#man do you ever think about how those nights must have been when they fucked??

[grimsonandclover]

The diner booth is comfortable enough, the red vinyl cracking and exposing veins of yellow foam that have probably soaked years of spilled drinks and dripped sauce into them. You think about it every time you sit on them.

"What," Patrick clears his throat, adjusting himself in the seat opposite you as his eyes glance at fingers that play with a simple gold pendant around your neck, "Do you want to order anything?"

The menu is the same it always has been. Shrimp cocktail nobody ever has or ever should order, cheeseburgers that could send you into a coma, mozerella sticks and onion rings that taste like hollow dough. The food is lackluster but that's never why you came here, not for those. No, Patrick and you would always order-

"Just fries."

He swallows thickly. Patrick always asks, or always did, more out of habit than necessity. It was always a basket of fries split between the two of you here. The only thing that has felt normal to him in a lifetime. Those are the first words you've spoken to him since you'd told him to leave.

How many words ago was that? How many basket of fries lost since? Immesurable.

They're eaten in silence, which had never happened before. Years before, the meal would be filled with chatter and laughter, drama and gossip, bickering and jabs. No smart remarks were launched from one end of the veneered table to the other, no side-long glances or words of praise or scorn. Just the shuffling behind the diner counter as Marta wipes the laminate down and Billy finishes the night's dwindling orders in the kitchen behind. Forks scrape against ceramic, cups clank, someone coughs. Neither of you speak.

Patrick clears his throat for a second time. Looking over through the window beside you, one that faces the snowy parking lot, he asks you a silent question.

"Let's go to mine." You answer, knowing you're sparing him the shame of explaining his situtation if you offered his.

He's sat on your couch while you're on the floor, your head leaning back against the cushion while he crosses his arms across and Patrick props his feet up on your coffee table.

"Fuck, just... I don't know, say something."

You can tell the quiet is stressing him out, it always has. Quiet was either filled with judgement and strain, or it was filled with his ramblings. It never just existed. "Don't know what to say." It's the truth, you don't.

"Well, then... how are you doing?"

You shrug. He's still your Facebook friend, and you know he checks it. According to that, you're thriving.

"Jesus, man..."

Thirteen years has put distance between you, so much so that the invisible string tying you two together must look worn and frayed. It's been hard for you lately, a fact not broadcasted on your Facebook (where the only thing posted there now are updates you'd care for extended family to see). Patrick can see it, though. He saw it the moment he saw you on the court.

Your knuckles are red and scraped like your knees, creases now appear at the corner of your eyes and mouth when you talk and smile or frown, new and old scars litter your shoulder and chest. When you were eleven, the two of you were running in his backyard and you cut yourself on the shin with a jutting out bit of rock on a nearby fountain you'd circled, threatening Patrick that you'd jump in and through it to catch him. He can still see that scar now, skin bare as you sit in your same tennis shorts and tank.

Patrick could smell your sweat and perfume, and feel your hair tickle his thigh, and breathe your air, and see you, but he couldn't hear you. A pack of Camel Blues is pulled from his pocket. Same ones he's always smoked.

You'd scold him for smoking in your apartment, but that's too many words you'd care to spare him. At least the balcony doors are open.

He pulls two out, placing them both between his lips and grabbing the lighter you're suddenly handing him, your empty fingers now given one of the two lit cigarettes. A habit picked up as kids.

The cigarettes dwindle in your novelty ashtray, and now Patrick stands at your front door, pulling a threadbare coat over tired, cold muscle. Your fault for not turning on the heat. You think the years did him good. A part of you hopes they have, one that's lied dormant since it all ended. That part of you is old and sleepy, quiet as it's awoken, but you can still hear it. You really hope he's alright. The stubble looks alright.

He's looking down at his shoes, then yours, then to the golden pendant that he gave you exactly thirteen years ago, then to you.

"You've spoken exactly eleven words to me." Patrick can't look you in the eye, a weak smile on the corner of his mouth as his gaze darts down again. "Almost one for every year."

You hesitate for a moment before you reach up and behind your neck. You almost don't.

Grabbing his hand and pulling his fingers apart, the only contact you've made with him, you can feel the same callouses on warm, distantly familiar skin. His nails are in the same sorry state they've always been, bitten down and beaten for a good thirty-one years. He's confused by what you're doing, and then you're making his heart stop, head spin. When he looks into his palm, he sees the gift.

"Goodbye, Patrick."

[simonbrain]

getting the biggest, scariest bastard at the pub in your bed must have been one of your greatest achievements, especially after watching the way he turned down a few girls prior to you.

he glanced at you each time, disregarding the way the poor things scuttled off in embarrassment; their confidence dampened. it's like he was preening under your attention, and even underneath that silly balaclava of his, you picked up on the way he seemed to flush. his shoulders became more square, and his chest seemed to puff out more. the air around him became more charged with his cockiness rather than the pointless attempts at hiding himself from the other patrons. surely he's aware that he's the centre of the room, no matter which one.

he only grew more bold until he was right at your side, and you held his gaze the entire time.

now, he rewards you with the greatest dicking-down of your life, his fat cock stretching you impossibly thin, the thick girth bullying its way into you over and over again. he fucks you like a man starved, touches you as if he's trying to sink his hands beneath your soft skin and stroke your bones.

although nothing could have prepared you for how fucking filthy his mouth is. his voice holds the right amount of grittiness, the kind that makes your eyes roll back as he whispers the nastiest things in your ear, his accent adding to the thrill his words send down your spine. each moan that fell from his mouth, each promise of ruining you for anyone else after him, each pet name he called you had you going brainless on his cock, your sensitive bundle of nerves twitching under the pads of his fingers as he follows through with his promise. maybe if you were any more lucid, you might have realised it sounded more like a threat rather than just plain dirty talk.

the next morning, you woke up to an aching body, a bottle of water and a box of tylenol on your bedside table, and no stranger in your bed. this may be the greatest one-night stand you've ever had.

well, it was until you realised a couple of weeks later that you're still getting off to the image of him blanketing you and that damn voice of his purring low in your ear. your fingers circle your clit, your eyes unfocused as you imagine him on top of you, taking you deep right where he belongs, and when you think about how he growled at you to soak his cock like a good girl, you come all over your fingers with a humiliatingly loud whine.

it only gets worse from there. you can no longer come to porn unless the person in the video resembles the big boy who rearranged your guts, and even that is a feat of its own. you can't find anyone who has similar tattoos, similar scars, or even a similar voice. reading smut can only get you so far, and some nights, you go to bed feeling defeated because you just couldn't orgasm.

you get so desperate you start searching for those dirty little audios people post online, and for a while, you manage to make yourself come (maybe not as hard, but at this point, you'll take anything). the voices that rumble through your headphones aren't as husky as your mystery man, and their accents aren't exactly close to his, but it holds you off... until it doesn't. and now you're desperate to find him again, but he's probably long gone now.

you can't believe it; the fucker really did ruin you.

it's not until a few months later that you hear that familiar voice again, and your knees almost give out in the middle of the damn store.

(they actually do when simon, he tells you through hungry kisses, bends you in half in the dreadful alleyway, your poor cunt taking each brutal fill of that cock you've been craving so badly.

"she's fuckin' squeezin' me, sweet'art. missed me tha' much?" he chuckles hoarsely in your ear, and you would have fallen over if not for his firm hold keeping you upright.

yep, he can fuck right off again. you'll get your lick back. just as soon as your legs stop shaking and you're not seeing double.)

[yeyinde]

(sighs dreamily) i loooove the way you write fucked up and gross simon. the size kink and somno drabbles have been living rent free in my mind for almost two weeks now. the recent stalker piece was also so deliciously terrifying, i actually had a dream/nightmare today that was a mixture of stalker!ghost and not-dog!soap 😭

are you planning on writing any more for either of those?

ahhh thank you!!!! this had me wondering how i could maybe blend the two and this happened.

stalking. HEAVILY implied noncon somno. size difference.

Simon decides your dog, your baby, needs a man in the house. and since you like to call yourself his 'mama,’ then it’s only right that he becomes the daddy both of you need.

Your dog does not like strangers.

He's a rescue and the sort of life he lived until now, until you, is mostly a mystery. You found him on a rainy day, panting under your awning - a gnarled mess of matted fur glued to bone. Too skinny to survive another winter. You took him in right away and gained his trust. His love. But whatever he had left to spare (lots, it seems) is strictly reserved for you. Everyone else is a threat, a worry. Even the vets he's known since you found him all those years ago still get the same wary glances, the same growls then they lean in too close to whisper something in your ear.

He's just—special. The sweetest thing ever when it's just you. Your baby. People joke—slightly nervous—that he treats you like his mother. Following you closely with his big, glossy eyes tilted up to stare at you. Loving. Cuddly. Rests his big head on your lap at night with a great, big sigh. Tired from a long, hard day of protecting his house from squirrels and the stray delivery driver.

But when it comes to others—anyone, really—he’s aggressive. Territorial. All the vets and trainers say that it's his breed. That he just needs to be trained. Exposure therapy. Behavioural. And it works for all of two weeks before he's back to his stubborn self. Snapping at anyone who gets too close to you.

You post warnings on your fence. Your front door. Take precautions when you walk him. Warn anyone who gets close that he doesn't like anyone. Full stop. No exceptions. And it works. Helps ease the stress. He still goes to therapy. To training lessons. But he's smart enough to trick them into thinking he's learning.

And it's fine. People can't get too close to you. To his house. His territory.

Or so you thought.

But he's been acting strange lately.

You caught him barking at something through the fence a few months ago; spittle flying from his muzzle as his lips peeled back, snarling and vicious. If the fence wasn't reinforced, you think he would have broken it down to get at whatever was behind it.

It continued like this for a few days. Each time you went to check and see what was there, all you find is littered cigarettes. The teenage son of your neighbour, you think. He likes to hide in the dense woods so his parents can't find him. You'll talk to him about it later. Ask if he can do it a little further away from the fence so he isn’t disturbing Baby. 

As the days grow, his growls and snarls diminish before stopping outright. In the interim, your unease grows.

It's small—at first. 

He wants to be outside more. Always whining at the back door, scratching at it with his paw. When you let him out, he runs right to that spot by the fence. Sits down, and just stares. When you go out to look, there's nothing there. Just a dark, sprawling coppice. Cigarettes on the ground. But something catches his attention. Keeps it. Holds it.

He leads you to that spot sometimes, too. Nudges you with his big, furry head to your thighs. Shepherding you to the fence, and then sits back, clearly preening. Proud.

"You're mama’s silly boy, aren't you?" you coo, scratching his ears. It must be the neighbour. Maybe a stray deer wandered by. You catch a flash through the tree line. Twin puddles of black peering through the tangled weeds. Your dog perks up, looking towards it. A deer, you think. A stray buck. You huff, patting his head. "Made a new friend, huh?"

But you can't shake the feeling that something else is out there. That something is staring at you.

Nothing, you tell yourself, fighting off a shiver. It's fine. Fine. He sneaks off at night sometimes. You hear him playing in the hallway. Wandering around the house. The tack-tack-tack of his nails against the hardwood as he walks back to your bedroom lulls you back to sleep. You feel the bed dip. Something warm against your back. You sigh, melting into the sheets—

There's nothing to worry about.

He'll protect you.

But the next morning, you find him locked outside. The patio door shut. The deck is dried from the sun, but his fur is wet. It rained last night. You drifted in and out to the patter of it on your window. The soothing weight of his body curling around you—

He must have gotten out in the morning. Rolled around in the grass. But when you put him in the tub later to scrub the rainwater off of his cost, his belly is dry.

It's nothing. He was in bed with you last night. It's fine. Fine. Everything is easy to explain away as coincidence. Nothing usual. The feeling of being watched. The missing food from your fridge. The creaks of the old house at night. Things shifting around—keys missing only to turn up somewhere else. Rodents chewing through your landline. 

The panties you shed, tossing into a corner before getting into the shower going missing—

They’re just—lost in the wash. You must have thrown the leftover food away when you cleaned earlier and forgot. The lingering scent of cigarettes. Smoke in your bed. The cloying scent of loam, humus. Fresh dirt. The stains on your bed. The strange smear in the gusset of your panties when you peel them apart.

Something thick, firm between your thighs—

Fine. You tell yourself. Everything is fine. At best, it's a gas leak. At worst—well.

Baby will protect you. 

Always. 

But the next day, he brings his favourite toy to the back door, asking to be let out, and this isn't—

It's not normal.

He's possessive over his toys. Keeps them on his daybed and refuses to let anyone touch them. Only you. He doesn't bring the. Outside, either.

But when you peer outside a few minutes later, the toy is lying by that spot near the fence. He's sitting down, tail wagging. Happy. Excited. It continues like this for the next few days. He brings his toys to the fence, coming in later, licking his lips. When you brush his teeth at night, you smell something gamey on his breath. Meaty. 

Getting out of bed a few hours later and playing in the hallway. Going to sleep with you at night, but somehow getting out in the early hours of the morning, waiting for you on the patio when you remember the huff of his breath over your neck less than an hour ago—

No. You're just—

Getting the time wrong. It's fine. He'll protect you. He doesn't like anyone but you.

You hear footsteps in the hallway at night next to the click-clack of his nails. When you jump out of bed to check, it's just him. Sitting by the back door, head craned over his shoulder when he heard you coming. His favourite toy is sitting on the ground in front of him. You fight a shiver. The feeling of eyes burning into you churns your stomach.

"I'm going crazy, sweetheart," you coo, but feel the threads of your sanity begin to snap one by one. "But you'll keep me safe, right?"

His tail wags. You pretend not to notice the gap in the patio door. Opened just a crack. You shut it, forcibly telling yourself to remember to close it next time and fight the memories of locking it before settling on the couch to watch old re-runs. You drag him back to bed, burrowing your head into his fur, listening to the thud-thud-thud of his heart in your ear. 

When you dream that night, it's of a big, scarred hand making its way between your thighs. A rasping, masculine voice in your ear commanding you to be good—

You wake up with your thighs sticky, wet. Your cunt pulsing. There's an ache there; a sting. It twinges when you move, tapering into a sore throb as you swing your legs over the side of the bed, woken up by the strange dream—fingers between your thighs, a head resting on your belly, calling you a good girl—and a noise.

A low murmur comes from the living room. You wince with the first several steps, forcing yourself to ignore the uncomfortable feeling between your thighs. The wetness that drips down your leg, some of it already dried, sticking to your skin. It’s fine. You just had a—

A wet dream.

—everything is fine. Fine. Your heart lurches. Lodges in your throat. Each beat feels like a fist against your tissue trying to break down the prison of your flesh to flee. 

You slowly inch toward the hallway, the sound, making excuses for the fear that curdles in your belly. The itch in the back of your head that calls you stupid. Demands you go back to bed. To sleep. You’ll wake up in the morning to Baby slobbering over your chest, drooling as the time ticks away in a slow crawl towards his usual breakfast. 

It’s tempting. The sleep congealing in the corners of your eyes, weighing heavy—molasses-thick—over your sense of awareness: cobwebbed in that strange, uncanny realm of sleep and wakefulness; hypnagogia turning shadows on the walls into human shapes. The whisper of wind into the brassy drawl of a voice. 

Through it all, the prickle rears. Says something isn't right. Hasn't been right for a while now. It's fine. Everything is—

It doesn't make sense at first. Your brain tries to wrap around the images your eyes feed it. Untangling the dizzying sense of confusion that runs along your hindbrain like a jagged knife; grazing tissue, scraping over nerves. The picture comes together quickly. There's no misinterpreting the shapes.

A man is lounging on your couch. Legs kicked up on the coffee table, ankles crossed. The remote is held in one hand as he lazily flicks through the channels on your television screen. The picture of ease. So relaxed, so comfortable in your space, that you begin to feel a little bit like an intruder. A voyeur peering between the curtains.

This feeling is reinforced when you peel your eyes away from the horrifying mask on the man's face—a black balaclava—and find your dog lounging beside him. Resting with his head over this stranger's thick thighs. His head perks up when you approach, tail wagging, but he doesn't get up from his spot. Content to bask in the half-hearted attention the man doles, a hand buried in his fur. Dragging over his ears. Down his back. Monotonous flicks of his thick wrist, nearly the same width as the barrel of a baseball bat.

And that just trembles down your spine in the worst way.

He's the same height as you are sitting down. Takes up two cushions on the couch with his absurd bulk. Massive, you think. And then it all rushes through you. The knife slips into your cognisance.

There's a man in your house. Petting your dog,

your dog who tries to bite the same vet he's had for years. Who trusts, who likes, no one but you—

You make a noise. Something strangled in the back of your throat. Muffed, unable to escape through the clot of your heart getting there first. It tangles around your pericardium and is too late to take back. To swallow down. 

It doesn’t matter, though. 

The man has been watching from the beginning. 

Dark eyes (a dark, black flash between the leaves—) drill into you. Staring. That familiar, unease feeling is back again, creeping up your spine. It's been him the whole time, you know. The thing behind the fence. Must be. The same brand of cigarettes you found on the opposite side is sitting on your coffee table, right beside his feet.

His chest expands with his inhale. You smell stale smoke. Something wild. The scent of the forest after a summer's rain shower.

"Finally up, are you? Thought you were gonna sleep all day." His voice is deep. Brassy. The growling roll of an approaching thundercloud. You shiver. Jerk back, but—

Baby growls.

He's never done that before. Never barked. Never snarled. Never nipped.

But right now, his teeth peel back, muzzle wrinkling as he lifts his lips. And you know it's playful. Seen this look on his face when you throw the ball across the yard. It's just him being his silly self. He won't attack you. Won't maul you. 

The man lifts his hand and your dog limbers up. Shakes. He jumps off the couch and trots toward you. Nothing is threatening in the way he moves. It's the same lumbering gait, the same happy wag to his tail, but he moves himself around you. Stands between you and the only escape.

"Baby—?"

"Taught 'im a few tricks," the man drawls conversationally—like he wasn't a stranger in your house. "Got a good boy on your 'ands. Jus' needed a bit o'trainin'—”

He snaps his fingers and Baby moves. Bumps his head into the back of your thighs. Pushing you. Nudging you toward the man. It’s so horrifying familiar that you find yourself moving without a thought. Following along. 

"He jus' needed a man in the house, didn't he? A father figure—" 

You're going to be sick. Think you would have been already if your heart wasn't lodged tight in your throat, keeping everything down. 

The man lifts his hand. Curls his fingers. 

"C'mon, mommy," he taunts, voice a derisive roll. "Come sit on Daddy's lap. It's movie night tonight."

Baby pushes you forward happily, tail wagging, wagging—

Happier than you’ve ever seen him as this stranger reaches out, grabbing your waist and hauling you onto his lap. You think about fighting immediately, struggling to get out of his hold, but he moves back and the unmistakable, blunt press of a gun sends shivers rolling down your spine. You still instantly. Back drawing tight. Fear is a wet, hot pulse behind your ribs. 

“Don’t fight it, birdie—” You feel the warm, damp press of his mask against the shell of your ear. The ridges of his lips move beneath the fabric as he speaks. 

You hear him inhale, drawing in the scent of your shampoo—your fear: an oily thick miasma pooling behind your ears, against your nape—and feel tears pool against your lashline when a surge of familiarity wells up at the solid, firm weight of his chest against your spine. His thigh slips between yours, spreading them wide over the arch of his muscle. Limp, dizzy, you fall back into his chest when he pulls you in, slotting a burly arm over your ribcage. Locked in tight. A shackle. 

“Ain’t go’ nothin’ t’worry about,” he continues, hips shifting. Moving. And—

It’s a not gun. You know it isn’t. When you whimper, it throbs—

There’s the echo of a groan in his voice when he huffs, lips pursing into a kiss. “Nothin’ at all. C’mon, Baby—” 

And Baby obeys eagerly, jumping up on the couch beside him. His snout is warm, wet, when he presses it to your arm, sniffing. Please, you think, staring into his eyes as tears swell, pooling down your cheeks. Please—

But the man lifts his arm, and Baby circles the cushion before falling against his side with a deep, content sigh. Hope is snuffed out of your chest in an instant. The man’s hand falls to his head, rubbing his skull affectionately. 

“Good boy.” Baby perks. His happiness is a palpable thing that swells around you as he melts, eyes slipping closed. “Gonna be a good boy while mum an’ dad spend some time together, ain't you, boy?”

His arm tightens around your waist. Chin notches over your shoulder as he shifts back, legs kicking out to spread your thighs further apart.

"Now," he drawls, hand sliding down to the mess between your thighs. You shiver against him, toying with the idea of running, fleeing—but he must know. Senses it, maybe. He lifts his hips, pressing the gun into your spine. A threat. A warning. But with the way he swallows you up—broad chest closing in on you, trapping you on all sides—you know it's futile.

He has you.

Your submission makes him purr.

"Baby's sleepin', so now let daddy take care'o mommy—"

[eddiesxangel]

Show Me | Older!Eddie x F!Virgin Reader

Anonymous asked: I loved your post about Eddie x virgin!reader so much💞Do you think you could write older!Eddie x virgin reader?

Anonymous asked: Inexperienced!reader giving Eddie a handjob and a blowjob for the first time?

Cw: ten-year age gap, sex toys, female masturbation, the reader is kinda a perv (oops), Eddie is also kinda a perv (oops), reader first time giving oral, reader first time having sex, pet names.

CW: 7.1k It's long again, I'm sorry! idk how to do short

Moving trucks have been parked in your neighbour's driveway for about two days. You had always liked the Kaminskys, but they were older and now moving to a retirement community. This is the second day of moving trucks, and the new owners are moving in today. You have yet to receive much information from the realtor regarding the new neighbours, but you hope they'll be pleasant. You had already baked something to welcome them to the neighbourhood, in hopes that it could be a younger family or couple. Perhaps someone closer to your age?

You moved to this town around three years back when you received your first job offer after completing your college degree. You had saved up enough money to buy a one-bedroom house for a very affordable price. Although it required some repairs, you were happy with it because it allowed you to decorate it according to your liking. You loved the neighbourhood even if you were the only twenty-five-year-old on the block.

As you looked out from behind your front rooms curtains, you could see the movers unloading a big moving truck. There was one person among them who really caught your attention. You had never seen him before. It was a small town and you lived in a quiet suburb by the water in the south of Michigan. Everyone knew everyone, and you hadn’t seen this man before.

He appeared to be in his mind to late 30s and had a muscular build. His brown wavy hair was tied back in a low bun that connected with the five o clock shadow in his face. He was wearing a tight black ribbed tank top that showcased the tattoos covering both his arms and hands. He was hot... Way too hot not to have not ever been seen or talked about in your small lakefront town. Upon further observation, it became apparent that he was not wearing the attire of a mover.

Oh my god. He must be the new neighbour.

“Please be single, please be single, please be single,” you chanted as you hastily went to your closet in search of an outfit that looked cute so that you could introduce yourself.

You took your time getting ready; he obviously needed time to unload, and you didn’t want to overwhelm him…. And whoever else might be moving in.

God, you hoped he didn’t have a wife or whatever.

You shook your head to get rid of your rambling internal thoughts. You took a deep breath and told yourself to chill the fuck out. You could do this. You’ll go over in your sweet little sundress, introduce yourself, and offer him the chocolate cake you baked…

You weren't as excited as you were last night while baking it, now you were just nervous. You imagined a sweet family moving in with a newborn - a couple your age with whom you could become really close friends. But now, you are faced with a hot and sexy bad boy neighbour who may or may not have a wife and kids. Maybe he wasn’t into women at all?! That would suck. This situation is making you feel extremely anxious and overwhelmed due to your lack of interactions with the opposite sex.

To say you haven’t had a lot of experience was an understatement. You went through high school without a boyfriend. You went through college without a boyfriend. You weren’t into drunken hookups with random strangers for your first sexual experience. You went on many first dates, but nothing ever came of those many first dates. So you waited. And waited.

You thought that maybe you would meet somebody through work and then it would happen, but you’ve been so caught up with working and renovating your house your social life has taken a step back.

Of course, you wanted to find someone. To finally be with someone in a sexual way. To give yourself wholly to someone. Nothing ever went past kissing and or being felt up. But that was the extent of your sexual experience with another person.

Your sexual experience with yourself, on the other hand, was pretty standard. You've got your toys to get by. The first time you gave yourself a real orgasm from the vibrator you bought, it changed your world. Slowly, you worked your way up to toys you could insert once you got a little braver. So technically, yes, you hadn't slept with another person, but now you were more than ready to explore and get out there. You wanted that connection with someone.

So, about half an hour after the moving truck left, you worked up the courage to walk over and knock on the front door. You gave yourself a once-over before leaving. You wore a white sundress with tiny red cherries that fell mid-thigh, your hair was pulled back with a matching red hairband, and you had a fresh, subtle makeup look.

With a deep breath, you held that cake with all your might to ensure you didn't drop it and you simply knocked on the door.

"Just a second," You heard a deep voice call out. A few long seconds later, the door opens, and you're face to face with a wet, shirtless man in just a towel. As you suspected, it was the man you saw unloading the boxes.Fucking hell, He was attractive, with a toned body covered in tattoos. Your gaze drifted to his towel hanging low on his hips. -"Oh shit, sorry, let me just uh- I'll be right back," He sputtered as he realized he was basically naked in front of a young woman, most likely his neighbour.

"Sorry, I can come back later!" to try to fight off the blood rushing to your face.

"No- no, just, uh-hang on!' You hear him yell from inside the house. He came back out wearing black sweatpants which he had cut himself to make into shorts and a plain black tee shirt.

"Hi." He smiles as he walks back onto the front porch where you stood.

"Hi, I'm sorry. I should have waited a little longer to come introduce myself." You laugh uncomfortably.

"Nah, it's okay; not every day I'm greeted by a pretty girl with a cake." He smirks.

"What? Oh yea, I uh- just wanted to welcome you and uh your...wife?"

He shakes his head no.

"Your partner?"

Another no.

"Kid?" you try one last time. And he smiles with a chuckle.

"Anyway, I baked a cake just to say welcome." You shoved the plate into his chest, almost smushing it into his shirt.

"Thank you, that's very kind."

"You're welcome. So, um, I guess I'll get going; leave you to it." You turn to walk down the steps.

"Wait! What's your name?" you wince. You're so nervous you didn't even introduce yourself.

"I'm sorry." You giggled uncomfortably.

"I'm Eddie Munson," he smiled. His smile was infectious; you smiled back and gave him your name.

"Pretty name for a pretty girl."

"Um- thanks." You shy into yourself.

"So you said you live next door?"

"Yeah, uh, I'm just over at forty-four." You motion over your shoulder to your house.

"You live there with your folks?" He cocks his head.

"No, Mr. Munson. It's all mine, mine alone." You giggle.

"You don't look old enough," he squints suspiciously.

"I would like to have you know I am twenty-five." You say proudly.

"Oh well, pardon me." He smiled. This made Eddie feel much better about being so attracted to you. God forbid you were still living at home with your parents. He would feel like a total creep.

"Anyways, I uh should get going," you point over your shoulder.

"Oh, ok, well, um, once I'm done setting up, please stop by whenever. I could use a familiar face around... being new to town and all."

"Sure thing, it was nice meeting you. Mr. Munson." you smile.

"Please call me Eddie!" He called as you walked back over to your house,

"Enjoy the cake!" You give a small wave.

"Oh, I will." Before you turn back, you watch as he takes a finger, dips it in the icing, and puts it in his mouth without breaking eye contact... you hadn't witnessed anything so sensual. You almost trip over your sandals as you scurry back into your house.

All of your interactions with Eddie over the next week were flirtatious. He managed to make your heart beat faster than any man had before.

After a week and a half, Eddie finally organized the house. His furniture was set up, and most of the moving boxes had been emptied. He would see you when you came home from work in the evenings as he sat on his porch with a cigarette.

"Hey, Eddie," You would blush,

"Hey, sweetheart" He would smile back without fail.

If anyone else were to call you that, you'd want to clock them; however, coming out of Eddie's mouth? Somehow, it made you swoon.

"Hey, um, you don't have to, but would you want to join me for dinner? Tonight? I am sure you're exhausted from unpacking, and I'm a pretty good cook... unless you hated my cake so feel free to say no.-" You rambled on.

"I'd love to join you for dinner. That's very sweet of you to offer." This was so new for Eddie. Neighbours being neighbourly. He was always the outcast in his town growing up. Now, at thirty-five, he is finally saved up enough to get out of town, start fresh, and open his own autobody shop. Have an actual house of his own, not that he wasn't grateful for his uncle and the trailer park.

Here, he could be anyone he wanted to be. He met some of the townspeople, and they seemed nice enough when he told them he would be taking over for Mr. Sanders's mechanic shop.

"Okay, great! I'm just going to get changed, I'll leave the door open; feel free to come in and make yourself at home whenever you're ready." You motioned to him and his cigarette."

"Thanks, Sunshine." He smiled that smile you couldn't overcome, and you rushed inside to find a n outfit that didn’t scream ‘I work for corporate America.’

You made your way up to your loft, which doubled as your bedroom that overlooked the living area and kitchen. You were in the middle of stripping when you heard the front door open; only then did you realize that when you told him to make himself at home, you had forgotten the minor detail that he would be able to see you changing. You scurried into your walk-in closet with a squeak so he wouldn't have dinner and a show.

"Sunshine?" He asked, walking into your home.

"I'll be down in a minute!" You yell as you scramble to find your jean shorts.

"Take your time." He walks around your home, observing your picture gallery.

"Help yourself to a beer or whatever you want in the fridge."

"Thanks."

As you walk back down your stairs, you see Eddie sitting on your couch, beer in hand. Man-spread with an arm around the top of the sofa. You wished you could be by his side, arm around you instead.

"Good, you made yourself at home."

"Well, Sweets, I am a good listener." He tilted his head back, taking a swig from the bottle. You watched his Adam's apple bob in his long throat, and you thought about what it would feel like to kiss it.

"Any dietary restrictions?" You ask, shaking yourself from your dirty thoughts.

"Nah..." He shakes his head. "So, how did you swing a place like this at your age?"

It felt like a dig; maybe he just saw you as a kid... you would change his mind on that.

"Um, well, I got it on foreclosure; you should have seen it; it was a mess, and everyone wanted to tear it down, but I had a vision. It took a few years, but it's finally finished. I had some help from my grandmother's inheritance, but it wasn't much. So I worked my ass off, and here we are" you spoke as you got together the pots and ingredients.

"Looks like you're doing well for yourself" He smiled as he watched you bend over, unintentionally showing off your cute plump ass.

"Yeah, I guess. So what do you do?" you turn and catch him staring at your behind.

"Well, I just bought the auto shop off Mr. Sander's, so if you're ever in any car trouble, I'm your guy." He smiles.

"Good to know; I know nothing when it comes to my Ruby."

"Ruby?"

"Yeah, my car, she's red, so I named her Ruby."

"That's cute; it suits you."

You don't say much after you start cooking; you are in the zone, ensuring everything is perfect.

"So, what's a girl like you do around here for fun?"

"A girl like me?"

"Yeah, young, beautiful." He takes a bite like what he said was obvious.

"Umm well... work mostly. We have block parties, it is all families around here; my friends all live in the city." You take a sip of beer to settle your nerves.

"This is really good." He motions to the plate of food in front of him.

"You know what? We are having our town's Fourth of July party on Saturday. Everyone goes, you should come! I can show you around more, introduce you to more people, and you can spread the word about your new business opening up next week."

"Yeah, I'd really like that."

After Eddie had thanked you for the meal, he stayed a few more hours; you enjoyed his company. He respectfully kissed you on the cheek goodnight, and you made your way straight up to your room with your toys because you couldn't stand it any longer.

Eddie made you feel like your body was on fire. When he would lightly graze his fingertips along your bare arm or when he would compliment you. His voice alone made your lower tummy tingle.

You pulled out your trusty rabbit that never failed you. You felt dirty, but Eddie had you so worked up you needed relief.

As you lay on your bed, you strip yourself down to nothing. You think about how Eddie’s big, strong hands would tease your body. Working yourself up in your mind. You got wetter by the second.

You imagined how his voice would sound as you imagined the filthy words that would come out of that perfectly plump mouth. That mouth you wanted all over your body.

You imagined, pictured, and played a movie of Eddie and you in your head until you got so worked up that you couldn’t take it anymore. Your clit was screaming at you to be touched. You turned on the toy, it came to life, and your body quivered with anticipation. Your body sprang to life as you slowly worked the toy around your wet hole and then plunged in the dildo. You went deeper and deeper until the little vibrator at the top of the toy hit your clit.

Your body arched up as you felt the waves of pleasure wash through your veins. You pumped the toy in and out of your wet pussy, thinking about your older neighbour. How hot he looked in nothing but that towel when you first met. How your pussy clenched at the sight of his happy trail. How his muscles formed a V travelling right to where you wanted most. You could see his bulge under the white fluffy bath towel wrapped around his waist. You thought about how good his flesh would feel against yours as he pumped his cock inside of you like how you were with your toy.

“Oh, Eddie!” You moaned, forgetting your window was open for the summer breeze you loved to feel in the night.

Your free hand travels to your breast; you tweak your sensitive nipple and moan out again. Your white transparent curtains fluttered with the wind, but you were too wrapped up in your fantasy to notice.

When Eddie got home he went straight into his new bedroom and opened his window because the evening breeze was blowing. He then got ready for bed and was reading when he heard his name. His head shot up, thinking he was hearing things. Then, he listened to another sultry moan. He took off his reading glasses and got up to investigate. His eyes shot wide open as he saw your silhouette through your curtains. He saw your the outline of your body, how your hand worked where he wanted to put his cock the most.

It was wrong, it was so wrong, but now Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off of the image in front of him. He tried walking away, and he almost did, but when he heard your sweet voice moan his name again, his feet were planted on the ground. This only confirmed that you were as attracted to him as he was to you. He had thought so tonight at dinner but now he would dare to go for it. Ask you out for real.

Your body felt like it was on fire the way the toy vibrated throughout your body. The pressure kept building and building until you were on the brink. Your body seized as your pussy clamped down on the dildo inside of you. Your eyes rolled back into your head as the waves of pleasure washed over your entirety. You caught your breath and knew that Eddie was the one you wanted to be with. He was the one; if he could make you feel this good in your fantasies, you can only imagine how it would be for real.

Eddie was nervous, even though you had confirmed, unintentionally, that you were attracted to him; it had been a while since he asked out about a girl he liked, especially when he was about to ask out one who was ten years younger.

Saturday couldn't come soon enough. You had asked Eddie as a friend, but Eddie would treat it as a date, and he would make sure you knew it was a date. You were excited to spend time with Eddie again after your dinner. It had only been four days, but the anticipation was creeping in. You were so surprised when he showed up at your door with flowers.

"Eddie, you didn't have to do this, but thank you!" you smiled as you sniffed the daisies.

"Of course I did; what kind of date would I be if I showed up empty-handed?" He smirked as he stepped into your house as you went to get a vase for your flowers.

“A date, huh?” You smirked over your shoulder.

“Yes. A date”

“Okay,” you smile as you take his hand in yours and lock up your house.

Eddie was smitten; he had you on his arm, and he felt like the king of the world. You were also smitten. Finally, you were on a date with someone who you were very interested in.

Eddie was funny and charming, and you found out he was really nerdy, but it was only much more endearing. You learned how he played guitar and was in a high school garage band that landed a few gigs at the local bar. The more you got to know him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off you as the night went on, and you enjoyed it. When he wasn't holding your hand, he was holding your waist; if he wasn't holding your waist, his arm was draped over your shoulder.

When the fireworks started, you gazed up at the sky together, wrapped up in one another warmth as the cool breeze of the lake came through. Halfway through the show, he went to kiss the top of your head but you had moved to look up at him, and you caught his lips with yours. Just like the fireworks in the sky, there were fireworks between the both of you. When you both pulled back, you could see in his eyes that he felt it, too.

You finished off the night hand in hand as he walked you home. He kissed you good night like a perfect gentleman, and you bid one another a goodnight.

You were so giddy and excited about Eddie. The more you went out, the more time you wanted to spend with him. You were finishing your third official date when you asked him to join you inside your place for a nightcap.

Things moved quickly once you settled inside. Your drinks were hardly touched. Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off you.m as you made out like a couple of horny teenagers in the couch.

Your mind was racing. Why hadn’t you told him you’re a virgin? You invited him in. He’s probably expecting sex… oh god, what if he’s turned off by the fact that you’re not experienced?

“We can slow down if you want.” he pulled away; he had sensed something was off. You became stiff and seemed like you weren't into the makeout anymore.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a bit nervous… I’m -uh just out of practice…” you shied.

“That’s okay we can take it slow.” He stroked your cheek.

“Are you sure?” You twiddled with his fingers that are resting on your thigh.

“Of course. We can go at your speed.”

“I need to tell you something.” You looked down at the floor. He nodded his head but then spoke because you weren’t looking at him.

“I’ve never… I uh. Shit. I’ve never been with anyone before.”

“What?” Eddie was dumbfounded. How? There was no way he heard you correctly.

“I’m a virgin.” You pull away, but Eddie reaches for you.

“oh wow. I wasn't expecting that... uh- but that’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” he comforts you.

“But I do want to,” you rush out. “It’s not like I’m waiting for marriage; it just hasn’t happened…”

“We will go at your pace” Eddie smiled.

“Thank you”

You shift closer to him, wanting to kiss him again, especially after being so cool with everything.

You leaned in to kiss him again, but he was hesitant.

“You sure, sunshine?”

“Yea” you sigh into his mouth.

Eddie grabs the back of your head so he can pull you in closer.

