disappointed; he seems to have taken a liking to you.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“That offends me, Freddie; I always give my clients a choice. You should know that from all the stories going around about me, most of them lies, but this one’s true. Plus, you don’t have choice.” The demon said as Fred fell into a dark abyss.

The first image he saw was of a blond kid like him talking to a strong, muscular older man.

“… Frank, you have to be strong; our land is surrounded by enemies, the Soviet Union has fallen, and independence will come, but we will always be surrounded by foes.”

… you have to be strong… be strong…

He was strong; by seventeen, he was a prodigy in various forms of combat, including Brazilian jiu-jitsu, boxing, and Krav Maga. He honored his father's request, becoming a man of few words but decisive actions.

… decisive actions… actions….

“Action will unfold at the border, and anyone who dares think it shouldn’t be taken seriously will have to deal with me.”

Lieutenant František Andel of the Czech Republic Army was known for his ruthlessness, always ready for war.

… ready for war… war…

The Russian invasion of Ukraine put all the states previously belonging to the Soviet Union on high alert, and the Czech Republic was one of the first to provide all possible humanitarian and military aid to the country. Frank was sent to ensure the delivery of projectile shipments, although under strict orders not to get involved in the conflict. What he didn’t expect was to meet Bohdan, a young man 15 years his junior, forced by circumstances to serve his country. Bohdan wasn’t like him; he was a sensitive, affectionate kid with a fantastic ass. Against everything he should have done, Frank let himself get involved, only to see the kid taken from him, which made all of Frank’s rage surface, causing him to lose his head and attack the Russians mercilessly in the midst of his despair.

… despair… despair… no mercy…

Frank looked mercilessly at the desperate face of his opponent, more than a year after Bohdan’s death, and he felt nothing—no pleasure, no anger, just a huge void that even the violent underground fights or the booze he downed every night couldn’t fill.

… booze… fill….

“What do you want?” he asked with a serious face while waiting for the owner of the dive fill hiss glass, maybe the seventh or eighth of the night, although deep down he knew that not all the booze in the world would be able to satisfy him.

“I have a job offer for you, a new beginning, new possibilities, maybe new… lover.” The man said with a smile.

The flood of information was so overwhelming that Fred could barely move. Still, with all the effort in the world, he turned and bolted for the door. Only to hear the demon’s voice whisper in his ear. “Unfortunately for you, Fred, my deal was made with Jamie; you were never my client.” Then with a single step, that torrent of information flooded his mind once more, with many more scenes and memories, as his body expanded, muscles piling on, covered by the black security uniform, and his young face aged a decade and a half until it became a tribute to rugged masculinity, and František found himself in front of his boss back inside the club.

“Called for me, boss?”

“Yes, Frank, Poncho came to talk to me about your relationship with his nephew. As antiquated as it may be, he wants to know what your intentions are with the kid. And since the man has been with me for centuries, I can’t ignore his concerns.”

“He doesn’t need to worry, boss; I have the best intentions for his nephew.”

“As the saying goes, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t believe in hell. Hell is in our heads, and I’ve already lived mine, and I won’t miss the chance to find happiness before another hell comes.”

“How can you say you don’t believe in hell while working here, working for me?”

“Honestly, sir, if this is hell and you really are the devil, which I don’t think you are, I wouldn’t mind spending eternity here!”

“You flatter me, Frank! Now go find Poncho and calm his heart before you replace Hank; he’s itching for some fun.”

Frank walked through the club with all the confidence of someone who knew a single word from him could end any trouble, although deep down he longed for the chance for a good fight.

When he arrived at the bar, he didn’t find Poncho, but standing at the door leading to a secret room was Javier, looking at him with a seductive gaze.

“Did I do something wrong, Papi, for you to ignore me like this?”

“I’m not ignoring you, kid; I just had to sort out an urgent issue, and besides, your uncle was around. He was complaining to the boss, so I need to find him to talk about my intentions with you.”

“And what intentions are those, Papi?”

“The most serious ones possible, Javi.”

“How boring, Papi, because right now all I wanna do is have some fun.” The younger guy said, turning and swaying his hips seductively into the room, and Frank couldn’t resist following him inside with a smile on his face.

The two were wrapped up after some wild sex in the mirrored room overlooking the dance floor and stage of the club that the boss liked to use sometimes to feel like everyone was watching him while he pulled off the most unimaginable acts of depravity, although those on the other side couldn’t actually see anything through the glass.

“We need to go; our break is almost over, and I still haven’t talked to your uncle.” Frank said, getting up and pulling the smaller man close.

“Just one more kiss, Papi!” Javier said, attacking the bigger man with a passionate kiss until they were interrupted.

