#no matter how funny of a response i come up with i am NOT replying at all

[juniperpyre]

bro the jeg/ulus stans on twt are trying to eat me up for tweeting an idea about a jily hunger games au as if cr*mson r*vers invented hunger games aus

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

Shameless

Warning ⚠️; internalized homophobia, Homelander is his own warning, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, fluff. 🔞

Pairing; Bottom!Homelander/Top!Male!Reader

Summary; John and you are two opposites. He is a comedian and a liar, you are bluntly honest and direct. He cares about his image, you don't. He is ashamed of your relationship while you are shameless.

~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat on the sofa sipping at your drink, eyes staring at John with amusement. Still in his costume, your lover walked in circle while biting his nail. He looked ridiculous in your eyes. All those fake muscles and the cape were too much. He looked always better naked, natural, and not so fake.

- “You are going to get yourself dizzy, my love. Just get out of those ridiculous clothes and come sit with me.” You said, waving your hand to show his costume. “We have so little time together, I would prefer having you by my side than whatever you are doing right now.”

John stared at you, eyes glowing red and you just laughed at him. You weren't scared, never was, because John couldn't kill you. No one could. It was part of your power, your curse, but in a moment like this, it was a blessing. Watching your lover get worked up for nothing was funny.

- “How can you laugh in such a situation?” John asked, voice hissing at you as you rolled your eyes. “Its a disaster! I cannot be seen like… like…”

- “Like the man you truly are?” You finished his sentence, sighing. “John, no one cares about that picture. Everyone will call it fake and those who don't, well who cares? Just discredit them and forget about it.”

John said nothing and looked away, his eyes back to normal. You shook your head as he kept walking around the room, trying to find a solution. You didn't understand him. Why come to you when you couldn't help when you were the source of this situation? Well, you weren't fully responsible. It wasn't you who had decided to kiss on a rooftop where anyone could see, that had been John.

And now there was a picture of you two kissing, your hands squeezing Homelander’s ass, circulating around the internet. It was, for you, hilarious. For John? The end of the world was happening.

- “Can't you stop being overly dramatic for five minutes?” You asked, harsher than you wanted.

You gasped in surprise as the back of your head hit the floor, hard, making you see stars. John had pined you down after knocking over the sofa and sat on you. You shivered, licking your lips as you plunged your gaze into his glowing one.

- “And can't you take it seriously for once? Don't you realize how serious the situation is for me? I am supposed to be perfect with no weaknesses and I can not be seen like that with another man.” John spat, his hand grabbing your chin painfully tight.

- “But you are not perfect John and you'll never be!” You replied with a sneer.

It was the wrong answer because next thing you knew John punched you and pain exploded in your jaw. Blood splashed all over your lover and you as your jaw hit the wall and fell onto the ground. From anger, John expression turned to horror as he realized what he had done. From amused, you became enraged.

You didn't gave John any chance and kicked him in the chest, sending the sup flying against the ceiling. You watched your lover fall loudly on the ground as you got up, spilling blood all over the place. You closed your eyes, pain swallowing you up as nerves, bones and everything else slowly regrew. Tears slowly rolled down your cheeks as you felt like your lower jaw was burning in the fiery pits of Hell.

You heard John begging, swearing he didn't mean to hurt you like that and you didn't care. What mattered was how he still did it.

You opened your eyes staring angrily at the hero still lying on the ground. You walked up to him and saw John tensing and closing on himself before you grabbed the man by the collar. Without a word, you back-slapped like he was a bitch, splitting open his lip before grabbing his jaw like he did to you. You leaned down until your nose brushed his.

- “Listen here you pathetic excuse of a man; you are nothing. You are not a hero, you are not perfect and you are not an inspiration. The only thing you are is a childish man who can't take no for an answer and can't live without the approval of the world.” Your words hit home as you saw tears building up in John’s eyes and you sneered again. “You are pathetic. Truly pathetic. The world loves the fake image of you and would turn on you at the first opportunity. Their love is conditional unlike mine and yet you chose those worms over me. I who had always been here for you no matter what. I who helped you bond with your bastard son and helped you when no one wanted to. I bloodied my hands for you! And after everything that how you thank me?”

Venom filled your words as you stared at your lover. John was silently crying and looked away, not daring to look at you. You felt betrayed, and humiliated. You did so much for that man child and he turned against you so easily. You didn't want to see him anymore, wanted him gone from your sight.

- “Think about it John. Who will take care of you when you are old and your body is betraying you? Who will be there for you when the world cheer for a younger and more attractive hero? Them? Your so-called fans? No. They won't, but I would have.” You said, turning your back to him as you walked away. “Now get out.”

- “I’m sorry! I didn't…” John tried but stopped as you turned your head, eyes filled with anger.

- “GET OUT.” You snarled.

And just like that John was gone. A soft breeze caressed your face after he flew away. Sighing, you cleaned the room and threw away your jaw. The pain still lingered and you massaged your chin before sighing. You hated fighting with John like that, but recently it was every other day. The more time passed the more he became unhinged and impulsive. You could barely recognize the man who sought love and attention, the man who melted under your hands at night seemed gone.

It was late that night when John came back. He didn't call, didn't text. He just showed up. You were in bed reading a book in the light of a candle when you heard your front door opening. Only John had a spare so you knew it was him.

He didn't come up directly and you ignored him. You were still angry at his stunt and, frankly, didn't wish to see him. Not right now, not tomorrow. But there he was, walking into your home as if it was his.

After a few minutes, you heard John walking up the stairs and coming toward your room. You didn't look up when he entered nor when he called your name with a timid and soft voice. Instead you clenched your book harder.

- “I thought I told you to get the fuck out of my house, John. What are you doing here?” You asked, voice cold as you turned the page of your book.

Your lover didn't answer. Instead, John approached the bed and put down a mix of things; a gift basket filled with your favorite snacks and drinks and another full of books. Sighing, you closed your book and turned your attention on John.

There he stood in civilian clothes and his head low. His eyes were still red and puffy from crying. Had you not been angry at him you would have hugged John. But you were still pissed off.