Your hand rested on his knee. As you continued to kiss him your hand bravely traveled up his thigh.

“Woah, hold on, sunshine.” He rested his hand on yours to stop moving.

Oh my gosh, this is it. He had come to his senses. He’s rejecting you.

"You sure you want to go there? Because if we keep going, I will want to do things to you, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable if you're not ready."

"I promise. I've waited so long for the right guy, and I'm ready, trust me." If he only knew about your little collection of toys upstairs.

"We don't have to go all the way tonight okay?"

"Yeah, okay." You nodded your head with anticipation. Okay, this was good. He accepted you, and he still wanted to fool around.

You returned to making out on your couch, and the heavy petting ensued. This time, Eddie didn't stop your advances as your hand travelled up his thigh to the crease of his leg and up his crotch. Your hand felt around his bulge through his jeans. There was no denying that he was turned on. The way his cock strained against the thick black fabric should have been illegal. It must have been uncomfortable for him. You just had to let it spring free.

You shifted your weight forward to get closer to him. To feel him. His thighs were thick and defined. You could also feel how hard they were. Your mind wandered to how they would feel to sit on.

Before you knew it, your body was moving before your brain could catch up. One leg draped over his, and you were mounted on Eddie's leg. His deliciously thick leg. You just did what felt right; as you sat down on Eddie, the pressure situated onto your pussy felt so delicious. Your hips started rocking back and forth, building up a rhythm.

You heard and felt Eddie moan in your mouth, and this only enticed you on to keep going, your body driven by pleasure.

"That feel good, baby?" He cooed in your ear before he started kissing down your neck.

"Mmmmhmmm." You nodded frantically, eyes shut, not daring to look at him.

"Good girl, keep going." You felt his big hands grip the top of your ass as he helped you rock your hips against his jeans. The pressure in your lower stomach was building and building; you could feel your orgasm as close.

“Fuck that’s it, use me”

Fuck, you haven't gotten off by dry-humping something in years. Not since you found your first vibrator.

"You close, baby girl?" He whispered against your lips as you kept kissing him. A muffled yes was said, and before you could continue to speak, waves of pleasure washed over your whole body. It stared from your clit and radiated up like it travelled through your bloodstream straight to your head.

Your movements slowed, and you managed to catch your breath; Eddie was still hard as a rock under his jeans, and there was no way you weren't going to help out with that.

You mimicked the way Eddie kissed your neck on Eddie. Your tongue moved the way he moved on your neck. Your hands worked in tandem with your mouth. Your fingers worked to open his jeans as you kept kissing on sucking on Eddie's long tattooed neck.

"You don't have to, Sugar," he panted, but you could hear in his tone that he was excited. He wanted this as much as you did... maybe even more.

"But I want to, Eddie." You batted your eyelashes, and you pulled away to let him see your playful pout.

You've watched enough porn and heard enough of your friend's stories to know what you're doing. Sure, the first and only time you saw a dick in real life was in your third year at uni when you tried to go down on the guy you were out with but then got scared, and he walked you home... but you got this! You're an adult woman who knows what she wants, and what she wants is right at her fingertips.

Your little pep talk in your head must have been evident on your face because Eddie started speaking again.

"You done this before?" He asks gently, not judgingly. You shake your head slightly in return.

"You want me to guide you?"

You nodded your head yes. You wanted to be good and do it right.

"Kay," He smiled.

Eddie told you how to work your hands slowly, teasingly at first, not too much but not too little. And no sudden sharp yanking movements at first... You listened, and when you were ready, you moved his boxers down, and his cock was released. It was so big, so much bigger than you thought it would be. The one you saw was a least half the size of Eddie's.

"Oh my god," You gasped.

"It's okay, sugar; he won't bite." Eddie kissed you to make you feel more comfortable. Your hand travelled back to his cock so you could grip it in your hand, not too hard, but not too gently like Eddie had said. The tip produced a bead of precum that was already leaking out, which was a good sign. Your fingers brushed over the head, and Eddie sucked in a breath.

"Did I hurt you?" you dropped his cock from your release.

"No, quite the opposite, baby."

"Oh," you giggled. You picked up where you left off, stroking his cock in your grip, teasing it and feeling it. You were surprised by how velvety the skin felt.

As you continued to make up with Eddie, cock in hand. You suddenly felt braver, and the need to have him in your mouth grew stronger. You slinked your way off the couch so you were sat in front of him on your knees, eyes and mouth level with his behemoth that he calls his cock.

“You sure, little one?" He asked, and you nodded your head with a smile. You moved before your surge of confidence broke.

You sat up a little more and moved his cock towards you, and tentatively licked the tip. You continued your kitten licks a few more times before enveloping his tip in your warm, wet mouth. You peered up at Eddie through your long lashes; he looked like he was enjoying himself, so you must have been doing something right? You swirled your tongue along the tip before dipping you're head down lower to take more of him. Eddie let out a moan, and this made you smile. Yes, you were doing something right. So you continued, lower and lower.

You'd be lying if you didn't say you've tested your gag reflex on one of the dildos you own; where is the fun in that? But now that it was a real mans cock in your mouth, you understood the hype about giving head. You genuinely liked it so far, but that's probably due to Eddie and how comfortable he makes you feel.

"You sure you've never done this before?" He managed to get out.

"uhhhhuuhhhhhh" You moned against his cock and that only jerked Eddie's hip up into you.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, that just felt really good, baby" He stroked your head before gripping the back of your hair like he was resisting to push you further down.

"Fuck baby, you're way too good at this to be a virgin."

"You calling me a Liar, Mr. Munson?" You popped off his cock and started jerking him off with your hand again.

"No, no, baby, shit, I mean, ohhh, fuck you're very good for this being your first time."

"Thank you" You put the tip back in your mouth as you sucked on it, but your hands continued to work the shaft.

Eddie didn't last much longer; he told you to take your mouth off but continue with your hands, not wanting to ruin his chance of being with you again if you tasted cum for the first time and you were disgusted. So you listened, wanting to please him; you watched as the white liquid spurted from his shaft and ran down your hands. It was warm and all you could picture was what it would look like leaking out of your pussy.

"Let me get you a towel" You got up when his cock finally stopped spazming.

You walked back over with a warm wet dishtowel, but not before you took his softening cock in your mouth to wipe up the access.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie wasn't expecting that. It was like he had awoken something inside you.

"I wanted to know what you tasted like," you surged before you handed him the towel.

"You, little minx, are going to be the death of me."

Eddie and you had been going out for two months since he moved in, and it had been a week since you gave Eddie your first blow job. It's been on your mind for the majority of the week. So when he asked you out again on a fourth date, you were very excited to see how that one would end. What more would the two of you explore?

Eddie cooked for you; he had a nice romantic dinner in his kitchen. His place was finally fully unpacked, and he gave you a grand official tour of his house afterward.

"You going to show me your bedroom?" You teased.

"You would love that, wouldn't you?" He teased back.

You headed up to his room. You walk inside, and it's pretty spacious; he has a small window off to the side that looks into your house. You stroll around the beige-carpeted floors to see if your suspicions are correct. He does, in fact, have a direct view of your bedroom.

"Ever spy on me, Mr. Munson?"

"mmmmm once or twice." He chuckles as his strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer to his body.

"Really?" You got a bit nervous; what had he seen?

"Well, a man can't help his curiosity when he hears a sweet voice moaning his name in the middle of the night."

This makes you gasp. He had to be joking! But then again, your windows are close together, and you love leaving them open...

"Don't worry, sweetheart." He turned you to face him, but you buried yourself into his chest, too embarrassed to look at him. "It's flattering.”

"Eddie" you moaned into his chest."

"I'm serious, knowing you want an old guy like me?"

"You're not even that old," you mumbled.

"Please look at me, Sunshine." He tilted your head up so he could gaze into your eyes. You tried to fight it, but you ultimately gave in.

"I'm embarrassed," You pout.

"Don't be; you don't even need to be embarrassed about your fantasies with me. Understood?"

"Okay." You shy away meekly.

“You want to tell me your fantasies? What you were thinking about when you touched yourself all alone in that bed of yours?”

“I-i-want…“

“It’s okay. I know you’re nervous, sweetheart. You can tell me.”

You paused, took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

“I want to be taken care of,” you whispered.

“And”

“I want you to be the one to do it…”

"We can definitely arrange that," he said before taking your lips. His tongue parted your lips, making its way into your mouth. He was an excellent kisser. You were getting wet just by his kisses alone.

Eddie backs you up and leads you toward the king-size bed. Your knees give out when they hit the soft mattress, and you fall back, dragging Eddie down with you.

"You gonna let me take care of you, baby?"

"Please?"

"That's my girl." He smiled into the kiss before getting up so you could shimmy back onto the bed so you could rest on the pillows.

Eddie's mouth found yours again as his hands travelled up your body, feeling every inch of your skin. You felt like your body was on fire; the heat radiating between the two of you was evident.

"Can I take this off?" He played with the hem of your sundress.

"You can do whatever you want"

"That's a big promise, little one, gotta be careful with making promises like that." he cocks his head.

"I just want you." You go to take off your dress, but Eddie stops you so he can do it himself. You came prepared; you wore the nicest bra and panty set you owned. A pink lace and satin set. It made your boobs look out of this world the way the fabric cupped you just right. Accentuating every curve.

"All this f'me?"

You didn't answer. You just needed to kiss him again; your bodies melded together as he pressed you further into the mattress. His hands cupped your breasts, moulding and kneading them, and your sensitive nipples began to perk up at his rough touch.

"You're perfect," Eddie sighed as his mouth detached from yours and moved down to your neck. Your body tingled as his soft lips explored the exposed skin.

"Eddie," you moaned out in pleasure. Your hips started to grind up onto Eddie's calf, and he knew he had you right where he wanted.

His hands moved lower, cupping your lace covered heat. His fingers felt so good above the lace that separated the two of you; you couldn't wait to see what they felt like skin to skin.

"You mind if I?"

"Yes!" you said, a little too excited. But Eddie didn't mind. He thought it was so cute the way you were eager to let him explore your body.

"You know how often I've pictured you on this bed?" You shake your head, not biting your lip.

"Oh well, I would picture you like this... no, wait. There would be much less clothing." He wraps his arms around his body to take off his shirt, and he throws it across the room; next to go were his pants. You giggled at his antics. "Much better."

You could feel his cock press against your stomach as he pounced back down onto you. He continued where he had left off, his hand exploring your clothed cunt again, circling your clit above your panties, making you let out a sweet moan. He moved his hands further up until he made his way underneath your panties.

Your hips automatically moved as Eddie's hands explored your wet folds. His free hand pressed your hip, silently telling you not to move, that he will do this for you. You no longer had to be the only one to make yourself feel good. He was here to take care of you.

His thick finger slipped past your folds and up into your tight cunt.

"Oh!" You called out as his fingers broke past the barrier. They were much bigger than you're used to; your hands could never do the same as he was doing now.

"You're ok, baby," he cooed. He worked his hands inside of you, hitting a spot you'd never located before. That made your mind go numb and all fuzzy.

Eddie pulled out of you, and you whimpered in protest but quickly understood he was only taking off your panties for you. You lifted your legs, you helped him out, and he kissed down your leg until he reached your centre.

"May I?" He asked.

"Yes." You sigh.

Eddie waisted not a moment longer. His lips attached themselves to your lower ones. You’d never felt anything like it. The way his soft mouth moved around your clit, kissing and sucking on your swollen bud. You thought I couldn’t get any better than this. Until his tongue made its way onto your body and you cried out in pleasure. Too consumed by Eddie to be embarrassed by how loud you were being.

“Eddie! Oh god, yes, fuck right there!”

“You taste so sweet, even better than I imaged.” Eddie hummed into your cunt mimicking the vibrations your so use to with your vibrating toys. You body was quivering underneath him within minutes. He was way too good at this.

“Please, I’m coming, oh god I’m cuming!” You try to catch your breath with every world but it wa s no use. Eddie didn’t let up until your body was spent.

You watched Eddie sit up, your liquids covering his chin. He smiled as he spoke.

“We are only just getting started baby”

Another whimper left your throat as he pulled down his boxers to reveal his hard cock. It bobbed as it was released from its confines and you wanted nothing more than to feel it in your mouth again.

“I know what you’re thinking, baby. But no, not tonight. I need to feel you.” He went to the nightstand and opened the drawer. You watched as he pulled out the condom from its foil wrappings. Your legs clenched in anticipation.

"I'm going to take real good care of you, Sunshine." he rolled it into himself before crawling back over your body.

"Okay, Eddie. I trust you."

Eddie's heart fluttered as you spoke. He was so honoured that you chose him to be your first. He would make you see what you had missed this whole time.

"You ready?" He asked.

"Yes, I think so." You nod.

Eddie hovered over you as he took your lips into his once more. You could taste yourself in his mouth and he slowly worked the tip along your slit collecting your natural lube so he could slip himself easily inside.

"Oh my god!' Eddie was thick, so much thicker than you were used to with your silicone boyfriend you had hidden in the drawer. Thank god you were at least used to that because you didn't know how you would have handled this otherwise.

"You're doing so well for me, Sunshine." he praised as his cock dove deeper into you. Your tight cunt felt like paradise.

You told Eddie he could start moving once you were comfortable and adjusted to his size.

You saw starts as his cock plunged in and out of you; it felt so fucking good. You couldn't keep in your pleasure. Moan after moan was music to Eddie's ears. Why had you waited this long to feel something so good?

"So good, fuck, you're so fucking tight." His strokes never let up. He kept the same tempo as his hips snapped into you. Your mouths hardly disconnect unless you need to come up for air. His hands explored under your bra as he pulled a cup down to free your nipple. He moved from your mouth down to take your breast into his mouth, curling your peaked bud just like he did your clit minutes before.

Your body was lit up again; the heat between you both was one thousand degrees. Eddie, was your everything at this moment. You didn't, nor couldn't think of anything but the pleasure he was feeding you.

"More, more, more," You chant as Eddie's cock pounds into you, filling you more than you had ever felt before.

Eddie listened and moved his hands to your clit. Sparking an electrical bolt through your entire body. Your already sensitive clit was pulsing with desire as Eddie continued to pleasure you. With each stroke of his cock and hand, your body couldn't take it anymore, and you began to convulse under him.

"Shit fuck, you're squeezing me so tight," Eddie spoke before he realized that he was making you cum undone beneath him.

"Oh, yes! Eddie!"

"That's it, such a good girl, taking me so well. God your pussy is made for me." he spoke as he still used your body for his own pleasure. He didn't take much after your cunt latched down on him like a vice that he was coming right after you. A loud grunt left his lips as he felt a wave of please come over his body. His sensitive cock spurted its hot while cum into the condom that was still inside you.

"Wow," Was all you managed to say. Your brain was mush, but it was the best way possible.

"Yeah, wow," Eddie chuckled as he rolled off of you, out of breath but feeling blissful nonetheless.

"Is it always like that?" You mindlessly asked.

"With me, baby girl? Yeah." He chuckled.

"Wow," You repeated. Your brain is still not fully back down to earth.

"You wanna be my girl Sunshine?"

This snapped you back into reality.

"What? Really?" You turn your head to look at him.

"Yeah, baby girl," He cupped your face, waiting for your answer.

"Yes, Eddie, I'll be your girl"

Part 2

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[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron

(Prologue and Chapter 1)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

⯎series masterlist⯎

Prologue

Before gold, before grams, before the gun, there was you. Back when there weren’t crosses to steal, lines to snort, cops to run from, there was you. Long summer nights on the Druthers, your mom blowing up your phone ‘cause you missed curfew again. Skipping class and riding to the beach on the back of his bike. All the way back to grade school, playing tag and pretending you were pirates. Then middle school, that kiss under the lifeguard tower, a first for both of you. In high school, the night you got back from the “character-building summer camp” you had been shipped off to and you shared your other first. When you were first together, it didn’t even hurt, but just felt like fucking finally. 

He remembers it all, taking all of his strength to keep it stuffed under the surface. The coke, the violence, the drama he creates in his wake cover you up nicely, until those nights when he’s dead asleep and there you are again, leaving. When he wakes, it all comes back to him. How he sat on the curb and watched you go, bloody and hurt from the night that was your final straw. How he showed up on your doorstep the next day, like he was five-years-old again asking if you could come outside and play. How your mother told him you were gone and wouldn’t tell him where you went.

“Honey,” she said with something like pity in her voice, “Promise me, you’ll let her go, let her be happy.”

A promise he kept, until the day you rolled back into town with no warning. Your timing could not have been worse. After the summer from hell, the summer that made him a killer, he finally felt like he was in control. It wasn’t until he saw you, the only person in the world that ever really knew him, that he realized he had no idea who he was. 

Chapter One

You clutched your phone tight, reading and rereading the message. One you used to get nearly every night but hadn’t seen in two long years.

party at cameron’s tonite !!

It was a group text, sent by the girl from your high school you bumped into in the grocery store earlier that day. You had been back on the island for all of an hour before inevitably seeing someone you knew. You tried to duck quickly into the cereal aisle, but she caught your eye before you could disappear, an action you were infamous for.

“Omg, we need to hang out soon!” She had said, before handing you her phone to put your new number in.

You smiled your fakest smile and said, “it’s a must!” You didn’t think either of you really meant it, but apparently she had.

There were eleven or twelve other numbers in the group text, none you had saved, but you assumed they were likely other people from your high school. She probably just added anyone in her contacts she could think of, not even stopping to realize she was inviting the Kook prince’s former princess to his party. Your relationship had been the stuff of legend on this island. Everyone had an opinion, you were practically a celebrity couple, and it was the biggest news on the island for months when you left, suddenly disappearing overnight. Some real shit must’ve gone down around here since then to make it such old news that this girl didn’t even think about it when adding you to this text.

Your heart pounding in your ears, you couldn’t believe it when you felt yourself typing out i’ll be there :) 

You wore your hair down, the way you always used to have it in high school. After you left, you had cut it short, wanting to shed away as much of your old life as you could, but in the last few months you’d started to let it grow back. Now it flowed down to the middle of your back, tickling the skin of your shoulders where the thin spaghetti straps of the little dress you had on left them exposed. You let the front pieces fall around your face, a sort of curtain to keep an extra layer between you and the other partygoers.

You could not believe you were here. For real this time, not in a dream as you had been every night for two years, but really here. 

As you walked down the gravel path, it all came rushing back. The smell of Rose’s garden, the distant sound of the ocean lapping against the shore, the low thud of the music echoing through the crisp evening air. How many times have you walked down this path? How many nights had you spent here, your senses filled with the glory of Tannyhill, the glory of him? And yet now it felt so heavy, the sights, sounds, smells of it all were nearly choking you. Tears welled in your eyes, but something kept your feet walking towards those grand front doors, towards him.

Four years earlier…

The glass panes of the front door are slightly blurred, only revealing the soft lighting of the grand entryway on the other side. You had crossed this threshold at least a thousand times in the ten years since your family moved to this island. Knocking felt strange, you felt so small standing here in the porch light, surrounded by moths and the thick coastal August air. An envelope, wrinkled from being opened and rifled through so many times, was clutched between your clammy hands.

A figure you couldn’t quite make out approached the door, and your heart pounded in your ears as you hoped desperately it would be him who opened the door. But it wasn’t.

“Oh, hey - I- hi, Mr. Cameron,” you stammered, ever intimidated by the island’s most powerful man.

“Y/N,” Ward nodded cordially. “It’s after 10pm.”

You smiled weakly, if you felt small before, you feel positively infantile now.

“I was just hoping I could see Rafe for like, just a second,” you pleaded, putting on your sweetest smile.

“He’s studying,” Ward said. “You can come back tomorrow. Goodnight.”

Before you could protest, the door was closed and the blurred figure retreated into the house.

Never one to give up, you stuffed the letter into the back pocket of your jeans, and stepped back from the porch, sizing up the massive house to see which rooms still had lights on. You knew the blueprint of this place by heart, checking off each family member mentally as you scanned their window for signs of life. Wheezie’s room? Dark. Sarah’s room? Dark. Rose and Ward’s room? Still lit. This would have to be a stealth mission. 

You snuck around the side of the house and looked up at the last window on your list. To your excitement, the room was still lit. You saw a long shadow pass by the curtains, and you actually jumped a little from the thrill. After spending the longest summer of your life apart from the one person you wanted to spend it with, he was actually right there, just two stories off the ground.

You traveled 800 miles today, what was a few more feet? Blocking out the better judgment ringing in the back of your mind, you picked up a few pebbles from the rocky path that leads to the backyard, and started climbing the big tree that grew right up past Rafe’s balcony. How you were gonna get from the tree to the balcony? That was five-minutes-from-now-you’s problem. You chuckled to yourself as your body naturally found each branch and knot on the tree. You used to have competitions when you were kids to see who could climb this tree the fastest, and you beat Rafe everytime. You remembered the shocked look on his face the first time he saw you scurry up the tree, you were hoping for a similar level of approving surprise once you got where you were going.

Once you reached the branch directly across from Rafe’s balcony, you pulled one of the pebbles from your pocket and chucked it at his window as hard as you could. 

“Shit,” you whisper-yelled as the throw fell short and the pebble dropped, loudly knocking into the first floor window below. You couldn’t afford another noise-causing miss, so you recalculated the throw and bit your lip as you lobbed the next pebble hard. It smacked into Rafe’s window with a loud TINK and you smiled in satisfaction. You waited a moment, then two, and still nothing. The shadowy figure did not return to the curtain. You only had one pebble left, and you had never been good at climbing back down this tree. Remembering the time you fell out of it onto the waiting Rafe below, and you both ended up needing stitches, your stomach twisted in fear. You took in a deep breath and held it, letting the last pebble fly. Another sharp TINK, and a moment of baited breath later, the tall shadow finally returned to the window.

Rafe opened the curtains harshly and you immediately broke into a wild smile. He looked so cute in his fitted gray t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, his normally gelled back her falling in messy pieces around his face. You held back a giggle, delighted by the completely confused look on his face as he searched out the window for the cause of the sound. He lifted the window open and examined the two pebbles that had fallen on the windowsill. 

You took the opportunity to whisper a loud “psssst.” His face shot up in surprise and his eyes finally found you in the tree, just a few feet off of the balcony. Where you expected to see surprised delight on his face, you instead caught something cold and irritated.

“Y/N,” he whisper-called to you. “What are you doing?”

“I just got back, I wanted to see you!” You called to him, hoping his apparent anger was just in response to his own shock.

“I’m busy.” Rafe went to close the window and you felt your moment of opportunity slip away.

“Wait!” you stopped him. “Please don’t make me climb down. We both know it won’t end well.” You smiled a sweetly shy smile you hoped would melt his icy demeanor a bit.  

He sighed and looked at you annoyed for a moment before climbing out the window, his height requiring him to duck low in order to make it through. He had grown even taller over the summer, he must have hit 6 foot by now, maybe more. Your stomach flipped as you watched his athletic frame emerge from his bedroom, now able to see how defined his arms looked in the moonlight. You’d always thought he was a cute boy, but the way he looked right now lit a fire in your belly. Then you realized what it was - while you were gone, the cute boy-next-door had become a man.

“Just reach over,” he directed you.

“I don’t think I can without falling,” you explained. “I think I’m gonna have to jump.”

“Are you stupid?” He scoffed humorlessly.

Your heart sank, the boy you left behind three months ago never would have called you stupid.

“It’ll be fine, you just have to catch me,” you explained.

He rolled his eyes and opened his arms, reaching them over the bannister of the balcony, “fine.”

The brief moment of joy you got from his submission faded fast as you made the mistake of looking down at the gap between the tree and the balcony.

“Actually…” you said, bravery fading.

“What, are you scared?” Rafe taunted.

“No!” you insisted. You smiled at him, suddenly feeling like the two of you were ten again and he was daring you to jump off the trampoline into the pool in your backyard.

Now or never. With a deep breath and a sharp yelp, you threw yourself out of the tree and towards his waiting arms on the balcony. As promised, he caught you, and pulled you quickly over the bannister. His arms wrapped around your waist, yours around his shoulders, he held you there just a few inches off the ground.

You flattened your hands against the taut muscles of his shoulders, delighting in the strong warmth of them. But before you could fully revel in the feeling of being in his arms, he released his grip on your waist and you dropped the final few inches to the ground. Rafe quickly stepped back, breaking the lock your arms had around his neck. Despite the southern summer heat, the air between you suddenly felt ice cold.

“Rafe,” you whispered, stepping towards him, but he only pulled further away.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said without even looking at you.

Rafe started back towards his window, and something gave you the feeling he was not going to invite you to follow him through it.

“I need to talk to you,” you started to explain.

Rafe whipped around to face you, the way he towered over you at his new height sending goosebumps down your spine.

“Why don’t you go talk to your new boyfriend instead?” He snapped.

You were so stunned that you let out a little laugh, which only made his furrowed brow scrunch even more in anger.

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

“I saw the pictures your camp was posting on their website all summer. I saw you wrapped around that douchebag.”

It took a moment of confused silence for you to realize what he was talking about, when it finally dawned on you, you laughed again. He turned from you and started heading towards the window again, but you caught his arm, your hand not able to fit even halfway around it.

“No, Rafe,” you explained, “That was just Andy, one of the other campers. We were doing a trust fall exercise. He dropped me like two seconds after that!”

Despite himself, Rafe turned to look at you, eyes examining you nervously. 

“Are you ok?” He asked in a small voice, wishing desperately that he didn’t care.

You smiled softly, there he was - your boy. 

“I’m fine,” you assured him, showing him the small scar on your wrist. “Just a little scrape.”

A moment passed, he avoided your eyes but allowed you to step closer, your hand sliding down his arm and slipping into his, his fingers reluctantly intertwining with yours. You knew exactly what words he was struggling to find, but decided to let him get there on his own.

Finally, “Why didn’t you answer my letters?”

Your other hand reached into your back pocket and pulled out the envelope you had tucked away. You held it out to him wordlessly. He took the letter and held it to the light coming from his room, examining it with a confused look. The envelope was addressed to him at Tannyhill, from you at camp. When he finally noticed the “return to sender” label, it all clicked.

“They kept getting returned to me, I don’t know why,” you said as you squeezed his hand. “I asked to use my phone to let you know but they wouldn’t let me. I almost just snuck out of camp and came home so I could explain it to you.”

“Your mom would’ve been so mad,” he said, finally, finally smiling at you.

“Then she would’ve just taken away my phone and we’d be back where we started,” You said. “There’s like twenty more letters like that. I don’t know why they never made it to you, it’s like someone was sabotaging me.”

Rafe seemed satisfied with your explanation and the remaining bit of anger on his face melted away completely. He stuffed the letter in his pocket and suddenly threw his arms around you, lifting you in the air as you yelped in surprise, giggling as he started planting sloppy kisses all over your face and neck.

“Shhh, baby, my parents will hear you,” he whispered. “They’ve got me locked in my tower because I failed my last quiz in this fucking summer school pre-calc class.”

“Rafe!” you said in mock-scandal. “Naughty language!”

“Oh, baby, I can say way naughtier things than that,” he growled in your ear, your cheeks now burning from real-scandal.

“C’mon,” he said, setting you down and grabbing your hand, to lead you to his still-open window. 

He placed his large hand on the small of your back as he helped you through the window, climbing in after you and closing it slowly so as to not make a sound.

You and Rafe had done some more-than-kissing things before, but that was the night you gave yourselves to each other completely. He held you after, softly kissing the scar on your arm from when Andy had dropped you.

“Never gonna let that Andy asshole touch you again,” he said between kisses. “He can find his own girl, you’re mine.”

You giggled and he looked up at you in confusion.

“Rafe,” you were laughing hard now. “Andy’s gay.”

He broke into a bashful grin, a quick blush of embarrassment swept across his cheeks before he grew serious again and started kissing up your arm.

“I don’t care,” he said. “They should all know - all the Andys and Jakes and Chads and whoeverthefucks,” his kisses had reached your neck, “no guy is ever gonna get to touch you like me.” He pulled back and looked into your eyes with a sincerity that squeezed your heart. “Gonna love you forever. Gonna marry you, make you a mom. Never gonna spend three months, or even three fucking days away from you again. That what you want?”

“Yes,” you breathed, meaning it with your whole being.

“Good.”

Now…

The memories flooded your brain as you opened the door and stepped into the home you used to think would be yours someday. The party was swelling, the vibe feeling so familiar and so uncomfortable at the same time.

You made your way straight to the kitchen, desperately needing a drink. Every step you took sent a memory flashing through your thoughts like a shock to your brain. You passed the living room and saw movie-nights-turned-make-out-sessions on the couch, playing mario kart with Sarah and Wheezie while Rafe laughed at your hyper-competitiveness, prom pictures in front of the fireplace. You passed the dining room and saw the first family dinner you were invited to, how you made Ward laugh with a story about fishing your own dad used to tell, how Rafe squeezed your thigh under the table in pride. You entered the kitchen and saw the time you and Rafe set off the smoke alarm trying to make pancakes, the time he lifted you onto the counter and went down on you when his family was out of town. And then, standing by the keg, you saw the girl who invited you, clearly plastered already.

“Omg!” She yelled when she saw you.

Everyone else in the large kitchen turned and looked at you. It felt dramatic, but you could swear the whole room fell silent when they saw you, a comical record scratch playing in your head.

The girl who invited you ran over to you, beer sloshing over the side of her solo cup and onto her shirt. 

“I can not believe you came,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I completely forgot when I invited you, about, you know, you and-”

“Can I get one of those?” you cut her off quickly, gesturing towards her drink.

Before she could answer, a loud crash came from outside the kitchen’s open french doors. The heads that had all been watching you suddenly snapped toward the sound towards the crowded back yard. When the loud bellow of a man’s voice rang out, the people in the kitchen all ran towards the unfolding scene. You pushed through the crowd and out the doors, drawn inexplicably to the voice. Your heart dropped to your stomach when you realized why - it was Rafe.

There in the backyard, packed with drunk people and lit by string lights, Rafe stood with his fist clenched in the collar of some guy’s white button up, forcefully pulling the scared looking dude toward him while he yelled.

“I said none of that fucking cheap shit,” Rafe yelled at the guy you now realized was a cater-waiter. 

“I’m sorry sir, I-” Rafe threw the man down and he fell back in the dirt.

“This isn’t some ghetto block party out in The Cut,” Rafe yelled. “Do you know who’s fucking house you’re at right now?”

The crowd around you watched, most smiling in support of the man they looked at like he was a rockstar. You cringed at the looks of admiration in their eyes and took Rafe in with your own.

He looked different, harder. His floppy blond locks had been shaved off, and he had traded old t-shirts and jeans for slacks and a polo. He was as tall and built as you remembered, but instead of it being endearing, it was just scary as he looked down at the poor server like he was gonna kill him.

Then he spat on him. He actually spat on another human being. It disgusted you in more ways than one, and you felt your heart breaking in your chest as you realized you had no idea who this man was. The boy who held you on that night four years ago and promised to be yours forever clearly didn’t live here anymore. You turned quickly and pushed back through the crowd, unable to watch another second of this sickening display of toxic masculinity.

Rafe glared down at the pogue-scum in the dirt below him, an eerily familiar feeling washed over him as something moved quickly in the corner of his eye. He turned at just the right moment to see a whip of long hair disappear through the crowd.  But it wasn’t. It couldn’t possibly be. Surely, it was not you.

(chapter 2)

a/n: Hiiii this is the first fic I've posted in about 10 years!! Hope you enjoyed, forgive me if I'm rusty! More chapters to come :)

[onlinedolly]

SAVIOR COMPLEX

au where leon is a normal cop at raccoon city and you’re a pretty little thing he’s obsessed with ^___^

cw: stalking, kidnapping, drug use, dubcon, dry humping (?), hard language, dead dove do not eat, i think that’s it!

not proof read cuz i’m lazy lol

Leon, in his mind, was a good man.

He’d done a lot in his career, saved countless lives; so when he sees you he thinks it’s no different, not really. You were a young thing, pretty and too naive for your own good. Didn’t you know the world now? How cruel it could be? It made Leon sick to think about it, he’d only seen you once — pretty and smiling and all he could think was how the world was going to fuck you up eventually.

He began watching you then, like a good man does. Following you to your small apartment complex (on a side of town that put a sour taste in his mouth) every night, watching you from your window until you fell asleep, it was all precautionary really, he told himself. Had to make sure you were safe. That nothing bad would ever happen.

It’d been this way for a few weeks, maybe around a month or so until he witnessed the incident that really made his blood boil over. A man, taller and creepy, had been following you around the store for a while now, looking for his way in. Leon definitely couldn’t interject, not now, not when you didn’t know him, bound to just make the situation worse. So he watched, clenching the cart he had in his hand so tightly his knuckles turned white.

He almost interjected when he saw the man put his hand on your waist, watching as you cowered away as he grabbed something for you on a higher self. You poor, sweet thing, so naive and stupid. Leon decided then he had to do whatever it would take to help you. That’s what it was really, helping.

Leon was a good man.

-

It was harder than he originally thought taking you, you had a lively group of friends and supportive parents he would no doubt have to figure his way around. But, oh how the heavens must of listened to his prayers when he’d seen you (followed you for more than two hours) stumbling out of a bar drunk and alone.

It was divine timing really, Leon thought to himself. You were stumbling around to a back alley, fiddling with your phone in an attempt to order a ride share to pick you up, no doubt. How stupid were you really, Leon thought. Drunk and alone and ordering a car from a stranger to make sure you got home safe? You really truly knew no better, huh? What if you got hurt, kidnapped, assaulted?

Leon made it his mission all those weeks ago to protect you, help you at any cost, so when he sneaks up behind you placing the rag over your mouth until your body goes limp he’s simply doing it out of protection, out of love.

When he drags your limp body into his car, making sure no one saw, all he can think is how much better off you were in his arms. He was a cop after all, right?

Leon was a good man, he truly honestly believed that.

-

“You’re home now,” He’d explained when you came to in Leon’s apartment. You were scared, huddled in the corner of your pretty pink room ( which Leon had spent a lot of time on in decorating), and Leon really was trying his best to make you comfortable.

He sauntered over to you, and you couldn’t help but notice how he looked like he was a predator stalking his prey, leaning down and reaching his hand out to you in a kind gesture you hadn’t expected, “Let’s talk on the bed, why don’t we baby?” He spoke softly, kindly.

You were still frightened as hell, way too frightened to resist him, so with shaky fingers and sweaty palms you grasped his much bigger one and let him help you up. Leon moved you two to the bed, it was soft and had a pink floral bedspread, and sat closer to you than you wanted.

You had some strength, and you were confused and nervous, “Why?” stumbled out of your lips, hoarse and soft.

Leon nodded his head, “I knew you’d ask that, that’s okay—“ He leans up, brushes some hair off your forehead causing you to flinch, “— I wouldn’t expect you to understand at first, any how.” He spoke like he knew you, how long had he been watching you? Days? Months?

“I saved you.” He spoke matter of factly, it sent a chill down your spine. Saved you? From what?

“I-I don’t need saving,” You found courage to speak, still soft, still so hoarse, “I think you have the wrong p-person I-“

Leon’s jaw clinched as you cut yourself off. Of course you did, Leon’s not fucking stupid. Are you really so goddamn dumb to not realize how scary the world is? What it can do to sweet little things like you? But no, of course you didn’t know that, how could he expect you to? He pushed the rising anger down, Leon was a good man and really only got angry sometimes and he was going to control it if it meant making you like him. Getting you to love him.

“Pretty thing,” He spoke, moving closer to you so your knees knocked together, “I don’t expect you to understand.”

-

Despite everything, you just weren’t seeming to adjust to your new surroundings. Leon had saved you a little over a week ago, and despite trying to make you as comfortable as possible you still just seemed to want to leave.

After your first conversation Leon tried and tried to interact with you, form a relationship with you. He brought you three meals a day, each time watching you struggle to find a new way to escape. First it was the sealed window, the lock picking of the dead bolted doors, even trying to attack him like Leon can’t over power you in seconds. He couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t get you comfortable here.

Why couldn’t you see everything he was doing was for you? You can’t escape, not when the world is just going to eventually eat you up and leave you as broken as him. He was doing the right thing, keeping you here, why couldn’t you see that?

After another week of escape attempts and dry conversations over take out he had gotten you, you finally let up a bit. More open, more willing, the conversation was still dry but at least you weren’t trying to escape anymore.

“Sweet girl,” He spoke kindly,like he always did, as he entered with a tray of food. “I brought your food.” He entered the room, locking the various locks behind him as he sat on your bed. Leon had been nothing but kind in the past two weeks you’ve been here. It made you confused how someone who could so viciously take you was so kind hearted. You walked over to the bed, inspecting the food.

“You didn’t put anything in it, did you?” You asked, just like you always asked.

“Would that make you easier to manage, pretty thing?” He joked. It wasn’t funny, instead it made you feel sick how he could even joke about a topic like that. “No,” He reassured after seeing your fast twist up, “I didn’t put anything in it.” He leaned down, taking a bite of the food to show you it wasn’t contaminated, and only then did you feel safe enough to bring the fork to your lips.

Leon watched you eat for a few moments before speaking, “I was working today—“ He loved these stories, you thought, the ones that make the world seem bad. “— And we got a call. A guy shot his girlfriend. Can you believe that?” He moved to place his palm on your head, smiling at you bright and kind, “Thank god you’re here, right? Not with a sick bastard that could hurt you.”

You could almost laugh, did he not see who he was? A sick bastard in his own right, twisted and fucked up, just kind about it. You simply nodded, it was easier to give in, easier to please him. “Right.” You spoke softly.