“I thought you were going to talk to Poncho, Frank. Instead, you came to deflower his nephew.” The boss commented, smiling, accompanied by the Italian porn star who was one of his regular partners.

“Sorry, boss, I didn’t find Poncho, so…”

“… so you decided to use my room to satisfy your carnal needs.”

“Sorry, sir, it won’t happen again.”

“Certainly not, because next time I’ll be joining you.” The man said, grinning. “Now go; Hank is gonna lose the little hair he has left if you don’t replace him soon. But Javi stays; Marco and I are gonna play a little. I hope there’s no problem with that.”

“No, sir, Javi can play with whoever he wants, as long as he knows the serious stuff is only with me. But I gotta say, after the speech you made about me needing to talk to Poncho…”

“Ahhh, hypocrisy is one of the perks of being the devil, my dear.” The boss replied with a mischievous smile.

….

“I see you didn’t waste any time.” Frank commented as he saw Hank approaching, wearing shorts and loafers instead of the uniform pants and boots.

“I gotta be quick before all the good ones are taken. You already put your paws on Poncho’s nephew, and I’m not crazy enough to try anything with the boss’s Italian. Though maybe I shouldn’t worry too much.”

“Why not?”

“Take a look at who’s coming over there.” Hank said, nodding toward a group of three young guys who were smiling as they walked toward them at the front of the line.

“Jerome’s group?” Frank asked.

“Jerome’s group.” Hank replied, grinning. “Hope you manage to catch at least some of the fun.”

“Oh, I’ll find a way. I’ll see you inside.” He replied before strutting confidently toward the boys.

“Hey, fellas, what do you want here?” he asked, feeling a sense of déjà vu.

“Good night, sir! Jerome told us to go straight to the bouncer at the main door and said that he hopes… that he hopes you… you have a… a hell of a night.” One of the braver kids said, or maybe just the most daring.

“Jerome, huh? IDs?”

“Here you go, sir.” One of them said, handing over the IDs he knew were fake, though he still made a point to scrutinize them with a serious look, just to intimidate the boys a little.

“Any problem, sir?”

“Nope, on the contrary, looks like you guys got VIP passes. Jerome must’ve liked you a lot.” He said while fiddling with a walkie-talkie before speaking again. “Jerome’s group is on the way.” He radioed before handing the IDs back to the kids and cracking a smile.

“Boys, looks like we’re all in for a hell of a night!”

[ladykailitha]

The Hellfire Exotic Club Part 5

Hello! I'm really love the response to this story. Thank you everyone who commented or tagged.

In this part we get to meet Ellie their costume designer, and Steve proves why he's there.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4

~

Steve was doing his warm ups when Chrissy came up to him.

“Hey,” she said. “We finally got our costume designer in at the same time as you. So you need to go to the dressing room and get measured.”

He nodded and went back to the dressing room. It was a long room packed with vanities, costumes, and props. It was where everyone got dressed. Man and woman alike. Eddie’s club was making good money, but it was just easier to just have everyone in the same room. Plus, it wasn’t like everyone hadn’t seen everyone else’s bits. After all, nakedness was part of the job.

The only one who had his own dressing room was Eddie. And that was because it doubled as his office. It had all his costumes, his guitars, but also his desk and filing cabinets. It had a long green, leather sofa two big fluffy armchairs across from his desk chair.

Standing at the end of the of the room in front of the rows and rows of clothing racks where all the costumes were kept was a woman in her early twenties with curly, brown hair and slim figure. Her back was to him so he couldn’t see her face. But he liked her style. It was funky and eclectic and Steve instantly loved it.

“Hey,” he called out gently. “I’m here to measured and hopefully not be found wanting.”

She turned around with a giggle. “And would you be William or Count Adhemar in this situation?”

Steve laughed. “My hope is to always be the hero, especially in my own story. And do I call you Kate or something else?”

“Ellie will do just fine,” she said with a smile. “So you’re the new Envy. You aren’t what I was expecting, if I’m honest.”

“No?” he said as he finished walking the rest of the way to her. “I’m not sure what you were told about me, so...”

Again Ellie giggled. “Well judging from the way Eddie and Chrissy talk about you I was expecting someone taller at the very least. You are conventionally attractive, but I guess I was thinking more Chris Hemsworth then Chris Pine, if I’m honest.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment then,” he said. “Personally I prefer Pine over all the other Chrises. He’s got a ‘fuck you I do what I want’ style I like.”

“Me too,” she said with a soft knowing smile. “So let’s get those measurements and then afterwards we can talk about what you want out of your costumes. I understand you and Chrissy are going to be Hansel and Gretel for the Fairy Tale Night, is that right?”