- “I am so sorry for what I did and said.” John whispered, looking away as he sat on the edge of the mattress. “I have no excuses and you are right. You've always been there for me and you didn't deserve any of this, but I did.”

You could see tears in his eyes and the sight was almost pitiful. Of course, John couldn't live up with what he did and would regret his actions. You didn't. The brat had deserved your words and hands.

- “I don't want… I can not lose you…” John whispered so low that you barely heard it.

You sighed and leaned back against your pillows, crossing your arms and studying him. John was clearly remorseful and you knew he had his lesson, for now at least. Shaking your head you gently tapped the mattress next to you and John didn't wait to lay down. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face against your chest. You brushed his blond hair with your fingers, heart almost getting softer as you saw how happy he was now.

- “You are losing me, John. I don't know what the fuck is going on with you, but stop it. I don't have the patience to deal with your childish tantrum just because a picture of us leaked on the internet. We are celebrities, it's going to keep happening.” You said and your lover held you tighter. “Hush now. I forgive you this time, but I might not give you another chance.”

John nodded and didn't let go. You kept brushing his hair and let your fingers down his neck. He was cold, colder than normal and you could feel his heartbeat racing. He was scared and terrified which pleased you. Maybe he wouldn't go against you anymore, maybe he would stop thinking he could do as he wished.

After all, he was your pet, yours to use as you wished and you couldn't have a bad dog by your side. As much as you loved John, you didn't want him if he was to lose his mind and become a liability. But at that moment he looked so small and delicate in your arms, almost broken and you couldn't resist him.

You smiled as you felt his body relax against you as he slowly fell asleep. Maybe you could use his fear and remorse against him. Maybe you could force him to come clean about your relationship. Not now, the fight was still too fresh but soon enough he might give in. And once you were out to the world, John would truly be yours entirely.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Do It For Him | Keep Quiet For Me | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: You're on a family vacation but Jungkook wants you no matter the risk... Pairing: Daughter in law reader x Father in Law Jungkook (Yändere) Word Count: 2.3k~ Warnings: Explicit language, an injury and blood, smuttttt and infidelity (but it's difh so duh lmao) and barely edited but yeah that's normal for me lmao a/n: This is response to someone asking for a drabble of in regards to my answer on this ask thank you to the anon/s that were interested in this and sorry it took so long to get out 😭 I was very very burnt out on this story so I hope this'll make up for it Series Masterlist

"Do you need anything? I'm gonna run inside and go to the bathroom" I whisper to my husband while we're lounging outside with the rest of the family. "No that's okay, you go ahead" he says and I respond with a quick okay and give him a quick kiss before standing up. 

"Actually" he say, grabbing my hand to stop me from leaving just yet. I hum in acknowledgment, waiting to hear his request. "Do you think you could grab me another beer? Take your time in there though" he says giving me a sluggish smile, telling me he's fully relaxed and that I should probably follow up that beer with some water. "Sure honey" I say, grabbing both of our empty Kloud bottles and heading inside. 

Walking into the house I first go into the kitchen to throw away the bottles but on my way I grab my phone out of my pocket to check a notification that came in but before I'm even able to turn it on I feel one of the bottle slip from my grasp and fall on the floor, smashing and scattering the glass all over the floor. 

"Perfect" I groan under my breath and start crouching down to pick it all up. "Need a hand?" Jungkook asks raising his eyebrows after seeing the mess I've made. "No I'm fine I can take care of this on my own" I grumble and continue to pick up the shards while Jungkook just stands there staring at me. 

"What do you want Jungkook?" I ask after a few moments pass by and realize he's been starting at my chest this whole time. "Don't you think that bathing suit is a little...revealing?" he asks as he continues to stare, not even bothering to look me in the eye. 

"Last time I checked I didn't ask for your opinion and I'm still not asking for it now. Can you please just go back outside?" I ask and go to pick up another shard but when Jungkook tries to say something else I grab it too quickly and slice my hand.

"Shit" I say and stand up and grab a towel to prevent it from bleeding while I walk over to the bathroom to wash it. "There should be a first aid kit in there" Jungkook calls after me as he trails behind. "I know, why do you think I'm going to wash it in the bathroom instead of the kitchen?" I ask, pointing out how stupid it would be to tell me something I already am aware of. I've got accident prone kids so you would think it was important for me to find that right away. 

"Right" he mumbles to himself, trying to stem off the irritation in his voice. "What do you really want Jungkook?" I ask, since there's clearly something else he wants. 

"What I really wanna do is fuck that pretty attitude out of you but let's worry about fixing that hand up first Angel" he says, coming up behind me and placing a strong grasp on my hips as I wash the blood off. 

"Real funny Jeon now can you just leave? I can take care of this on my own" I say, clumsily trying to open the box but struggling to the point that Jungkook just opens it for me. "I said I could do it myself" I say, glaring at him even though I know I needed the help. "Sure you could" he responds with a taunting smile. 

Rolling my eyes at him I sift through the products and find an antiseptic and a bandaid big enough for the area. I go to rip the package open with my teeth but he takes it out of my hand before I'm able to. "I said I didn't want your help" I reply but hold out my hand anyways. "I know but you need it if we want to get this done before you bleed out" he says, focusing on the task at hand. 

"Don't be so dramatic I-" "Shh" "Did you ju-" "Shh" he shushes me again and I let out a big sigh but ultimately let him take care of it. 

"There, all better" he says, throwing away everything and I moved out of the way so he could use the sink to wash up. "Thank you" I mumble and he pauses for a second, "Thank you? Where's that smart mouth from earlier" he asks while drying his hands. "I was in pain and irritated alright just forget it" I say and turn to walk out. "That's the last time I'm saying thank you to you" I mumble and before I'm able to walk out of the bathroom he pull me back in. 

"What was that Angel? I didn't quiet catch that?" he asks, me now pressed up against the sink facing the mirror again with him pressing up against me. "I said that's the last time I'm saying thank you to you" I say glaring up at him in the mirror before focusing on trying to push him off. 

"Get off of me" I say, pushing my hips back against his and it then that I can feel how hard he's gotten. "That's not fair love. I took care of you and I think it's only fair if you help take care of me" he taunts rubbing his dick against my ass. "Jungkook stop everyone is outside" I plea, trying to knock some sense into him.