-

It was another two weeks and you, embarrassingly so, had gotten more comfortable here. Sleep came more easy to you and Leon was slowly becoming a more comforting presence in your life.

He brought you food, just like always, telling you about his latest work story as you sipped your water. Unfortunately, the stories were starting to scare you, make your hair stand on end as he tells you about a man who murdered his family.

“Make sure to drink it all,” Leon dotes on you, tapping your glass with a big finger, “Need my pretty girl hydrated, hm?” You nod sweetly, just like you’ve been doing the past couple weeks and drink it all in three big gulps.

And okay, Leon was a good man!!! But he wasn’t always honest. He hadn’t been feeding you drugs, but that didn’t mean you weren’t taking them. He’d put them in your drink, mix them up until they were dissolved and make sure you drink it all. It wasn’t anything bad, what he gave you just made you a little sleepy and maybe a little more pliable to what he wanted from you. It didn’t hurt and he wouldn’t keep you out his stuff forever, just until you were ready to be weened off. When you were ready to love him back sober.

When your meal was done and he could tell you were feeling hazy, he leaned down like he always did and placed a soft kiss to your forehead mumbling what a good job you did for him. And you couldn’t help but admit how it made you feel, giddy and comforted.

Leon really wasn’t an awful guy, you caught yourself thinking as he exited the room. He fed you sufficiently, gave you the best clothes and softest towels to shower with, and he really wasn’t that terrible of company. Another 10 or so minutes passed and you were exhausted, falling into a slumber full of Leon.

-

You’d been here two months now, Leon kept you more drugged up than sober these days, but it made you so kind and needy. That’s right he said needy. A couple weeks ago your demeanor began to change, excitement filling you when he’d enter the room, telling him how much you’d missed him while away. He could get used to this.

He’d come to visit you before bed, you were in a pink pretty night gown with your hair in two messy braids when he’d came into the room.

“Leon,” You smiled softly at him, big doe eyes focused on the man by the door way.

“Hi sweetheart,” He spoke, locking the door and walking over to your bed to sit next to you, “Have a fun day, hm?” He pet your hair, giddy in the way that you lean into it.

“Had a good day, watched movies.” Ah yeah, Leon had gotten you a small box tv and some dvds from a resale shop, he was glad you were enjoying those.

“Good, good girl,” He spoke, not missing the way you purred hazily at the nickname, “Little girls deserve to have fun, yeah?”

You nodded at him happily, leaning more into his touch. You’d been such a good girl these past couple weeks, he pressed a kiss to your cheek and he felt how warm you got underneath his touch.

You were so affectionate tonight, would he test the waters more? See what else he could get away with?

“Baby, could we do something different tonight?”

“Different…how?” You spoke softly, flinching a little out of fear. Ah, he expected that to still be there. The thought of something new in this situation was bound to be scary.

“You’ll enjoy yourself angel,” He promised, pressing another sweet kiss to your cheek. He moved so he was laid on the bed next to you, sitting up with his head against the headboard. “Why don’t you give me a kiss first, hm?”

Leon had gotten you to kiss him a couple days prior, you’d been so nervous and fumbling when he’d held your head with his big hands explaining that he deserved a kiss for everything he’d done for you. He was too mean to be the one to kiss you first, waiting for you to stand on you tippy toes and place your lips against his. After a few minutes he’d grown impatient until you did just that, a small peck and turned into a heated session that had you panting into his mouth.

And now you loved kissing him, all hazy and dumb as you would beg him for goodbye kisses everytime he left you. So asking you for a kiss now was nothing out of the ordinary, and it wasnt out of the ordinary for you to climb into his lap and kiss him sloppily and sweet just like you were doing now.

And Leon *loved* it, the patience, the drugging, the kind sweet words was all worth it to lead to moments like this. With you licking at his bottom lip messily until he opened up to shove his tongue down your throat.

He was so happy it wasn’t some punk ass guy doing this to you, a man you didn’t deserve. It had to be him, he was everything you needed. He tested the waters, moving his hands to grip at your waist, he felt you jump beneath him, flinching at the new action. He pulled away smiling at you kindly,

“I told you something new, baby. You gotta trust me,” He gripped your hips tighter, feeling how you shook under him. It was exhilarating having you like this, inexperienced and scared under his touch.

“L-Leon,” You stuttered out, readjusting in his hold, making him groan out softly.

“Be patient, sweet thing.” He demanded, moving you around his lap, releasing another low groan from him.

You could feel something hard under you, hard and big. You gasp, trying to lift yourself off of him and he pushes you back down. “We’re gunna have s’much fun together, ain’t we sweet thing?” He slurred out until he found a good position for you to be in. Leaning his head against the headboard. “Gunna move your hips yeah? Be real weird at first, ‘kay baby? But I’ll make you feel real good sweet girl.” He spoke, leaning up to kiss the shell of your ear.

You’d gotten to the point where it was hard to refuse him, out of fear? Maybe. Or maybe it was something more. So you just nod eagerly, overwhelmed tears filling up your eyes as you wait for his instruction or his motion.

He begins rocking your hips against what you assume is his cock, you gasp softly, the feeling new and foreign to you.

Leon lets out a deep groan, he was loving this. He couldn’t believe he was here with you like this, rocking against his cock. He grips your hips harder, picking up the pace as your clothes cunt rubs against his cock. “God, aren’t you glad I took you, hm?” He’s rambling as you gasp and whine and cry under his hold, “If you’d done this with anyone else baby, I would’ve had to kill them, yeah? Aren’t you glad I rescued you.”

“Y-yeah,” You whine out, over come with this new feeling. The only things separating your cunt and his hard cock was your think panties and his rough pajama pants that rubbed deliciously against your pussy. You’re crying, overwhelmed by the feeling, lashes wet and tears dripping onto Leon’s cheeks (not that he gave a fuck), you move your hands up, shakily wiping the wet from his face as he moves you all at a fast pace.

“Enjoying yourself little girl? Yeah?”

“Uh-huh,” You hiccup, hazy and high, “T-thank you..” You whisper out.

“Dirty thing,” He groans out, moving you faster against his cock. He could only imagine what it’d be like to finally sink himself inside of you. He knows for a fact how wet you’d be, how he’d have to work you on his fingers before you take his big dick. The thought could make him cum in his pants.

“L-Leon I feel funny I…” You trail off, gripping his shirt in your smaller hands. He was so muscular it was almost breath taking.

“Yeah sweet girl I bet you do,” He laughed softly, trailing one of his hands down to press against your panty clad clit. You yelped softly, letting out multiple soft moans at the new sensation.

Your body was on fire, lit from the inside out as you gave up and indulged yourself in this new feeling. Your cunt was soaked leaving a dark stain on Leon’s pajamas as he roughly rocked you back and forth.

“God, fuck you’re such a good girl,” Leon grunts out, he was close, with the dry humping and the thoughts of fucking your sloppy cunt until you couldn’t think no more, he was ready to fucking explode. after a few more minutes he’s soaking himself, his pajamas a dark stained mess as he cums all over himself and your pretty panties. He makes a noise that’s almost like a growl as he grips your hip in a bruising hold.

You yelp out at the pain as he is circling your clit in a rough fast pace, you felt like you had to pee, the build up inside of you getting stronger and stronger as he mumbles sweet praises and tells you how he saved you over and over again, rubbing your clit in fast circles.

Finally the coil inside of you snaps as you yell out, a sobbing mess as you twitch and convulse and rut yourself against his big hand. Leon could cum again almost looking at you fuck your wet cunt against his hand.

You were overwhelmed but you couldn’t stop, you were shaking and sobbing at this point as you fuck yourself fast and hard against his hand.

“Baby let’s stop, yeah?” He spoke, pressing his hands on your tummy and back and slowing you to a stop, kissing you on your cheek as he stares at your blissed out face.

Leon Kennedy was a good man, Leon was your savior.

[frudoo]

Your new Baker!Simon AU has me hooked! 🤩😊 Retired!Ghost baking away in the comfort of his home, just needing something to improve his lil’ therapy-inspired business… someone like Food-Photographer!Reader ;) You gotta tell me how absolutely OVERBOARD he goes with the dessert(s) when they schedule their first meet up. Pleeeaaaseeee?

I’m obsessed!!! ^-^ Can’t wait to hear anything else you come up with, dear Writer! Thank you for being you 🫡

Much love, keep yourself happy ‘n’ healthy and get Simon some more dough (Get it? Money = dough? But also dough ‘cause he’s a baker? Hahah. Hah…)! <3

Changed it up a bit 😉

Previous

Warnings: Body image issues, mentions of therapy.

Simon is up to his elbows in baked goods. There’s no room on the kitchen island for the tray of espresso-flavored macarons he just prepared, so he has to set them on the coffee table in his living room. On the overcrowded counter is an array of cupcakes of various flavors—chocolate, cookie butter, ube (Kyle made him try the flavor when the 141 went to the Philippines for a trip and he fell absolutely in love), all arranged on separate platters that match their color. Each treat is decorated with perfect swirls of buttercream or topped with shiny luster dust.

He can’t remember the last time he’d baked so much. Maybe it was Price’s retirement party? Honestly, he doesn’t remember much of that night, but boy does he remember the morning after. Simon can recall how he got every single scar on his broad body, but not one of those painful experiences even scratches the surface of that fucking hangover. Nevertheless, it’s been a long, long time since he’s baked so many sweets. He didn’t even eat breakfast before he started working, and that was… six hours ago? Bloody hell, how is it already nearly time?

One look at the clock and Simon is scrambling to get dressed—jeans that hang low on his waist and a simple black tee. Both fabrics stretch around the muscles he’s maintained despite the growing layer of fat around his belly. He pats his torso as he looks at himself in the mirror, cleft lip scrunched up in distaste. Maybe he should lay off of all those “quality control” taste tests. He doesn’t have much time to think about it before his doorbell rings.

God, he doesn’t think he’s ever been so nervous in his life. Not through the amount of times he’s looked death right in the eye, not when his father would come clunking home absolutely hammered, not when he held Johnny’s hand to keep him awake and alert after Makarov shot him right in the temple. But you, this sweet, pretty girl who’s coming to see him—not even for a date!—has his fingers fidgeting and his heart racing in his chest. He sucks in a deep breath and counts to three, just like his therapist taught him, then opens the door.

Simon knows he’s in for it the moment he sees you look up at him in awe, trying to hide your shock with a crooked smile. Pretty round cheeks and a soft body—he’s doing his best not to look at the dip where your blouse exposes your cleavage—and plush lips that he’s dying to feel against his own. Fuck.

“I- uh… Simon? I-I’m here about the- um. My treats. Your treats! My camer- pictures! I’m here to take pictures of your… treats.”

The man can practically see the mental faceplant you just gave yourself, and for some reason, it calms his nerves. You’re human, and you’re real, and you’re beautiful. And you’re waiting for him to invite you in.

“Pleasure. C’mon in, jus’ mind the… er. The clutter.”

Simon opens the door wider and you thank him softly, gasping when you see the amount of goodies all over his kitchen and even overflowing into the living room. There must be at least a hundred cupcakes and a few dozen macarons. It stuns you for a second but his gentle hand on your shoulder brings you back to reality. You clear your throat and smile up at him.

“You really went all out!” You giggle a bit and Simon’s heart just about leaps out of his chest—he shrugs.

“Ligh’ work,” he jokes.

You’re embarrassed by the snort that slips out of you, covering your mouth as your eyes go wide, but Simon thinks it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He needs to snap out of it. This is business. Simon runs a hand through his slightly overgrown hair sheepishly, gesturing towards the camera that hangs by a strap on your neck.

“Oh, r-right. Did you wanna be in the photos? Get you a nice new profile picture?” You ask with a grin, carefully slipping past him to examine his work more closely. “People typically like to know the face of the person they’re ordering from.”

Simon bites the inside of his cheek, debating. The military instilled such a strict rule in him. He never posts his face out of fear someone from his past will come knocking down his door to carry out a vendetta. He was thorough in his SAS days, never allowing himself to be caught without the infamous Ghost mask, but regardless, he deems it too much of a risk. He’s thankful you seem to understand his hesitation.

“We could do a picture of you holding up a tray so it’s just your chest and arms? I could crop your face out, or we don’t have to include you in it at all. It’s up to you.”

Too fucking sweet for your own good.

“Chest ‘n’ arms’ll be fine, love,” he grunts finally, offering you a small smile.

“Sounds like a plan,” you look back to nod at him before grabbing the camera from around your neck. “Where do you wanna start?”

“Wha’ever’s easiest f’you,” Simon hums, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall to watch as you twist and turn every confectionary to find the best angle.

You’re quiet when you’re focused. The only sounds he can hear are the shutters of the camera snapping a picture or your footsteps as you step around the counter to capture every little feature of the whimsical delicacies. It’s odd. Simon doesn’t mind quiet—prefers it most of the time—but he can’t help but crave the sound of your voice explaining to him every single thought going through your head. He blames it on curiosity.

It takes all of twenty minutes for you to get every picture you need of his confections, with varying angles and lighting changes. You walk over to him and go through the photos, explaining every little detail you loved or why you changed up the order of things for a particular shot. Simon nods in approval—he genuinely could not tell the difference between most of them, but like hell he’s going to tell you that, not when you’re this close, looking up at him with that sweet, hopeful smile.

“Looks perfect t’me,” he breathes, giving you a soft pat on the back.

“Thank you,” you sniffle. “So… did you still wanna do that profile picture?”

“I- er, tha’s fine. Where d’ya need me?”

“Right over… here!” You gently grab him by his bicep and pull him to where there’s a blank wall and a good amount of light.

Simon stands in place like a studious muse while you rearrange some of his treats on one of his circular platters. You place the tallest cupcakes near the back, the smaller ones in the middle, then position the macarons in a way that showcases both their shiny tops and the perfect bake he got on them. Cautiously, you grab the tray and take it over to him.

“Here, hold it just- yeah, just like that. Perfect.”

You bite your lip when you carefully maneuver his arms into a position where the light captures the depth of his faded tattoos and prickling veins—you convince yourself it’s to give the picture more personality. Simon’s just glad that his face won’t be visible. He’s praying right now that you don’t notice how fucking red he’s gotten just from your delicate touches and the way you stare at his arms and chest. It makes him feel insecure and as a result he sucks in his belly. His heart skips a beat when you frown.

“Don’t do that,” you whisper, hesitating before lightly placing your hand on his stomach to encourage him to relax. “Looks better like this.”

In less than ten words—far fewer than his therapist has spoken over the past few years, fewer than every single uplifting word he’s written in his journals—you’ve managed to silence the unrest in his head that tells him he’s not good enough, if only just for a few moments. His breath hitches in his throat as you step back to take a final picture. Satisfied, you take the platter from his hands and set it aside, giving him a shy grin.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep-”

“No, don’t apologize. I, uh… I needed tha’. Thank you,” his voice trails off as he looks down at you.

You nod shortly, sucking in a deep breath. He’s so close and it makes you dizzy.

“Right. I guess I’ll head out, and as soon as I get the pictures edited, I’ll send them to you?” You bite your lip and Simon has to resist the urge to lean in and take a nip for himself.

“Oh, please, take some o’this. I don’t know wha’ t’do w’all of it,” he scratches the back of his neck timidly.

Taking one last quick look around his house, you hum thoughtfully.

“I have an idea.”

[the-californicationist]

Cali's Kinktober: Day 06

Kinktober Masterlist coitus more ferarum - "fuck like animals" TF141 x f!reader Kinks > omegaverse, comeflation, hurt-comfort, fuck or die, medical discussions about dicks and puberty Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.

An Omegaverse AU. You are a professional, one of the best. As a Guidance Omega, you are happy to lend your (well-paid) skills to any Alpha in need. However, when one of your regular clients asks you to help his friend through his very first rut, you wonder if there are some challenges that are beyond your expertise. 

You were no doctor, but that definitely did not look good. As you stood next to your long-time client, Captain John Price, the Apex Alpha of his pack, you studied his soldier’s condition. It was the man’s first rut, which was very odd indeed, but nothing about this situation was normal. Apparently, he’d been living as a Beta for years, thinking that he had just missed his parents’ genetic code. But, now that he had been exposed to some sort of Konni terrorist drug, his genes had mutated, awakening latent Alphic traits. 

“How old is he?” You asked. 

“Twenty-nine. Too bloody old to be going through a first rut,” Price sighed, crossing his arms over his wide chest, “Mine was painful when I was a lad, and my cock was half the size it was meant to be. To be stretched like this… We’re lookin’ to you, Omega. You ever seen anythin’ like it?”

You shook your head. You hadn’t ever seen this before. When Alphas went through their first puberty as younglings, their genitals swelled, growing three or four times their size, breaking the thin skin they had since their birth and replacing their reproductive system with functioning Alpha hormones and fully equipped physical traits. As they matured further, their genitals would still grow and change with them, but not nearly as much as the first time. The initial switch in puberty could be traumatizing for younglings that went through it in later years rather than earlier. 

“No,” you sighed with him, “If he were younger, we could obviously opt for the surgery, but this is his mature skin. It’s not the membrane. All those years as a Beta, and now for him to be going through this… The pain must be unbearable. Perhaps… no, no. I don’t think that’s possible.”

“What?” Johnny’s Alpha, Simon Riley, interrupted your thought, insisting, “Tell us. We’ll do anything. We need him to survive this.”

Any other time, you would say that this was a gross overreaction, but in this case, their new Alpha friend may lose his life if he failed to make the change. If his skin cut and bled, if his hormones failed to take over in his Alphic glands, he might not live to even have a rut at all. 

“And you’ve tried the warm baths? The ones with the numbing oil I sent you?” You clarified, wondering how he was responding to other treatments.

“Every four hours. They help him get through a few hours of sleep at night, but it’s not sustainable. He can’t even wear clothes for fuck’s sake,” Gaz, an old friend of yours who had known you before your work as a Guardian Omega, spoke up. He was curt, obviously stressed about his friend. 

You walked over to Johnny’s bedside and held his hand, 

“Hey, Johnny. I’m the Guardian Omega John told you about. I’m here to help you, okay?”

He writhed, sweat beading over his brow, and he glowered down at his naked body, fiercely glaring at his red, swollen prick,

“Serves me right for all the bloody wishin’ I did as a laddie for havin’ a bigger knob, aye?”

The fact that he managed a slight smile and a wry joke, even if it was said through clenched teeth, immediately won you over. This man was exactly your type; brave, funny, and built like a beast. You didn’t know if you could help him, but you wanted to try. 

“Johnny, we have to let your dick stretch to its true size. If it stays trapped behind your foreskin and the outer epidermis of your sheath, you could have internal bleeding, or worse.”

“I didnae ken the word epidermis could turn me on, bonnie, but the way you say it… proves me wrong.”

His soft blue eyes finally met yours, and you could tell he was just putting on a courageous face. He knew he was in trouble, and he was probably in more pain than you previously suspected. 

“What was your idea?” Simon pressed, coming to stand next to Johnny’s bedside, staring at you with some urgency. 

You looked down at Johnny, rubbing the back of his hand with your fingers, feeling the ridges of his knuckles,

“I could keep you in me. We could… soak the skin in the Omegan oils. It would be…” 

You stopped talking. It was ridiculous. And based on the look on all of the men’s faces, they couldn’t believe you were even suggesting it.

“You cannae do it, lass. It’d throw you into a wee heat, and I’m in no state to help you. Ah! Shite,” Johnny gasped, wincing in pain as his cock throbbed, obviously eager to be a part of a heat, hypothetical or not. 

“I’ll stay, love. You’re gonna need some help gettin’ yourself to that state and keepin’ it that way,” Price volunteered. 

“I can’t ask you to do that, John. You’d be in just as much pain as Johnny by the end of the heat.”

“Aye, but I’d be alive, and if it works, so would he.”

John was stubborn. But, he was right. If you were going to try to soak Johnny’s aching cock in you for hours, you needed to prepare. Gaz could see the gears turning in your head,

“You’re gonna need us in shifts, and you know it. This is gonna take a fuckin’ village.”

And so it did. You had John bring in supplies – food, hydration, lube, and every comfort item you could imagine needing – and you got to work. The first step was getting Johnny settled inside of you so that you could allow his skin to soften in the oils from your glands. But, you couldn’t produce those on your own. You needed to be worked up to it by an Alpha, preferably one who knew how to get your body to come hard and quick. Wash, rinse, and repeat. 

You wouldn’t be able to get any pleasure from Johnny’s straining cock while he was inside of you. Thrusting would be beyond painful for him, and it would be dangerous to his system. You would need to cockwarm him, and John and his men would need to make you come without fucking you. The only problem was, if you were made to stay in that deep, orgasmic state for long enough, your body would toss you into a heat, and that’s when the real fun would begin. 

In your heat, you would expose all of the Alphas in the room to your pheromones. They would rut, and they wouldn’t be able to rut into your cunt with it occupied, as it were. They had to endure the cycle without your soothing oils, sacrificing their own comfort so that you could help Johnny’s foreskin and swollen tissue endure the change. 

You thought it might work. It was the best idea you had, but the problem was staring you right in the face: Alphas in a rut physically needed to fuck for it to stop. If – and it was a big if – your plan worked for Soap and you could coax his prick to form a knot, you would then need to service the other three. They might fight each other to be first in line, they might hurt you. It was so risky, but it was a risk you were all willing to take in order for Johnny to get better. 

“Johnny,” you woke him from the nap he was taking while you were all gathering supplies, “We’re ready.”

“Mm,” he groaned, his eyes wrenched shut from the pain, “Alright, bonnie. I’m ready for you.”

“This will be the worst of it, I think. And,” you made sure he was looking into your face, “It will be very, very painful.”

He nodded,

“I ken it, lass. Dinnae fash yourself. Needs doin’, and I know you… Angh! Fuck,” he hissed, grabbing your hand tighter when a pang struck him, “You’ll be there for me.” 

“I will, Johnny. I won’t leave you. This is gonna work,” you leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, trying to be respectful of Simon’s claim, even if it was now – at least hormonally – invalid.

You stood on the bed, straddling his hips, and Simon and Gaz were there to help lower you into position. You wanted to be able to settle your hole on him as carefully as possible. No sudden movements. 

You poured copious amounts of lube down his shaft and used your fingers to spread it around the outside and inside of your entrance. You wanted him to feel as little resistance as possible. This was about comfort, not pleasure. 

“Alright, slow as you can,” you instructed, letting the two giants by your side lower you down into position. 

The moment your skin made contact with Johnny’s ruddy cockhead, he screamed out in agony,

“Creepin’ Jesus! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 

“Hold him, John!” You called out to their captain for help. If Johnny jerked forward, he could rip his flesh and cause permanent damage. 

Price’s huge hands pinned his friend to the bed, and you could see tears streaming down Johnny’s cheeks. You wished you could take his pain away, but stopping now meant giving up on him, and you weren’t going to let it come to that. 

Another inch and you had half of his pulsing head inside of you. It was smooth and easy for you to take with all the lube, but if you hadn’t prepped yourself, Johnny’s giant phallus would be a challenge. If he lived, he would be quite a formidable Alpha. You couldn’t let him down. 

“A little further, Gaz,” you said in a low voice, not wanting to scare Johnny of more pain. 

Another inch and the crown popped into you, sealing itself within your warm, wet body. 

Johnny cried out, shouting for mercy, begging for them to just let him die. 

“You can’t fuckin’ die, Johnny,” Simon said, trying to comfort his mate, “C’mon, love. You can do this.”

“Si… please, I cannae…” Soap looked up at him, pleading. 

You dropped a little more, and each time you did, you felt your heart clench at Johnny’s groans of anguish, ready for it to end even though you had just begun. 

Finally, after more than thirty minutes of this terrible limbo, you reached his base and you settled your weight on his body, staying as still as possible to minimize his discomfort. 

“Fuck, bonnie. I cannae do it. I’m sorry, I’m… It hurts,” Johnny was sobbing, and Simon rushed to his side.

Price finally let him free, and he laid there beneath you, throbbing inside of you, aching in your warmth. 

“John,” you whispered, getting Price’s attention, “We should hurry.”

The captain took one last look at Soap and then came over to your side. He stripped off his clothes and tugged on his already-hard cock, drooling for you despite the drama. Your pheromones were strong even without a rut; it was why you had been so successful at your job. You just hoped it would be enough. 

Price sat on the bed next to where you were straddling Johnny’s cock, and he began to kiss you, making sure to take care not to move you too much, but still taking charge of your pleasure nonetheless. You felt his hand begin to rub your lubed folds, prepping your body for your first of many orgasms. 

“Mngh,” you gasped, “Your hands are always so damn good.”

“Love touchin’ you, sweetheart. Gonna make you come for me,” John purred. 

And he was right. It didn’t take much effort from him, and you were at the precipice of your first descent into the dark abyss of bliss, trying to come without accidentally humping forward, controlling your breathing, focusing on your core. 

“Motherfuck–” You let out a deep guttural groan, your belly twisting in on itself and punishing you for staying so still. 

“Good girl,” Price murmured, picking up the pace to chase another one down. 

Two, three, four more, and you were sobbing with pleasure. You couldn’t stop yourself from pulsing around Johnny, but he was trying to be brave. He hadn’t complained once during this part of the process, and as you felt your body produce its slick from high up in your cunt, you hoped his flesh would yield and allow his cock to grow. You weren’t sure exactly where your body was going to fit more of him, but that was a problem for later.

“There it is,” you told Price in a slurred voice.

“Your slick? Aye, I smell you, love. Smells like heaven.”

“Keep going,” Simon said over his shoulder, “Please.”

You nodded down at him, holding onto Price for stability, trying your best to stay in this submissive state without any overt movement. It was not easy. All you wanted to do was hump the life out of Johnny’s fat cock and make him drop his load inside of you, but you knew, logically, that couldn’t happen. So, you stayed as still as you could, holding your hips in place, trying to be as stationary as possible for him. 

The afternoon turned into evening and then into night, and Price had switched out with Gaz who was now buzzing your high-powered vibrator on you with a dark look in his eyes. 

“Babes, I think we have to stop.”

“No,” you gasped, sweat pouring off of your brow, “It’s working. I can feel him growing inside of me. It’ll work.”

“That’s not what I mean. You’re droppin’ into heat. Look at you, you’re burnin’ up.”

You knew he was right, and you also knew it was way too soon. If you fell into your heat now, the whole process would be even harder. The three Alphas who were helping you would have their own needs, soon. And you would be the only one able to solve their rut. 

Price was already not faring so well. He’d needed to step into the other room to cool off, and you could see his knot hanging heavy above his balls. He was producing so much of his own slick and come, and your body was feeding off of that knowledge. 

“Look, Kyle,” you nodded down at Soap, “He’s asleep, deeply, and he finally has some relief. This is working, and we can’t stop now.”

“Come again, then. Come for me right now,” Gaz used his voice to command you, and you were so weak to his Alpha's power that you did. He had forced you to come just then, and you had to clutch him around the neck to stop from sliding back and forth over Soap’s growing cock. 

“See?” Gaz glared at you, “You’re in the early stages now. Your fever isn’t the only bloody clue.”

He grabbed your hair at the nape of your neck and made you look down at his cock. It was huge, and the tip gleamed with an iridescent bead of his Alphic slick. That wasn’t his normal precome. It was a rut, and you were staring at the first drop of his breeding fluids, ready to be painted inside of you to eas the way for his seed to take root. 

“Yeah,” Simon sighed, showing you his rainbow-covered palm, “I’ve had it for a while, now. I was just hopin’ Johnny’d be better and we could stop the rut from setting in.”

“Johnny’s knot is just starting to form. If we stop, he’ll have to go through the rest without the oils, and he… mngh…” The vibrator teased your clit, making you feel another orgasm coming on. It was painful for you to come, but you could handle it. Overstimulation was not life-threatening. You gritted your teeth and continued, “He can’t do it alone.”

“Then, come again,” Gaz swiped a wet thumb across your tight asshole, pressing the vibrator even stronger to your body, making you tumble and struggle with another orgasm, “The faster he knots you, the sooner I can have this pretty fuckin’ cunt.”

“Sergeant,” Price snapped at Gaz, forcing his attention away from you, his voice full of a different kind of hunger. 

Gaz blinked, the dark look in his eyes giving way to his usual sweetness, and he started to apologize to you,

“Fuck, I’m sorry, babes. Just got a little carried away. You smell so fuckin’ intense in your heats. Your scent…”

“It’s okay, Kyle,” you kissed him on the mouth, “It’s not your fault. Just take a break. I can handle John.”

Gaz kissed you back and retreated, clothing himself and ducking outside on the patio for a smoke. As John came to your side, he helped you onto some pillows, placing them under your knees. 

Just when you were settling in again, trying to stay as comfortable as you could, you both heard Soap wake up with a start. Simon was making some tea, but he was right back at Johnny’s side. 

“Johnny, careful,” he helped him readjust, waiting for the cries of pain to begin again. 

But, the screams didn’t come. Sure, he didn’t look like he was having a particularly good time, but he was not crying out in agony. He seemed more surprised that you were,

“Oh, shite. Bonnie, that feels… better. Feels like I can breathe again. Fuck. The base though. It’s so fuckin’ swollen.”

“Your knot,” you panted, “Your knot finally has room to form. I can feel it stretching me.”

Price moved his hand to the edge of your puffy, aching lips, feeling around the place where your body met Johnny’s, checking to see how far he had knotted you. 

“Tha’s our good girl,” he smiled up at you, “Been givin’ him your come, love?”

You nodded, resting your head on Price’s neck, exhausted, but trying to push onward. Soap still needed your strength. 

“Let’s give him a little more, yeah?” The captain’s hand moved to your arse, dipping his finger into your tight hole, even tighter now that it was fighting Johnny’s raging erection for space. 

“Holy fuck,” Price moaned, “He’s got you so fuckin’ full.”

Between Soap’s spread legs, Price laid down on his belly on the bed and began to kiss and bite the meat of your ass, his warm, wet tongue heading straight for your hole. 

He began to lick the outside of your rim, lapping at you in big, long licks. His huge hands were holding your cheeks apart, squeezing their plumpness in his fingers indulgently. When the tip of his pink, writhing muscle reached just beyond the inside of your hole, you cried out, gasping from the sensation. John began to fuck you with his mouth, and you felt your whole body come alive with sparkling need. 

“Mngh! John, please!” You shuddered, your knees trembling on the pillows. 

John hummed, talking to you between decadent licks,

“You smell so bloody good, Omega. You’ve got me fuckin’ dripping down my cock. My knot is already so full for you. Ready for you.”

“Ngh! You’re comin’ on me, lass. I can feel you, and it actually feels bloody brilliant,” Johnny commented, moaning through gritted teeth. 

The man in your pussy was still so sensitive; it was hard for him to focus. But, Soap was growing. His knot was filling with his blood, hardening within you. You could feel it. He was becoming a true Alpha. 

“Are you okay, Johnny? Does it hurt?” You asked him, watching as Simon rubbed his hands all over his chest and belly, trying to sooth him. 

“In the best way, hen. It’s workin’. I know it is.”

Price’s mouth, and the relief you felt at Johnny’s progress, worked together in your nerves and allowed your muscles to relax. You melted into an orgasm over him, pouring your Omegan oils all over his skin. In that same moment, as your come surrounded Johnny’s immense knot, you felt it slip just that much further into you and plug your hole with its girth. He’d done it; he had knotted you without injury. 

“Unhgh! Fuck! Fuck, bonnie, that feels… oh, fuck, I’m gonna come.”

You screamed in a wild shout, coming even harder now that you felt Johnny’s thick cream burst inside of your belly, hot and sticky and trapped within you. It made you feel so full of him, his knot and his come leaving little room for anything else. You dared to roll your hips on him, helping drain him dry, pulling more and more come from his heavy balls and letting it churn inside of you, swirling around his cock within your walls. 

Price came back up for air, and after you caught your breath, he helped Johnny slip himself out. His cock was red and bruised from his ordeal, but it was the prick of an Alpha. He’d lived through the change. 

Just when you were going to lean forward and congratulate him, Price’s hands clenched around your shoulders and yanked you from the bed. 

“John! Wait, it’s –”

“It’s my turn, love. You’re in a fuckin’ heat for me, and I’m ready for you,” his face turned dark and serious, just like Gaz had done, and there was no man in the room capable of saving you from John Price. 

“Just let me have a moment. I’m so sore, John. If you can wait for–nghah!!”

He threw you down on your hands and knees and thrust himself inside of you, his large shape too much for your body to ignore. You felt the glide of his slick, and you knew he needed to rut inside of you. He’d mate with you, and it would take, even through your pharmaceutical-grade blockers. He was an Apex Alpha, and there were no drugs on the planet to keep him from completing his birthright. You were about to be bred. 

“Waited long enough, pretty girl. Johnny’s got you so warm and soft. Shouldn’t be long before you’re taking my knot, too,” he growled in your ear, laying over your body as he tried to squeeze every last inch of his shaft inside your hole. 

You could feel his knot swelling at his root like a giant’s fist, bigger than you had ever felt it. But, you’d never serviced him during a heat. It wasn’t done. Guardian Omegas were there to help with ruts; they handled their heats on their own. But, goddamn it was nice to have a real cock for it this time. You’d been single for a long time, and you’d forgotten just how luxurious your body made it feel when you did the right thing and fed a true Alpha right inside your core. 

His thrusts were lewd and cruel. John banged himself into you, a hammer and its tack, dragging you under him and covering you with his hulking body. He was trying to knot you already, but you weren’t prepared to take him. Your whole body felt like it would burn up if you let it, and your skin flushed hot with need. 

“John… I can’t. You’re too much for me. I’m not… Oh, God, fuck!”

Price didn’t listen to your pleas for mercy. Or, he couldn’t. When you looked at him over your shoulder, you saw his eyes, unfocused and half-closed, glancing down every few thrusts to stare at his cock as it whet itself inside of your pussy. He was gone. 

He shoved himself forward, planting his hand in the middle of your back like a hawk with its talons, clutching at his soft prey as he devoured it. His knot pressed, and then retreated, only to press again, determined to get stuck inside your cunt so that his come could fill your womb. 

One more hard thrust, and he was in. 

You wailed out in high pleasure, and you felt your body begin to shudder and tremble from the mind-breaking lust of taking his enormous knot. It was so heavy inside of you that you felt like you were being pushed down by it. When you tried to lift your hips to roll them against him, you couldn’t move. He was too big. 

“Tha’s it, love. Tha’s it. This cunt belongs to me.”

John began to come, grunting and growling out nasty words to you as he spilled his seed inside of you. You felt it pool within you, mixing with Johnny’s, overwhelming it and soaking into your womb. He just kept filling you and filling you; you thought it would never stop. In fact, your belly began to feel tight against the floor, swollen with his milky white come. 

But, your legs were dry. He had knotted you so tightly that nothing escaped. When his hips tried to hump you, reflexes from his sex-fueled brain, he dragged you back across the floor with his dick, strong enough to yank your whole body back and forth with his knot. You felt like a ragdoll, tossed about, stuffed and cock-drunk.     

When he finally did pull out of you, you felt the gush of fluids burst out of your hole and cover the floor. It was a sickening, oozing sort of feeling, and you had to catch your breath from the way your belly clenched and spasmed from the stress.

Just when you thought your ordeal was over, you felt another set of hands take their place on your ass cheeks, holding you down again. 

You looked over your shoulder, and you realized that Gaz had come back inside, ready for his turn with you. 

You started to protest, but John’s callused hand grabbed your face, lifting you up and setting your mouth on his cock, breathing hard and groaning,

“Good little Omega. Be sweet for Garrick, love. You’ll have me again soon. Quite the fuckin’ rut you started. Had no idea this pussy could be so nice. Might have to send you into heat more often.”

idek what the hell this is. someone put me out to pasture holy hell what is wrong with me

[lurochar]

The Domino Effect (Pt. 1)

Alastor's shadow has been banned from seeing you for a week. The fallout thus begins.

This was getting long, so it's going to be split into 2 parts. I'm not sure when the second part will be posted, hopefully next week.

Warnings: Alastor's shadow is a massive simp for Reader. There are a few cringey deer puns to get through

18+ MDNI

The Shadow will Play and The Buck Stops Here

^^

Please read those two first

--------------------------------------------

One week.

An entire week – 7 whole days (his Master was so, so cruel), 168 hours (time wasn’t the same for a being like him), 10, 080 minutes (so why was it taking so long to pass?), 604, 800 seconds (would have to go by before he could smell, touch, taste you again).

He was getting restless, antsy in the meantime.

His Master was allowing him to roam around freely if he didn’t need him for anything, so perhaps his Master did understand that being separated from you was one of the worst things he (they) could endure.

Not that Alastor would ever admit that out loud of course.

But misbehaviour was misbevaviour – Alastor couldn’t let his own shadow think it could do whatever it wanted without his explicit permission, especially when it concerned you.

Everything about you belonged to him. Your pleasure was his, your pretty sounds were his. All of your blood, sweat, and tears were his. 

His shadow may be a literal part of him, but he was a selfish, selfish man. Wasn’t he already being kind enough to allow his shadow to watch and observe? 

Yes, you were his in every way but one – your soul. 

It was an utterly frustrating aspect about you and Alastor wasn’t completely sure why you would not give your soul to him. Surely by now you know he would do everything in his power to protect it, treasure it, and he would never dream of mistreating you in any way.

You saw how he treated other souls under his thumb, how he treated Husker and Niffty. He was most certainly charitable to them, wasn’t he? Sure, he may be a little rougher on Husk, but it wasn’t his fault the former Overlord didn’t seem to know his place at times and he couldn’t have the souls he owned out of line and misbehaving, could he?