Steve nodded. “I think that Eddie just wants to see me in lederhosen.” He paused for a second. “My best friend, Robin, too, now that I think about it.”

She laughed out loud for the first time and Steve decided she should laugh more. It was cute. “Well, aren’t they going to be disappointed. It’s meant to be sexy, not ridiculous.”

He smiled back at her. Yeah, they were going to along just fine. Ellie went through measuring him, quickly and efficiently. Steve was impressed by her professionalism and she was impressed by his ability to take direction and to hold still when told.

Once they were done Ellie sat him down and she pulled out a sketch book. She showed him the designs for the Hansel outfit. It had a lot of layers so that as they went through the forest more clothes would come off. Lamia would be the witch and Eddie’s Lucifer would rescue them. It was all very hot and Steve couldn’t wait to preform it.

“I love it,” he told Ellie. “Can we make the costumes brown on the outside and get lighter and lighter until the bottom layer is white?”

Ellie tapped her pencil to her lips. “What if we started off with black and worked our way through grey to white?”

Steve resisted the urge to sigh. It was Eddie wish to be everything black or red for their costumes and it looked the costume designer felt the same. “How about red?”

Ellie’s eyes lit up. “That could work!” And she pulled out her colored pencils and got to work coloring the different layers. Once she was done, she looked up at him and he grinned back.

“Perfect,” he said. “Now let me tell you what I’m going to need from my costume and you can help me figure out what it should look like.”

She nodded and listened to his wants and needs, jotting down notes and sketching out ideas as he talked.

“I might not take it all off every time,” Steve admitted, scratching his cheek nervously. “But I want the option there if at all possible.”

Ellie did a couple more sketches and showed them to him. He took the sketch book from her as he examined the different designs. He pointed to the one on the left. “Add some of the flare from the second one and I think you’ve got it.”

She added the flourishes from the one costume to the other and then showed Steve. He nodded.

“All right,” she said standing up, “I’ll be by in a couple of weeks with your costume for a fitting and see if there’s any tweaks to finalize. I’ve also taken your current costume and will have it sent over on Sunday so that you are able to dance easier.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “That would be fantastic. I’ll be glad to be able to do my job without sacrificing a gallon of blood every night.”

Steve walked her out and said goodbye. Then he got back to warm ups and practice. He was about done with his first solo routine when one of the dancers came up to him.

“Why are you so special that Ellie came to you?” the young man bit out. “Everyone else had to go to her shop to get measured.”

Steve looked up at him with a frown. “You’re Leviathan, right?” The guy nodded. “I’m busy during the day and on my nights off. And when I was free, she was busy. She offered to come to me during practice, man, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

“Why you’re getting such preferential treatment?” Levi huffed. “Boss wouldn’t let us backup dancers even try out for Envy even though we should have been given the chance first. We’ve been here longer and deserve a crack at making real money. But no... you come in here with your stupid little heaven song and your stupid little angel dances and now you’re getting Ellie to come to you? It’s bullshit!”

Steve just put his hands up in the air. “You’re acting like I’m some evil mastermind designed to fuck up your life, but the truth is it sounds life your beef is with Eddie not me. I’m not the one who set up tryouts. I’m not the one that called Ellie to come get my measurements. I’m not the one that suggested the angel theme, all I did was pick a song that would get me noticed. Eddie is the one who did all those things. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to warm up.”

Levi snarled and turned on his heel, stomping away. Or as much stomping as one could when you’d spent your life learning to land as softly as possible.

Steve rolled his shoulders. He was used to people blaming him because he was rich and popular and good looking and could fucking dance. They couldn’t get over the fact that he had these natural talents; things he was born with that he didn’t chose. But it was always his fault anyway.

Chrissy came back from wherever she had gone during his session with Ellie, with a big smile. “You ready to back into this?” she asked cheerfully.

“Ready when you are!”

~

To say Eddie was pissed would be an understatement. He had just gotten off the phone with some Bible thumping street preacher demanding that they shutter their doors and repent to come to God.

When Eddie told him that he didn’t believe in God and even if he had, he’d rather go to Hell, the preacher started screaming obscenities about how he was going to expose the club for what it was, a den of iniquity and was going to get it closed down.

Then Stella came in and was up his ass about the angel dances again. He told her that when she brought in as much money as Steve and Chrissy did during those dances then he would listen to her.

“Mark my words, Eddie,” Stella hissed. “He’s going to be the ruin of the club and when it all comes crashing down, I’m going to still be here so I can tell you to your face, ‘I told you so’.”

Then she stormed out. Eddie followed her because he honestly thought she would start going on a rampage in the dressing room, tearing shit up.