"Jungkook stop we can't do this" I say, slapping his hands away when they toy with the tie on my hip. "Why not angel? As long as you stay quiet no one will know" he says, pulling on the tie and sliding them down my legs, now only wearing my bikini top and a small cover I had over it which he slides down my shoulders next. 

"Let's take care of that attitude huh? Looks like someone forgot who they were talking to" he says, sliding his right hand down my stomach and his left up to hold my throat. "Jungkook please sto-" is all I manage to get out before he traces a finger through my folds, making me shudder at the contact. 

"Looks like someone was just begging to get fucked weren't they? Look" he say, showing me his finger, already soaked in my arousal. I try to look to turn my head away, hating that my body always responds to him but he grabs my jaw and turns me back to face the mirror. 

"Nuh uh, you're gonna be a good girl and watch. Watch me fuck that attitude right out of you just like I wanted to" he says, sliding his hand down from my jaw to my neck, applying just enough pressure to remind me of the control he has over me. 

"Let's see if you can cum on my fingers first huh? Think you could do that?" he asks and I don't answer, not wanting to play into his games. "Silent treatment huh? Cute" he says and applies more pressure before putting two fingers inside without warning. I choke back a moan, shocked up the stretch and the slight pain it brings. 

"If you want me to be gentle with you then you need to talk to me" he says, applying more pressure on my throat as if mocking me. Daring me to say something smart but I don't. "Let's try this again. You think you can cum on my fingers princess?" he asks and I shake my head slightly, wanting him to just fuck me and get this over with. 

"Really? Because I think you can. Let's test that theory" he says before he starts pushing his fingers in and out, dragging them along my walls while rubbing his thumb on my clit, all while holding my head up and making me watch as my face starts to contort in pleasure. "There you go princess, focus on how good it feels" he says, pumping his fingers in a bit faster and adding a third once I've stretched out enough. 

"You sure you can't cum? Because from the way you're body is talking to me looks like you're almost there" he taunts, taking note of how hard I'm squeezing his fingers and how my legs have already started shaking. I let out a choked back moan in response and I just hear a dry chuckle from behind, clearly enjoying my struggle in trying to keep quiet and he doesn't let up at all. 

"You're being stubborn aren't you? Trying to prove that I have to work harder to make you cum?" he growls in my ear as I continue to hold myself back, defying his claims and just waiting for him to fuck me and get it over with. 

"Fine since you want this cock so much then why don't you beg for it?" he says while taking out his cock and dragging them up and down my folds, making me purr at the sensation. 'Shit no I cannot give him the satisfaction of knowing that I'm enjoying this fuck!' 

"What was that?" he taunts, giving me a smug smile through the mirror which makes me look away again. He grabs my jaw roughly and brings my face back over again. "What was that princess? You like that?" he says doing it again, making my knees want to give out under me but he steadies me on my feet. 

"Something as simple as this is making you feel like that? Angel was sensitive now wasn't she? Just begging to get fucked and didn't know how to ask for it" he says and presses on my back making my cheek press up against the glass, my breath fogging up the mirror as he lines himself up, giving up on making me beg since we need to finish up fast before anyone notices. 

He pushes in without any notice leaving me biting down on my lip to muffle to sound but it only does so much. He inches inside of me giving me the smallest amount of time to adjust before he's bottomed out. 

"Look at you, such a dirty little slut letting me fuck you in here. Take you from behind while you watch us in the mirror. Is that something that turns you on Angel?" and at that my body betrays me and squeezes his cock, giving him the answer that he already knew would be true. "Fuck, you're incredible" he says, raking his eye up my form before meeting them in the mirror. 

"Keep quiet for me yeah? Wouldn't want anyone to know that you're taking my cock so well while your husband is outside now would we?" he says, trailing his hand up my back and finally untying the last two ties that are keeping my top on. "Or don't. I would love for them to hear what you sound like while you scream my name and beg for more but I don't think you want that now do you Princess?" he asks while placing a kiss on my neck. 

"N-no" I stutter out, knowing better than to not respond this time. He reaches his arm around and pulls me back up with his hand on my throat and makes me make eye contact with him through the mirror. "Then be good and cum on this cock. Can you do that?" he questions and I nod, not trusting my voice this time with the way he's rubbing up against my walls at this angle. 

He lets go of my throat and leaves me reaching out my arms to brace myself, my knuckle white from how hard I'm holding on and seconds later he pulls out, leaving just the tip inside before slamming into me, making me go on my tip toes from the force. He drills into me unapologetically while watching my face contort in pleasure through the mirror. 

I can't hold back and I end up letting out barely audible whimpers while he continues to abuse my aching cunt, already close to release. "Fuck Angel loosen up I can barely move" he grunts while I grip his dick so well, seconds from tipping over. "Cum" he growls in my ear and that's the last push I need to lose myself in the feeling, letting out a choked back sob and squirting all over him. 

"Shit" he grunts and picks up the pace of his thrusts, fucking me through my high and tipping himself over to reach his a minute later and he grabs onto my throat again, his other hand on my hip thrusting a few more times until he's spent and both of our releases are dripping out of me. 

"Fuck Princess I didn't know you could squirt" he says while roaming his hands up and down my body, touching me as much as he can before I push him off seconds later when that post nut clarity hits.

"Get out" I choke out, trying to calm myself down and bring my breathing back down to normal. "See you soon love" he says, placing a kiss on my shoulder before walking out. Not bothering to look around to see if anyone might see him leaving.  

I take a deep breath and turn on the shower, getting in and not bothering to wait for the water to heat up, letting myself deal with the chill it brings to my warm skin.

Standing with my face under the stream I try to drown out all the memories of what just happened and how I just let him do that to me. Why do I always just let him get his way? 

I can't keep doing this. I have to tell someone because this secret is suffocating me. 

If I keep it in much longer I don't know what'll become of the person I once was. 

I need to stop this, everything just needs to stop.   