You, of course, were different from them, they were toys, his pawns. You were his lover, his mate. 

He was selfish, but he was also patient. He could wait, he would wait until he could find a loophole and break out of his own contract – you didn’t find out about that, did you? It’s not as if he told you about it. He wasn’t even sure how Husk found out about it, it wasn’t something he spoke about to anyone.

(Was that why you refused to give him your soul?)

It must be difficult, he was sure, so he gave his shadow a little bit more leeway than usual and it certainly was using it.

His shadow was clearly irritated, engaging in activities that it was familiar with, but ramped up in intensity.

Pranks against the hotel’s residents were now borderline assaults and Alastor simply allowed it to happen, despite the annoyed complaints he was receiving and concerned looks he was getting from you.

He didn’t answer when you asked about ‘Shadowy’.

“Fuck you.” Husk grumbled, not bothering to get up from his slumped position at the bar as the damn shadow just seemed to pop up from nowhere. He was already starting to deal with the shakes, suffering from the backlash of not having any alcohol when the shadow switched out all of his alcohol with other liquids during the night.

You had kindly volunteered to go and fetch him some booze, but Alastor had simply sneered at him and reminded you that you two had a lunch date with Rosie and thus, wouldn’t be back at the hotel until quite late. 

You had thrown him an apologetic look and Husk just shook his head, not wanting to piss Alastor off. At least you tried, the only one who bothered to do so other than Charlie, who quickly ran off to town as soon as she saw his condition to buy him a six-pack to get him through the night. He could order more once the withdrawals wore off.

That fucking shadow popped up just as he finished his first bottle.

Other than cursing at it, Husk didn’t have the energy to do much else other than growl at it. It just snickered at him and before Husk could even react, its arm swiped across the counter and knocked the five remaining bottles off the bar and watched with a menacing glee as they shattered across the floor.

Husk stared in disbelief as his remaining booze leaked on the ground and the shadow cooed at him in an extremely condescending manner, stroking the back of its hand with its tongue and giving him a look with its hollow eyes as if to say, ‘lick it up.’ 

The shadow vanished as swiftly as it came.

That one bottle wasn’t enough and Husk vaguely wondered if he had done anything to anger Alastor recently and if Charlie was willing to go back into town again to pick him up any more booze.

Hell, he’d even ask Niffty at this point. He didn’t care who got him what he needed, as long as he got it in the end. 

He almost felt desperate enough to lick it right off the floor.

That damn shadow was probably watching him and waiting for him to do it.

Fuck him.

~00~

The shadow dealt with his frustrations the next day by leaving the hotel and slaughtering a few Sinners, specifically targeting ones that had any VoxTek on their person. 

He licked the blood off his claws, but grimaced at the flavour. Nothing had an appeal for him since he had a taste of you, but then had immediately been deprived right after. 

Why was his Master so harsh?

Why couldn’t he touch you too?

But orders were orders and he had no choice but to listen. He just didn’t understand, you had thought the bleats were cute and he knew you would not go around telling everyone that his Master bleated during sex, so why was his Master annoyed with him?

Would his Master react in the same way if he told you about their tail? Well, it was more specifically his Master’s secret than his own since pulling his own tail just wouldn’t have the same effect.

He may be punished again, but he also felt the contentment from his Master, especially that night where he felt the tinges of euphoria and a ghost-like touch upon his ears. He hadn’t been completely connected to his Master that night, so he only felt the barest of touches, but he knew you must have gotten Alastor to bleat.

What was one more thing?

Another punishment would be unpleasant, but ultimately if his Master (and him too) got the utmost pleasure out of revealing ‘humiliating’ secrets to their lover, who would never laugh at them no matter what, another punishment would be worth it.

Besides, if these thoughts were running in the front of his mind, then they must be running in the back of his Master’s – probably pushed down and away because his Master thought they were weaknesses.

His Master had even once thought that about you in the very beginning, as ridiculous as it seemed now, considering his Master (and him) would rip Hell apart and make it rain with guts and gore should anything happen to you.

His Master was just bad at feelings, that's all.

~00~

The shadow was back at the hotel.

His ears twitched as he sat on the top of the stairs. He caught the sound of Charlie’s voice somewhere nearby. Ah, she was a lucky one, his Master had told him to leave Charlie out of any pranks as he needed to stay on her good side. 

Everyone else was free game.

He had gotten Husk.

Charlie was a no-go.

Angel Dust was… honestly, he wanted to avoid being near him. The constant sex jokes made even his Master uncomfortable and irked. He only understood what his Master understood and before you, Alastor had almost zero interest in sex. Most of the time, his Master (and thus, him) had no idea what Angel Dust was even talking about and did not want to know.

So, Angel Dust only if he were desperately frustrated to the point of breaking his punishment.

Vaggie, how could he get her? Hide that precious spear of hers in a place she could never reach, stash it away in the shadows? Maybe shear off a good chunk of that long hair of hers with his claws?

Hmm, decisions, decisions…

His ears twitched again and the shadow glanced down, eyes glowing brighter when he noticed the little creatures cheerfully moving past him and towards the first stair.

Right, these are the pets(?) of the second resident of the hotel – the snake man, the shadow did not know his name because it seemed his Master did not bother to remember it, even after the snake managed to rip a piece of his Master’s coat off.

Well, they were the pets of that snake.

The shadow nonchalantly kicked the first Egg Boi, watching with sadistic pleasure as its fellow Egg Boiz panicked when their companion cracked wide open in the middle of the staircase. 

“Where have you gone off to, my little sssssweetssss?” 

The shadow stood, grinning at the scene before disappearing into the darkness just as Sir Pentious slithered towards the staircase. 

He heard the snake screech in horror before vanishing completely.

~00~

“In and out.”

His shadow whined, using all its willpower to not look in the direction of the bed where it knows you are sleeping. This is the closest it has been to you in a few days and it took almost everything out of it to not just jump into that bed and cuddle up into your side and curl around you.

“I’ve been getting complaints about you.” Alastor eyed his shadow before turning his attention to the pile of corpses gathered at his door. “Husk told me you sabotaged all of his alcohol and that snake fellow said you killed one of those egg creatures.”

The shadow chittered.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I don’t care. As long as you avoid Charlie, do as you please. If you do target Vaggie at some point, do go a bit lighter on her. Charlie may get angry at me on Vaggie’s behalf and I can’t have that.” He paused for a moment to listen to his shadow chirp and titter. “I don’t know, this is your project.” Alastor shrugged, ignoring the glare his shadow was giving him. “Steal her hair ribbon or such.”

His shadow’s chitters stopped and Alastor assumed that was exactly what it was going to do the next day.

“You have been quite active today, I see.” Alastor turned back to the corpses. “Much more than we need, but I suppose it's fine. Rosie is always in need of more meat.” His smile darkened and he turned to your sleeping form in the bed, casting a spell to make sure you stay asleep. He didn't want you waking up to the unpleasant sight of mangled corpses. “It's a good way to let off steam.”

His shadow let out a noise of agreement.

“Now then, let's get this meat into the bayou dimension. Hmm, it seems you even snagged a worker of that insufferable Vox. I do wonder how they will taste?”

You stayed sound asleep.

~00~

“Have you seen it?”

You feel Vaggie's grip around your arms tighten and you sigh. “No, I'm sorry, I haven't.” You answer. “But I can help you look.” You offer.

“Are you sure?” Vaggie's expression is a mixture of panic, suspicion, and anger. “I know Alastor has been playing his weird sadistic little games with us lately and I really don't think you're doing anything yourself, but I know you would choose him in a heartbeat over us.”

“I…” You are taken back by the amount of vitriol in Vaggie's voice. “I really had nothing to do with this.” You said firmly, causing Vaggie to rub at her hair in exasperation – something she's clearly been doing all day judging by how unruly it is.

“Are you two fighting?” Vaggie asked after clearing her throat and the panic disappeared from her face and voice. 

That ribbon must be very important to her if she's acting like this.

“No.” You murmured, having a feeling of where Vaggie’s ribbon might have vanished to. “But I think I am a part of the problem here.” Your proceeding smile is shaky. “I'll help you find your ribbon.”

“I-it was Charlie's first gift to me.” Vaggie looked forlorn for a second. “I know it sounds stupid to be attached to something that can be so easily replaced, but–”

“It's not stupid.” You cut Vaggie off. “It's not stupid at all. You love Charlie, you love every and any little thing she does for you, gets for you. I understand that.”

Vaggie smiled softly, nodding before her eye widened and she looked at you closely. “Y/N, Alastor, he… he isn't like Charlie–”

“Love is irrational sometimes.” You've heard this speech enough times already. “I know what Alastor is, what he's done. But he's never done anything to hurt me and he protected me even before our relationship began, all without asking for a single thing in return. I give what I can willingly and happily.”

Yeah, Alastor may have asked for your soul a few times, but he never seemed angered or upset that you turned him down nor did he incessantly pester you about it.

It's just how Overlords worked, you figured.

Vaggie stared in disbelief, not sure if you were even speaking about the Radio Demon anymore.

“Let's split up to look for your ribbon.” If your guess was right, you really did not want Vaggie there to see. “Is that okay?”

“Oh, yeah, that's fine.” Vaggie snapped out of her stupor. “I've already searched my and Charlie's room. And Charlie is looking in the main room. Maybe I left it in with my dirty clothes?” Vaggie muttered to herself. “I think I'll go check the laundry room. You can look anywhere you like.” She began towards the laundry room, but stopped a moment later. “Hey, Y/N. Thanks.” 

You watched as Vaggie practically sprinted off in her chosen direction and smiled. “Of course.”

You had a buck and his shadow to find.

~00~

“Quite the accusation, Darling.”

Your fingers scratched your cheek and you looked away. “I know you didn't steal Vaggie's ribbon.” You said. “But I know Shadowy has been causing problems for the past couple of days. Shadowy has Vaggie's ribbon, right?” It takes only one look at Alastor's tight grin to know you are correct. “Just let me see Shadowy if he's causing all these problems!”

“I will not tolerate disobedience.” Alastor retorted. “My shadow had one simple order and it did not follow it. There are consequences for that. And it seems there are side effects to the consequence I have put in place. It may not be ‘fun’ for the others to deal with, but they are harmless in the long run.”

“Husk was going through withdrawals.” You frown. “And one of Sir Pentious’ Egg Boiz, you know, cracked open, so I assume that must mean it's dead.”

“We are in Hell, my dearest Doe. While I'm sure withdrawals are quite unpleasant to experience, Husk won't die from them.” Alastor moved closer to you. “As for the egg creature, many have already ‘died’ in my previous… ‘engagements’ with that snake fellow, yet he is never without them. I'm sure he has a source of some sort for those egg creatures.”

“Okay, I get that Shadowy is frustrated? Angry? But why are you letting him do it all here?” You ask with a sigh.

“Of course I allow my shadow to go out and about, but I still do need it close by, so it may only go into the city for a few hours at a time in a limited range. If I need to, I can call it back quickly should something unlikely occur, such as the hotel coming under attack.”

Sometimes, Alastor’s thoughts were beyond you and this punishment for his own shadow seemed a bit excessive.

“Just… just tell Shadowy to give Vaggie back her ribbon in the same shape it was in. It's very important to her, all right? Please, please don't let him rip it!” You plead.

Alastor's ears twitch at your tone and his tense smile turns into something wicked. “And what would you do to ensure that would happen, dearest?”

You blink and then gape at him for a second. “I–” This situation was odd, but ultimately, you are at the centre of it and if all you needed to do was have sex with your lover to get Vaggie's ribbon back, then of course you would do it.

(Maybe you could squeeze out a few bleats too~)

~00~

He stared at the mirror, tying the ribbon on various parts of his body, wondering if you would like it.

First, around his neck. His Master wore something like this everyday, so he was sure you would like this too.

Second, around his ear. It was cute, right? You liked cute things. You had called him ‘cute’ many times before. 

‘Do not damage that ribbon in any way. If you do, I will extend your punishment. Bring that ribbon back to me.’

His Master's voice sounded in his head and the shadow whined at the thought of not seeing you beyond the allotted time.

He carefully untied the ribbon from his ear, making sure not to rip it with his claws. He let out a huff, dissatisfied that his ‘prank’ was already over and that he would have to move on to something else.

Should he slaughter more Sinners – go out and find more of Vox's employees and risk getting caught doing so? What would Vox even do in retaliation? Sing his pissy little song about his Master again on that awful picture box?

It sounded much more fun than pranking Niffty, who didn't seem like he would get an entertaining reaction from.

He could switch her bleach with water – but that was boring, he already did something similar with Husk and it's not like he could watch and snicker cruelly at Niffty afterwards since she wouldn't suffer from withdrawals. She might briefly huff and pout, but that would probably be the extent of it.

She was already quite deranged, she would more than likely enjoy anything he could think of and he didn't want anyone to enjoy anything until he could see and cuddle up to you again.

He still wanted to avoid Angel Dust and besides, the adult picture show actor wasn't even at the hotel to begin with. He didn't care where the spider was, but he was probably at work with that other Vee.

He could always mess with Angel Dust's room, tear it to shreds before the spider arrived back, but that meant stepping into it and the thought of all those disgusting sex fluids that still covered the surfaces of that room, just unseen to the naked eye, was enough to put a halt on that idea.

No, the only sex fluid he (and his Master) would ever partake in is your slick and the very thought had him salivating and his tail wagging.

But before he could get lost in his arousing thoughts, he had to get this ribbon back to his Master before he accidentally ruined it.

~00~

You have to wonder.

Did Alastor go out of his way to drive you out of your coherent fucking mind or was he just malevolent enough to come up with these nasty ideas right on the spot?

Probably a little bit of both.

“NO!” You sob, arms struggling against their restraints and legs kicking out uselessly as you were denied your orgasm yet again - what was that, the third time now? “No, hah! Please, Alastor!” You were literally dripping now, slick oozing down your thighs to stain the sheets below.

You could be embarrassed about it later.

“Hmm, I must say, I do enjoy the sound of your begging, it’s always pleasing to my ears.” Alastor pulled his staff back, hovering the microphone just over your quivering folds, but not quite touching. “It’s lovely. Won’t you keep it up, Darling?”

Oh fuck, keep it up? How many more orgasms was he going to ruin?

“H-how else…?” You slurred, feeling your head snap back when the microphone starts vibrating once again against your sensitized clit. You barely feel the pain when the back of your head bangs against the headboard of the bed since it only adds to the light-headed feeling swirling around your mushy brain. “–should I b-be begging?”

You can only say please so many times, doesn’t Alastor get tired of it?

Alastor tapped his fingers against the shaft of his microphone staff, eyeing you for a moment to make sure you didn’t accidentally concuss yourself. He may be a bit of a sadist, but not so much as to cause permanent damage to his precious doe. “Oh dear, have you lost the ability to speak? Surely you can do better than that?”

“Nngh!” A strange sound erupted from your mouth and your vision was swimming. “C-can I cum?” Finally, words are forming and you gasp when the vibrations against your cunt seem to intensify. “Please, let me cum, Alastor!”

“I suppose you can. You’ve been a good girl tonight.” Alastor cooed, knowing he had to wrap things up a little quicker than he would like because he could sense his shadow was close and honestly, it just might out right disobey him again if it sees you like this. “Go on then. Cum.” He reached over, tracing over your slick folds before sliding two fingers into you smoothly because of how wet you are.

You tremble, feeling Alastor’s fingers press against that sensitive spot inside you, hitting it again and again with precision while holding his microphone on your small bundle of nerves. “A-ah!” Your eyes rolled back and your slippery walls clamp down around Alastor’s fingers, but he doesn’t stop, working you through your orgasm until it starts to become painful, “Oh… no, no more…”

The vibrations of his microphone slow down gradually when your hips try to shift away and Alastor is still casually bumping his fingers against that responsive little spot, allowing the tentacles restraining your arms to retract from the headboard. He finally pulls away from you and you let out a little breath. “Do you need anything, dearest?”

You collapse against the bed, grimacing at the sticky feeling between your legs, but you’re not in the mood for a bath. Your body and mind were buzzing pleasantly with endorphins and your eyes looked up to Alastor and your mouth opened before your brain could really think of what you were actually saying.

Honestly, he should like it, he really should! He loved those cringey puns and dad jokes and other than his mug and referring to you as a doe (which wasn’t a joke to him), Alastor really seemed to stay clear from any deer puns.

“Nope, I feel like a million ‘bucks’!”

It seemed to take a moment for him and his grin twitched on one side, static dying down for a second and he seemed to let out a sigh.

“Quite…amusing, Darling.”

~00~

He was bitter, furious.

Was his Master torturing him? Trying to get him to deliberately disobey him? Why would his Master call him back, end his prank – his current amusement – only to be wrapped up in you, when he wasn’t allowed to be? His Master’s emotions were his as well and stronger ones like desire wreaked havoc on a being like him.

He growled, stalking towards the exit of the hotel, ears flat against his head when he spotted Charlie. He made a beeline for her, causing her to gasp in surprise at the sight of him and take a step back.

He let out a huff, not even allowing her to say anything as he threw the ribbon at her feet before he disappeared into the floor, speeding out of sight before anger could take hold of him and he did something he couldn’t take back.

“T-thank you?” Charlie was confused by the strange occurrence, but grateful all the same. She picked up the ribbon and smiled widely, hugging it against her chest. 

She knew that Vaggie had told you about the lost ribbon, so maybe you had told Alastor and he actually decided to help for once? And for something that he would deem so unimportant and beneath him? Even if he only used his shadow to help, it was a big step forward.

Maybe there was hope for him? 

Probably not, but you really did bring a softer side out of him and it always brightened her day seeing you and Alastor together.

Who would have thought the Radio Demon would ever find love?

~00~

There was a commotion outside.

“What now?” Angel Dust groaned from the bar, slamming back his drink and he winced when he moved in the wrong way. Val had really been doing a number on him lately and he wasn’t in the mood for any weird shit.

He was already on guard for that creepy shadow since Husk and Vaggie already warned him and he had told Cherri Bomb to stay away for a few days since he just needed some nice R&R, so who the hell was it now?

“I know that fucking voice.” Husk scowled. “What the fuck is she doing here? She knows she’s not welcome here.” Well, it would be only a matter of a few minutes before Alastor noticed, if he hadn’t already, and she would be sent on her way – or better yet, shut up permanently for coming back to the hotel.

“Ya can’t mean…?” Angel lifted his head as Husk rolled his eyes before shrugging. “She’s not that stupid, right? Smiles told her right to her face not to come back.”

“She was involved in the Boss’ life when they were alive, how smart could she possibly be?” Husk grunted and Angel’s brow rose at the unintentional insult to you. “Well, no offense to Y/N. Boss actually seems to care about her, as unlikely as it is.”

“You serious? Smiles is head over heels for Y/N! But I get it, you got a bias against the guy, for a good reason. I don’t blame ya if you can’t see it.” Angel let out a laugh at Husk’s glare. “Hey, it just means we don’t have to worry about Smiles paying attention to us as much when it's all directed to Dollface.”

“Is that so, my effeminate fellow?”

Angel jumped in surprise, nearly falling off the bar stool as Alastor and you rose up from a void of black through the floor right behind him. “You’re gonna give someone a heart attack doing that!” 

“Interesting method, but not efficient or quick enough. I think I’d rather just rip the heart straight from the che–” Alastor glanced down when you put your hand on his shoulder.

“I think what Angel means is that you scared him by appearing behind him so suddenly.” You explain with an affectionate grin, seeing the relieved look Angel is sending you. “Anyway, is she really…?”

“She always was a bullheaded woman.” Alastor’s smile is tight and his fangs are gritting. “But the absolute audacity to show up here after I explicitly told her she’s not welcome.” He closed his eyes and let out a calming breath before opening them again. “Well, I suppose I should see what she wants. Darling, stay close to me.”

Alastor gestured you to follow him and you did so, stepping past the front doors of the hotel to see why the commotion was even happening to begin with.

Why was Mimzy, of all Sinners, here?

“I ain't leaving until Alastor shows his face!” Mimzy snarled impressively, flanked by two bulky shark demons on each of her side. “I know he's here!”

 It seemed she hadn't learned her lesson yet about getting tangled in the world of loan sharks, which was that much more dangerous in Hell.

“He told you to stay away!” Vaggie had her weapon at the ready, prepared to strike at any sudden movements. “You almost destroyed the hotel last time you showed up. I'm not going to let you do it again.”

Charlie flailed a bit, glancing between Vaggie and Mimzy while wringing her hands. She wasn't particularly happy to see Mimzy again, but if Mimzy wanted her shot at redemption, Charlie certainly couldn't deny her that.

“Mimzy! What a pleasure to see you again!” Alastor’s cheerful voice cut in, but his expression told a completely different story as his pupils slowly began to shift into radio dials. “I believe I told you t͓̰̹̣ͨ̈́̿o̭̞̗͍ͦ̾ n̷͇͈̎̉̌͘ê̢̼̱̝v̻͔̆ẻ͇̊ṟ͆ͪͧ s͑͗h̸̪̋ͯ́o̥̘w͒̆̕ y̢͚o̘͎͔̪̒ͦ̿u̖ṟ̥̤̆ͭ͜͠ f̘á̯ͪ̔͋c̻̽̂ͬ͒͜e̶̳͑ͤͦ́ͅ ĥ͟e̋r̰̬̹̀̾͞e ǎ̞g̏ͭa͂ǐn̰̱̓ͩ͡.”

“Heh, believe me, I don't wanna be here either.” Mimzy huffed, crossing her arms under her ample bosom. Her eyes drifted to you and her brow rose in surprise. “You're still around? Huh, thought Alastor would've dropped you like a hot potato by now.”

Charlie immediately recoiled back and Vaggie almost slapped her own face at the utterly stupid and probable life-ending words coming from Mimzy's big mouth.

You really didn't have much of a reaction, you didn't need to.

Alastor’s head tilted at an unnatural angle, accompanied with a loud disturbing snapping noise. “You come here, to the hotel under my protection, as an unwelcome guest, and then proceed to insult my mate not only in front of me, but to her as well?” His eyes were beginning to black out and his antlers were growing rapidly.

Mimzy now seemed to realize her mistake and took a step back, trying to look smaller and hide behind her two lackeys, who were also visibly panicking, “I didn't mean anything by it, I swear! C'mon, Al, I'm just going by what I know! When we were livin’, you never had a woman on your arm for more than a single night! A-and even then, you never took them to your home!”

Alastor barely registered Mimzy's words, but his rage became manageable when you placed a comforting hand on his arm. “Just hear her out?” You asked. “If you kill her, you might regret it later. You were friends in life, right?”

“More so business partners than anything else.” Alastor answered under his breath. “We exchanged favours. We benefited from each other. I can't say it was anything more than that.”

“I’m…I’m sure she has some good reason for showing up here.” You sigh, though you were not very convinced of your own words. You had no real idea what to think of Mimzy and her last appearance at the hotel hadn’t exactly raised your opinion of her.

That, and she had subtly insulted you by calling you ‘Plain Jane Doe’ and that you were not even near the league of beauties that Alastor associated with, drank and danced the night away with at the speakeasy Mimzy ran back when they were alive. Of course she had done so while Alastor was out of earshot.

But still, on one hand, she was an acquaintance of Alastor’s, one he seemed a little more friendly with than most. On the other hand, Husk had outright warned you Mimzy only showed up when she needed Alastor to help her out of whatever hole she had dug herself into and it seemed she had done so often enough in the past that she simply expected it, that Alastor would ‘take care of her’.

“Oh, it’s a pretty damn good reason, sugar.” Mimzy’s panic quickly turned to annoyance once she remembered the reason she had bothered to come to the hotel. “Alastor, I know you can be petty, but I didn’t think you’d sink this low!” Her expression turned ugly. “Is it payback for the one time I came here?! Did it really bother you that much?! You can just use your hoodoo voodoo crap to magic it all back, can’t you!? Well, I can’t!”

“Err, what are you talking about?” Charlie asked reluctantly, seeing how upset Mimzy was, but none of them had a clue what she was referring to.

“My club!” Mimzy screeched. “Alastor sent his shadow to my club! And that thing destroyed it! Completely ruined it! Do you know how long it’ll take me to fix it back the way it was?!” Her hands curled into claws as she glared viciously at Alastor. “And that’s not the only thing it did!”

You stared wide-eyed at the blonde woman in disbelief.

“It ate ten of my contractees! Ten souls may be chump change for you, Alastor, but that’s a serious blow to me! I can’t believe you! I never thought you would turn on me like this!” Mimzy spat. 

Alastor returned to his regular form, his anger turning something more contemplative. If he were completely honest, he didn’t care how this affected Mimzy because, well, he had nothing to gain or lose in her situation. 

But this was also curious and vexing at the same time since he did not tell his shadow to do such a thing and an action like this was far beyond its familiar activities.

If he left his shadow to its own devices for longer than he intended, what else would it do? Was it that outraged it couldn’t see you it needed to scatter destruction wherever it went?

Well, he couldn’t blame his shadow, he couldn’t exactly say what his actions would be if he were to be suddenly separated from you, but he knew they wouldn’t be pretty.

“I believe you’re well aware of the type of relationship we truly have, Mimzy.” Alastor didn’t exactly want to admit in front of others that his shadow was briefly out of his control for a time. “Give and take. Tit for tat. However you wish to word it. Here in Hell, I have given you much, much more than I have taken. How many times have I saved you from your own foolishness?” Alastor gave an obvious look to the loan sharks still by Mimzy’s side. “And you refuse to learn from it. You can think of this as retribution if you want. Tell me, what would I gain if I chose to help you this time?”

You gave Alastor a look of dismay, but you weren’t surprised.

Mimzy ground her teeth. “Huh, fine. Guess we’re even then. I do a little damage to your shithole hotel, which you can fix with a snap of your fingers and you total my club, which will take me weeks, maybe months to fix.” She turned to the car waiting for her and the loan sharks followed after her. “Got it, Alastor. Your little squeeze there is more important than a decades-long partnership.”

With that, she was gone from the hotel.

“W-well, that was something!” Charlie laughed uncomfortably, breaking the tense silence and was about to say more, but slammed her mouth shut when Vaggie shook her head at her. “L-let’s just head back.” She muttered.

The short trek back was just as tense.

“What the fuck did she want?” Husk asked as soon as he caught sight of everyone. “She’s not coming back again, right?”

“I should think not.” Alastor answered. “I believe I drew a very clear line this time. I’m sure Mimzy will be busy for quite a while and won’t have the time to think of our humble hotel here.”

“Good.” Husk simply said, shrugging. “That bitch was never good news. Glad you finally see what I've always seen, Boss.” He ignored Angel’s snickers from the bar.

“Alastor,” You bit your lip nervously, catching his attention as he glanced towards you, a knowing look in his eyes. “Can I talk to you?”

Alastor said nothing, he just put his hand on your shoulder and you both were travelling through his shadows and to your shared room.

What a conversation this was going to be.

~00~

“You’ve been quite the help!”

The shadow let out a chirp, but barely felt the satisfaction it used to feel when Rosie praised him in the past for delivering her any extra meat he and his Master had on their hands. 

He wanted to see you.

But he still had three days to go and he had no idea this was possible for a supernatural being like him, but he felt like he was losing what little rationality he had. 

It was surprising he hadn’t felt his Master call for him yet, he had to have heard what he had done to Mimzy’s club by now, but he was going to do whatever he could to keep his desire suppressed as best as he could.

Bloodlust and a penchant for violence was a good way to go.

And going back to the hotel now – he would, without a doubt, disobey his orders and that wouldn’t be good.

Or would it?

Maybe he could somehow catch you alone, bask in your presence, regain some of his sanity, and attempt to tell you about his Master’s tail. His Master wouldn’t be happy and his punishment would probably be extended, but getting them over with all at once sounded better than them being spread out.

The secret about his tail was coming out one way or another.

Maybe he could somehow compromise with his Master – maybe he could only see you when you’re sleeping? He wouldn’t touch you, of course not! He’d just watch you from a distance, just having you in sight and your scent nearby was good enough for him.

“I have to say, this is quite the haul!” Rosie’s voice broke him out of his thoughts. “It’s not like Alastor to overindulge like this at all. He has a distaste for wasting food.” Rosie tilted her head thoughtfully. “And I don’t believe the rutting season doesn’t start for a few more months, so that can’t be it.”

Rosie wasn't complaining, was she?

“I am ever so grateful of course, do not get me wrong.” Rosie seemed to notice the downright ominous scowl on his face, though she did not seem frightened in the least. “For your troubles, I’m more than happy to give you any choice of your preferred meat. Any cut you like! I believe I even received some venison this morning!” She tempted him with a grin.

His ears perked up, teetering on the choice whether to accept Rosie’s offer or not. He had already gotten his fill earlier – it had been rather satisfying devouring those insignificant lackeys under Mimzy’s control right in front of her while she couldn’t do a thing about it – but Sinner venison wasn’t particularly common in Hell and it was something his Master could only indulge in once in a while.

Could he use it to bargain?

He nodded eagerly and Rosie’s grin grew wider, as if she expected his answer. “Of course, of course! I did save it for Alastor after all. Wait here for a moment. I even have it packed up and ready to go. Plus a little sample for your help~”

It only took a few moments and Rosie was handing him a package and a few bite-sized pieces of raw venison. He took them with a pleased chitter and her fangs seemed to sparkle at him. “I always appreciate your deliveries, it’s always a great help! I look forward to seeing Alastor and dear Y/N at our next lunch date. One of these days we’ll manage to get her to at least nibble on a ladyfinger.” She joked, not hearing the soft whimper he allowed to escape from him at the sound of your name.

Hopefully his Master was craving deer.

~00~

Alastor stared at you expectantly.

It frustrated you a bit. “Don’t you think this has gone on long enough?” You finally said, seeing that he wasn’t going to say anything and fully expected you to initiate the conversation – he probably didn’t even see the need for a conversation and that made you a little upset.

“I do not. A week has not fully passed. Punishments are given for a reason, are they not? My shadow did not heed my command. I can’t have that.” Alastor answered as if it were already obvious.

“It’s just me, me! Your shadow did that because it likes me, because you feel something for me, or I at least I hope you do. You know I’m not going to tell anyone that you–you might bleat because your ears become extra sensitive or whatever goes on! I don’t really know much about deer biology– do you even follow deer biology? I-I just know I really, really like it when you do bleat because it–”

Damn it, you were fucking rambling nonsense and becoming totally off track.

Alastor’s brow rose, but he said nothing and just let you rant.

“No, no, I mean, uh…” You licked your lips nervously and your face was burning, but you ignored it. “Well, I do mean that, but really, even if you didn’t care if anyone else knew, I-I wouldn’t… wouldn’t…” You trailed off. 

You wouldn’t tell anyone anyway because, well, you wanted it – you wanted those bleats to belong solely to you.

Was that awful of you?

“Err, anyway, Shadowy seems to be escalating with each day. It was contained in the hotel at first, and even then, the pranks seemed a little more… cruel than usual. But with Mimzy, that… that’s completely– I don’t even know!” You shook your head. “Especially since you didn’t order it to do that! What’s next if you don’t stop this now? It attacks the Vees?!”

You were breathing a little harder now.

“Do you feel better now, Darling?” Alastor reached out and stroked a finger down the side of your face, feeling how heated your skin had become even through his glove. “It seems you had a lot on your mind for quite a while now.”

“Are you… are you going to call Shadowy back now?” You asked hopefully, glad that Alastor didn’t tease you for your rambling, but the situation seemed a little too serious for that now.

“I believe it’s coming back on its own.” Alastor answered. “But I cannot let up on its punishment.” He wasn’t surprised by your absolutely disappointed expression. “This is unexpected even to me. I never had given a thought to Mimzy since I had banned her from the hotel, so why did my shadow display such aggression against her? I have to admit, it’s very interesting to me as to what else it may do, but despite that, surely you must understand?”

You furrowed your brows.

“I am still an Overlord, dearest, the Radio Demon. If it gets out that I cannot control my own shadow, how would the souls I own react? It might make for an amusing broadcast, but I can’t have my pawns thinking they can rebel against me. Enough souls are lost during the Extermination, I would rather not add to that count myself.”

“T-that’s a fair point.” You certainly could see Alastor’s side, but why he was still letting his shadow run around freely was not something you could understand. “Maybe just five minutes? Two? Even a minute? Even thirty seconds? I… please let me see Shadowy for just a second so he doesn’t do something completely insane!”

“Three more days. I don’t think Hell will fall because my shadow refuses to behave.” Alastor observed as your disappointment deepened even further and you sighed. “But I will keep it on a tighter leash. It won’t be allowed anywhere near the Vees and their territory if that will ease your mind.”

“I, yeah, that’s good.” You just felt bad, horrible that these things were happening simply because Shadowy couldn’t see you and maybe Alastor’s reasons were reasonable in his eyes considering his position, but you still felt awful. “If you don’t mind, can I sleep in my old room tonight?”

“You needn’t ask my permission, my dear Doe.” Alastor’s smile grew tight, but nothing else gave away any displeasure. “Of course, you are welcome back at any time. You have no need to knock, this is our room after all.”

You nodded. “Thanks, that… that really means a lot to me.” You stepped up to him and he bent down out of habit, causing you to briefly smile. “I sorta get where you’re coming from. You’ve got your position to maintain.” You stepped on your toes to kiss Alastor’s cheek where his smile hadn’t managed to stretch. “But I don’t know, try to look from Shadowy’s view?” You stepped back from him and towards the door. “Goodnight, Alastor. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The static was deafening.

~00~

“My my, what brings you back?”

His shadow chittered just as nonchalantly as Alastor appeared before glancing around the room, ears dropping when you clearly were not there, though that should have been expected.

“You have a captive audience in me. I would like to know, why did you attack Mimzy as you did?” Alastor asked, causing his shadow to bristle at him and he couldn’t help but to chuckle almost darkly. “Oh, fear not. I am not angered by your admittedly odd actions. In fact, they are almost intriguing in how… erratic they are.”

His shadow huffed before it went on a rant of growls, chirps, and snarls and Alastor listened patiently until it was finished.

“You went after Mimzy because she insulted my precious Doe while I was giving that little dead-beat king a tour and this was your opportunity to do so freely, is that what you’re telling me?” Alastor could feel his form shifting once again because of Mimzy and he was not sure his rage could be quelled this time around. “W̯͚̼̓͋͑h̰͕ͤ͊̈́͘ỹ̗ ẅ͉̚͝a͔͆ͅs͍͕͈̏̆̈́̐ Ỉ n̹̳͒̐o͟ț͍̰̆̌ i̲̳ͥn͌̃͊_f̵̝̣̭̣o̝̙ͣͯ̂r̗̰͑̌̚med̸ͦ͆ o̮ͮf t̗̰h̬̅͛i̵̥̅͋s?͈͘͢”

His shadow tittered, causing Alastor to stop in his transformation. He closed his eyes, willing himself back to his normal form and took a breath. “Darling begged you not to tell me?” He wanted to shake his head at your naivete – sometimes he even wondered why you were in Hell to begin with. “She didn’t want me breaking my friendship with Mimzy over a mere insult?”

Oh, his dearest Doe still had much to learn it seemed and he was more than happy to teach you.

“I suppose it’s a good start for now.” Alastor grinned wickedly. “Once Mimzy rebuilds her club, we can proceed from there.” His expression then returned to its usual one. “Our dearest is worried about you,” He watched as his shadow’s ears immediately perked and there was somehow a tinge of red on its blackened face. “You are not allowed anywhere near the Vees or allowed to take a single step in their territory, am I clear?”

His shadow nodded and Alastor was satisfied, knowing it would not break this restriction. He glanced up when his shadow reached into his own body, pulling out a package from a void and Alastor’s ears stood straight up as soon as the smell hit him.

Venison.

And not just that.

Venison from a Sinner.

“A gift from Rosie, I assume?” Alastor asked casually, narrowing his eyes when his shadow did not hand over the meat right away like it normally would have done. “I suppose I can at least hear you out.”

His shadow gripped the venison tightly before chittering and chirping, tittering and whining, giving his Master his side of the story. If his Master could not agree, he would just burn this venison to ash (even if that was just such a waste).

Alastor could feel the drool run down his fangs as he stared intently at the package held in his shadow’s hands. Venison from Sinners was rare since deer demons themselves were scarce. Most deer and other prey-based demons were simply killed within minutes of waking up in Hell since they were considered easier targets, and so, the deer demon population was small and only getting smaller.

Sinner venison was a luxury nowadays, even for an Overlord like him. He usually had to make due with just regular venison (though you enjoyed it well enough).

But was it a luxury worth his authority over his shadow?

His shadow whimpered and whined, sniveling and Alastor thought back to your words for a moment, ‘to look from Shadowy’s view’, before his ears flattened briefly and he let out a sigh. “All right. The venison is mine and you get five minutes and only five minutes.” He turned when his shadow let out a happy purr and threw him the package of venison before disappearing into the floor and streaking out of the room in a flash.

Alastor shook his head, grabbing the packaged venison before he moved toward his bayou dimension, needing some fresh air to think and clear his head of what had just happened.

“I’m growing soft.”

~00~

You couldn’t sleep.

You tossed and turned before letting out a defeated noise as you sat up in the bed. Were you really that pathetic? That you couldn’t sleep without Alastor around in the room?

No, no, it wasn’t that, the guilt of it all was getting to you – Husk suffering withdrawals, the death(?) of one of Sir Pentious Egg Boiz, and Vaggie’s ribbon. Luckily, Charlie, Angel Dust, and Niffty were overlooked by Shadowy, but it was Mimzy that made you feel the worst.