Which meant he got a front row seat to Levi trying bully Steve. Not that it worked, Steve returned better than he got, but it was the fact that one of his people had tried. It wasn’t the first time Eddie heard the rumblings from the backup dancers about not getting a chance to audition for Envy and it probably wouldn’t the last. But he wasn’t going to let someone bully someone he had handpicked.

He walked up to the stage whistled long and loud. Steve was the last to stop and look at him, finishing the turn he was doing. He blushed when he realized everyone was waiting for him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie said. “I get wanting to complete a spin instead of abruptly stopping and risking a fall.”

Steve nodded, still feeling the heat of embarrassment on the back of his neck after the sting of Levi’s words still rang in his head.

“I’ve been getting and hearing a lot of complaints about how I run things lately,” Eddie began.

The assembled dancers began to shift uncomfortably. “Especially from the backup dancers about the auditions to replace Envy. You all think you’re better than Stevie here,” he continued. “So put your money where your mouth is. All eight of you will dance Billy’s version of the tease. And you don’t want to, you know where the fucking door is. Don’t let it hit you on the way out.”

There was a gasp and then deadly silence. “If any of you are as good as he is, I’ll concede the point and we’ll discuss the details after. But here’s the thing, my little demons. You aren’t as good as he is. He learned his dance in three days.”

There were some sharp grumbling at that but a single glare from Eddie silenced them again.

“Jeff, Brian, and Gareth will be the judges because clearly you don’t trust me and Chrissy’s judgment. They will score you on hitting all the moves. On style. And finally on how sexy it was. Then after you’ve all danced and I’m proven right, you’ll have two options,” he bit out, holding up two fingers. “Shut up and dance. Or get the fuck out of my club. Because I think you assholes forgot who’s name is on the deed. Not you. Not Wayne. Not anyone but me.”

The rest of the demons glared at the two main culprits: Levi and Danny. Levi sneered and Danny was nonplussed.

“Come on, Leviathan,” Eddie snarled back. “You think you’re such a big shot. Go on, prove it.”

Levi got into position to dance.

Chrissy hurried over to the music and turned on “Devil Inside”. Steve didn’t want to toot his own horn, but he could see why Billy was only as good as the pole he was dancing on. It was loud and outrageous but no technique or style. It was all sex and no substance.

When he was done Eddie called out all the other dancers. Choronzon, Belial, Beelzebub, Astraroth, Stolas, Mephistopheles, and then finally Dagon. Danny was a good dancer, particularly on the pole. But again, there was no style or substance to the tease.

When her dance ended, Steve raised his hand. “Can I try?”

All heads snapped his direction.

“What now?” Cheryl asked. “You dance it every Sunday.”

Steve shook his head. “What you guys just danced is not what I do on Sundays. Chrissy modified it on the fly because I’m not built the way Billy was.”

There was some murmuring but Chrissy confirmed he doesn’t do Billy’s dance. Parts of it, yes. But there was no way Steve could dance it well enough in time.

“But you just watched it,” Stella said. “There is no way you can do replicate that!”

Steve shrugged. “I watched it eight times. It has a lot of beats of what I do, but in a slightly different order. I should get a chance to do it. It’s my reputation on the line, isn’t it?”

No one could refute that so Steve got into position and everyone’s jaw dropped. Including Eddie and Chrissy. Steve started his dance on stool but Billy started front and center. And that’s where he stood.

Scott smirked as the music started. It was Chrissy and him who helped Steve nail it down in three days.

The difference was staggering. Eddie’s jaw remained on the floor for the duration of of the tease. As did almost everyone else’s. Only Stella and Scott were unmoved. Scott because he knew how good Steve was and Stella because she was being forced to eat crow.

The song ended and the room erupted in cheers and whistles. Steve lifted his head and winked.

Jeff threw his notes in the air behind him. “I don’t fucking need these. Steve’s was sexier, smoother, and nearly technically perfect.”

Gareth crossed his arms over his chest. “I agree. All of the backup dancers did the routine. But none of them were Envy.”

“I’m asexual and even I could tell Steve’s was sexier,” Brian said. “And it’s because he connected to his audience. Me, Gare, and Jeff. He played to us not at us.”

Eddie raised his arm to the stage. “Satan everyone!” He jutted his thumb behind him. “Take it or leave it!”

No one moved an inch. “Then shut up and dance!” He turned on his heel and stormed back to his office.

Chrissy clapped her hands. “All righty! Everyone back on the starting line!”

Everyone scrambled to get back into position. Chrissy and Scott shared a smirk as Levi and Danny stood a little straighter.

Point well and truly made.

~

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