Read the series from the beginning

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[viccyfics]

Slick is CB's daughter short one-shot

(Trans CB) below the cut

When Greaseball had heard the news of CB arriving back at the Union Pacific Yard, he was expecting maybe a new scar, a new dent, or even a new sticker, what he wasn't expecting though was CB carrying a child in his arms, an oil tanker to be specific…A newborn oil tanker.

They were sitting in Dinah and Greaseball's shed, with Junior skating about and bumping into the occasional doorframe but Greaseball didn't pay her any mind, he was the same when he was her age.

"Is she yours?" Dinah asked, her hands outreached with a large smile on her face.

"She's mine," CB replied handing his daughter over to Dinah, if Greaseball thought she was small in CB's arms, she looked even smaller in Dinah's.

"What about the da-" Greaseball went to ask but CB cut him off,

"She's mine, that's all that matters."

"But-"

"Greaseball. She's mine, she won't know her dad and I don't want her to, okay?" CB snapped

Greaseball held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, I hear you." He leaned against the back of the couch, watching as Dinah gently rocked the little tanker in her arms.

Junior paused her lap around the room to peer up at the baby in her mom's arms with wide eyes. "She's tiny," she observed, tilting her head. "What's her name?"

CB hesitated for a moment "Slick,"

The toddler's nose crinkled up, "That's a funny name,"

"So is Greaseball Junior," CB chuckled making Dinah laugh.

"I told him it was ridiculous," Dinah whispered so her daughter wouldn't hear as she went back to speeding around,

"Well you can name the next one," Greaseball rolled his eyes,

"We're not having another one," Dinah spoke looking over at her daughter who barely avoided going into a wall at full speed, "One is enough…although," her eyes went down to Slick, "I'm always happy to babysit,"

CB raised an eyebrow "Sure? You have a lot on your hands,"

Dinah gave him a soft smile adjusting her hold on Slick, who let out a tiny murmur in response. "I'm sure, if you ever need someone to watch her, you know where to find us, it's not fair on you to do this alone."

Greaseball crossed his arms, nodding. "Yeah, Ceebs. You show up outta nowhere with a kid, after we've heard nothing from you in nearly three years, and no offence but you're not exactly the most paternal person…or maternal for that matter," he ignored the glare from Dinah and CB.

CB scoffed, shifting in his seat, wincing a little as he moved making him quickly change the position "Yeah, well I didn't exactly plan on this happening,"

"Have you seen a repair truck?" Dinah asked, noticing how he flinched, "Or any kind of mechanic?"

"No.." CB admitted looking down at his lap, "But I'm fine, and so is Slick,"

"Greaseball, can you take Junior out for a bit?" Dinah asked turning to her husband, "Me and CB need to talk for a bit," Greaseball went to object but stopped himself knowing it was better to just listen to her than to annoy her and risk sleeping on the couch...or in another shed.

"right! Come on Junior let's go," he yelled getting the small Engine's attention, "I'll race you out," immediately the girl was sprinting towards the door, Greaseball letting her go ahead as they shot out the shed.

Dinah waited until the sound of their wheels faded before turning back to CB, "You're my best friend, you know I'll do anything for you," He gave her a small nod in return, "And I've kept all your secrets?" He nodded again, "So why am I only finding out you've got a baby now? You have a radio for a reason, you could call me"

"I don't know," CB frowned, "I wanted to come back but I couldn't…but I'm here now."

"You're going to stay though right? We want you back, everyone wants you back." Dinah pleaded, "You can go back to work and we-"

CB stopped her, "I'm only staying for Slick, she deserves to grow up in one yard, not moving around every few months, it's not fair."

"Good," Dinah smiled "I missed you,"

"I missed you too."

[itsharleystuff]

↳ 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄

Gif not mine!

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Joel Miller x afab!fem reader

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Ellie finds an old chessboard somewhere in Jackson and asks you to teach her how to play. Joel joins and isn’t too happy about losing three times against you.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), age gap (reader is in her mid twenties, Joel is early fifties), sex, p in v, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, use of whore (like once), pet names (darling, sweetheart, angel), multiple orgasms, they do it on the table, cum eating, bit of angst, insecure Joel, canon divergency, probably ooc Joel and Ellie, mentions of death and loss, alcohol consumption, confessing feelings. Let me know if I missed something!

a/n: this one’s a bit rushed but I wanted to post it before my birthday so I apologize if it isn’t great. Anyways, I’m writing a second Javi fic, so if you liked 𝐌Í𝐀 I’m certain you’re going to love the next one:)

no use of y/n

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

"You're cheating." Ellie rambles, standing up to get a better view of the board and analyze it from different angles. You can't help but giggle at her childish attitude, cause it truly brought a certain joy to the dynamic. "Hey! It's not funny."

"How could I cheat? You were watching my game the whole time." You defend you case, raising your hands in a sign of peace but gaining a glare from the girl.

"I don't know, you're the one who's teaching me." In that moment, you hear the crack of the front door opening, but none of you bother to stand and greet the main resident of the house, too busy in your own matters.

"Look, I'm playing fair. I am simply older and more experienced than you." Ellie grimaces and sits back on the chair, both arms crossed over her chest. "But try not to feel too bad. I've always been really good at chess."

Joel enters the dining room and walks right past you, going straight to the kitchen. You guess he's either going for a beer or to pour some whiskey into his favorite glass. Always the same routine every weekend: he would come home late with absolutely no explanations as to where he was, drink something strong and spend some time with both of you before heading to bed.

"You must be a really good strategist, then." She replies, amused. "I’ve heard this game is all about that. Strategies."

When you're about to respond, the man's heavy footsteps get closer as he comes to the room once again and leans back on the wall opposite to you, a glass of whiskey on his hand. His grayish hair is messy and his eyes seem to shine brighter under the warm light hanging over your heads when he looks at you intently. Often, he would appear exhausted after being off all day, but tonight it was different. Something about him was, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it.

Ellie must've sensed a shift in the air, since she changed her approach in a second. "Joel, you're pretty ancient. I bet you know how to play."

You hold back your laughter at her mocking comment, reaching the board to rearrange the pieces. He cocked an eyebrow in her direction, straightening his posture nonchalantly.