You had mixed feelings about Mimzy, but having her club – her income – destroyed and ten of her owned souls just ripped away wasn’t something she deserved.

All of this was happening because of you, this was your fault.

You let out a ragged sigh, bringing your knees to your chest to lie your head on them, not noticing the big black shape streaking right under your door and towards your bed.

Cold arms wrapped around you and you jumped in fright, beginning to shout when a tendril covered your mouth before you could scream. A familiar purr rumbled in your ears and your panic slowly ebbed away in disbelief.

Did… did Alastor actually change his mind?

“Shadowy?” You whisper and he nodded enthusiastically against you, rubbing his face against your neck as he practically tried to climb into your lap with his much bigger body and failed rather miserably. “How? Did Alastor let you…?”

Shadowy nodded again and held out five fingers. “Five minutes?” You guessed and Shadowy let out a chirp. “It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.” You smiled. “I’ve missed you, Shadowy.”

“♡♡~” Shadowy made those heart eyes at you again, but then his ears perked straight up as if he remembered something important. You blinked, watching as Shadowy reluctantly left your warmth and moved towards the little nightstand beside your bed, where an old radio had been placed.

“Oh, yeah, meant to bring that to the other room.” You muttered, not sure why Shadowy would be interested in the antique when time was short. You blink again when Shadowy pulls you closer to him and it hits you that he’s trying to tell you something like he did with the bleats. “A-are you sure? Alastor might get annoyed again.”

Shadowy shook his head, simply tapping the radio and it turned on, much to your amazement (though he is a part of the Radio Demon, what did you expect?) and he reached out to you, grabbing your hand and curling your fingers around his tail.

“Y-you want me to pet your tail!?” You blanched, paling at the thought. You had never touched Alastor’s tail even outside of the bedroom, you knew it was a trait that he absolutely loathed about himself.

Hell, he had even confided in you (the one and only time you had ever seen him drunk, even if it was mildly so) that he had attempted to cut off his own tail numerous times back in his early days, only for it to grow back the next day like nothing happened.

You were probably the very, very few who even knew he had a tail to begin with. Even his shadow didn't show his tail when others were around and typically only let it emerge around you as a form of communication.

And Shadowy wanted you to touch Alastor’s tail?! During sex at that?! 

Shadowy wrapped his cold hand over yours, making sure you had a firm grip on his tail and he tugged, and you snapped your head to look at his face. “You… you bleated again. Is this just another way to get you both to bleat?”

Shadowy pointed to himself and directed you to tug his tail again, which you did curiously. Your face must be turning red when Shadowy let out that cute little noise again. He then patted both hands on his chest and used his thumb to point directly at himself.

“Are you saying only you bleat when your tail is pulled and that… that Alastor reacts differently?” You are almost crushed against the bed when Shadowy happily leaps on you, tail wagging furiously. “Do you know how Alastor reacts?”

Of course it does, it's a literal part of him.

Shadowy moves closer to the radio, pulling you along with him. He gestured for you to grab his tail again and you reluctantly do so, firmly grasping it. He nodded and you tugged and just as you did that, you heard a bleat and Shadowy tapped the radio and the station it was set on changed.

What?

You tug again, hear that cute bleat, and the station changes again.

T-that can't be right…?!

“Why would you tell me this, Shadowy?!” You panic. “This is way beyond a bleat!” You tensed when you felt Shadowy’s hands on your shoulders before he pulled back. He cupped his hands, clumsily shaping them into a form of a heart and you let out a strange choked noise.

How many minutes have gone by? How many do you have left?

Shadowy is all over you, ripping off your sleeping bottoms when you're too slow for him. His claws hook into your panties and he drags them down your legs and throws them somewhere across the room.

“It has to be quick. Really quick.” You mumbled, your face burning when you feel Shadowy’s cold hands spread your legs. The anticipation has you started, but you're still not nearly wet enough for it to be comfortable.

Shadowy buries his face in your cunt, parting your folds with his fingers and keeping them spread as he laps around them a few times before moving to that fleshy little nub that seems to give you the most pleasure. He elongated his tongue, circling and flicking it before lightly tugging at your sensitive clit without reprieve.

“Fuck, oh fuck!” Your eyes are blurred with tears and your brain is going fuzzy, but you still reach down and grab onto Shadowy's ears. He purred at your touch, licking at you faster as he slid one finger towards your now soaking hole.

Your thighs squeeze around Shadowy’s head when he bleats as you squeeze his ears and you could probably just cum on the little vibrations alone – just a few more…

Oh shit!

‘How did he find that spot?’ You thought dazedly, feeling Shadowy’s finger jam repeatedly into that extra sensitive area among your velvety walls. He was still slurping away at you, releasing a vibrating bleat every time you remembered to squeeze his ears.

You came when a second finger poked down hard on that spot and you were seeing stars, clenching on Shadowy’s fingers and tongue as he released a few more bleats when you held onto his ears and did not let go. 

You sank back into the bed, muscles twitching in your legs when Shadowy kept on licking at you, determined to get every drop of slick it could possibly wring from your body. “P-please, ah, it's too much.” 

Shadowy finally pulled back, licking his lips of the last of your slick before he crawled to your side, placing a hand on the side of your face and letting out a concerned coo.

Again, your mouth is working before your brain is and you seriously wonder if those orgasms are frying your mind to mush.

“I love you, Shadowy, so ‘deerly’ much.”

Shadowy lets out a noise that suspiciously sounds like a groan.

~00~

Alastor was no longer hungry.

His venison would have to wait.

It had surprised him when he felt the radio he had given you turn on and quickly felt it was his shadow's doing.

His brow rose, wondering why his shadow was using his five minutes tinkering with a radio when it could be devouring you between your legs, but those thoughts are swiftly pushed away.

The station has changed.

He can hear his shadow bleating.

The station changed aga– 

Alastor's grin widens obscenely and stitches appear to hold his face together. He digs his claws into the nearest tree, almost ripping it down as his growing antlers stab right into the trunk and still continue to grow.

“Why would you tell me this, Shadowy?!” 

Alastor can hear your panicked voice through the radio and it serves to calm him down some. He rips his antlers from the tree and watches with satisfaction as it falls.

“This is way beyond a bleat!”

Very much so, Darling. 

His smile twitched in places, as if he were having trouble keeping it together, suddenly recalling what you said to him the night you had gotten him to bleat.

His shadow was a part of him. What he felt, it felt. Whatever he chose to push down, away, and to the back of his mind would end up expressed in his shadow freely, no matter how much he wished it weren't so.

Why?

Why in all the rings of Hell would he want to tell you this utterly pathetic thing about himself?

A bleat? Fine, you can have all the damn bleats you wanted, but this?

Did you really want to see him lose his composure – his control that badly?

(Or was it him? Did he want that???)

No, no – there was only one logical explanation for this and it made sense, it had to. You were his mate, after all. Mates tended to groom one another, didn't they?

He just wanted you to stroke his tail, that's it.

~00~

“Shadowy?”

It shouldn’t be surprising that Shadowy was gone, Alastor had only given him five minutes after all, but it was still a little disheartening to wake up to an empty room. You must have fallen asleep not long after your quick little tryst with your lover’s shadow – guilt eased somewhat, knowing that he wasn’t causing any trouble.

You stretched, giving a look at your ripped sleepwear and chucking them into the corner of the room. You would either have to throw them out or ask Alastor to fix them up with his magic and you definitely didn’t want to ask him that any time soon.

You flounder for a bit as you pull on some new clothes before ultimately deciding to head back to your shared room with Alastor. He did say you were welcome back at any time, right? There was no reason to be hesitating and if he was in a foul mood, you doubted he would even be there.

You took in a deep breath before opening the door, not needing a key as his magic recognized your presence and you slowly stepped in. “Alastor?” You called out, knowing he had to be here since you could hear the faint jazz playing in the background.

“Did you enjoy yourself last night?”

You almost jump when Alastor manifests behind you, feeling his hand stroke through your hair once as he waited for your answer. “I-I did.” You swallow. “I don’t know why you changed your mind, but thank you. Thank you so much, Alastor.” Your fingers are fidgeting. “Can I… can I do something for you?”

“That blasted shadow of mine is more cunning than I originally thought it to be. It came across something rare enough that even I had to think twice. How pesky it has become.” Alastor seemed more amused than anything and that had you relieved. “But also quite fascinating.”

Alastor is directing you to your shared bed.

“S-something rare?” You stammer a bit, not sure what Alastor has in mind. “What would that be?” You’re honestly curious about what it could be that he actually changed his mind, it had to be something pretty valuable for him to even consider doing so.

“Nothing you would be interested in.” Alastor answered offhandedly. “I must admit, I am bothered by something my shadow told me last night.” He pushed you lightly onto the bed and before you could fully comprehend his words, he was already in the bed with you, head settled in your lap. “However, I shall forgive you should you forget what you learned last night. Focus yourself on my bleats instead. You believe them to be ‘cute’, correct?”

Bothered? 

What was he bothered by? What did his shadow tell him?

How could you possibly forget about his tail?

“Can I ask what?” Your hands shake a bit as they trace the shape of Alastor’s soft ears and there is no bleating, Alastor can control those sounds in a normal state. After a moment, your strokes become more firm and his ears droop a little in response. “I do think your bleats are cute, though.” You quickly say under your breath.

“Hmm, ‘Plain Jane Doe’, is it?”

Ah, damn it!

“You heard Mimzy, she said she meant nothing by it!” You accidentally squeeze down on Alastor’s ears, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care as his red eyes stare a hole into you. “It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Alastor had called you his mate and that made you happy.

That’s all you could ask for and who cares what Mimzy thought?

“There may have been a bit of truth to what Mimzy said.” Alastor admitted. “I did accompany women to Mimzy’s speakeasy for a dance and drink. I did it to boost my appearance, to look like a normal man. Presenting myself as ‘normal’ is how I got away with killing for as long as I did.” He glanced up to you to see your attentive gaze. 

It wasn’t often he spoke of his mortal life, after all.

“Mimzy does have a way with twisting words. ‘Jane Doe’ is a name for an unidentified female victim, isn’t it? She very well knows I never killed a woman as a human. I do wonder if all that alcohol has ravaged any wit she has left. Ṯ̡͒o͂͟ i͔̰̓̑̊m̨̫͈͑ṗ͙̓ḷ̴ͤ̍͟y̡̥̹̌ I̋ͣ w͐͌͋o̡͙̮͚ͥ̉uͭl̛̤ͧ̐̔͞d̙̖ m̪u͊̾͆r͉̹̘̈́̐̀d̵͍̂͜͠é̪ͤͩ͢ȑ m̻ͤ̌͗͝ͅy̸͇ͩ o̠̠͈ͥͭ̀̚w̶͕̚ṋ̽ m̂a̴t̶̹͌̅è͈͉?”

He was getting angry again at the thought of Mimzy.

You smiled, feeling your face grow warm and you couldn’t help but to feel giddy and Alastor’s smile twitched, not sure what your reaction was.

“I’m sorry!” Your smile was blissful and your hands were back at stroking his ears. “I’m just so happy… that you consider me your mate!” Your face must be completely red by now, but you just feel like you’re floating on clouds. “You’re my mate too, Alastor! I-if you want me…”

Your answer was a bleat.

Your head snapped down to look at Alastor, whose eyes were closed, there seemed to be a red tinge to his skin, and his smile was wonky and twitchy, looking as though it was taking everything out of him to keep it a smile.

You say nothing and keep on petting his ears, hearing those soft bleats every once in a while as you tangle your hands in his hair near his antlers. You gave them an experimental stroke, but there is no reaction, much to your disappointment.

“You would have to wait until rutting season for that.” Alastor’s eyes open and he sits up from your lap. “I do believe my previous bother is no longer a bother to me anymore.” He turns to you. “Well done, Darling.”

“Of course!” You’re still riding your little high. “I’ll touch your ears anytime!” You wanted to add to that, that you wanted to touch his tail too, but he wanted you to forget about that and you would.

For now at least.

-----

Taglist:

@chibistar45 @mo-0-o @sirens-and-moonflowers @ashdaidiot

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Eddie drunkenly calls Buck from wine night, confesses some things. On ao3 here.

Eddie calls him at 11:34 pm, and it’s a Thursday, so that means a few things. It’s wine night, the biggest thing. It’s wine night, at Hen and Karen’s, and he knows those start around dinner time so Eddie’s got several hours of alcohol in him. It’s 11:34 pm and Buck got off work at 10:45, another thing, so it’s a toss up whether Eddie timed the call to when he was walking through the door (a feat possible after years of going back and forth between the station, the loft, and the Diaz house at all times of day and night) or if it’s just a drunken coincidence.

“Hello,” Buck answers the phone, dragging out the first half of the word, tossing his keys into the bowl on the counter.

“Buck,” Eddie says, voice bright and not very slurred, but he’s only said one word so far, and Buck sometimes secretly thinks he could probably say his name pretty steadily no matter the situation. Buck is pretty sure he could be all drunk or half dead and still be able to say Eddie just fine, anyway. “Hello. Are you home from, did you get home from work?”

Ah, so, somewhat drunk then. “Did indeed. You still at the Wilsons?”

“Did you, uh- was there fire?” Eddie sounds like he’s trying very hard to sound normal. Buck bites his lip against a snort.

“No fires. Just a half shift, remember. Pretty boring one, honestly.” I missed you probably isn’t fair to say, Buck covered the shift of his own volition, he could have been at wine night if he really wanted. But Donovan’s sister had a baby, what was he gonna do, not let the guy meet his niece? “Hope you had a better time.”

“Great time,” Eddie says, enthusiastic. “They had, uh, mini quiches.”

Buck grins at the empty room. “You’re a man who loves a mini quiche.”

A few seconds of whooshy silence where Buck assumes Eddie is nodding enthusiastically. “The- uh- they had the bacon kind. The kind, and with the- you know, there’s spinach? Can we go to Costco?”

“Sure,” Buck agrees, opening his admittedly pretty sparsely populated fridge. “Could use a grocery run.”

“And get the, get more quiches?”

Buck grabs a protein bar, smiling as fondly as he wants to with no one around to see him. “Yeah, Eds, we’ll get more quiches.”

“And you’ll take the spinach ones? And I get the good ones?”

Buck laughs. “The spinach ones are good. You can barely even taste the spinach, they’re just, like, warm and eggy.”

“Mmm,” Eddie says, doubtfully. “It’s not nice to lie, Buckley.”

“I’m not fucking lying,” Buck cackles. “Your spinach hatred is so unfair, what’d it ever do to you?”

“Taste bad,” Eddie says, adding a blegh sound for emphasis. “It’s like- like- it’s gross, I don’t believe you actually like it, actually. You just want to eat grown up food.”

Buck snorts. “Man, I hate to break it to you, we both turn 34 this year.”

“And I don’t feel like I have to prove that to anybody by eating nasty food,” Eddie says, nose definitely in the air. Buck shakes his head and takes a bite of the protein bar.

“Whatever, man. You just have to live with the fact that Chris is the one sneaking vegetables into your food.”

“You’re so mean. I’m not letting you have any of my actually good quiches.” Empty threat, they always end up sharing, both of them know it. “That’s not even what I called about. That’s not even-“ Eddie huffs so hard it sounds all crackly in Buck’s ear. “I called to tell you that I love you.”

Buck grins. Oh boy, affectionate drunk Eddie is here. He’d wondered just how much wine they’d got through and it seems like Eddie must be nearly a bottle in. “Aw, love you too, bud.”

“No,” Eddie says, and Buck can see the frown from here. “Buck. Listen. I’m in love with you.”

Oh. God. Oh god. “Uh-“ Buck says, stomach swooping all over the fucking place, “Uh- I don’t think this is a conversation we should be having while you’re-“

“Oh, fuck off, shut up. Shut up. It’s fine.”

“Eddie-”

“Buck,” Eddie says, in the annoyed voice he uses when Buck is trying to get him to eat yogurt with his fruit in the morning, or even a dastardly spinach quiche. “It’s fine. It’s fine. I knew you’d- why- stop it. Listen. I feel like this all the time. It’s stupid that I’ve never, like, I never just say this all the time. You’re, like-”

Eddie cuts himself off and Buck waits — sort of fearfully — for him to continue, but the silence keeps stretching on. Buck knows the other side effect of this level on the Eddie Diaz Drunkenness Scale is heightened distractibility, so he probably noticed a nice color or perhaps a bug. They spent a good twenty minutes hanging out with a grasshopper at Hen and Karen’s wedding towards the end of the night, because it was a lovely shade of green and a funny little guy. Oh god, Buck thinks again. I love this man. I love this man a ridiculous amount and we should absolutely wait to talk about it.

But: “You’re tall and you’re in my house,” Eddie says before Buck can do anything to stop him.

“I’m-” Buck glances around the loft. “Eds, I’m at my place.”

“What?” He sounds so indignant that Buck has to cover his mouth to hold a laugh in. “Why?”

“‘Cause I live here?”

“That’s stupid. You should live with me in my house.”

“Should I?” Buck asks, laugh escaping a little bit. “Also, wait, what does me being tall have to do with it?”

Eddie sighs, long and exasperated. “If you live with me you never have to go home and leave me because you’re already at my house. Your house. If you live with me you never have to go anywhere.”

“Never have to go anywhere?” Buck thinks he’s in shock, maybe, about all of this, but teasing Eddie is something that’s always easy to fall into. “I don’t have a job in this scenario?”

“Well you’d go to work. And other places. But you just come back to me all the time.”

“I’d like to come back to you all the time,” Buck says, choking a little on how simply it explains every ache in him. “Eddie-“

“And you’re tall because… it matters because you’re tall because…” Eddie’s voice is soft, his breathing is soft. Buck wonders where he is in Hen and Karen’s house. In a hallway, tucked away from everyone, the nice light from the stained glass lamp they have there warm on his face? On the back porch, out in the cool night air? Buck wants to tell him to come home, wants to make sure he’s warm. “I never had to look up at anybody before.”

“I’ve got like two inches on you,” Buck replies, but his voice is pretty quiet.

“It’s a big two inches,” Eddie says, just as soft. Then, also quiet but of an entirely different flavor, “That's- Sorry- that's what she said.”

“That's-” Buck snorts. “What-” and then giddy laughter bursts up out of him, baking soda and vinegar, foamy and ticklish. He cackles till he’s breathless, listening to Eddie’s responding chuckles over the line, and sinks down to the floor, back against the kitchen island. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“I scored better on my certification exams than you.”

“That’s not even true!” Buck protests over Eddie’s continuing laughter. “Only in two categories!”

“Overall percentage was higher!” Eddie reminds him, as he does every time they have this argument.

“Well, I remember building construction and related hazards better than you and that’s written down on official paper somewhere.”

“Not fair,” Eddie says, as he always says. “You- you did- you built those. Unfair advantage.”

“I think you’re overselling the kind of experience I got in a few months working construction like a decade ago.”

“It wasn’t a decade when you took the tests,” Eddie points out. “Whatever. Nevermind. And I don’t want to sound like- you’re good at remembering things. You’re not stupid. I don’t want to sound like you are.”

Buck taps his boot against the sink counter in front of him. “I know. You’re not either.”

“I know,” Eddie says, soft again. “But your hands are big, and… you’ve got stubble sometimes, and…” he trails off into just breathing on the other end of the line for several long moments. “Buck,” Eddie whispers in sleepover voice. “Have you ever kissed a boy before?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, knowing Eddie knows this, but playing along anyway. “I have.”

“What's it like?”

Buck hums, closes his eyes. He thinks about the few guys he’d made out with but never followed home when he got to Los Angeles. Thinks about the room he’d crashed in with Connor in Peru, with it’s one mattress and both their clothes living in suitcases because they were too broke to buy any other furniture. He’s still got a t-shirt for a school he never went to, a few sizes too small. The way they hadn’t shared a room once they were in LA, the girls Connor started seeing. He thinks about John from the ranch who left town the next day. He thinks about high school, Len McGuinty under the bleachers in the summer before senior year, both of them giggling and half terrified and the way they’d pretended to barely know each other when school started back up. Hard jawlines and stubble and muscles and height. Having something, for however long you get to have it. Wanting something, very badly. He opens his eyes and it’s almost a surprise that he’s still in the loft. That he’s not at Eddie’s house. All the time in the world there wouldn’t be enough. “It’s good, Eddie. It feels good.”

“Buck,” Eddie breathes, shivery.

“I want to live in your home all the time, and never have to go anywhere,” Buck says, repeats. “I’ll kiss you, if you want.”

“Buck-”

“I’ll love you, if you want.” Eddie is still drunk, Buck tries to remind himself. But it might actually kill him not to say it out loud when Eddie had said he feels like this all the time. How could he not say he feels like this all the time, too? “I’ll love you back. I love you back. I’ll eat all the spinach quiches for you.”

“Buck,” Eddie says, and Buck doesn’t know what expression is on his face, doesn’t know what look is tied to this tone of voice. Is desperate to find out. Quiet down the line for a few moments. And then: “It’s late.”

Buck pulls his phone away from his ear for a second to check the time. Nearly midnight. “Yeah.” His hands feel clammy. It was too much. They should have waited to talk. Eddie wants out now, and that’s fine. Buck will —somehow, skin of his teeth — find a way to be fine with that.

But: “I want to go home,” Eddie says. “Buck. Come and take me home.”

“And then-”

“And then stay.”

“Okay,” Buck gets to his feet, tosses the half eaten bar in the trash. Eddie’s house has food. His home has things to eat.

“Okay,” Eddie says, confident now, everything decided, everything for sure. “I’ll see you soon.

“Minutes,” Buck says, grabbing his keys, half running to the door. “I’ll be there in minutes.”

“Minutes,” Eddie says back. And Buck can hear his smile.

[seattlesellie]

don’t cross the line

pairing: ellie williams x reader

warnings: smut (mdni), cheating, angst, mutual masturbation, just morally wrong, mentions of alcohol

Parties in Jackson fucking suck.

It’s not like youve ever been at a different party, but still. You’ve read about them in the little magazines from the old days you found on patrols. Small blurbs about meaningless celebrities, a concept you barely even understood, drinking themselves to oblivion. Paparazzi pictures of young starlets in black limousines, rappers getting coked up in dark bathrooms. You never really got it. Parties in Jackson were like a parallel universe.

“They must have made that up” you told Dina, your best friend and trusty patrol partner. “Nope” she shrugged. “Heard that Paris Hilton girl was really like that.”

Paris hilton would have hated Jackson parties. A bunch of old people, and a handful of young ones, dancing around to the beat of an old country song, if you could even call that a beat.

You could have responded with a simple “No thanks” when Jesse had invited you to tonights party. You could have told him you were tired, busy, sick, he would have left you alone - But you didn’t, alas, this is how you found yourself here. Alone, in an old barn, listening to the batshit insane, drunk ramblings of an old fart named Seth.

“Ripped that fella’s throat with just one move” Seth mumbled, laughing stupidly at his own words.

“Go — got him real good n’dirty, I tell ya”

Whoever said “respect the elderly” clearly never met Seth. His breath reeked of whiskey and cigarettes that he traded for food and supplies, and my god, he was standing so close you could see the veins in his yellow tinted eyeballs. You really were too polite for your own good, you thought to yourself, because Ellie would have shoved him away already.

Ellie.

You felt like slapping yourself in the face. What the hell does she have to do with this? Why can’t you just let it fucking go already? It truly was desperate, and pathetic, and borderline immoral, the amount you spent thinking about that girl.

So what if she used to be your best friend. So what if she was the first girl who ever made you feel something, even if it was too late. She has a girlfriend, and she’s not thinking about you, she doesn’t care, maybe never has, probably never will. She left you for her, with that useless excuse of “Cat doesn’t like it when we hang out” followed by a pathetic “We can do it in secret, though.”, when she saw your eyes turn glossy and your breath hitch up. Fuck her, and fuck those memories. Fuck all the nights you spent together telling each other your deepest and darkest desires, and especially fuck that time you almost-

“Hey”

You'd recognize that voice anywhere.

A royal blue flannel button up shirt appeared at the corner of your eye.

“Mind if I steal her for a sec, Seth?”

She sounded raspy, laced with that velvety layer her voice had adorned whenever she had a sip or more of Whiskey. When you drank together for the first time, at the ripe age of sixteen, next to a big bonfire and the ever so familiar scent of pine lacing your sense of smell, you told her that she sounds different when she’s drunk. More mature, somehow. Less fidgety, slower, sultrier. She replayed that sentence over and over again in her head. “Sultry”, she whispered to herself. “I sound sultry.”

Seth cleared his throat, a deep cough escaping his lungs.

“Of course, pretty girl like her shouldn’t be around me for too long, might start acting all wild!” The old man threw his hands in the air, and disappeared somewhere in the scarce crowd.

Your heartbeat was faster than normal, but that’s not new. Not when she was around, anyways.

Ellie stood by your side, hands crossed over her chest. She had a glass of Rum in her hand, not Whiskey. Funny.

“You’re a Rum type of girl now?” you questioned, never meeting her gaze. If you bothered to look to your side, you would have noticed she was staring.

“Fame’s changed me, I guess” She responded, mixing the fluid in her glass.

One week ago, Ellie went on patrol. One week ago, Ellie killed more infected in one go than anyone else had in years. She was the town’s hero, the infected slayer. Cat even made her a badge. She wasn’t wearing it now.

“Cat or fame?” you quietly mumbled under your breath.

You weren’t spectacularly brave with your words, but one glass of presumably expired white wine made a simple girl go very far.

“Hah. Funny” she scoffed dryly, earning her Rum another pointless swirl.

“You’re the towns hero, I’m the towns comedian, we’re both pretty famous, i’d say.”

Ellie’s gaze was fixed on the wall. She squinted her eyebrows slightly, humming in response. You looked over at her, for just a second, noticing the dim light reflecting in her eyes. She was a sight to behold, the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. You wish she knew that. You wish you could be the one to tell her.

You inhaled deeply, and it came out so shaky that when you exhaled you were terrified she heard the tremor in your body.

“Thank’s for the save, by the way” you said quietly, apologetic. You even smiled politely, which was absolutely for nothing, because she wasn’t looking at you, avoiding your gaze like the plague.

It’s not like Ellie and you didn’t talk since that night she told you she couldn’t see you anymore. It’s been two whole years. You had to talk, you had to communicate somehow, even if it was through polite smiles and dry conversations during shared patrols. Hell, you even went to Cat’s birthday party you somehow were invited to. Dina was practically on her knees begging you to come with her, and who could say no to Dina when she looked at them with those puppy eyes that could tug at a monsters heartstrings?

“Yeah, no problem. That man’s a fucking dickhead” Ellie scoffed, leaned against the bar and crossed her legs.

“Where’s Cat?” you questioned. Are you sure you only had one glass of wine?

“She’s not here” Ellie responded dryly, seemingly annoyed at your question. She almost tsk’d when you asked. She didn’t look surprised by your rude antics, maybe you got like this more often than you thought. How about that time you told her you’re surprised Cat didn’t pack her a sandwich with a sticker on it’s wrapper during patrol?

“I can tell… why?” you inquired. Your own voice was deeper too, it almost matched hers.

“Didn’t wanna come” Ellie said, stuffing a hand inside her pocket. She was uncomfortable, clearly, and wanted, needed, to make you shut up. It’s not because your presence annoyed her, It’s because she knew she was wrong. She knew she fucked up when she ditched you, and if only you knew how it was eating her alive every day. She had to do it, because in her eyes, she would have done something much worse if she hadn’t.

Being around you when she wasn’t with Cat was hard enough, because she knew she could never have you, that you’d never want her. Not if you knew. You were too smart, and too good, to ever want to be with her. Cat was easy, she didn’t ask too many questions. She’d lay there for Ellie when Ellie told her to, and she would agree to stop a conversation when it got too personal. When Ellie cried at night, and woke up sweating, she didn’t ask why. She let it go, and Ellie knew you never would have. You’d fucking hate her if you knew. She could have saved the world — and she didn’t. He didn’t let her. The wounds she had were too deep, they were clawing and tugging at her skin from the inside. Ellie was a tortured soul, and you didn’t deserve that. That’s why she left, and maybe, that’s why she was here right now.

“That’s too bad” you mumbled quietly. You did your best to make it sound genuine, and you failed miserably.

Ellie scoffed.

“Yeah”

You shifted slightly, and walked over to stand right in front of her. You met her eyes for the first time. Those stupid, beautiful emerald eyes.

Ellie looked down, and looked up at you. She swallowed deeply.

“Anyways” you sighed. “Think I’m gonna go”

“Already?” she questioned, slamming her Rum filled glass on the bar counter.

“Yeah, I’m cold and it sucks in here, so” you said, and smiled politely. It really was freezing, and talking to her like this was painful enough.

“Let me walk you” she blurted.

What?

“Huh?” walk you where? the door? you knew where it was.

She tugged at the loose string on the bottom of her button up. It was ironed, where did Ellie find and iron? Did Maria do it for her? Town hero perks?

“Let me walk you home” she repeated, her voice carrying a touch of insistence. Once again, you found yourself captivated by her burning gaze, those eyes that seemed to hold secrets yet to be unveiled.

“I can walk home alone, Ellie” You huffed, ever the stubborn.

“No” she exclaimed.

“Maria said it’s been pretty dangerous”

“I can have my own back, you know, I’m not an idiot” You scoffed. You knew she didn’t think you were an idiot, why did she have to walk you home?

“I know that — Just wanna make sure you’re safe”

“Gosh, Ellie thank you! thank you!” You said in the most high pitched voice you could fathom. “The town’s hero is at it again, everybody!” You exclaimed, slightly raising your voice, earning both of you a few curious looks from the townspeople.

Ellie wasn’t embarrassed. She was just annoyed. And she wanted to slap you in the face for being so stubborn.

She grasped your arm with an unexpected forcefulness, pulling you along as she swiftly guided you outside. In the process, you accidentally bumped into a few people, hastily muttering a string of apologetic "sorry" and "excuse me" as you hurriedly tried to navigate through the crowd. You attempted to resist her firm grip, trying to free yourself with a burst of strength, but you found yourself overpowered by her determination.

Once she managed to pull you outside, she finally released her grip on your arm, allowing you a brief respite from her firm hold.

“You are not walking me anywhere, Williams” you scoffed. What made her think you needed her help?

“You’ve always been so fucking stubborn” she turned to face you. Her hands were on her hips. Her face wore the same expression she did when you went on your first patrol together, when you insisted on going left, even though she knew you had to go right.

“I’m walking now” you stepped away, and started walking. “And if you followed me — you wouldn’t be walking me home, you’d be stalking me” you exclaimed as you backed away.

Ellie quickly followed your pace, her boots stomping on the snow covered ground.

“You are”

Step

“So fucking annoying”

This was the longest conversation you’ve had with Ellie in two whole years. It felt like nothing’s changed, except for everything.

The following ten minutes were torturous. You were walking fast, Ellie right behind you. No words were exchanged between you, the silence enveloping the crisp air as you both walked in silence. Your attention turned inward, focusing on the sensation of the cold air filling your lungs with each breath, and the soft sound of Ellie's boots pressing against the creaking snow beneath her.

You finally arrived at your place. It’s grey exterior blanketed in a pristine layer of snow. Every inch of its structure was adorned with a delicate coat of white.

You turned around to face her.

Ellie’s skin appeared slightly flushed, with a rosy tinge highlighting her cheeks, and her nose bore a noticeable reddish hue, hinting at the crisp winter air. She didn’t say a word.

You took a deep breath. She looked cold.

“Want me to make you some tea?” you questioned. You didn’t mean to let her in, and she didn’t expect you to ask. She looked surprised, her eyebrows turned slightly upwards.

“M’fine” Ellie insisted, her voice resolute despite the chill in the air. She sought warmth by tucking her hands deep into the pockets of her dark green coat.

“Jesus, Ellie — Just come inside” you urged, the concern evident in your voice.

“If walking you was stalking wouldn’t coming in be breaking and entering?” she inquired, a sarcastic tone lacing her words.

“Just —“ you uttered, your voice trailing off as you reached for the doorknob, slowly opening the door.

“Come inside”

"Fine," Ellie relented, her resolve wavering as she decided to follow in your footsteps.

The house welcomed you with its cozy warmth, though slightly disorganized in its appearance. Yet, amidst the subtle chaos, it remained a comforting sanctuary, always your safe space. Being there brought a sense of solace, as if the troubles of the outside world faded away. And with Ellie's presence by your side, an inexplicable tingling sensation spread through your being.

You proceeded to heat up some water, carefully attending to the task of preparing tea, a familiar ritual.

Ellie never knew where to sit, or where to stand, so there she was, examining every single one of your movements. The air felt thick, like you could cut the tension with a switchblade.

"Your house looks different," she murmured in a low voice, leaning against the cream-colored wall.

“Bad different?” You questioned, taking out two mugs from the cupboard.

“No, just… more stuff” she murmured.

"Well," you uttered as you gently placed the teabag into the awaiting mug. “You haven’t been here in a while, so”

Ellie hummed in response, and bit her lower lip.

“You’ve kind of changed too.” you murmured.

“Tattoos looking bigger. And you look more tired. Plus, your shirt looks ironed, so maybe you even… showered? Woah.” you teased.

“Fuck, you really are funny huh?” she said, crossing her arms.

“Always were a sucker for my jokes” you responded with a sly smile.

She didn’t mean to say what she said next, because that was like opening a pandora’s box. Or, more like, the gates to hell.

“This is the longest conversation we’ve had in years” Ellie murmured. You handed her the green colored mug, your finger brushing her’s for a second. You both flinched.

“Mhm” you took a sip from your tea. It was still so hot, it burned your tongue.

“And who’s fault is that?” You questioned, raising your eyes to meet her burning gaze. It was incredibly impulsive.

Ellie rolled her eyes. She looked baffled.

“You still don’t get it, do you? She questioned.

“Get what? that your girlfriend doesn’t like me? trust me Ellie, I get that, crystal clear.” You smiled, as you slammed your mug on the counter.

“I’m not doing this right now” she declared, her tone firm and resolute.

Oh, did that sentence burn through you.

“I think you are” you stepped forward to face her. She looked terrified, like a lost puppy. Not so “town’s hero” now. Thank god she wasn’t wearing Cat’s badge, because she would have looked ridiculous.

“I’m not” she said quietly, looking at the floor beneath her.

You felt the ever so familiar lump forming in your throat. She owed you.

“Tell me what it is exactly that I don’t get” you spat. The pent up anger from all these years finally just fucking bursted. She left you. She left you for her, your best fucking friend.

“It’s just funny how she didn’t give a shit about Jesse, or Dina, or anybody! Just fucking me, right? I’m the fucking problem?” you blurted. Your voice was shaky, filled with rage. The tears in your eyes started forming. You didn’t even know how much you were holding it inside of you, it all overflowed, at 2AM, right in your kitchen. Right where she told you she couldn’t see you anymore.

Ellie was frozen, her mouth parted slightly. She was flushed, and it showed. It wasn’t the cold weather anymore, it was you. She didn’t expect this to happen so fast. She came inside for some fucking tea.

That’s when you shoved her. And she didn’t even fucking move.

“Don’t fucking do this to me” she begged. Her voice was desperate, and shaky, and what the fuck was she hiding?

You found yourselves standing uncomfortably close to each other, the proximity palpable. The warmth of her breath gently grazed your forehead, creating a tantalizing sensation that sent a shiver down your spine.

She took a deep breath.

“What I did was bad. But — fuck, Jesse and Dina never slept over, you know that?”

The room fell quiet.

“So?” you whispered. You couldn’t even look at her.

“Don’t do this” she begged. Her eyes were glossy. She looked as if she was about to cry, too. Her chest was pressed up against yours.

“I’m not doing anything” you mumbled quietly. Her body was so warm. You felt like you were about to have a heart attack, and Ellie felt like she already did.

“If I would have stayed… I would have done something… so much worse” she whispered. Her hands were trembling.

“What would you have done?” you whispered against her. Dangerously close now. You could feel her unsteady heartbeat.

“You know” she whispered back. You saw the vein on her neck, how beautifully spattered the freckles on her skin were, like a constellation.

“Please” you begged.

That’s all it took.

Almost.

"No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. The proximity between your lips was almost intimate, an agonizingly close distance.

“Please” you begged.

Her eyes were dark, breaths unsteady and fast, like she just ran a marathon. Her chest was rising up and down. She’s dreamt of this moment, for so fucking long. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t fuck more people up. She’s done more than enough.

“You don’t know what you fucking do to me” She whispered against your skin. Her eyes were shut closed. If she didn’t see, maybe it would’ve been less wrong. If she didn’t see, maybe Cat wouldn’t either. She could go home, kiss her girlfriend good night. Walk away. But there you were, pressed up against her, making her head spin like a carousel, fogging her brain with your scent, and your lips, and all of the times she pictured you like this, helpless and begging. She never looked at Cat how she looked at you. Cat never made her feel like she could faint at any given moment. Cat was safe, she was a sunny day. You were a thunderstorm, a cloud, soaking her up. When Ellie said she would have done something so much worse, she meant that.

Cat was right when she told her to stay away, she always was. When Ellie begged Cat to stop her ramblings, Cat told her she looks at you like she’s hungry. That it’s disgusting, that she wishes it was her. She was crying, and begging, and she was right. That’s why Ellie knocked on your door that way. One person she could save.

Ellie’s hands were firmly pressed up against the wall, locking you in.

“You dont know…” she whispered.

You whimpered silently at her words. You were aching everywhere, you just needed her to do something.

“Show me” you said, and it came out more as a plead. You were begging her.

Ellie leaned in, drawing her face closer to yours, and your lips delicately brushed against each other. The electrifying touch sent a shiver down your spine, evoking a soft, involuntary moan that escaped your lips. It went straight to her heart, and then slipped right to her cunt.

Her lips were plump against yours. Just barely touching.

She delicately brushed her lips against yours, causing a gentle collision that sent a jolt of electricity through both of you. A shaky breath escaped her mouth.

“Ellie…” you whispered. Ellie, just do it. you can’t take it anymore.

She abruptly slammed her hands against the wall, causing it to tremor ever so slightly. The suddenness of the action startled you, making you jump in response.

“Shit” she huffed.

And her lips weren’t against yours anymore, neither was she.

Ellie backed away. She couldn’t.

Your lips quivered, and there it was. Her precious thunderstorm erupting.

The tears came out hot, and sticky. They ran all over your cheeks. You let out a quiet sob. Ellie was staring, her breaths uneven and her mouth agape. She almost did what shes been dreaming of doing since the moment she saw you. Almost.

your legs betrayed you, giving out completely. You crumbled down onto the floor, unable to stand any longer. With tears welling up in your eyes, you instinctively curled up, bringing your head between your legs as you tried to suppress the sobs that threatened to consume you.

It was a truly pathetic sight, Ellie towering over your quivering body. It’s been two whole years, and you missed her every single day that passed. It was gnawing at you. Seeing them hand in hand, kissing on the street, making out behind the dumpster. Thinking of Ellie hugging her at night, caressing her skin, touching her everywhere, telling her she loves her, fucking her, tasting her and not you. It should have been you. But it couldn’t be.

If only you knew that when Ellie was between her thighs, you were the only one she thought of. If only you knew Ellie had to bite her lip till it bled to stop from screaming your name. That’s why Ellie always turned off the lights, That’s why Ellie shoved Cat’s face down on the bed with her entire palm when she took her from behind. That’s why she always closed her eyes.

Her body gave up on her, too.

She sat on the cold concrete floor, trying to steady her breaths.

“Look at me” she commanded. It was breathy, and shaky, more of a plea than a real command.

You wiped your tears.

“I can’t” you whispered.

“Please” she begged.

You mustered the strength to lift your face, raising your gaze to meet hers.

“I think about you all the time” you blurted.

She huffed in response. Your soft voice was killing her. She couldn’t even respond. She just watched.

“Ellie…” you whined. The distance between you was torturous. There was so much space, and at the same time, no space at all. You could still feel her lips brushing against yours. You wished you could taste her. She yearned for that even more. She felt like something was chaining her down to the floor, holding her captive.

What you did next, is something Ellie had buried deep inside her darkest fantasies.

You delicately caressed your smooth neckline, doe eyes burning through her’s.

Ellie swallowed deeply.

“What are you doing?” she mumbled, lower than a whisper. Her voice was raspy, and her pupils were blown out. She was imagining, for sure, hallucinating, intoxicated by the picture of you being pressed up against her. It couldn’t be real.

“I need you” you whimpered.

She almost crawled right to you right then and there. Her knees were spread open in front of you. Her breath hitched in her throat. Her heart felt like it was leaping out of her chest.

“You cant” she insisted. It felt like she tried to convince herself, and not you. You couldn’t. There’s no way.

“I want you” you whispered, lowering your hand to caress your breasts.

Something took over you. Being pent up with frustration for years birthed such a desperate sight, she couldn’t fathom it.

She grunted in response. Do that again and she’d lose her fucking mind.

You cupped your breast.

Ellie threw her head against the wall. She forgot how to breathe. Her nostrils were flared, and she almost slapped herself in order to convince her that this was real. This was happening.

“Holy shit” she wheezed.

“Please” you begged, and squeezed your breast forcefully. Your nippled hardened against the material, so you gave them a twist, sending a bolt of electricity right through your clothed cunt.

Ellie’s mouth was agape. She was transfixed, mesmerized. Her cheeks grew more red by the second. It was so fucking wrong, she almost told you to stop, but she couldn’t. Her voice felt dry and her brain was buzzing. Her ex best friend was so desperate for her she couldn’t even help herself.

The image of Cat went through her head. Cat seeing, walking in. Cat trembling and crying, telling her she told her so. Cat screaming at her that she’s an awful person, that she hurt her, That she should burn in hell.

Then, you took your shirt off.

And Cat was gone.

Her eyes were darting from your tits to your needy eyes. You were giving her that look she only saw in her dreams. That desperate, pathetic twinkle in your eye. She saw a girl look like that in an old porno she found. Ever since, that picture of your face replacing the actresses burned through her memory. She knew it was for her, you were showing her, but she looked like she wasn’t supposed to see, a peeping tom, a pervert. Her cunt twitched inside her tight black boxers. Cat never made her cunt feel like this.

The dainty lace bra adorned your body. you looked like an angel, eyes red from crying, cheeks still wet, chest rising up and down. She wanted to ruin you.

You stopped for a second, looked for a sign to keep going.

The room was silent, the only noises that muttered were your soft whimpers and Ellie’s harsh, uneven breaths.

“Take it off” she whispered. You almost couldn’t believe she said that. You nodded pathetically. She always knew you’d be like this. She imagined you nodding your head frantically, kneeling beneath her and undoing her belt, way too many times she wouldn’t dare to admit. Her heavy breaths were a confession to all of her sins.

You unclasped your bra, your tits spilling out of it with a sigh of relief.

Ellie was hypnotized, fully staring. She remembered the first tine she saw you in a bikini. Jesse noticed she was staring, and he gave her some advice. “Look at the ground or the sky, pretend there’s something super interesting going on there”

She didn’t need to pretend now.

“Fuck” she grunted, feeling her cunt twitch inside her briefs. Her mouth was agape, she wanted those nipples between her teeth. Her tongue slightly moved involuntarily inside her mouth, imitating the kitten licks she’d give your tits if she could. It was truly pathetic. Thank god you couldn’t see. Her fists were clenched, and she was forcing her feet onto the ground. If she pretended something was pulling her in, she wouldn’t crawl towards you and take you like she always wanted.

You toyed with your nipples, rolling them between your fingers, almost as if you read her mind.

“Spit on ‘em” Ellie demanded desperately.

“Ellie…” You whimpered, her voice was making you grow wetter by the second. If you took your pants off, she could see the wet patch that soaked through your panties, making them almost sheer. You were almost embarrassed, but it was too late now.

“Do it” she commanded.

“Do it for me” Ellie begged. She brought a hand up to cup at her perky clothed breast. She imagined it was you, your tits between her fingers. She wanted to squeeze the fat, take it in, spit on it, latch her mouth onto your nipples, slap them as you ride her thigh, or her face, or her whatever the fuck you wanted.

The saliva ran down your chest, droplets flowing at an incredibly slow pace, each and every one of them teasing Ellie, mocking her. Almost there, almost reaching your sensitive nipples. When it finally did, Ellie was breathing so heavy she almost wheezed.

You rubbed the spit all over your tits, glazing your nipples with the liquid, coating them shiny with your saliva - all for her. You were staring at ellie with your mouth open. You moaned at the sensation, making Ellie shift and slightly slide off the wall. She was gone.

“Feels so good” you whined.

“Fucking shit” She huffed. She bucked her hips, searching for that friction. She didn’t do it yet, but oh she will.

“Mhhm” you hummed, a high pitched moan escaping your lips.

Ellie almost went cross eyed.

“Need you, please” You whispered while massaging your breasts. You were squeezing the fat harshly, almost punishing yourself for being such a dirty, desperate girl.

“Show me” She begged, in between breaths.

“Show me how bad - shit”

You cupped your cunt, your hand feeling warm over it. Your clit twitched. Ellie let out a moan so deep, you almost came right then and there, all over your panties.

You circled your clit through your pants, teasing Ellie without even realizing. I can do it, and you can’t! It felt like you were mocking her.

“Take that shit off — fuck” she huffed. Her hand was resting on her thigh, pinching it. Stay down. Don’t crawl, don’t fuck, don’t cheat.

In a matter of six seconds, your pants were on the floor. You crossed your legs together in embarrassment. What if she saw how wet you were?

“Spread” She commanded.

You looked at her stupidity.

“Spread ‘em, please” Ellie begged.

You spread your legs slowly, revealing your soaked white cotton panties to Ellie. Her eyes rolled back at the sight.

“Fucking shit” she grunted.

Her hand met her own cunt and gave it a stinging slap, followed by a desperate grunt. She moved her veiny hand up and down, almost grabbing her pussy. She felt perverted, and sickly, and so, so good. The friction of her hand on her cunt was followed by a string of deep moans, chanting your name like a prayer. She didn’t even know how bad she needed it.

“Wider” She commanded.

You spread your legs so wide your thighs almost hurt. When Ellie saw that wet spot, she lost it.

“So wet” she whispered in disbelief.

“Show me that pussy” She whimpered.

“Show me that fucking pussy”

You moved your panties to the side, the cold air hitting your clit making you flinch. You swore you could cum just from clenching in and out, listening to the obscenities leaving her mouth.

“Holy shit” She moaned, and cupped her cunt forcefully.

“So pretty” she whispered. It was even prettier than she thought, glistening folds and a little puffy button poking out. She needed to see inside, everywhere.

“Spread it with your fingers” She grunted. You parted your lips with your pointer finger and your thumb, wide open for her. She saw how bad you were clenching, begging for something inside. Your puffy clit moved with every pull.

“Wanna fuck you so bad” she groaned, it was killing her.

“Need to see you Ellie, please, please” you begged.

With that whine leaving your mouth, Ellie unzipped her jeans, and pulled down her boxers slowly, revealing you of the most beautiful sight youve ever seen in your life.

Her thighs were creamy, a mound of soft, dark hair adorning her pubis. Her slick was shining on her milky inner thighs from the boxer briefs she took off slightly brushing on them. She was so wet, it almost glistened like a far away star, deep in the galaxy. Her mouth was parted and she looked famished.

Tiny droplets of sweat were shining on her forehead, making her hair stick to her face. She was a panting, desperate mess.

You couldn’t help but slide your hand up your thigh, and started running your fingers through your glistening folds. Finally. “Oh god, Ellie” you moaned. You wished those were her fingers, if you could, if you only could.

Ellie moaned like a porn star at the sight. You thought she might tease herself, might play with her cunt before doing something. She proved you wrong.

She slid two long fingers inside her aching hole, squelching sounds filling the air. She pumped them in and out, fucking herself like a madwoman. Her hungry eyes were fixated on your fingers caressing your needy cunt. Her mouth was watering, borderline drooling, soft “ah!”s escaping her lips.

You circled your clit slowly, and felt your lower stomach leap at the contact. You lapped your slick with your middle finger, and sucked on it. It was obscene. Ellie’s cunt twitched. She almost came.

“Good girl” She groaned at the sight.

“Faster” She commanded, a deep moan escaping her lips.

You fastened your pace, and she was looking you directly in the eyes while pumping her fingers inside her cunt. With every pump, you could see a milky cream coating her fingers, the sight alone made your puffy clit ache with pleasure.

It was so wrong, and obscene, and pathetic, and you almost came.

“Fucking shit — fuck yourself, show me, fuck yourself” She whimpered, fastening her pace as well. The moans that left her mouth were deep, bursting from the inside of her soul.

Her fucking ex best friend.

“E — Ellie m’close” you whined, inserting a finger inside your soaking hole.

“Can see how fucking tight you are - fuck”

“Faster, do it f’me baby faster” She groaned.

The harmony of your moans intertwined, creating an intoxicating symphony.

“Ellie — gonna cum, fuck” You babbled, drool running down your chin. You were so close, eyes rolling to the back of your Ellie filled brain.

“Please fuck me, please fuck me”

“Cu — Fuck, shit, m’cuming” Ellie grunted.

“Say my fucking name” She demanded, her words coming out so sloppy and ridiculous.

“Ellie — Ellie! Please!”

Ellie almost screamed. She wanted to tell you to come for her, wanted to hear the noises youd make, see your face twist and the screams of her name, but she couldn’t help herself, the sight of your desperate cunt and the look on your face, so stupid, so cumdrunk, so pathetic, begging her to fuck you - brought her to the edge. It errupted inside of her like a volcano, pumping and squeezing on her fingers. She rode her orgasm until it tickled and hurt.

When you came, Ellie almost shed a tear.

This wasn’t just wrong.

This was vile.

She pulled up her pants up and left without saying a word, too embarrassed to look you in the face.

When she got home, Cat was sound asleep on her bed. She gave her a delicate kiss on the cheek, and whispered;

“I’m so sorry”

[eevees-hobbies]

I'M ON MY HANDS AND KNEES PLEASE DO SOMETHING WITH KAJI AND BITING

Content Warning: Mind the tags! MeanGirlReader x TiredOfYourShitRenKaji. Hate-fucking, toxic behavior, degradation, sex in a public place, but plot armor makes it ok, spitting and consumption of said spit, biting, cumming inside without consent. Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 1.3K

Banner by me.

Fun Facts:

If you’re sexually aroused by biting, you have a fetish called Odaxelagnia.

You probably like being bitten because you’re into pain, you sadomasochist.

It has been reported that half of all people are aroused from biting, so congrats, you’re not alone!

Kaji finds you so obnoxiously annoying that his lips curl upward into a scowl. He hates the way your eyes sparkle when you look at him–that irritating, mischievous glint shining brightly in your eyes right as he passes into your field of vision. He hates how you push his buttons with smart-mouthed remarks–every word passing through your lips laced with venom. And he especially hates how you can’t tell that he’s so in love with you that if you decided never to speak to him again, he’d choose to drop off the face of the planet.

But you were so goddamn rude, so fuck ever telling you that.

“I dunno, man. Maybe she’s one of those girls who likes their men a lil mean. It honestly sounds like you two need to bang it out.” 

Kaji gave Hiragi a deadpan stare after approaching his mentor for much-needed sage advice. Hearing him suggest that you wanted to be dicked down felt so off-base to Kaji, which was disappointing since Hiragi was usually right about everything.

But there must be an exception to that rule because the thought of you wanting to fuck him was simply:

Ridiculous.

Absurd. 

Unless? 

No! 

There’s no way you were into him. No sane person would act like you do if they liked someone.

So when Kaji finds himself at a dive bar where an underground death metal band is playing their heaviest set, his stomach churns with annoyance—and something else he’d rather not say aloud—as he sees you walk to the bathroom.

And maybe he was feeling a little brave—or stupid—that night. Because he followed in hopes that you both could squash whatever beef you had concocted in your head, and maybe he’d consider asking your dumbass out.

But as you exited the bathroom and he saw that shit-eating grin on your pretty face as your eyes met, he became painfully aware that, no, he was the actual dumbass.

“Kaji? You stalking me or…? Oh, wait,” you look behind you at the door to the restroom. “I get it. You wanted to watch me pee. I heard you might be into something like that.”

In a matter of seconds, anger consumed him, coursing through his veins like wildfire; all the negative interactions you two had, the snide comments, the poking, prodding, culminating into a very volatile climax.

“What’s your problem with me?!” Kaji doesn’t mean to grab your wrist so hard that you wince in pain—but he does. And he doesn’t mean to practically growl at you, his prominent canines on display as his lips curl upward—but he does. And he doesn’t mean to smash his lips against yours when he catches your eyes staring at his mouth—but he does. 

As the crowd in the next room thrash about in the mosh pit, Kaji is pulling your skirt up and spreading your legs by slotting his own between your thighs.

He tears his lips away from yours, chest heaving, and blue eyes blackened with rage.  “This what you wanted? To be fucked in some dive bar in some dirty ass hallway?”

If he didn’t find you absolutely reprehensible, he wouldn’t feel any shame in admitting how beautiful you look in the dimly lit hallway, lips swollen from his heated kiss, mouth slightly open, and dressed exactly like the type of girl who could run away with his heart.

You don’t immediately answer him, but your body is shaking, and for a moment, he feels as though he might have made a mistake. He’s about to withdraw and offer his apologies until he hears you cackling.

“Kaji, you think I’m scared of you? I eat little boys like you for breakfast.” Your tone is condescending, and any remorse Kaji feels for you dissolves along with his patience.

“What are ya gonna do, Kaji? Fuck the attitude out of me?”

Before he can talk himself out of it, he’s gripping your cheeks between his fingers. You try to gather enough strength to shake your head out of his grasp, but his fingers only dig in more, earning a hiss from you. And as you look at him, lips puckered in a delicious pout, Kaji accumulates as much saliva into his mouth as he can, and with two fingers prying your jaw open, he spits into your mouth. Globules of his spit land on your lips and tongue, sitting thickly and tasting like vodka.

And despite the hold he has on you, your eyes roll back as your clit seizes uncontrollably and your cunt drools.

He removes his hand from your face, repositioning it near your head against the wall so that he’s leaning into your orbit. 

“Swallow it.”

And he’s not fucking asking.

You make a show of swallowing his spit, gulping loudly as it slides down your throat, and then showing him your tongue.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, and you don’t even know how to ask for it.”

“I know how to ask, Ren.” Your hand snakes down to the bulge in his pants, and to his absolute horror, a moan bubbles out of his throat at your touch–it feels hot with want, and his brain is telling him that danger is imminent, but he can’t help but lean into the palm of your hand.

“So then ask. Nicely.”

You lick your lips, eyes hungry, and cunt the wettest it's ever been.

“Fuck me, Ren. Please, fuck me.”

“Good girl.” He unzips his pants, the sound making your heart palpitate wildly against your ribcage. As you reach down and pull your panties down your legs, you extend them to Kaji on the tip of your finger.

He sneers but takes the garment, placing it in his back pocket for future use.

You yelp as he picks you up, pushing your back against the wall as he lowers you on his cock. And there’s nothing gentle with the way he treats you. Not allowing your pussy to even adjust to his girthy cock as it rams into your tight, weeping hole.

He’s ramming into you, drumming thuds and sloppy, wet sounds echoing in the empty hallway, with only the sound of the concert drowning out the sounds of your grunts and whimpers.

You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, closing your eyes and savoring the feeling of him beating up your cunt. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!!”

“S-shut the fuck up and stop acting like you weren’t begging for this.”

Your eyes blow out as he sinks his canines into your neck, and despite the searing pain, you clench around him, your cum already coating his dick.

Kaji laughs against your neck. "You wanted to be treated like a hole? All you had to do was ask.”

He’s smashing his lips on yours again, but this time, you lead the kiss, gliding your tongue into his mouth. Your tongue dances over one of his canines, careful at first out of caution but then with reckless abandon as the sharp points of them embolden you, and Kaji groans at your forwardness.

It’s not long before Kaji can feel his balls clenching, his cum loaded in the chamber and ready to fire into you. And if this were any other situation, he’d pull out, choosing to cum somewhere far more convenient, but the idea of filling you up after all the shit you’ve given him and making you march back into the crowd without panties, and semen dripping down your leg makes him groan in your mouth and release hot, thick streams into your pussy.

Your body recoils at the feeling of his seed pouring into you, his cock throbbing as the ropes become smaller spurts until finally subsiding.

You slide down the wall as Kaji pulls away from you and pushes himself back into his jeans. He’s still scowling down at you. “Got that out of your system?”

You’re dazed, a little confused, and entirely giddy from the experience. “And if I say no?”

Kaji rolls his eyes, but he understands you now—he understands what you like and what you need, and he’s sure he can supply it to you moving forward.

[potentialguybodyswaps]

Brother body part swap part 2:

Oh man, my brother is such a dumbass, and now I get to keep his, I mean my new awesome big cock, I get he was trying to be helpful and make me happy, but how dumb could he be?

It started a few days ago when I got kinda self conscious after hanging out with my friends smoking pot, talkin about all the girls we fuck, when in actuality I don’t fuck many, kinda been hurt too many times when they make fun of my dick size….

After my friends left, I sat down with my bro who was high as a kite watching Tv

I asked him “hey Christian, I have a question for you”

“Yuh” Christian said not breaking focus from the tv and looking like a zombie

“How old were you when you first got laid” I said clasping my hands together and leaning in, trying to look like I was focusing on the tv and not his answer

“17”

“And how big is your dick?”

“Um about 9 inches… um you?” He said tilting his head to try and look at me

I wasn’t ready for him to fire back a question like that, I don’t wanna lie but I don’t want him to make fun of me if he’s actually 9 inches, bro must have gotten the good genes in the family

“Um, 7 myself. Why do you ask?” I said feeling like a fraud for lying

“Bro chill, I don’t care, you asked me first after all, what’s the problem, something wrong?” He said finally breaking from trying to make eye contact with me and faced the tv again

“Um, I mean, kinda I guess… some girls I’ve been with kinda think I’m small” i said sinking into the couch feeling embarrassed

“Nah bro, your good, I mean your pretty good looking, no homo. And 7 inches isn’t small, bigger than average, she’s probs just a college slut, there’s always someone bigger. Now let’s just watch the rest of this, and finish the season haha” my brother said laughing referring to the show we’re watching, Rick and Morty, what a fit show for a smoking session might I add

“… wait you think I’m good looking?” I said smiling trying not to blush for some reason “haha thanks bro, just one more question what’s your body count, like how often do you get laid?”

“Uh like 2 or 3”

“2 or 3!? Times or girls?” I said shocked from what I herd

“Times bro, now shut up we can talk about this later dude” he said annoyed that I kept bothering him

I was quiet for the rest of the episode and decided to go up to my room after that figuring that’s the most I could get out of him without it being weird. I mean it was already weird but I didn’t want it to be anymore

I ended up falling asleep pretty early that day sense me and my brother actually go to the same college, we both gotta get up early so he can drive us both there

I wasn’t asleep for long when I herd a knocking at my door

I sat up letting my hair dangle in my face and just pulled my phone out that way I could play games or whatever when whoever walks though the door decides to talk to me

Chris opened the door a little bit and stuck his head in

Ultimately he was just checking in on me asking how I was doing and eventually came in having one of those brotherly talks where he basically just tells me he cares about me, that he’s here if I ever need to talk, and how I’m his favorite little brother, when In reality I’m his only little brother…

We started talking about my problems and I broke down a little bit completely throwing myself onto my bad trying to hide my face so he couldn’t see I was about to cry

I told him I mainly just wanted a actual relationship but all the girls I do like dump me

He told me something along the lines of how he’s not like me, and was shocked this is what I actually want and how it seemed like me and my friends were playing a game of who could fuck the most girls

That just upsetted me even more cause I forgot for a moment about how I’m very good at making it seem like I’m a fuck boi that gets all the girls, when in reality all my one night stands, weren’t one night stands cause of my choice, they all decided 5 inches isn’t enough

Chris could see I was hurting on the inside from this, not knowing the actual reasoning why I can’t keep a girl, and told me that most of his girlfriends always thought I was the cute one, he then proceeded to ask if I wanted him to try and hook me up with one of them

“Ya” I said trying not to let my voice break

“Ok, I’ll start work on it tomorrow” Christian said walking out

The next day came and went as usual, however Christian did tell me I had a date with his Ex Beth in like 2 days! That’s not alot of time to prepare but I think he purposely set it up cause that’s my birthday, must just trying to be cheap and call my date a gift or something

I spent the whole rest of that day and the next telling Christian all my ideas for my date and asking questions like what did she like

Chris told me “just be you, maybe hang out for a little bit, dinner if she gets hungry, perhaps take her out to the lake and go for a swim”

I asked Chris “ how are we gonna get there? It’ll be pretty weird if you have to drive us, even more pathetic if she has to drive us” I said annoyed

I saw chris roll and eyes and reach into his pockets pulling out the keys to his mustang and tossing them to me

“Duh bro you can borrow my car I guess while you go on your date, don’t fucking scratch it tho, you know mustangs aren’t cheap” he said all seriously

“Seriously bro? Your gonna let me drive the stang? What’s the catch, why are you being so nice all of a sudden” I said squinting my eyes at him

“No reason bro, it’s your birthday, that’s like 1 of the 2 days a year I legally have to be nice to you, what you don’t wanna drive it?” Christian said raising an eyebrow to me

“No!, No!, I do! It was just a question that’s all” i said back peddling trying not to get him ask for his keys back

“Listen we can talk more about this tomorrow ok?��� I said tossing him back the keys

Me being the stoner I am I proceeded to go back to my room and get high so I can fall asleep and wake up sooner to start enjoying my birthday

As always I’m typically the first one out the door but this morning I almost tripped over a packaged addressed to Chris

I opened back up the front door and yelled “Chris there’s a package here for you! On the step” And the. Proceeded to go back to the car

Once inside I kinda just closed my eyes and tried falling asleep again, sleeps one of my favorite things and I’ll take every minute I can get of it

For some reason my feet got super tight in my shoes but I didn’t think much about it just kicked them off so it quit distracting me from taking a few minute nap

After a bit I could hear my door open and a pair of shoes and keys were tossed on me

“Your driving” I herd a voice say

I looked up was shocked to see my own body wearing my clothes

“Bro what the fuck! Why am I looking at myself” i said frantically trying to pull the sun visor down just to be greeted with my brothers face instead of mine

“Holy shit! I’m you now Christian, how did this happen!?” I said feeling my face thinking I was still asleep

In the corner of my eye I could see my brother reach into his hoodie and pull out a necklace dangling it around his neck

“Remember the necklace you wanted” he said still jiggling the necklace around

“Ya and you got it? And it actually works!?” Holy shit bro this is crazy” I said unbuttoning my jeans so I can check his dick out

“Aye bro, I think you forgot a part” I said looking at him disappointed

“Nah dude, I just felt like it’d be weird to swap that, now anyways get up your driving.” Chris said standing there waiting for me to get up

I stood up, putting on his shoes and walked over to the driver side and started the car. Not gonna lie, really weird being in my brothers body, like carrying the weight feels weird, we both weigh almost the same but since Chris is taller I’m way skinner now than in my real body… but anyways I was really excited to drive my brothers car, I fucking love his car, I kinda have a thing for mustangs

I know it’s important to let your car warm up so I left it started for about a minute before I put it in drive and started heading to our classes

“So… um, how long is this gonna last? Or how long are we gonna stay swapped” i said trying to keep my eyes on the road

“Oh I don’t know, there was a instructions booklet but I don’t think we need that haha… aslong as you want bro, aslong as it’s within reason, so could be for a day, could be for a week or two, but I definitely don’t wanna be you for a whole month haha, guess you could consider this another birthday gift” said laughing checking his smile out in the side mirror

“Oh jeez, thanks bro, but you do remember I have that date tonight right?” I said a bit annoyed about the timing of the swap

“Well I mean we could always swap back after class. Or we could stay like this and I could go on your date for you maybe? That way I can do everything possible to make sure you get a 2nd date and continue seeing you, sense, ya know… you like to fuck up a lot haha” he said laughing at me

“Not funny dude, but ya dude I guess maybe it would be a good idea for you to go as me. You’d probably know what she would like and could probably seal the deal with her to date me” I said pulling off the main road and onto the campus looking for a place to park

“So we have a deal then?” Chris said holding a hand out

“Deal” i said shaking his hand

After turning the car off and opening the door to get out I herd Chris yell “Hope you have a good day CHRISTIAN” he said putting emphasis on his name, er I guess my name for now

“You too benji” I said also putting emphasis on his new name

I went to Chris’s class for the day and they were a lot harder than what I expected mainly the bullshit math and science ones that typically don’t have much to do with whatever major you pick

After school I waited by the car for my brother to come that way I can drive us both home and he can start getting ready his date

Chris was going though my whole closet looking for a outfit that was date worthy and when the time finally came for him to go pick Beth up, he came and grabbed the keys to the car

After he took the keys and left me in his room, I started looking at myself in the mirror slowly stripping looking at my boney figure

I mean Chris ain’t that bad looking but even he admits I’m the better looking one, I mean truthfully I don’t think I’d mind staying in his body, but only if I had his dick, that’s also assuming he’s not lying about being 9 inches hard haha, I know I’m no where near that, I’m really 5 inches and our dad is about the same so I doubt bro is even above 6

Wondering if it was possible a swap could be permanent I remembered Chris said there was a instruction book that he threw away cause who needs one for a fucking necklace

I found a little pamphlet in his trash and started reading it, really only 2 pages explaining how it works, how to do a swap, but after that there was a section explaining what to do if you want a swap to become permanent

The pamphlet said if you want a permanent swap all you have to do is jerk off since the magic in the necklace is holy magic, any sins done while swapped can break the magic link leaving it useless to those that used it. So things like sexual conduct before marriage, or even just jerking off was enough to break it

It’s a good thing I read this cause I was gonna jerk off but I don’t think I wanna be stuck as my brother, taller and skinner now but with the same sized dick I have, it kinda looks even smaller

I decided to get dressed again and started playing Chris’s Xbox looking for a good game to play, finally settling on over watch playing quick play not wanting to mess up his competitive score

About an hour and a half later, I was in the middle of the practice range testing out a new hero when I herd the door open, I paused it and turned around looking up to see my brother “how’d it go, does she still wanna go out with me?” I said

“Oh ya bro, it’s still not over, I’m just here to grab some shorts cause she wants to go down to the lake and go for a swim before it gets real dark… do you think it’d be wrong of me if I tried to fuck her on the first date?” He said grabbing a bag and putting some black shorts and some towels in it

“Nah bro, I mean it does sound like something I’d do, so she might be expecting it” i said not able to help giving him a sly smile

Chris ended up setting his bag down and went into the bathroom connected to his room, just then an idea struck me and I ran to my room grabbing a pair of my shorts and ran back taking his shorts out tossing them under the bed and stuffing mine in the bag

Just then chris came out the bathroom seeing me stuff something in there.

“What’s that” he said walking closer to grab the bag

“Uh… just some condoms, can’t be too careful right?” I said taking a step back trying not to seem suspicious

“Ugh ya thanks bro, stopping at a store to buy some might have been weird if she knew I was planning to do this haha” grabbing the bag and laughing while he walked out saying “see ya later bro”

After he left I couldn’t help but laughing to myself “oh man, I can’t believe I just did that, well I guess atleast now I I’ll know how big his dick is… although I suppose if he does fuck her once we swap junk, we’ll permanently be stuck like this, but I mean if he’s actually that hung and not lying, I think I could live with this, but fuck, I hate the fact that this is a gamble that he’s not lying about how big he is” I thought to myself

I went back to playing my game, going back to quick play, after like 5 or 6 games holding the controller in my hand resting them on my sweats, I started feeling someone brushing my hand, I lifted up both hands and saw a larger bulge than before

“Oh my god this is it, he put my swim shorts on” I thought myself backing out my game and getting up to go to the bathroom

I pulled my sweats down some and could see the large imprint on my underwear, I pulled those down too, to take a piss and was left almost speechless, bro looks as big soft as I do hard that’s insane haha

After getting done with taking I piss I went back to the room and took my pants completely off standing in the middle of the room in just my brothers underwear, I swapped into his early cause why not, not like I could actually swap anything myself

I pulled them down a little bit and grabbed my dick, thinking about how I have my brothers dick might be a little weird but the fact that it’s so much bigger is even hotter

It started growing in my hand and once fully hard I grabbed a tape measure and measured it, I just had to know

And sure enough he wasn’t lying, Chris actually does have a 9 inch dick, we’ll actually 9 inches and 1/4th

I started slowly jerking off at a pace that wouldn’t be able to make me cum, basically just edging and enjoying the use of my huge cock debating if I wanted to cum, I could be the nice brother and swap back with him, but at the same time he probably fucked his ex already, oh man she HAS to be disappointed, but at the same time I don’t wanna go back to disappointed women. But I might not have to, if he fucked her then that means we can’t swap back anyways, but if he hasn’t then that means I have to give him his dick and body back

I sped up my jerking and kept stopping short of cuming for over an hour continuing my internal debate, on whether or not I wanted to do this and keeping Chris’s body, trapping him in mine, like I said kinda hot we’ve swapped bodies entirely, the big dick is even hotter, but I don’t know if I could keep his body forever

Just then I herd a car door slam and I figured that was Christian pissed off, not having anymore time to debate, I sped up, hoping I’m making the right decision, sense I’ve been edging for over an hour it didn’t take long for me to cum now that I ramped up the speed trying to bust before he walks in on me jerking, probably took less than half a minute of me jerking furiously to finally bust sending giant ropes of cum flying out my dick, 6 or 7 ropes total flew out my dick landing a couple feet away and a few more smaller ones landing on my feet

Just as I was panting, about to wipe the tip of my head off and put it away, Chris walks in, i looked at him the moment he opened the door, looking like he was about to yell but went into shock for a few minutes at the site of me with his dick in my hand

“You didn’t!” He said loudly with my old higher voice

“I froze, uh uh uh, this isn’t what it looks like” i said panicking, I thought I’d have a few more moments before he’d come in

“Really? Cause it looks like you swapped my shorts out for yours, I come back after my date almost exploding after I told her I’m almost as big as my brother, which was a let down for her when she saw I’m only 5 inches hard! And walked in right after you got done jerking off in my body!” He said angrily

“Uh, uh, Im sorry just couldn’t help myself, when I noticed my dick didn’t feel right I decided to check it out and then I got hard from looking at this chopper and I just couldn’t help myself haha” i said trying to break the tension

“Whatever dude your lucky Beth still wants to go out with you, we’re fucking done with this swap, get out” he said grabbing some of his clothes and a beanie

I walked out smirking knowing what was gonna happen.

“Hold on,” I said stopping at the door “I thought you said we could stay swapped for a week or too”

“Ya well you forfeited that when you took my shorts and swapped them with your own, I told you I didn’t wanna swap junks with you, I mean who wants a smaller dick, not to mention balls. I didn’t wanna lose 2 inches and instead you forced me to lose 4! Now get out!” He screamed at me slamming the door on me

I went back to my room smirking and just laid on my bed waiting for him to realize swapping back wouldn’t work

I laid in bed for about 5 minutes when I herd a “WHAT THE FUCK” from across the hall and then stomping coming my way

“Oh? Did you change your mind?” I said trying to look shocked but failing to hide a creeping smile from popping up on my face

“No as you can see, I’m wearing my clothes but nothing happened, now help me get this dam necklace off” he said failing to get the necklace off

“Oh this is great, I mean might not be the best body to be stuck in but with a dick this big, I don’t mind giving up the cute brother title, atleast I’ll be the big dicked brother haha fucking sweat!” I thought to myself as I walked over and tried to unclasp the necklace to no prevail, I decided to pull it off breaking the clasp to the necklace

I decided to grab some of my old clothes and put them on before I decided to loosely tie the necklace around my neck so I was technically still wearing it

“Did you ever read the instructions” i said trying to hide a smile

“No, what would be so important about stupid instructions for a necklace” he said frustrated

“A magic necklace, and well in the instructions it says that part of the magic is if you desire to keep your parts you have, all you have to do is cum, ether jerking off or sex, whatever gets you to blow” i said with a full blown shit eating grin now as I saw realization Dawn upon Chris’s face

“And well you already had sex with Beth in my body right?” I said

“Ya” he said changing facial expressions from confused to horrified

“And I already jerked off right before you got back. Which means nothing is probably gonna happen” i said

We waited in silence for a couple minutes before he finally snapped

“So you knew if you jerked off we wouldn’t be able to swap back!? What the fuck is wrong with you dude? Now we’re stuck like this! We gotta find a way to swap back, I don’t wanna be known as the small dick little brother” Chris said with tears in his eyes

“Let me reiterate something you said to me not long ago. “” who wants a smaller dick”” well not me, when I saw you weren’t actually bullshitting about having a 9 inch dick, I decided I don’t actually mind having your body. Knowing you probably would try and bang your ex in my body, I decided to seize the opportunity and jerk off in your body, just to seal the deal in case you didn’t fuck her, just so I can keep this” I said putting my hand in my pants and fondling my dick and balls

“I mean not to mention even if I didn’t swap our shorts out, sense you fucked her we’d still be stuck but then you’d be hung in my body while I kept my shrimp dick in yours, it kinda looked weird on me sense I’m skinner and taller now… so don’t be mad that you fucked up and made it permanent, I just took advantage and swapped the final thing out that way it’s a complete Bodyswap” i said

“I mean you don’t have to be known as the little dicked brother, your known as the cute brother now, you just happen to have a small cock now, so if I was you BENJI, I’d get use to being the smaller brother in more than one way, cause luckily for me, this is permanent now haha” i said laughing and putting emphasis on his name

#longoverdo

#fromthevault

[nicolesainz]

“Written mine on my upper thigh” LN4

Lando Norris x f!reader

Author’s note: My comeback story HAD to be about the winner of the Dutch Grand Prix (by 22 seconds) and @freedaxf1 ‘s husband!! I present to you, possessive Lando Norris

Summary: Lando and you have been having an on and off relationship since your teenage years. While he lives his life in England, you’re back home trying to move on but everything seems impossible. What happens when Lando finally tracks the continues cycle?

Warnings: inaccuracies about Lando’s job and birthday, sexual themes, minors dni, 18+, nicknames, oral sex!

His eyes had been glued to my body for the better part of the night. I must admit mine were doing the exact same, given with how good he was looking. In all the years we have known each other this was one of the times where I have caught myself thinking “I will never share him with anyone. He is mine.”

I had come to London for a play with my friend group and we all decide to collectively separate our schedules and explore the city. In my case, I had been desperate enough to let someone else explore me. I knew that if I spent another month without his touch, I would need to buy a third vibrator.

As I was walking into the fourth bookstore of the day, trying to find as many new romance novels as possible, thankful I decided to pack very lightly, and my luggage had some extra space. It was at the very moment when my fingers laid on Shakespeare’s “Othello” when a raspy British voice tingled my entire body, “No surprise finding you looking at England’s most profound litterateur work.”