"I'm more of a poker man," he retorts with a distant air, diverting his gaze to Ellie.

"Poker?" You frown as he comes your way, but doesn't take a sit just yet. "I didn't take you for a gambler, Miller."

He sets the glass down on the table, leaning over the chair next to you with a smirk. "M'not. There’s many ways of playing other than betting your money, f’you know what I mean.”

Your eyes widen at his response, taken aback. So he meant like… The one were you end up naked. “Now, I would’ve expected that from Tommy, but you? That’s a surprise.”

He shrugs, faded smile still on his lips.

You remembered what Ellie once told you, ‘he does that whenever you’re around,’ she had said in a meditative tone, ‘smile, I mean. It’s kind of creepy cause… y’know, he never does.’ Perhaps that’s why she acted differently every time you three were together.

“Yeah, whatever.” The girl grumbles. “Can you play chess or not? I need someone to take revenge for me.”

Joel takes a seat beside you, slowly, glancing over the board before sipping from his drink again. He looks back at Ellie, whose eyes were sparkling with excitement. The man sighs in defeat, well aware that he just couldn’t say no to her. A dad reflex, maybe, but it worked out in her favor and she’d take advantage of it as much as she could.

“Fine. I call black.” You nod in agreement and the younger one leans on her elbows for a better view. “Either way, I know you like making the first moves. Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

Your first reaction was almost choking on your own saliva. Honestly, how dare he say something like that in front of Ellie? Did he suddenly forget that she was fourteen and terribly clever? Had he lost his mind? Also, he never called you by anything other than your name whenever she was around, so this whole situation felt like a personal attack.

“You okay over there?” Ellie asked, slightly concerned at your incessant coughing.

“Yeah…” you give him a dirty look and press a hand to your chest, making the first move with a white pawn. “Could you bring me some water? I think my soul might’ve left my body.”

“Sure.” She quickly answers, standing up. Joel doesn’t say anything else, his mind focused only on the game now.

It had all happened last weekend.

Thinking in retrospective, your relationship with him had always been ambiguous. You couldn’t quite recall when he actually started talking to you and not just ‘bear with your presence’, nor when his invitations to come over to his place started coming from him and not Ellie.

At first, it was simply you and her. Bonding was easy, despite her sharp character. She looked up to you, for whatever reason that might be, and that smoothed things. Joel was a completely different story. He acted like you didn’t exist, as if you were merely another bug roaming his house. Though when he saw how good your friendship with Ellie was, his brusque behavior started to fade, or at least settle down somehow.

Sooner than later you started coming over to make dinner, or teach the teenager how to bake some of the recipes your grandmother had thought you -more like you’d do everything while she chatted to keep you entertained-. But truth be told, it became more of an excuse to see him.

Honestly, you were doomed since the very beginning. There was undeniably no way you would’ve been able to escape Joel Miller’s silent charm. His presence became a constant need to you, and you’d often find yourself relating certain things to him. Smoke, denim, pills, booze, watches and boots, to mention a few. To you, he was all gray and blue, merging in the best way possible.

You didn’t expect him to thank you for taking care of them. Them. Not just Ellie, him too. Or that he’d suddenly show up to places you would frequent, which made you wonder, could he possibly feel the same way? Sure, it could’ve been a simple coincidence… If it weren’t for the stolen looks you’d often share. Though his face rarely reflected any interest in you, his piercing gaze would frequently burn your skin every time you were hanging out with other men.

Two weeks ago, Maria had been held back from patrol due to her pregnancy, and you were called to fill up her place. The thing is, you were supposed to leave with Tommy, but somehow ended up with his older brother, riding at dawn in utter silence and searching for a prey to hunt. It wasn’t particularly uncomfortable, yet it allowed you to watch him more attentively: his broad shoulders and sturdy back, the dark graying hair that, in some way, made him more attractive. And then your mind, went to some… Darker places.

How would his big, manly hands feel cupping your breasts? Flashy images of his rough, calloused fingers pinching your nipples meandered your mind. His face buried between your legs, his mustache tickling your…

“You ‘kay there, sweetheart?” He had asked, abruptly taking you out of your freakish daydreaming. “You seem distracted.”

Well, that was a way of putting it. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just…” you babbled, “I hate the rifle.” Joel glanced back at you with a stiff, confused expression. “If I shoot this thing, I’ll feel the kickback on my shoulders and back for at least two weeks from now.”

The horses were stagnant, waiting by the trees while you took a stroll nearby, keeping an eye for any sort of animal that would serve for dinner.

“Show me.” He said, internally amused by your inquiring expression. “Show me how you hold it.”

“Oh…” You compeled, in spite of the anxiety his stern eyes brought upon you.

“You’re doin’ it wrong.” He grunted, coming to approach you, still holding the position.

You scowled, raising a brow to him but not daring to move a muscle. “Maybe you’re just making me nervous, did you think about that?”

Joel plants himself behind you, staying so close that you could feel the warmth of his body through the many layers of clothing. Your heartbeat races when his hand rearranges the rifle on your elbow, unintentionally wrapping his arms around you.

“You need to hold it like this.” His tone was low but still firm. “Keep it up.” You feel his chest pressed to your back and his face near yours, making it hard to breathe.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, cause if your head turns even a little, you fear the distance between you might as well disappear. His hand holds your wrist steady, the other one going from your elbow to your waist in a tight grip that makes you gasp.

“Do I make you nervous?” He questioned, without letting you go. Paying no mind to the way your nerves buzzed and ears rang at the proximity, you slowly nodded. “Are you afraid of me?”

His doubt made your heart jump and knit your brows together. “No. I trust you.” Joel’s breath hit your temple and it took all the self control in your body not to get rid of the distance.

“You shouldn’t.” Both his hands are on your waist in a firm grasp. He definitely noticed your flushed cheeks, the ragged breathing and constant desire to look at him. Like a damn teenager in love. You gulp, trying to regain composure.

“And why is that?” He didn’t answer, and every second that passed and his hands were still on you only made it worse. You needed to get closer or your lungs would crush under the weight of expectation. “Joel?”