I turned around to be met with the most crystal blue eyes I had ever encountered in my life. They also happened to be the eyes of the man that drove me insane for most of my teenage years and fell in love with. I also was not surprised when I caught him licking his lips as he was staring into mine. Usually what that meant in both our minds was “Yours or mine?”

“I am starting to believe you have put a tracker on me given I can’t hide from you.”

“You will never find it sweetheart. I am better at hiding than you will ever be.”

“Now that you mentioned it, a certain pair of panties has me feeling uneasy every time I wear them on dates, maybe that’s your hiding spot.”

“Probably shouldn’t have worn them whilst you were with me. Or even when you weren’t with me, since it’s a sign that I have marked them as mine.”

“A tracker was unnecessary. The universe has sided with you, knowing all my dates were major failures.”

“I won’t lie to you, so I can’t say I am sorry for you baby. After all, I hardly doubt you reached a point with those poor fellas where you screamed their name as loud as you did mine.”

This probably would be an ideal time for him but very unfortunate time for me to admit that I once misnamed one of my dates and used his name instead. And an even more annoying fact that he was right about was that I had never reached a point with any of those guys to moan their names, or even let them touch me.

The past 3 months I hadn’t allowed myself to get physical with anyone else but him. Everyone was slowly starting to wonder why my visits to London were becoming more and more regular. As the months were going by quite fast, the use of my vibrator was becoming an even more usual habit. The moment I die I know there’s a place for me in hell, with the amount of times I have surrendered myself to the captivating voice of this Englishman, making the most unholy thoughts about his tongue and fingers touching the most inappropriate parts of my body, as I slide in my vibrator, imagining his insanely powerful body thumping against mine, groaning and moaning his name louder than a holy prayer.

“What brings you around my place this time? Missed my cock so much couldn’t get enough of it?”

“Friend group getaway if you so badly want to know. And trust me if I wanted to fuck you so much with one single call, I could have made you travel back home and wreck me, like the good obedient boy you are.”

“I think you are mistaking me for you darling. I don’t remember being the one who came knocking on one’s door begging for a night of pleasure. Or the one who screamed the other’s name so loud they lost their voice the next day and wanted to be fucked in front of a mirror so they could see how well I fit inside of them.”

I absolutely hate it how he knows exactly which buttons to push in order to play with my brain. Well, you’re the one who lets him so, it’s more your fault, not his. Although I absolutely love it when he pushes those buttons during sex.

I will never admit to his face that he is the best sex I have ever had. He doesn’t need to know that his ego doesn’t need more boost. Ever since I last saw him, he has changed massively. His hair has turned into a darker shade, the fuzziness in his hair has been replaced by a regular curly cut and only a few strands can be seen from the excess of his beanie. He probably has grown a few inches as well, hopefully his cock has as well.

“Say, how did you find me? If you are stalking me, I should get restraining orders now.”

“Happy coincidence. I was looking for new law books about school. And also, a gift for your birthday.”

My heart stopped when he said he was looking a gift for my birthday. I sent him a month ago for his own birthday a scrap book from my last visit in London with pictures we took of each other of the different sights we visited, maybe a few sneaky ones in bed as well.

“You know you don’t have to buy me anything. A text or a call is more than enough.”

“I know, my love, but nonetheless I had to get you something. Thought it was better than anything else.”

“Surely not better than being with you or hearing your voice.”

After I managed to escape from his eyesight, I went back to my room to get changed for the night out me and the guys were about to have. We mutually agreed not to pull an all-nighter so we would be in time tomorrow for the play. With the chilly weather I was met today, I decided that along with my tight dark blue dress, a pair of see-through leggings would be more than ideal. I was on a call with the girls and as I was applying my red lipstick, a message popped up on my screen.

“Try not to catch a cold tonight babe.”

Such small messages declaring his love for me were everything I was asking for in a man and I am thankful they are parts of him. We weren’t in a proper relationship but to the people that didn’t know me very well like my friends, I was always saying “Oh I have a boyfriend, but he lives in the UK”, because he indeed was the closest things I had to one.

When I finally found the location of the club, I managed to easily spot my friends, and I was greeted with many drinks to pick from. Alcohol heaven for sure. I decided to refrain from drinking over 2 glasses so I could enjoy their company more sober than drunk and in case I needed to carry anyone back to their hotels.

After 2 hours all the girls found themselves dancing on the main floor to a remix of Jason Derulo and Lady Gaga, the dirtier the better. All the lights were flashing on our bodies and every man around us was raising their glasses to the way we were dancing. One certain man though wasn’t very pleased with the way I was dancing.

My vision was slightly blurry, but I could tell from the facial expression and the crossed arms that his blood was boiling and the more I was shaking my ass, the more he was ready to throw hands to the other men that were drooling over me and then grab me from the waist and drag me out of the club. I slowly stopped and was about to go sit down with the boys of my friend group, when I felt a sudden arm forcing me away from the couch.

“What the fuck were you thinking? Or were you not thinking at all?” his voice has risen an octave higher than the music and had shaken me to my core. He has never yelled at me.

“I was just dancing. There’s no need to yell at me.”

“Almost 50 men were one step away from getting on the dance floor and laying their hands on you. Do you call that ‘just dancing’?”

“I wasn’t dancing alone, and I wasn’t the only one dancing in that manner.”

“Do you think I care what the other girls do?”

“I still don’t get where all this possessiveness comes from? I get that we have a good time together, I love you and you love me, but we aren’t in a relationship. You don’t own me. I can do whatever I want.”

“You do whatever you want and yet you let me play with you whenever you’re near me. You never stop me. You haven’t slept with other men since we last met and you always talk about how much you are missing me. I only talk about you to my friends, and I refuse to go on dates knowing you’re in another country saving yourself. So, forgive me if I care about you even though I am not your boyfriend.”

As much as it pains me sometimes to admit, I would give anything for him to be my boyfriend. He is the only man I trust with my heart and body. I hadn’t fallen in love with another man ever since we first kissed back when I turned 18. So yes, I can complain as much as I want.

“Feeling better now? I have stopped dancing, and I will go home to wear my nun costume so no man in sight sees any possible skin from my body. Will this please you? Or should I cover my face as well?”

“What would please me is if I had you every day close to my body, wrapped inside my arms, kissing your every inch day and night, claim you as mine forever but god forbid, we are ever in the same place for at least 2 weeks.”

I do not hold back, and I grab his face into my palms and kiss him fiercely. Every time we kiss, I get more and more intoxicated. I am being drugged by the best possible addictive poison. My heart is filled to the very top and I do not desire anything else more in this world that having him kissing me until my breath is cut short.

His tongue dances with mine and the feeling of vodka mixed with gin burns my throat in a pleasing way. I can feel my lipstick being smudged all over his face and as my hands are wrapped around his neck, my leg finds its way around his waist to pull him closer to my body. Everything betrays his power on me as I can feel him growing against me and moaning softly.

“Not here. I need you all for myself. Where are you staying?”

In just a few minutes I find myself slammed against the shower wall, with the water covering both our bodies, extending the heat. His lips found their way on my neck and his fingers are playing with my hardened nipples. My mouth can’t possibly contain the ungodly moans that he is producing and fuck him nothing can ever top this.

“Say once more than you aren’t mine and I will stop being gentle with you.”

“I am so yours. No other man kisses me the way you do. No other man touches me the way you do.”

“No sweetheart, no other man is allowed to touch you. Get it?”

“Fuck, yes.”

Words barely are being phrased properly as I scream in pleasure when he softly bites my nipple after having bitted my collarbone. I have come to terms with the fact that I love it when he is biting me. It’s his way of showing that he loves me. I literally have no control of my body the moment he lays his kisses on me. Its absolutely beautiful.

“I love no one else but you. Oh, how I adore you.” I manage to mumble through the groans.

“What an angel you are. From the moment I met you I knew I was done. Oh, you are never leaving my grasp.”

“Then don’t make me leave. I can be yours, I am yours.”

He then proceeds to fall on his knees, so he can be met with my womanhood as he raised my leg over his shoulder for better view.

“Facetiming you will never compare to the real deal. Oh, my beauty.” And my hands instantly grab against his hair and pull then tightly as his tongue is toying with my wet core. Every inch of my body is trembling and I can’t physically stop moaning his name that by now even the neighbours are well aware of his existence.

“Be mine. Be mine forever. I will give you anything, all I want in return is you.”

“Don’t stop. Oh, I missed you. You take care of me better than anyone else.”

“I can’t go another 3 months without seeing you. Stay with me.”

“I love you but oh my, you know I can’t.”

“Be my girlfriend. Please let me be yours. Let me claim you as mine. Let me take care of you for the rest of your life.”

I look down on him as his lips detach from myself and the cold breeze of the shower hits me with an open mouth from the shock he just caused. I never in my life thought he would ask me to be his girlfriend. It made my heart shutter when I couldn’t have him years ago and now that I am given the chance, everything restored. All I could possibly ask for.

“You probably found the best timing in the world to ask me such question. At my most vulnerable.”

“Want me to ask you after I am finished eating you up darling?”

“I mean, no, my answer would be the very same.”

“Which is? Care to share with an impatient man?”

“A million times yes. Do you think I have spent all this money in visiting you for you to ask me that question and then say no? I would have been insane.”

“You kind of are insane.”

“Excuse me?”

“You go insane every time we kiss and then you drive me insane so we are even.”

“Insane boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Surely the perfect match.”

[cheesus-doodles]

Going Home: Chapter 5

Yandere Platonic Toman + Time Leaper Darling

Masterlist

‎‎

Going Home: Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

happy thanksgiving! sorry I fell off the earth for a while, died and the immigration queue back from hell took forever, read: took an unexpected hiatus from burnout :'(

Draken stood face to face with Baji, abyss eyes gazing back blankly at the other’s. Panting heavily despite the short distance covered by them both - Draken knew Baji’s shop was just a few streets away from here - their heavy breaths the only sound that echoed down empty residential streets. 

A fucking time leaper. 

Of all the bloody things in the world. 

The thumping of his heart in his ears was hard and furious as Draken turned the information over and over in his head, again and again. It had to be true, what you told his past self. Everything lined up too well for it to not be: your sudden disappearances twelve years ago, your perpetual state of absence from their world, their inability to find even a lick of evidence that you existed somewhere out there save for those old pictures they had pinched from your house. You had simply been lost to the flow of time, drifting in and out of their timeline by some unknown means.

It was a blessing of rain on their gasping earth, this new information, no matter how big of a headache he had getting a blast of memories straight to the brain - you weren’t dead. You hadn’t left this earth, left them. There was still a chance to get you back, to make things right.

Far above his head, the flicker of a streetlight broke the stillness of the thick air, the tick of a clock inside a darkened shop indicating the seconds slipping by with every heaving breath Draken took. It was far too late on a weekday night to be awake in any other circumstance: there was work and school to attend to tomorrow, and the apartments towering above were dark and silent, its residents long asleep. Yet no matter how insignificant their struggles seemed in the face of the world that continued to turn - you were after all just another missing person among thousands of others - here they were, two former delinquents once known and feared for their might gathered like devout cultists. And for any unfortunate soul who might happen to look upon them, Draken mused, they could pass off as some sort of cultist, or madmen even - Baji wasn’t even wearing a shirt for fucks’ sake. The First Division Captain must have been asleep when the memories were cannonballed straight into his head, and had grabbed his apron out of instinct instead of a shirt. He, on the other hand, was at least clad in his working overalls, the wrench he had taken to a customer’s bike ten minutes ago still clutched in hand.

Letting out a shuddering breath, Draken forced himself to focus. There were more urgent questions that needed an answer over him dwelling on the could-bes. Like why now? Why the sudden recollection, an uncontrolled flare of memories that he didn’t previously have? Did something change, perhaps linked to you and your particular situation, that triggered these new memories in not only him but in Baji as well? 

His mind instantly jumped back to four nights ago, when Takemichi had muscled his way back into his life unannounced, those flabby lips boldly asking after you and your whereabouts as if he had any right to do so. Sure, he had thought then that the questions being asked were strange and out of place, off-putting even, but now that he had the time to think and turn the meeting over, now more than ever, the former Toman Vice Captain was sure it couldn’t be a mere coincidence. It wasn’t possible. 

Could it be that Takemichi knew about the new memories? Scratch that, did that scrawny little bastard know about you and your time leaping? Had the two of you met before without the Toman founders’ knowledge? And who was that other man that had been with Takemichi?

Baji’s train of thoughts, however, seemed to have gone down a slightly different path. “So that means that omamori - it didn’t work?” The pet shop owner’s almost panicked question broke Draken out from his pondering. “Did you lose it?”

Almost instinctively, Draken’s hand went to his neck, though the purple and gold charm hadn’t hung there in years. Where had that gone? Try as he might, his mind was blank, the bike-loving mechanic struggling to even recall the last time he had seen the small embroidered cloth. What happened to the omamori in the past twelve years? Had it been misplaced somewhere along the way? He hadn’t thought about it much, not since you went missing all those years ago. But how could he have just simply forgotten about something as important as that? Something that was so inherently…you? You had always been the one to bear the charm, a symbol of the place you once held at the center of Toman, a symbol of the protection its delinquent founders afforded you.

Either way, wherever the omamori had gone now, he was sure that right before you were lost to time - “I had it,” Draken mumbled. “I’m sure I had it with me when she went missing. The memory, I just got that.”

‎

‎

The former First Division Captain of the Tokyo Manji Gang has had a long day. A long, tiring, annoying day. Running a pet shop while working towards his vet license was far from the easiest thing, and Baji had used up most of his energy between stopping himself from letting his notoriously short temper loose on several irritating customers who didn’t know how close they came to meeting the business end of his fists, and attempting to understand the absolutely convoluted material he needed to learn for one of many classes. So when he had finally tumbled into bed at the end of the day, exhausted and ready for the welcome of sleep, the last thing he expected was to have what felt like an ice pick to his head - a sudden blast of memories and recollections that the man couldn’t control, that he didn’t have before, that ached and burned as they bombarded his mind, settling between existing memories as if they had always been there.

It gave him a serious headache that no amount of ice could get rid off - which sucked a ton, of course - but even through the gnawing throb, it gave him a renewed sense of hope that Baji clung to like a drowning man to a life buoy. You weren’t dead. No, you were very, very much alive, even now while you were still lost to the grasp of time. The main question was why? Why were you still missing? They had it all figured out twelve years ago. Your disappearance was supposed to have been solved.

Baji’s hands moved to grab Draken by the front of his shirt, shaking the other man vigorously. “If you had it, then she shouldn’t be here,” the black-haired man snarled, his fists tightening around the rough material of the overalls. “She wouldn’t have gone missing twelve years ago.”

“There must be more to it then,” the man in the overalls muttered under his breath, one hand coming up to grasp his chin . “Maybe it’s not just the omamori.”

Something beyond the charm?

Yellow eyes scanned the surroundings as he contemplated the recent revelations. The alley where the two of them now stood held many bitter memories, given it was where you had disappeared from the first time, though the large grass patch a stone’s throw away wasn’t any more reassuring. It was where your school once stood, where he recalled picking you up from countless times from the curb, his loud motorbike drawing stares and shudders alike, where the Toman founders once regular gathered to dish out beatings to your schoolmates for their insolence towards you, where your life had revolved around. 

The building was long gone, burnt down in an act of arson that the police declined to investigate, with the rumor mills pointed at organized crime - and this man could guess exactly which one. The black-haired former delinquent hesitated, before speaking again. “But what else? Intention?”

Draken brushed his questions off, those abyss eyes focusing. “This isn’t the time to figure this out, Baji. The new memories; it has to be because she time leapt again, which means -”

“She’s here.” Baji’s mind raced with the implications, his entire mind feeling as if it was on fire - once sleepy and exhausted from the day’s work but now running at full speed. That memory of you comforting the Toman founders after your return, telling them that you were a time leaper. You were alive for now, though it would be hard to say how long that would last - if you had truly time leapt and were now here, in their future, then the pet shop owner had yet to see head or toe of you. “The first time she went missing, where could she have gone?” 

What was it that made you so reluctant to tell your friends what happened in the future?

Something seemed to click into place in Draken's brain, the growing horror on his face telling Baji everything he needed to know about the resolved puzzle. “Mikey.” 

The sole name was uttered like the arriving finale of an apocalypse. 

It made sense. You would do that - you would, if it was Mikey. If it was any of your beloved friends.

The two of them make a break for it as if on cue, sprinting towards the same destination with a wordless agreement; your house, Baji knew as he willed himself to go faster. It was where he was sure you would go if you were really here. 

If you died here, in their future, would that also mean that you would also die back in the past where you came from? Would he never see you again? Your warm smile and loving hugs flashed through Baji’s mind, and he bit his tongue. No, that wasn’t a thought he was even going to entertain. Nothing close to that would even be the slightest bit acceptable. They were going to find you, and they were going to make sure you got home. Safely.

“How long has it been? Since the memories?”

“15 minutes.”

There was no response from Draken this time, though both men’s strides hastened, flying across the concrete as they rounded the corner almost at the same time, nearly crashing into each other, their curses flying free from their lips and into the night sky. There were a lot of things they needed to ask you, but now the most important thing was that they needed to get to you, before Mikey’s fingers could close around you.

‎

‎

“Do you think she’s some sort of time traveler?”

Kakucho startled, blinking as he turned away from watching the familiar sights and sounds of Tokyo rushing by outside of the limousine. “Pardon?”

The ride from Bonten HQ had been completely silent up till now, the whirl of the air-conditioning combined with the light patter of rain having been just loud enough to cover the sound of the two men breathing. It was tense, and though that usually would be the right way to describe being in any sort of confined space with Sanzu, this time was different. 

Despite the former Tenjiku member being one of two people who had what could be counted as a decent relationship with the other’s maniacal state, there was something about this rational pink-haired man that sent a shiver running down Kakucho’s spine. Sure, the usually rabid, drugged-up Sanzu had always been unpredictable when it came to his next move or even his next thought, but this version of Bonten’s second in command with forced mental clarity was downright dangerous; he had a singular goal to achieve, and it was Mikey’s survival. At any expense.

Said man didn’t move, continuing to simply gaze out of the car with an uncharacteristic calmness, alert half-lidded green eyes lifting momentarily to glance at Kakucho through the reflection in the tinted window glass. “Do you think she’s a time traveler?” He repeated. 

Kakucho almost laughed out loud, though it was years of discipline and control over his expression that stopped his facial muscles from even twitching. He would have let the chuckle stuck in his throat loose if it was anyone else that occupied the far end of the car, if there was the slightest possibility that Sanzu had been joking around. But there was no humor in the other’s tone, nothing that would indicate the question wasn’t genuine, nor was Mikey’s right-hand man the only one to have this particular idea. 

Leaning back into his seat, his arms folding across his chest, Kakucho himself recalled having a similar train of thought the first time he had stumbled into your room and his eye was met with your trembling pair. “I believe she would be a good candidate for one,” the Bonten Number Three carefully answered, every word painstakingly picked, all the while making sure to keep his sole working eye trained on Sanzu. “If there is any possibility that time traveling exists.”

Sanzu tsked, clearly annoyed at Kakucho’s indirect answer. Perhaps he was looking for a more yes or no answer? “She looks exactly the same from back when Toman was around,” the pink-haired man mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for the black-haired man to catch.

The car once more fell into a tense silence as the two men sat and stewed in their own thoughts, the lights of the world outside flashing by uncaringly. Kakucho turned his focus once more to the phone clutched in his hand, absentmindedly scrolling through the updates back from headquarters that constantly lit up his screen, his face as stoic as it always was - without a doubt in his mind, the real you had been a clear one-to-one match to your picture from twelve years ago Mikey had provided. You looked too young to have been missing for so many years. 

This whole situation all sounded too much like a sick joke that someone out there was playing with them and their very lives, but the sinking feeling in his gut told Kakucho everything he needed to know; there was no way that this was the end just yet.

‎

By the time the sleek black limousine pulled up along your street, the minutes the ride had taken from Bonten Headquarters to your street felt more like hours. The rain had now become heavier, fat droplets falling from the night sky pelting everything and anything below, the moon and stars that usually twinkled in the dark of space obscured by storm clouds rolling past overhead. The air was thick, humid, and weighty with every breath.

It was one of those rare times that Kakucho could genuinely claim that he was nervous, the pound of his heart in his chest hard enough that he could almost hear it echoing in the car even if expression remained as impassive as it always have been. 

The only other time your house alarm had been tripped, yes it was indeed you who he had found. And even this time, he had the constant confirmation back from headquarters that it was someone who managed your general statue that was loitering around the vicinity of what used to be your home, but the what-ifs continued to plague Kakucho. What if it was all a mere coincidence, and he and Sanzu find someone else instead; a burglar, maybe an unsuspecting passerby taking shelter? What if it was you, but by the time they arrived you were already gone? What if someone else got to you first? 

Kakucho shook his head, attempting to pull his full focus back to reality as the car rolled to a full stop outside the all-too familiar house, the two men preparing to leave. There was little point in entertaining such anxiety driven thoughts. They will find out soon enough whether you were truly back. 

As soon as the door on his end swung open, the unease instantly drained away from the black-haired man - there you were. Seated on the steps of the front porch of your house, you were truly a sight for sore eyes amidst the pouring rain, the brightly colored pajamas that you wore making you stick out against the backdrop of your unlit house. You must have been asleep before you were…pulled (from where, Kakucho would make no assumptions at this current point in time), no surprise given the time of night.

You gave them a small wave as two umbrellas sprouted up from the car door like mushrooms, a moving refuge from the anger of the heavers; your gaze following them as the two men strolled up the street, letting themselves in through the small gate at front of your house. “Hello again,” you greeted cheerfully as you stood, pausing momentarily to dust the back of your pants off. “Kakucho-san, Sanzu-san.” 

Kakucho nodded in acknowledgement, his sole red eye glancing cautiously around the neighborhood. It was dead silent, the row of bland gray houses that stretched as far he could see all dark and unlit, though to the seasoned yakuza, the calmness was far from reassuring, the dark of night only equating to more places for potential threats to find. It was dangerous to have you out in the open like that, especially with your association with Bonten. “Why aren’t you waiting inside for us?” 

You shrugged. “I didn’t have my keys on me this time,” you answered honestly.

Sanzu’s scarred lips pulled downwards in clear disapproval of your decision, the pink-haired man turning back towards the waiting limousine, not waiting to see if you followed, his umbrella bobbing slightly with each stride. “This way.”

Time traveler, the two words echoed again in Kakucho’s head as he patiently waited for you, watching as you hopped the last few steps to take shelter under his umbrella as he walked you out to the car, your comparatively juvenile face turning to beam up at him. If there was any doubt before, he was more certain of it than not. There was simply no way you weren’t a time leaper.

‎

‎

Sanzu couldn’t find it in himself to be angry at your lack of awareness. Hell, his sheer hatred of you had been draining away with every new forceful injection of memories, and the former Toman delinquent could hardly recall why he resented you so much to begin with at this point. Those voices that had been nagging at the back of his mind for the past fourteen years seemingly having been silenced for good; then again, it could also just be him weaning off the cocktail of drugs he had religiously been on. Who knows? You had always been a good egg as far as he could remember, a kind soul to whoever you met whether or not Mikey and the other less-important founders approved. Had it just been mere jealousy over the closeness you shared with his king that had driven him to that extreme? 

The pink-haired man rubbed at his temples, the most recent blast of new memories straight into his brain having given him a splitting headache, the aftereffects still radiating from the back of his head. The rain pounding away on his umbrella and everywhere in general wasn’t helping either. Perhaps it was because the last round he had been unconscious after being shot while high on drugs, cause he didn’t remember the experience being this painful or defined previously. 

But more importantly, with every new wave, he was now as certain as he is that the path to hell is hot that one, the omamori from the founding of the Toman gang - the purple and gold one that he had seen you carry twelve years ago as a testament to your favor from Mikey - had something to do with your disappearance twelve years ago. And two: you were definitely some sort of time traveler. If not, the new memories he got of you from the past just wouldn’t make sense, why would you be attempting to apologize for nothing? You had to be apologizing for getting him in trouble with Mikey (after he attempted to strangle you to death, that is, but that was a small detail).

Thunder rumbled in the distance, a clear sign of displeasure from the heavens on Sanzu’s heretic thoughts - time leaping, of all possible things. He was never going to live it down if he was wrong, the Haitani brothers would make sure of that. But then again, didn’t Rindou also say that he got those new memories? 

The heavy rain continued to pour relentlessly, dampening the scar-lipped man’s mood further as he tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for Kakucho and you to catch up. Honestly, could you be any slower?

‎

It was the sudden sound of pounding in the distance that first caught his ear, a faint thumping that stood out from the otherwise rhythmic rain pelting down to earth; a sound that Sanzu identified as running. You were about halfway to the limo now, and the Bonten second-in-command willed you to move faster. If it had been any other time, it wouldn’t be such a red flag. But this was a residential estate, in the middle of the night.

No sane person would be running at this time.

A suspicious glance around by clear green eyes yielded nothing at first, the drumming of feet was certainly still there amidst the rain, but the coast was clear as of now, and the mafioso opted to stay on high alert. Years of delinquency followed by a descent into the yakuza world had taught Sanzu not to let his guard down easily, and he signaled to Kakucho, urging him to hurry you up, a telltale tingle running down his spine. 

He didn’t like this one bit - they were exposed on the street, moving slowly with a precious payload. No good news. The faster all of them could get into the limousine and get out of this place, the better.

Those footsteps though, they just kept coming closer and closer, growing ever louder and stronger with every tick from his watch. 

And the next thing Sanzu knew, it was the screech of shoes turning a wet concrete corner way too fast, and then the awfully familiar and wholly unwelcomed silhouettes of Draken and Baji came screeching round the corner, their eyes instantly snapping first to you, and then moving to glance between him and Kakucho, their eyes widening simultaneously as it dawned on them what they were witnessing. Both plainly-colored mobs of long hair were obviously soaked even from this distance, the drenched clothes and lack of umbrellas that the former Toman founders were clad in telling the Bonten mafioso everything he needed to do now. 

They must have gotten the new memories as well. They must know now.

Fuck, what had happened in the past? How is it more and more people were getting the memories?

“Draken? Baji?” You wondered out loud, your voice tinted uncertainty as to whether who you saw speeding towards you were indeed the Toman founders you knew.

He glanced at them again, and then at the car. Godammit, their pace was picking up. Maybe if he had been a bit faster, a bit more insistent in herding you into the car. Maybe if he had just grabbed you and hurled you over his shoulder like potatoes. 

But it was too little too late. This wasn’t part of the plan. Sanzu couldn’t lose you to them now - not with Mikey’s life on the line.

“Fucking hell,” the man with the scarred lips swore, throwing aside his umbrella, his now freed hand reaching under his coat and pulling out his gun from its holster in one smooth move, flicking the safety off as he raised the weapon.

You, however, were faster. “No! Sanzu, don’t!” 

Throwing yourself straight at his gun with a panicked cry, said mafiaso had no choice other than to immediately lower his weapon to avoid your outstretched hands, the click of the safety switching back on lost in the pouring rain. Now that you were finally back with Bonten, the last thing Sanzu wanted to do was to be responsible for the death of his king by accidentally shooting you.

He turned to bark at the other Bonten member. “Cover me, Kakucho!”

Said man lept into action, withdrawing his firearm, aiming and firing off two shots at the ground in front of the charging Toman founder, forcing them to screech to a halt, though their quaking eyes remained fixed on you.

You screamed.

With a quick holster of his gun, Sanzu swung, his arm catching you around the middle, and you were shoved through the open car door into the backseat of the limousine, the purple-suited man quickly following suit.

The roar of anger from both Draken and Baji reverberated through the streets, their sheer fury palpable. “SANZU!” Draken bellowed. “LET HER GO!”

”I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU SANZU!” Baji thundered in unison, his mob of black hair whipping backwards amidst the equally ferocious rain.

Sanzu wasn’t going to wait around to find out. “’We’re leaving!” He barked at Kakucho, simultaneously giving the driver’s divide a few rapid pounds.

Keeping his gun raised, Kakucho retreated quickly, throwing himself through the open car door that slammed shut behind him. The car peeled off, leaving Draken and Baji standing on the curb right outside your house, staring at the car disappearing into the rainy mist.

‎

‎

On the other end of the sleepy Tokyo metropolitan, the rain was equally relentless, a harsh howling wind rattling windows as it swept the fat raindrops inwards, drenching a miserable and already shivering Takemichi. The three more raps on Naoto’s front door were barely audible through the chaos that the sky was remaining down, though the former delinquent opted to resume his nervous pacing up and down along the apartment corridor, his furrowed brows and lost gaze accurately portraying the turmoil in his head. It had to be you, the twenty-six year old thought to himself as he wrung his hands in despair - that glimpse of a fleeting shadow he spotted near where your school once stood; it had to be. There was no doubt about it. 

Yet he didn’t have a single whiff of evidence to back his claim up, just that churning feeling in the pit of his gut. Takemichi let out a low groan, slumping against the tiled wall, the wet tiles making little difference to his already soggy clothes. At this point, what else could he do but only hope against hope that it was enough to convince the younger Tachibana?

So occupied in his turbulent thoughts that he missed the beige door - one of many identical ones that lined the entire hallway - creaking open, a familiar mob of black hair peering out. “Takemichi? What’re you doing here at this time?”

Takemichi turned robotically at the words before turning back to face the open air and pelting rain, before his messy brain did a double take and it registered who had spoken. The tears sprang forth before he could stop them. 

“Nao-Naoto!” The former delinquent wailed, barreling his way into the house and almost running the other man over before Naoto could reprimand him for his atrocious lack of respect for the neighbors. The apartment was as it always was, always had been in every timeline; plainly decorated, clean and neat, not that it mattered to a borderline hysterical Takemichi at the moment.

“I-I saw her, Naoto! N-near her school lot! I swear it was her!” He rambled, his hands clutching his shirt with a death grip, explosively energized from frayed nerves even as blown eyes glanced between the cupboard and Naoto. “You have to believe me!”

His head pounded. Naoto must believe him. He has to.

“....kemichi! Takemichi!”

His head flew left sharply, his ears ringing from the force. The stinging pain on his cheek only set in seconds later. But it finally broke Takemichi out from his meltdown, snapping him straight back to reality.

“I know she’s back! I got it, breathe,” Naoto directed the hyperventilating man to have a seat at the dining table before shuffling away, returning with two steaming mugs. ”Feeling better?”

Hand coming up to hesitatingly poke at the reddening and swelling cheek, the former delinquent throwing a dirty side-eye at the younger Tachibana sibling, though he was quick to drop his look when the other turned to face him. ”You didn’t have to hit me,” Takemichi muttered, before grumbling his begrudging thanks as he accepted the cup.

Naoto raised an eyebrow, taking the opposite seat. “You weren’t listening.”

“Okay, okay, fine. So you believe me?”

“I do,” the detective nodded. “And I have news for you. Bad news.” From a side drawer, he retrieved what seemed like a small piece of paper and slid it across the table to Takemichi. A photograph of some sorts. The image itself was blurry and hard to make out, as if it had been taken quickly, perhaps in passing or if the photographer had to hide after the snap..

Blue eyes squinted as Takemichi tried to interpret the picture, lifting it closer to his face. What was this even supposed to be? A white cat or something hiding among some large rocks? But those rectangular light sources could pass for a shop window? The photo was all but pressed against his nose before Naoto forcibly yanked Takemictchi’s hand back far enough to tap at the mob of white-hair. 

The former delinquent looked up at the other man. “This is…”

”Mikey,” Naoto said resolutely. “Bonten’s boss.”

‎

The air was still in the apartment as the former Toman member followed the detective’s pointing finger up to those black eyes, the storm outside lashing out against the windows and thunder booming in the distance filling the tense silence. It couldn’t be. That couldn’t be true, Takemichi tried to tell himself, a desperate chuckle slipping his lips as he waited for Naoto to break into a laugh. A smile. To say that he was joking, to name another person, another cruel entity that could possibly commit such heinous crimes. Anything.

Because it couldn’t be. Not the Mikey he knew. 

But even the quirk of his lips drained away when the Tachibana didn’t break the moody tension, his severe expression never wavering. Naoto meant it.

It was like a physical punch to his gut.

“Mikey?” Takemichi gasped out, barely able to catch his breath. The images of those tormented souls and their broken bodies that Naoto had shown him previously roared straight to the front of his mind once more, his face turning green from the mere memory. “It can’t be- Mikey wouldn’t-” Mikey wouldn’t do something like that, was what he wanted to say, the words dying on his lips as those blue eyes trembled with unshed tears.

The smoke from the tea wafted lazily through the air, the smell of green tea light and fragrant; a small relief from the heavy atmosphere that weighed down on his chest.

Yet Naoto pressed on, all but ignoring the stammered rebuttal; facts were unfortunately facts. He tapped the photo once more, and Takemichi’s eyes followed his finger to the small figure with their face turned upwards, almost completely hidden between the ring of black - the backs of bodyguards, his mind instinctively told him - and Mikey. “And that,” the detective said seriously. “Is who you’re looking for.”

Your name sprang instantly to the tip of Takemichi’s tongue, but he swallowed it back down on instinct alone before he could accidentally let it slip through his lips, lest one of the Toman founders hear of his transgressions through time. “The seventh Toman Founder,” he said, almost reverently. You were like a myth, a legend to all who made up Toman’s ranks, your mere name alone enough to send a shiver of fear down the spines of the black-clad boys. He still had never met nor seen you in person - and it all the more seemed to reinforce that legendary status. “This is her?”

Naoto nodded. “This was taken last week, about five days ago.” From the same side drawer, the police detective took out a case file, your school photo prominently pinned to the front.

Wait. The two photos, it wasn’t possible. “But she looks exactly the same…”

“Which means she is a time leaper,” Naoto confirmed. “Like you, Takemichi. There’s no doubt about it now.”  A pause, as the younger man let his words sink in, before he continued. “But the difference is that she’s not in her older body. She’s switching places completely.”

“Plus her time leaping is overriding mine. There’s no new timeline, not even after we saved Draken. Just new memories?”

“New memories, yes. I haven’t received anything as of late, so I don’t know if she’s here or in the past at the moment. And on top of all this, we still don’t know if anyone else is getting those memories too.”

The throb of his mind as Takemichi to wrestle with and digest the avalanche of new information only served to reinforce just how convoluted this entire situation was. “So-  Naoto, do you think she may have already told Mikey that she’s a time leaper?”

Said detective frowned. “She could have - they are good friends, no? He, and the rest of Toman, could very well be getting the memories as well.”

Takemichi slumps down in his seat; that would complicate things a lot. A ton, in fact. He desperately needs to speak with you, and fast; just to understand better what he could do to break the cycle, and perhaps even learn more about his own time leaping abilities - if you were capable of changing memories, you might have already inevitably told Mikey and the others that you were a time leaper. 

The one problem was figuring out if you’re here in the future or back in the past, and it wasn’t as if he could just saunter up and ask without turning into a smear on the street. Takemichi’s best bet would be trying to catch you here, in what was your future, somewhere he could talk to you without the shadow of the Toman founders hanging over you; but if Mikey and Bonten already had you in his grasp… 

Then the chance of Takemichi being able to speak to you would be close to zero. 

He needed a solution and stat.

‎

‎

The limousine sped by familiar roads, the rain that refused to let up a cacophony of sound against the metal shell of the limousine. It at least brought you a momentary solace, your heart continuing to race away like the pounding feet of a horse as you tried to process what had just happened. Everything looked glazed over, as if you were viewing the world around you through a layer of frosted glass, your eyes swirling around in your head as you tried to catch your breath, tried to stop your thoughts from spiralling down an unending and hopeless abyss.

Draken and Baji - they were right there. Your precious friends. 

Not only were you back in the same future, with the same tired, bone-thin Mikey you remembered leaving behind, the friends you had thought the worst had happened to were still a part of this timeline. 

Why hadn’t Mikey answered you all that time ago, when you had asked him about where the rest of your friends were? You had assumed the white-haired man only refused to speak due to an incomprehensible tragedy that befell his once-closest allies, that had ripped the rest of the Toman founders away from him and left him in that sorry state. You had felt that profound sadness pouring from your friend, experienced the grief that clenched at your heart. And you had decided not to pry, to not surface what would be extremely painful memories. 

But you had seen them with your own eyes, and they were fine. Alive, breathing. Caring. They had come for you even in the torrential rain, fists swinging, yelling and pissing off your neighbours in the process as they always did. Nothing you could stay mad at, really.

So why? Why didn’t Mikey want to tell you? Why wasn’t he in contact with the rest?

The lights that flashed by through heavily tinted windows held no answers for you, the dull pinks, purples and yellows of the fluorescent signs that made it through briefly illuminating the skin of your hand before fading back into the shadows as quickly as it came, the car leaving the quiet residential streets for the city that never sleeps.

You needed to speak with the future’s Draken and Baji, you decided. You weren’t sure how, given what you had witnessed earlier and Mikey’s likely clinginess, but you had to find out what was going on. If not to find out if they perhaps knew anything about your time leaping that you didn’t, then at least to understand the chasm that had developed between your friends.

‎

“Fuck, I’m fucking drenched!” Sanzu complained loudly, pulling at the soaked purple striped vest and allowing the heavy cloth to sag under its own weight. Kakuchi himself grimaced at his own dripping state, but said nothing save to grunt in acknowledgement.