You finally gave in, raising your head to face him. He was already looking down at you, eyes smitten and lost. A reflection of him you’d never seen before. Your gaze goes to his lips and inevitably lick your own before going up to his deep, brown eyes again.

Fucking hell, the man was mesmerizing.

Before you even knew what you were doing, you’re leaning forward, completely forgetting about the rifle and the whole world around you. Your noses touch and your lips merely brush against each other’s. Instinctively, you close your eyes in hopes that he’d go for it.

But he didn’t.

Instead, his hand comes to arrange your posture again, murmuring a lazy ‘easy’ in your ear, that shared moment vanishing in thin air.

“When shooting a weapon this big, you gotta bring your strength from your torso and legs.” And then he acted like nothing happened; nevertheless, he was perfectly aware of the effect he had on you. “That way it won’t hurt after.”

Well shit. Now you had screwed up.

This man was like a father to Ellie and you were not only infatuated with him, but also add to the list that you had purposely tried to kiss him. You were embarrassed, to say the least. Specially since it appeared that whatever feelings you had were one-sided.

Or so you thought, up until last Saturday.

You hadn’t talked with him about it. In fact, you hadn’t even been alone with him ever since. It was probably for the best, though, that way you wouldn’t have to humiliate yourself in front of him any further. Every time you happened to cross paths, he seemed aloof, more indifferent than usual.

It was pretty late, probably past midnight and Joel hadn’t yet arrived. You had spent all day with Ellie and now you were just waiting for his return, but she was growing tired and you didn’t think it was fair for her to stay up for too long.

“Go to bed, okay? I’ll wait for him.” You told her with a smile.

“Nah, don’t worry. I’m not even…” whatever she was going to say got cut off by her yawn.

“Right. You were saying?” She rolled her eyes and snorted at your victorious air.

“Fine. But promise you won’t stay for too long. I’d hate to know you didn’t get any sleep because of me.” You agreed and said everything would be fine, that she had nothing to worry about.

So you waited there on his living room, reading old crappy magazines about celebrity gossip while facing the crackling fire that kept the house warm. It was easy to lose track of time this way, therefore, when the door opened at last, you had no idea how long you had been waiting around. You rushed to his encounter, but you were totally unprepared for what happened next.

“Jesus Christ, Joel. Are you- shit…” the man standing ahead was someone you knew, but could barely recognize. The side of his face was bleeding, a cut going from his temple to the cheekbone and there were bruises scattered around it. He was sweating and you could swear he was about to faint.

You closed the door behind him, tugging his shoulder to drag him inside, all the way to the kitchen. Despite his rumbles of protest, Joel allowed you to do it, putting up no resistance. His mind was screaming at him to tell you that you should leave and that he didn’t need any help. But he was too fucking exhausted and you were being so kind and warm… He just couldn’t bring himself to do it, ignoring the part of his brain that kept telling him ‘you’ll regret this later’. For once in a very long time, he was being irrational, letting another part of him take control; or rather lose it completely.

You sat him down on a chair and took a clean towel, wetting it with cold water to treat the wound. In addition, you also took the bottle of whiskey that he kept locked away where Ellie wouldn’t find it, pouring him a glass. He gulps it down straight away.

Joel observes your every move closely. Your steady hands going to his chin and raising his face to the light, the way your features drown in concern and your dazzling eyes examine the injury. His skin burnt there where you touched him and it was becoming hard for him to keep his mind focused, growing dizzier with pain and intoxicated by your perfume. He really shouldn’t be feeling this way, and it burdens him to know it. Your lovely, young self shouldn’t be an object of his desire; and the fact that you were what he wanted the most was killing him achingly slow.

Because, even if you did want him back, what good could it possibly come from the whole thing? He’d just hold you back. There were plenty of other men in Jackson that could offer you things he certainly couldn’t. Yeah, that was it. He was way too corrupted to be deserving of someone like you.

“Does it hurt too much?” You muttered while getting rid of the blood, careful not to be too harsh.

“S’okay, angel.” The name-calling wasn’t something you usually liked. It sounded condescending coming from other men, but when he did it, your stomach fluttered. “Were you waiting for me?”

You nod vaguely, “I was worried.” His eyes bore into yours and your heart skips a beat. “I mean we. We were worried.”

“Right…” He noticed how your fingers brushed the hair out of his face tenderly, his self-control threatening to crumble under your touch with every second that went by. His hand takes your wrist, preventing you from keeping up your work. For a moment, he says nothing, simply staring at you fixedly. “I think you should leave.” He blurts out, letting go of you.

Oh, there they were. Those mixed signs that you always seemed to misinterpret.

You groan in exasperation, leaving the bloody towel beside the bottle of alcohol. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I don’t need your pity.” Joel was being petty and his deliver managed to hurt a little. But you would not give him that much power, at least not without putting up a fight.

“It’s not about that and you know it.” You cross both arms over your chest and sit on the edge of the table, determined to get out of that agog that wouldn’t let you sleep. “Why are you pushing me away?”

He rubs a hand over his face, taking his time to retort and avoiding your eyes. “I can’t give you what you want.”

You laugh sardonically, challenging him. “And what is that?” His gaze is disdainful and rude, but you don’t let him intimidate you. “Are you afraid?”

If you were anyone else, you’d be shaking with fear. Joel was tough, to the point where some might call him cynical. But you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. His goal was to scare you off.

“Go. I don’t need you here.” You don’t move an inch, resolved to bring an end to whatever this was and ignoring his vicious glare.

“No,” you huffed.

“I told you to leave.” He was getting pissed, his voice trembling with anger and the cold words slicing the tense air.

“And I said no. I don’t take orders from you.” His lips were sealed in a fine line, eyes feisty. “Be honest with me and then I’ll see myself out.”

Silence again. A more prolonged one in which none of you had the bravery to come forward. Every second that went on and nothing happened was a torture you could not endure. That was it then, you’d made a fool of yourself yet again.

“Fine.” Your voice comes out unsteady from choking down the tears as you stand up straight, set on leaving all these feelings behind.

But right when you walk by his side, Joel’s hand grabs your arm softly. His grip wasn’t strong enough to hold you back if you really wanted to go, kind of like he was unsure about his own actions.