There was no doubt about it now, you mused to yourself albeit grimly as you settled back into the car seat, your pajamas squelching slightly under you as you glanced between a grumbling Sanzu and a stoic Kakucho. You sure hoped that the pink-haired man wasn’t going to use the opportunity to wrap his hands around your throat again, though he did seem pretty calm this time. Still, you still opted to shift somewhat towards Kakucho. Just to be safe. 

Fidgeting with the hem of your pajamas, you glanced out the window again. The tension simmering in the car, combined with the sheer silence that permeated the air, made the atmosphere a bit too heavy for comfort. You bit your lip. What to say? “How’s Mikey?” You decided on asking. At least the one thing that you knew for sure that both men were fiercely loyal to Mikey, not that you wanted to know why the devotion; some things were better not known, much like how you avoided asking your Toman friends what they’ve been up to while you were away. 

The sudden stillness was deafening. Even the patter of raindrops faded away, blanketed by this oppressive tranquility that weighed on your chest, on you. You hardly dared to breathe, let alone move, with both Sanzu and Kakucho seeming to freeze on your question. Were they unsure on how to answer you? Scarred lips twitched as if making to speak, those piercing green eyes darting sideways to meet yours before drifting away, Sanzu ultimately deciding against whatever it was he wanted to say. Kakucho simply continued to face forward, though you did catch his sole working red eye fixed on you, unspoken words lost to the raging storm.

The pink-haired man finally replied. “Mikey’s…not doing well,” was all he said, before he turned to look back out the window, his hand dipping into his striped vest’s pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes, though he ultimately thought better of it and stuffed the crumpled box back.

You stared at him, mouth agape. Turning to Kakucho only resulted in the other man avoiding your gaze. If that was all the two had to say, then this was not good. Not in the slightest.

‎

Your heart wrenched when Sanzu led you into the infirmary, with your two sets of footsteps echoing off the white walls The spotless room was enormous, empty beds lining both walls, neatly made with their curtains drawn - save for one at the far end. And it was in the sole occupied bed that you spotted Mikey’s frail frame, a small lump under the covers, his white-hair all but blending into the clean sheets. Sighing, you sank down into the hard plastic chair, your hand reaching out to brush against the pulled covers. “Mikey,” you whispered, the sole word heavy with guilt. You wanted to touch him, to run your fingers gently through his hair, to pull your friend into your arms and assure him everything would be all right. That he needn’t suffer, that you would care for him.

But you restrained yourself, your arm falling limply to one side. This was all your fault. You had been too hasty, too eager to return home, too assured in the idea that this timeline would simply fade into your memory, that the outcome would change when you did so little. But now, reality was staring you cold in the face, and you couldn’t think of a time when you had seen Mikey so frail.

At the sound of your voice, the form stirred, stiff shoulders instantly relaxing as those abyss eyes met yours, blinking weakly. You saw your name formed on his lips, though no sound left his throat. It seemed that even the sight of you had completely relaxed the broken man. 

A soft click, as Sanzu quietly exited the room, leaving you and Mikey alone. “I brought you some food Mikey. Would you like to have something to eat or drink?” You showed the white-haired man the paper-wrapped taiyaki and the glass of water you had brought with you; upon your earlier arrival, Sanzu had brought you straight to the kitchens to whip up something quick. You had your suspicions on what had happened, though you hadn’t quite realized just how bad it had gotten until you laid eyes on Mikey.

Fortunately, it seemed Mikey instantly recognized the cake as your handmade variety, not store-bought or Sanzu’s, and as if on cue, his stomach began to rumble. Your lips quirked a small smile, and you turned to set the glass of water down, before tearing off a small chunk of taiyaki. Cooling it down with a blow, you carefully dipped it in some water to moisten the piece (heresy, but so much easier to eat for someone who hadn’t in four days), before holding it up to your friend’s lips. “Ahhhhh.”

The white-haired man obliged, his lips parting to allow you to press the small morsel of food into his mouth. A quick bite and then swallow. You managed to repeat the process two more times before the other’s eyes were all but closed, the exhaustion setting in now with some food in his belly. 

Rewrapping the taiyaki in its paper, you kicked off your shoes, climbed onto the infirmary bed and settled next to Mikey. His eyes already fluttered shut, it didn’t stop him from wrapping his arms around you and tucking his face into the crook of your neck as you crawled under the sheets, the other’s breathing evening out before you closed your eyes, finally at peace.

‎

‎

Twelve years separate from you and stuck in the past where they couldn’t get to you, the Toman founders once more found themselves in a conundrum they had no answers to.

Kazutora’s hysterical wails, a piercing cry that the boy couldn’t seem to stop and had been all that anyone within a hundred meter radius would have heard for a good half-hour, had thankfully died down into whimpers, his throat sore though the situation was far from resolved. The fearsome delinquent had been reduced to nothing more than a sniffling baby clutching onto your well-worn sweater, one that smelt strongly of you, his tears soaking the cloth as he buried his face into the soft material.

“She time-lept again?” Baji let out a groan, hands pulling at his face, his sweat-drenched black hair plastered uncomfortably to the nape of his neck. “But how? We have the omamori.”

“And it hasn’t left me since I got it,” Draken noted, pulling down the singlet he had opted for to reveal the purple and gold charm still pressed tight against his clavicle, where he had been wearing it day and night. “I wear it even when I shower.”

The weather was sweltering, the summer afternoon sun mercilessly baking everything and everyone under its light, and the lack of even a hot breeze made the whole situation ever so less tolerable. Gathered below the shade of your favourite oak tree in a clearing not too far from your school, it was once more an unfavourable situation over which the Toman founders were gathered, 

Mikey pulled a face, looking extremely unimpressed as sweat poured freely off his forehead. “Maybe it’s cause I should have been the one to wear it.” 

Kazutora only whimpered again in response, his fingers wrapping around your piece of clothing even tighter. Everyone present knew what he meant without speaking.

“Drop it Mikey, that’s not the issue right now.” Mitsuya sighed out, the relief at no longer being blamed for your disappearance clear on his expression even if his distress at you being missing wasn’t any less.

A pause, the uncaring city continuing to bustle around them.

“Maybe,” Pah said carefully, the usually loud boy looking like he was concentrating extraordinarily hard on the current situation, his forehead scrunched with his chin held in one hand. “Maybe there’s another omamori in the future as well.”

The other five boys robotically turned to look at the Fifth Division Captain as if he had grown a second head, their necks stiff and creaking. They hadn’t considered that possibility in the slightest, and the unusual insight from the usually act-first-think-later boy caught them off guard.

“It makes sense,” The lilac-haired delinquent admitted, Mitsuya drawing one leg up to balance on the bench. “We hadn’t thought of it, but why wouldn’t there be this omamori in the future?”

“Could have lost it,” Draken suggested.

Mikey snorted. “No way.” To which the other founders present murmured their agreement - it would be unlikely for them to misplace something so precious. “But I agree. There must be more to just having the omamori.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Baji lamented, running one hand through his long, sweat-soaked hair. “Time’s ticking, and we don’t know what’s happening in the future. What if she’s already hurt? Or dead?”

The small gathering of boys fell silent once more. Whatever was going on with the omamori, it was clear more than ever to the Toman founders that there were still too many unanswered questions. With every tick of the watch, every passing second that you were stuck in the future and apart from the Toman founders, your safety and fate grew ever more uncertain. They needed to get you back home with them, and fast.

“So what now?”

[writteninlunarlight-years]

My Espresso

A repost of one of my first-ever stories. I guess it got deleted in my purge. Here it is back once again with a better name, lol

The day you died was tragic indeed for all parties involved. Your deranged stalker who killed you now serves life in prison, your fans continue to broadcast your music regularly, crying their eyes out, and your record label is on the hunt for the next ‘Hit’ girl. The only problem was you were a one-of-a-kind, naturally gifted with vocal cords, so sweet and sultry everyone fell for you. Your varying music genres make you an addiction to almost any music fanatic. You were the singer of your time. 

How did you keep that title for so long? Simply put, due to becoming the designated ‘shot of espresso everyone needs to wake up and have a good day,’ your fans were less than kind to any new artists or rising stars. You were an Angle, sweet inside and out, never letting your fame get to your head. However, many scandals and theories have been made that people can never surpass you because you sold your soul or hired people to knock down your competition. None of this was true, though. You were simply a bystander to your fan's actions, not wanting to seem unthankful for all the support that got you there.

Then it happened: your death. One minute, you were walking to the coffee shop by your apartment in the city when a strange man started yelling at you. Of course, the one day you don’t have a bodyguard leave with you, the paparazzi show up. If only that man were a paparazzi; as he got closer, you noticed the lack of camera, the deranged look in his eyes, and the shirt he wore saying, ‘Y/N be my wife.’ All you could think of doing at that moment was trying to make some distance between you and him, seeing as the streets were barren since it was late at night. Why did your best music writing have to happen late at night? Running as fast as you could, the man grew angry, and then bam, next thing you know, you wake up on the streets of a city, not your city; no, this was too red.

As you stood up from your prone position, you glanced at a window only to see not you standing there; well, it was you. It looked like you, but it also didn't look like you. Soft tan skin, chocolate brown hair, Hazel eyes, and a white, tan, and brown outfit adorned your body. You looked like the embodiment of the coffee you would drink at your go-to coffee spot. If only you hadn’t gone there that night. Maybe you would be your normal (E/c), (H/c), (S/c) self. 

Thinking hard about everything that happened, you remember being chased, him yelling obscenities at you, being shoved to the ground, something warm on your face, then a loud bang noise. What was that bang? You only remember the warm, sticky feeling, probably blood from hitting your head on the curb, then you fought a bit, squirming around; the bang must have been a concealed weapon of your assailant's choice. Jeeze, people are crazy…Oh fuck, your dead. You died. Gone. A memory. As this realization came to you, you began walking the streets of this new city.

All the inhabitants of this place looked like those demons you would see on TV or even read about in books. Looking up at the horizon, you see a large building with a flashing sign called the “Hazbin Hotel,” a giant ball to the left that looked like it had wings on it, and above you, a giant pentagram. The pieces finally clicked: you were in Hell, but why you were the sweetest human alive, even fame, didn’t get to you. Maybe Heaven reads tabloids and assumes you did participate in the fate of many of your rivals or that they thought you were a greedy pop star. Sighing softly, you turn your back on the hotel and make your way to the first place that helped you start up in the human world: a cheap manager at a cheap venue. 

~~~Years Later~~~

Years had passed since Mimzy and her crew had taken you in. She was the only demon in Pentagram City that didn’t ask for your soul immediately. Course, as you found out yourself, it’s because her soul, too, was taken from her. Meeting Mimzy was a breath of fresh air; she reminded you of your grandmother and all the pictures you saw of her singing and dancing at nightclubs when she was your age. Mimzy took you under her wing, gave you a palace to sing your sweet new music, and protected you with her clientele. Mimzy did have a habit of getting herself into some deep shit, though. Nothing you couldn’t help with, see as your popularity in Pentagram City grew, so did your powers. Some even compared you to Lilith when she was still around, a voice to conjoin the masses. You were no Lilith; you were simply ‘Y/N,’ so you compromised for a reprise of your old title: ‘ A shot of espresso to keep you going.’ Honestly, who knew demons still partook in human drinks and activities? 

As you began preparing for your next act at Mimzy’s club, said woman entered your dressing room. “Doll, oh, look at you so gorgeous. You're not as gorgeous as me, but you're still amazing. I have big news for ya’ Come and sit with me, deary.” Following Mimzy’s orders, you went to the small sofa in your Dressing Room and sat with her. “What is it, Mimz? Did you get in more trouble with those loan sharks? I told you they are dangerous; this owner of your soul is a real slow ass seeing as I have to save their ‘precious’ soul over and over again.” 

Mimzy just laughed, waving her hand in your face, resituating herself to look you in the eye before speaking again: " Don't worry about that doll. Of course, I would keep that opinion to yourself. He’s back and probably can hear everything around us. Speaking of which, that is why I came here. My dear friend Alastor and the princess of hell are coming to visit our lovely establishment. Make sure to knock their socks off!” 

You nodded softly to Mimzy, laughing at her; she was a firecracker of energy—a troublemaker, yes, but a firecracker of energy. Mimzy quickly excused herself, saying she needed to be ready to meet her guests and introduce the acts for the night. You sighed softly, returning to double-check your makeup and clothes again. 

Looking like a gorgeous espresso martini, as Mimzy calls it, you stood center stage, waiting for the curtain to rise. You hear Mimzy’s tiny heels hitting the stage and some mic feedback. “Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you our star of the stage, your shot of espresso to boost you through hard times, our dame so beautiful and sweet, Y/N.” Cheers erupted in the audience as the curtain rose and a soft amber spotlight landed on you. 

Looking out into the audience, you hesitated for a minute. A handsome man in a red suit sat in the center of the tables. He looked like a deer, not the oddest thing you have seen in the city. The way he was looking at you, though, was intense. You felt the need to cringe and back away like his power exceeded that of an average Sinner. He looked dominating, powerful, and scary even though he had a giant smile plastered on his face. Next to him sat a young-looking girl with big red cheeks. She looked so happy to be present at this event. Her blonde hair was pulled into a bun on her head, with a black crown adoring her. Your boss, Mimzy, was on the other side of the smiling demon, giving you a big thumbs up. 

You took a deep breath when the song started to play on the drums and guitar behind you. You began to sing the song that had never been released to the public before you died. This was an important night for Mimzy, so why not go all out? As you began to sing, the nerves washed off of you, and you started to do your choreography, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of deep red eyes following your every move. As the song ended, you stopped center stage again, a soft, elegant smile gracing your face. “ Thank you so much, everyone. That was called Espresso, and I do hope you all enjoyed it. I will freshen up; please enjoy our band as they play some classic and new hits throughout the ages.” As you bowed and motioned to the band, they began to play. You walked off the stage, quickly stopping at your dressing room before heading to the floor and meeting the others at their table. 

You finally heard this mysterious, powerful demon's voice as you approached the table. “I never took you as the kind to allow other music in your establishment, Mimzy. Weren’t you also one always found of our time's music.” Mimzy just laughed, slapping the demon's arm. Stopping behind the group, you noticed the demon's ears pull back; he knew you were there, good. You cleared your throat for the others and spoke gently, “I’m sorry. Was there a problem with my song, sir? I didn't realize I would be in the presence of a music critic in hell.” 

The tension in the club could be cut with a knife as the demon let out a soft laugh and turned to view you. The young girl beside him was visibly panicking while Mimzy held a laugh back. The demon stood, bowing slightly and extending his hand to you. “Well, dear Y/N, it's nice to meet you. My name is Alastor the Radio Demon, and if you would like to call me whatever it was, you just made music by all means; I must be your critic.” That smile on his face never faltered. It stayed plastered there, if not a little more strained. Gently taking Alastors hand, you curtsied for him and stood straight and tall again, preparing to speak. “Well, Mr. Alastor, you don't seem to have good music taste, seeing as I am a prized singer in hell.” The two of you stared intensely at one another, sparks flying between your eyes. Mimzy cleared her throat, “ Y/N, this is Alastor, as he mentioned, the demon that owns my soul; he also runs the Hazbin Hotel with Miss Charlie Morningstar here.” 

You let go of Alastors hand, breaking eye contact first to greet the young girl. Charlie was the polar opposite of ‘Mr. Music Critic’. She compliments you and tells you how you reminded her of her mother, who has been missing for seven years. Keeping conversation with Charlie, Alastor, and Mimzy began to speak on the side. “Isn’t she interesting, Alastor? She had to have been powerful even in her human form. She may not be your level of scary, but she is something. When I found her within a month, Valentino had come to claim her and ask for her soul; she whooped him physically and mentally; she's quick-witted and cunning.” Alastor nodded knowingly; this could be advantageous to him. 

“Mimzy darling, why have you not sold her off yet? Could make a pretty penny off of her, maybe enough to pay me back for your soul.” Alastor stared at you intently. He couldn’t deny you were attractive in a beauty standard since, and the fact you weren’t afraid of him even if he dominated you in power was intriguing. Mimzy slapped Alastor’s shoulder, “She's like a daughter to me; she's sweet, smart, and a helluva singer. Why would I risk losing business here selling her off to the Vees or any other overlord.”

Tuning into Mimzy’s and Alastor's conversation, you turned to look at the Radio Demon in the eyes once more. “She also can’t get rid of me due to the fact I save her ass more so than you ever have or will.” The authority in your voice even frightened you. The smile on Alastors face tightened more, changing from boredom to interest. “Oh, is that so doll? You save my property for me.” You nod curtly to the demon holding his gaze. The smile slowly morphed into a smirk. Charlie chimes in, “Well, guys, it looks like we have overstayed our welcome; Y/N, you were phenomenal. Please let me know whenever you have your next performance. You have my number!” You nod softly to the cheerful girl before returning to the Radio Demon. 

As you all begin to stand from your seats, Alastor disappears and reappears at your side. “Ms. Y/N, it seems I have a business proposition for you. As Charlie loved your performance so much and I seem to have bad taste in music, how about we strike a deal? You come to the hotel and live there for free; you can sing once a week, and if you can pull in some more sinners looking to be redeemed, I will admit you have the better music. I will also allow you to broadcast your music on my radio.” You stared at the demon timidly, but no one made a deal that didn’t involve losing their soul. You brace yourself for the answer and speak purposefully, “What is it for you if I lose?” Alastor smiled at you menacingly, “I get your soul, of course, and you will do my bidding.” 

You hesitated, contorting your face slightly; losing your soul was not something you wanted to happen; no one did. You looked between Alastor and Mimzy rapidly, a slight panic overcoming you. As you go to speak, Charlie takes your place, “ Alright, Alastor, enough scaring people; we are leaving now. Let's go.” Alastor looked at Charlie before looking back at you. He nods slightly before saying, “I will return in the morning. Have your decision ready.” With that said, the duo left the club.

The night continued like normal; you sang a couple more songs and mulled over the conversation. You won't lie even if you were sweet on earth. Being here in hell made you a lot more prideful than when you were alive. Had someone offered such a stupid bet in the human world, you would politely decline, move on, and let your fans handle them. Alastor, though, something about him and this stupid condescending attitude made your blood boil. As the night closed, you came up with your decision. You went to your dressing room and began to pack a bag for the morning. You were so wrapped in your thoughts hating that stupid Radio Demon that you didn't hear Mimzy walk in. As you finished packing and turned around, Mimzy sat on your couch, a frown on her face. Setting everything down, you walked over to her and sat with her. 

Mimzy looked at you softly, her regular, boisterous exterior fading as her calmer interior emerged. “Y/N, you don’t have to do this. I shouldn’t have done this. I only invited them to show Al how much better I was doing even after his absence. I didn’t expect him to bargain your soul with him.” You gently grabbed Mimzy's hand and looked at her, “Mimz, I got this. I am one of the best singers in hell. I will not lose my soul, and maybe I can bargain him into freeing your soul-” Before you could finish your thought, Mimzy stood up, tears in her eyes, “NO Y/N! You-You don't understand; Alastor is a notorious and powerful demon. He won’t give up mine or your soul. There is always an underlying bargain in his deals.” You looked up at Mimzy. She had never yelled at you like that before, even after ruining her favorite pink dress. Mimzy sat down gently and hugged you close before letting go. “Let me tell you Al’s story, the best I know of it anyway.” 

Even after hearing Mimzy’s story, you are set on proving yourself. Why did you feel the need to? You could only chalk it up to wanting to wipe that stupid smile off the demon's face. You stood outside the entrance of Mimzy’s club, holding her hand. “Y/N, you don't have to do this. Just ignore him.” You shook your head at Mimzy before responding. “I can do this, Mimzy. Trust me. You know where I am if you ever need me.” She nods somberly and hugs you close. The Radio Demon appears out of the shadows as you two part ways. “Hello ladies, Y/N, Mimzy, what a touching display of affection. Are you ready to strike our deal, Y/N?” You nod gently, extending your hand to the demon. With a soft chuckle, he grabbed your hand. Greenlight erupted all around you. Shadows and relic symbols appeared around you as the deal was bound. As the green lights faded, you were sucked into the shadows with Alastor and taken to a Hotel on the other side of Pentagram City. 

The hotel was lovely, nothing too overwhelming like when you were still alive. It was quaint and adorable. You could tell that Charlie put her heart into the place. Walking through the entrance to your left, you notice a bar with a black and grey cat sitting there drinking. Taking the initiative and having the desire to start already pissing the Radio Demon off, you walked away to greet the cat. “Hello, there one espresso martini, please; my name is Y/N, and I’m going to be a new resident and singer for the hotel.” Hearing your words, the cat looked up at you, practically spitting his whiskey onto the bar before collecting himself and cleaning up. In a gruff voice, he responded, “Never thought I would see the day we got more willing redeemers. Thought Sir Pentious would be our only one.” 

You laughed, covering your mouth politely as the cat put your drink before you. As he finished wiping the bar down, Alastor appeared behind you. “Ahhhh, good friend, you have met our new resident artist. Y/N, this is Husk or Husker, as some patrons call him.” You nodded politely to the cat demon, sipping your drink. Alastor sat next to you, staring the cat down. He acted like it was a sin that Husk even talked to you. As you finished your glass, a spider demon walked into the building, groaning about his day at work, sitting on your other side, and ordering a straight martini.

As he rose his head up, looking to great Alastor, he saw you. “WOAH toots, who are ya’ you gorgeous? I didn’t know another pretty thing like me walked these streets.” You smiled sweetly at the spider demon, sticking your hand out to shake his hand. You liked him. He had spunk. “My name is Y/N, and I am the new resident singer of this joint.” Silence filled the room; the spider demon's eyes widened. Looking at him confused, you pulled your hand back and awkwardly sat there. Behind you, Alastors voice rang, “Yes, dear flamboyant friend, that Y/N, the one who took Valentino down a few pegs before he became part of the Vees.” 

The spider's smile grew ten times as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Toots, let's be best friends, deal. My name is Angel Dust. It's a pleasure to meet you.” You laughed softly, connecting that this Angel Dust might be the soul of that awful month. “Deal, I need new friends now that I am out of Mimzys club.” Husker dropped his bottle, causing a shattering noise as he turned to stare down Alastor. “You were Mimzy’s singer; what are you doing here?” Alastor stared down Husker, the ever-growing smile present on his face as power exuded off of him. “Simple Husk, can’t you tell she's in a deal with me.” The room went silent as you looked down at your hands. Based on everyone's reactions, you soon realized you were fucked. 

The tension was thick between the three of you, Angel silent, not daring to interfere in a soul contract, Husker glaring at Alastor, and the Radio Demon eating up everyones distrust. What felt like hours passing was only a few minutes when Charlie and another woman appeared walking down the stairs. “I am telling you, Vaggie, I heard a new voice.” Your eyes connected with Charlie when she let out an excited squeal, barreling down to you. You laughed softly, happy the tension was broken, and hugged the excited girl back. “Oh my goodness, you came here! Are you trying to be redeemed? I am so excited! Vaggie, this is the singer I told you about!” You looked at the other girl and waved at her. When Alastor stood, she nodded back, getting ready to speak to you; however, Alastor had removed Charlie from your embrace. “Sorry, dear Charlie, but Y/N is part of my deal. She will be a new singer for the hotel, as Husk is the bartender, and Niffty the cleaner.” 

As if hearing her name, a tiny, child-looking demon crawled from the depths of somewhere and sat on Alastors shoulder. “Wowie lady, you must sing well for Alastor to vouch for you. You aren’t no bad boy, but you look like you could be tough.” You stood wide-eyed in shock at the minor demon that seemed to spawn into existence. Alastor stood beside you, shooing Niffty off him and placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “Alright, dear Y/N, why don’t I show you to the drawing room where you will perform? You have three days before your big performance.” Everyone looked at the hand placed on your shoulder, confusion laced on their faces. Was Alastor, not a touchy person? All you’ve known of this man was for him to be touching you in some dominating way. You nodded briefly, following the demon to the drawing room. 

You had been practicing hard for the last three days. You met Sir Pentious while in the middle of a practice performance. He was apparently your biggest fan and regularly played your music in his blimp. You signed some autographs for him and told him he was welcome to come and watch whenever he felt like it. Of course, he never did come back while you were practicing. Angel Dust said Alastor frightened the snake demon, who was “getting too close to you and distracting you.” This only confused you: why is Alastor so against any demon getting close to you except for the striking spider demon? Two, why does he care if you get distracted? Shouldn’t he want you to lose so he can keep your soul? These thoughts plagued your mind every day as you practiced. You decided to do a four-song set, your three most popular songs and the new one you debuted at Mimzys place before you left, as a nod back to your old home. 

Throughout your days here, you have noticed so many odd quirks about these residents, but nothing too crazy. I mean, it is hell after all. Angel Dust was a famed porn star for Valentino; Husker used to gamble at the high-end casino in town; Nifty liked cock roaches; Charlie and Vaggie were fighting with Heaven about Sinners being redeemed. Even Sir Pentious had a past saying he tried to kill Alastor, which made you laugh and congratulate the snake demon. The only major oddball was Alastor; every resident said he was acting different, more pompous, possessive, and aggressive. Before you showed up in his life, he was just a condescending asshole who smiled all the time and had a wicked sarcasm streak. 

What made you special? You have been nothing but mean to this man, trying to get a rise out of him and knock him down a few pegs. The main consense from every resident after they learned of your deal is to be careful; he's a master manipulator. The tidbits of information you learned of Alastor were as follows: he hosted a radio show that, up until seven years ago, played screams of his victims; he still very much missed the 1920s; Jazz was his favorite music, makes sense why he hated your pop music, and lastly like any true child of the bayou he enjoyed his coffee, his coffee with three shots of espresso. No wonder the man was wired 24/7. 

Alastor was also not a touchy man; the only person any resident had seen him touch so constantly was you. Why? No one knows the answer; Angel Dust has his theories that he “has the hots for ya toots.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that notion. The pompous, rude, robust, attractive, funny, charismatic Deer Demon didn't have a thing for you. Okay, yes, you have a thing for him, though; what changed in the three days of getting close to him and everyone else? You have no real idea; you only know that the day you realized you had more than aggressive feelings for him was two nights ago.

~~~Flashback~~~

You had been summoned to the famed radio tower by Alastor. He had a treat for you, as he put it. Following Niffty's instructions, you ended up before the radio demon's door. Now you heard the rumors already he killed and broadcasted in his tower. Did your deal mean nothing? Was it a ruse to get rid of someone with a little bit of power? You must have been standing there for too long in your thoughts because before you knew it, Alastor had opened the door for you. “Ah, dear Y/N, come on in. We have a broadcast to get to.” You nodded gently and followed him inside. 

Taking your place beside Alastor, you notice how cluttered his desk is. You stifle a laugh; the thought of the infamous radio demon who looked so clean and polished having anything untidy amused you. You see Alastor pouring his regular coffee as you turn to the small end table with some chairs. “Alastor, I never would have taken you for a coffee drinker. You seem more refined to like English teas or other sophisticated drinks.”

Alastor just looked at you with a small, unstrained smile. As he finished his drink and poured you one, he said, “Nonsense dear Y/N coffee is highly sophisticated; Louisiana was a large export of coffee grounds we lived for this drink. Coffee was the way to go when we needed to work long hours tending to fields or making ends meet at factories.” You nodded gently, amazed that this man remembered his life so well after so long. While you sat and drank your coffee, Alastor got up to prepare the broadcast. While he was busy, you took this time to examine the Deer Demon in more detail. 

He was handsome; his fringe was odd but suited him well, the unforced smile looked attractive, and his suit was perfectly fitted, leaving just enough imagination about what lay underneath. As you caught yourself having this thought, you shook your head, setting your cup down violently. Alastor turned to look at you, his smile still soft but a questioning look in his eyes. You coughed softly into your napkin and stood to meet Alastor at his desk before speaking. “So Al, what is it you need of me.” His reaction to the nickname did not go unnoticed.

Now, the original reason you decided to use the nickname he hated was to get under his skin, but instead of doing that, he smiled at you wider. Gently, he placed a microphone and headphones in your hand. You looked up at him with a curious gaze. “I believe that for people to know you are here at the hotel and will sing, they need a sample. We may have a deal on the line, but I am no cheater.” You nodded, smiling at him; maybe he wasn’t so bad. As the broadcast started, though, the same pompous ass hole came out. Boasting about being missed and how he can't wait to give Sinners of hell an actual broadcast, he introduced you. “Now, my dear patrons, I introduce Y/N. Some of you may know her and even love her, but tonight she will be singing a song for you, a taste into her performance that will be happening here at the Hazbin Hotel in two days.” 

You gripped the microphone and started singing one of your more classic songs. Only the people at Mimzys club that night had heard the new song, and you didn't want to ruin the surprise you had been working on for your concert. As you sang, you couldn’t help but notice the red eyes boring into you. Was Alastor checking you out? No, of course not. This is just to even out the deal. However, how his eyes softened and he hummed gently to your tune made your heart flutter. He sure learned one of your songs for someone who hated your music. 

As you finished your part in his broadcast, Alastor played some old-time Jazz, muting the mics before leading you out the door. You said your goodnights and began to walk away when Alastor grabbed your arm. You turned to look at him, a sweet, innocent look in your eyes; a part of you wanted him to kiss you right there. However, you could see his conflict. After a few seconds of staring at one another, Alastor let go of your arm and cleared his throat, “Good night, Y/N. Be prepared for our deal.” You nodded, and before you could ask him what was wrong, the door was closed and locked in your face.

~~~Present Day~~~

The day you had finally come for your concert. You had spent most of the day resting and preparing for the show. It had been over a week since your last live performance. You took your time getting prepared, wanting everything to be perfect. You double-checked your hair outfit and even dabbed on an old perfume you found while shopping with Angel. Did you buy this specific sent because it was trendy in the 1920s? No, of course not. You weren't trying to impress the famed Radio Demon during your performance tonight. It finally dawned on you as you did your last touches. You either become soulless tonight or beat the Radio Demon. A shiver ran down your back; you were so caught up in falling for the man that you forgot he was ruthless and owned you now. It's not that you minded the owning part; you minded the soulless part. 

A soft knock was heard at your door, and you released a quiet “come in.” As you turned from your vanity to see who had entered, before you stood, Mimzy, you ran to your mentor and hugged her close. “You came, you came. I thought you would be too mad at me to come.” Mimzy slapped your shoulder gently before speaking. “When have I missed one of your shows since you started working for me? Plus, Alastor personally invited me and gave me a front seat. I don’t know if it's to torment me that he's going to take your soul or if mister Deer likes you.” Mimzy began nudging your side. You stifled an almost forced laugh, your cheeks growing warm. “Mimzy, you need to lay off the alcohol. That is an absurd statement. Alastor doesn’t like me.” She gave you a knowing look. “You may think he doesn’t like you, but I can tell you sure like him.” You looked away at the floor.

Mimzy gave you a few more encouraging words before returning to the drawing room. According to Mimzy, there was already a large number of people filling the place. Charlie must be going nuts trying to recruit people. With a final glance in the mirror, you began to walk to your call point. Instead of your average tan and brown ensemble, you wore an elegant blood-red dress for tonight's performance. One that just so happened to be in your closet this morning when you started to get ready. You did your hair up and let some pieces frame your face, your makeup soft and subtle, giving you a sweet, angelic look.

Charlie introduced you to the crowd; as you took center stage and waited for everyone to calm down, you began your set. You looked out to the crowd like you did all those nights ago, and sitting right in front of you were your new friends and him. He didn’t look smug or dominating this time. No, this time, he looked calm and compassionate. Even if you looked hard enough, it almost looked like he was enjoying himself. He wore a suit practically identical to your dress in color. You promoted the hotel between each song as you sang. Your first three songs went perfectly, keeping the crowd entertained to the fullest as you always did. Once your last song died down, the crowd erupted. 

A slow interlude played as you spoke softly: "I wrote this last song a long time ago when I was alive. I have only sung this song once at Mimzy Speakeasy, so if you were one of the lucky few to hear it, please feel free to sing along and enjoy it to the fullest this time.” You smiled softly before landing your eyes on Alastor. You don’t know what possessed you to sing this song, looking directly at him, but you couldn’t help it. You felt compelled, too. As the begging notes to Espresso started playing, a small group of people cheered, including Charlie. 

You began your normal choreography and sang your heart out, never taking your eyes off of Alastor for long, and from what you saw, he never took his eyes off of you for long, either. Singing your heart out as you finished the outro of the song you posed, letting the cheers and lights fade out. Charlie rushed to the stage and informed everyone about food, refreshments, and signing up to join the hotel. You, however, hid behind the curtains, blushing. Why was he looking at you so intently? Why were you suddenly so shy and concerned you sang poorly? You always had confidence in your singing.

Collecting yourself, you quickly refreshed your look in the bathroom before joining the after/recruiting party. As you were going down the hotel hall to get to the main part of the drawing room, an uneasy feeling hit you. An anxious, familiar feeling. You turn your head, and down the hall, you see a man making his way towards you. You turn around and keep walking, ignoring his shouts as you try to beeline for the entryway. You are panting at this point, memories of your death coming back to you, everything feeling too close to that moment. Just as you are about to turn the corner into the doors for the drawing room, the man reaches out for you. You brace for impact; however, nothing happens. You hear sickly screams emanating from before you as a pair of arms gently encase you in a protective embrace. As you open your eyes, you see shadows tearing the man who looked to be a part of the Vees team apart. Alastor covered your eyes before walking you back towards your room.

You didn’t even realize you had begun to cry or shake when you got to your room. The anxiety of reliving that night you died catching up to you. Alastor never let you go, even after you got to the safety of your room. Once you calmed down, Alastor went to the bathroom connected to your room. You sat there holding your face in your hands, probably looking like a mess from your actions. Alastor re-entered the room and brought you a fresh, damp towel. “To wash your face off; you probably don’t want all that on you anymore.” You nodded softly and began to wipe your face. Alastor scoffed, then took the towel from you, crouching down. Alastor gently held your face and began to clean it off. You two never broke eye contact. He was so gentle.

After your face was cleaned, Alastor took the pins out of your hair and went to find some more comfortable clothes for you. You were ushered into the bathroom and began to change when, through the door, Alastor began to speak. “Did he hurt you at all? I tried to get there as fast as I could. Before you came on, Mimzy was telling me about the night you died. I assume the Vees and their minions must have overheard and, in an attempt to weaken your resolve, make you remember that night.” You sniffled lightly, slowly opening the door, and you looked up at Alastor. Where was a man like him when you died? No, where was he when you passed that night? A choked sob left your lips as you hugged him close to you, crying into his shoulder. Alastor was amiss on what to do, but slowly, as you cried, wrapped his arms around you as well. 

As the tears faded, a green glow surrounded you and Alastor again, like when you first made the deal. No one signed up for Charlie's hotel, whether because the demon was mutilated one door over or because you didn’t come to socialize with the guests. It didn’t matter; Alastor had your soul now. Oddly enough, you weren’t as upset by this as you anticipated; you were happy about this. You felt safe, protected even. 

Alastor bid his farewell to you after you had finally calmed down. Neither one of you speaking about the contract or lost deal. You lay in bed, exhausted from all the crying and anxiety. As you drifted off to sleep, you saw your assailant again. This wasn’t an uncommon dream for you, but this time, it hurt worse due to the raw emotions. However, just as you were about to die again for the millionth time in this dream, a man dressed in red with brown hair and a soft smile protected you and saved you. 

You had been asleep for a little less than 24 hours when you woke next. Your body needed a recharge. You made your way to the kitchen to make some coffee; if you were staying at the hotel to sing, you could start putting together new songs and programs. You made your drink, noticing that Alastor's cup was missing from the cabinet. Taking your hot coffee back upstairs, you passed the hall to your room when you heard a piano playing your song Espresso. 

You made your way to the door and entered quietly to find Alastor playing your song, humming quietly in tune. You knocked gently and said, " Al, if you wanted a concert yourself, I would have given you one.” You smile softly. Alastor, unfazed by your appearance, probably already knowing you were there, hummed in amusement before speaking. “As a thank you, why don’t we perform a duet for me saving you?”  You made your way over to the piano, sitting down next to him and setting your coffee cup next to his on the piano. 

He began to play the start of the song, and you two began to sing together. Softly, you rest your head on his shoulder, allowing yourself to be vulnerable with your feelings for the man next to you. You had never sung this song like this before, and it felt special between you two. Some of you began to believe that this song was made for you and Alastor. Before you died, you knew you would meet your match—someone who met you as an equal yet also an opposite. Alastor finished the last few notes of the song. Comfortable silence surrounds you. 

Alastor smiled more naturally, “You know, Y/N, I do like your music. It did catch me off guard the first time I heard it, but your music has a lot of truths in it.” You look up at him from his shoulder, listening to his words. “From the moment I looked at you, I couldn’t get enough of you; when I met you, and you challenged me almost instantly, I knew I had to have you. You keep me awake at night thinking about everything that has happened between us in the last few weeks.” You smile softly, thinking back to the lyrics of your song. You lean up gently and place a kiss on Alastors cheek. He laughs softly when he turns to look at you thoroughly. “I’m sorry, doll, but you may have misunderstood me. I like you a lot; I feel that deserves more than a mere peck on the cheek.” You laugh wholeheartedly, this time without covering it up, before placing a soft, chaste kiss on Alastors lips. You pulled back, both of you smiling. “Now that’s an espresso I would happily take any time.” You laugh at his antics before placing your hands on the piano, now playing an old song you remembered from when you were a kid. 

All was well. Who would challenge the infamous Radio Demon, especially now that he had the notorious addictive ‘Espresso’ singer as his girlfriend? With your powers combined, he could overcome the deal he made, but that is a story for another time.