“Push me away.” He pleads. And it sounds desperate, as if the whole situation caused him agony. “Please, push me away.”

Your wet your lips, astonished by how guilty he appeared when practically begging you to stay away, “I can’t,” you respond, “I won’t.”

There was no turning back now. He had trapped himself on purpose and jeopardized everything the moment he laid his hand on you. The minute your eyes found each other’s, he realized he’d just lost all willpower that remained.

Joel pulled you closer and the sudden action almost made you trip, forcing you to place both hands on his chest to stay still. Something flicked in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite comprehend. But you took it as a sign to fully give in to your desires, as long as he’d permit it. You sit on his lap, solely enjoying the moment. His face, despite the beating, was ever so beautiful. It wasn’t fair. If he wanted you too, why did he have make it this difficult? Perhaps he was simply… Insecure.

“What have you done to me, sweetheart?” He asked, voice strained as he looks down at your lips. Your fingertips gently trace the edges of his face.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” One of his hands covers your thigh and the other rests on his knee.

“Do you like playin’ around with an old man like me?” You can’t help but laugh a bit, your thumb going across his bottom lip. “Is this what you want? A sweet thing like you can do so much better.”

“I don’t care for boys, or any other men for that matter.” His chest swells at your words. “I like you, Joel. Is that so hard to believe?” The man swears you can feel his heart thumping against his ribs when he whispers a barely audible ‘yes’. His honesty moved you and grew a weird feeling in your chest that impelled you to prove him wrong.

In response, you lastly get rid of that awful distance, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips and feeling the unfamiliar tickle of his mustache. It was stubborn at first, but he caved in eventually, kissing you back slowly. He took his time to relish on your taste before deepening the kiss, manhandling you on top of him. Joel’s hands are on your lower back and the nape of your neck as his tongue explores your mouth in depth, letting go of himself. You moaned in between the kiss, drunken by every light stimulation, which only spurred him on and turned the situation hungrier, more desperate.

“Joel…” you pull back, laying your forehead against his. “I have to go.”

You feel him chuckle at your declaration. “Seriously? Now?” His tone was raspy and faint.

“I don’t want to.” You assure with a pout, “But I fear that if I stay, this won’t end in a simple kiss. And Ellie’s upstairs, remember?” He agreed it was for the best, but still couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself, asking you to stay the night even if he had to sleep on the couch.

That was the night that started everything.

After that weekend, the way he acted changed radically. He remained with that grim, stoic exterior. Yet, he was brighter around you, more beaming. In public, he’d always find a way to touch you, even if it was merely a brief brush of skin. On bolder days, he’d pull you apart from a crown and take you somewhere darker to make out for as long as you could. Which wasn’t much, since everyone always appeared to have some sort of unresolved business with either of you.

Today, however, something was odd. Joel went off, as usual, and you stayed with Ellie, who had found an old, ragged chessboard somewhere in Jackson. A game that, as it turns out, you particularly loved.

That’s how you ended up here.

Three rounds afterwards, you keep winning and increasing his irritation.

“Checkmate.” You say for the fifth time tonight, giving him a triumphant smile, getting up from your seat to pour some whiskey into your glass.

“You’re cheating.” He barks, annoyed.

“See! I told you.” Ellie backed him up and the way they teamed up to bash you almost made you giggle.

“Suck it up, losers!” You shout from the kitchen, entertained by their resentment.

“Spill your secrets then, otherwise I will simply not be convinced.” She replies, glowering.

The drink nearly dissolves on your tongue and you leave the glass on the counter, coming to join them again. You rest both hands on her shoulders in a friendly gesture.

“My grandpa thought me when I was young. Before the outbreak, I mean.” Ellie turns her head to look at you in interest. “He got sick afterwards… Forgetful and amnesiac.” You explain, “Chess stimulated his brain and since I was his only family left, we would spend hours playing.” Joel’s chest feels heavy at the sight of your nostalgic smile. “We had a great time together. He… Passed away a couple years ago.” Ellie takes your hand on her own in a comforting manner, but you don’t feel particularly sad, simply emotional about the past. “Hey, kiddo. Didn’t you have a movie night with Dina today?”

“Shit!” Her eyes widen. “Thanks for the reminder, I totally lost track of time,” she gets up with an apologetic smile, “I’m gonna head out now.” She quickly takes a jacket and ties her hair up. “You guys can keep playing or… I don’t know, just don’t wait around for me.”

And just like that, you’re left alone.

After an entire week of sneaking around and behind everyone’s back, you’re finally alone.

There’s a shift in the air of the room and you narrow your eyes when you gape at him. “You think she knows something?”

He tilts his head to the side and finishes his whiskey. “Probably. Can’t know for sure.” The vague answer made you shrug, deciding to put a pin to it for later.

Now that no one was around, you were determined to have some fun, coming up with a plan that could escalate things between you. And he surely thought so too. It wouldn’t be difficult to get his attention, since he was constantly monitoring your every move. Being that way, you intentionally stand beside him when leaning to reorder the pieces, giving him a very good view of your ass.

“Another round?” You ask tauntingly, “Or are you already tired of getting defeated?”

He grunts, upset by the previous resolutions. “I’d like to play another game.” You turn around with a cheeky smile. “One that I won’t lose.”

“And what would that be?” He gives you a darkened, intense glance, his lips pursed in a smirk.

Joel Miller was a man of few words and he totally lived up to it. Instead of responding, he grabbed your hips and dragged your body to the side, so that you were now standing between his legs, lingering against the edge of the table. You swallow hard, meeting his heavy gaze from above him. It made your pulse raise and blood rush, igniting something that you haven’t quite felt with anyone else yet. He presses a kiss to your clothed abdomen, eyes never wandering from yours as he lowers his lips to your pelvis, lifting your shirt leisurely.

“Look at you, darlin’. All flustered and I’ve barely done anything.” Your chest rises and falls methodically, the atmosphere feeling dense despite the chilly air. Your tongue darts out to lick your lips when he starts laying open-mouthed kisses along your exposed belly, sending shivers through your whole body, “Off,” he motions at your clothes.

You do as told, getting rid of the shirt and tossing it to the floor. His big, warm hands strain your movements as he explores your skin, kissing all the way up to the valley of your breasts.

“Joel…” you take a fistful of his hair and pull at it mildly, just enough to yank his head backwards and bring your lips together, swallowing a whimper from him.

The kiss is ambitious, all teeth and tongue, as if you had been craving each other for long and had just barely given in. He swiftly stands up and sits you at the end of the table, spreading your knees to settle in between your thighs. He parts from your mouth and traces your jawline, neck and collarbones, nibbling and sucking the sensitive skin, lightly scraping it with his facial hair. You were a mess at this point, panting and tugging at him as if you were about to collapse. But then he stops, breathing heavily against your chest and looking up to you with dark, lustful eyes.

“What- Did I do something wrong?” You stutter with uncertainty.

“Ain’t nothing wrong, angel.” His hand rests heavy on your thigh, a mischievous grin painted on his face. “But I told you we’d play a different game, didn’t I?”

This new side of him was exciting in many ways possible and whatever it was he wanted to do, you were certain it was going to be fun. And, possibly, a bit tortuous. You peer at him in expectation.

“Make your move.” He commanded, pointing the board with a succinct head movement. You obligue, choosing a random pawn and moving it with shaky hands while struggling to think straight. The man hums and decides to mirror your tactic. “Keep goin’.”

Next thing you know his fingers unhook your bra and you have to make a quick choice in spite of all the distractions. At the end, you go for a horse, barely capable of register anything other than his hands taking off the piece of clothing. After contemplating your scheme, he moves another pawn in return.

“Shit.” He hissed at the sight of your exposed tits, nipples hard from the cold air and arousal. “Focus.”

You weren’t sure if that last order was for him or for you, but either way the game kept going. He had enough attention span to grope your breasts and tweak your nipples between the pads of his calloused fingers, while also moving the chess pieces around. You couldn’t say the same for yourself; a louder moan escaping your lips when he replaced his fingers with his mouth.

The more ministrations he provided, the harder it became to make strategic moves. But you were determined not to let him win, regardless of the ache between your legs and the growing wetness in your panties that he refused to attend.

“Joel, I…” He takes away one of your rooks, his lips attached to your neck and hands caressing your inner thighs. “I need more.”

He huffs a laugh that vibrates through your lower body. “That right, angel? Tell me what you want.”

You take away his only bishop left and hear him growl at his approaching defeat. “Touch me, please.”

“Where?” His scent fogs your senses, so manly and distinctive of him, growing the need to feel him in any way possible. “Words, sweetheart.”

“I need your fingers in my cunt, Joel.” You spit out, watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down his throat and increasing his arousal with your lack of coyness. “Please.”

“Anything for my pretty girl.” He unbuttons your pants and slides one hand inside, palming your pussy over the underwear, altering your breathing pattern and moving the queen with his free hand. “Fuck, you’re drippin’.” You grind against his hand and his grip on your waist tightens to keep you still as he kneads circles on your clit over the thin fabric. “Your turn, darlin’.”

The game carries on at the same time as he moves your panties aside and slides two thick fingers inside your entrance, his thumb still fondling your nub slowly. You can’t keep your moans at low and the stimulation picks up when he curls his digits to hit your right spots. All that can be heard in the room is the cracking wood of the fireplace and the squelching sounds of your pussy.

“Jesus Christ, Joel…” you cry out his name, burying your face on the crook of his neck, grabbing the soft flannel in your fists and spilling all your whimpers into his ear, delighting yourself with the way he smelt. He groans at the feeling of your bare chest pressed to him, his cock throbbing painfully at every sound you’d make.

“You like that, darlin’? You like to fuck my fingers on top of this table like a needy little whore?” You clench around him and throw your head back, a new wave of slick coating all the way to his knuckles. “Ah, so you do like it.”

“Yes, Joel. I-” he speeds up his pace, greedily circling your clit in a way that makes your back arch, giving him a glorious view from his position.

“Fuck, you’re so hot. Been wanting to do this for so fuckin’ long…” He admits, peppering kisses all over your breasts.

“Me too. Thought about you when I-” your voice gets lost at the sudden feeling of heat settling on your lower stomach, building up your crescendo. “When I was alone.” Your confession only manages to prompt him further and make his movements more effective. You squirm under his touch, a hand messing his hair while the other holds his belt to keep him close.

He groans a deep ‘fuck’ at the pathetic sound you made. All because of him. No; all of them for him.

“Joel, I’m- shit, I’m close,” there’s a hotness on the pit of your stomach that extends to your legs.

“I know, angel.” He coos, his free hand brushing the hair out of your face. “Go ahead, do it.” His words are all it takes for your orgasm to hit, shocking every nerve on your body. He helps you come down from it, tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin as your body quivers from elation.

“Joel…” you whisper, both your hands on his belt and going to unbuckle it, watching as he takes both fingers to his lips and licks them clean.

“Sweet” he kisses you again, deeply. You happily return it with the same energy, nibbling at his bottom lip while your palm slides inside his jeans to feel up his bulge over the underwear. He muffles a moan in your mouth, his hot, hard cock twitching under your grip.

Your hand drifts inside his boxers to feel him directly, your thumb rubbing over the tip to spread the surprising amount of precum that oozed there. Joel gasped into your mouth, the sound prompting you further.

“Checkmate.” You tell him, pulling back only when you needed to breathe, guiding your finger to your tongue in order to taste him. “I won.”

His eyes divert to the board in awe, and you admire his mesmerized expression when he confirms that you had, in fact, won again. Joel comes back to dote on your devilish grin, fueled up by a new thrill of excitement.

“Fuck this…” he mutters through gritted teeth, mindlessly tossing the board to the side and letting it fall off the table along with all the pieces, making an absolute mess. It appears like he doesn’t even register any of it, going straight back to kissing you, his hands sliding your pants down your legs.

“Shit, Joel…” You can’t help but laugh at his reaction, encouraged by his sudden passion.

As your lips collide once again, you start to unbutton his shirt and he helps you out of your jeans, along with your very wet panties. He pushes your back against the wooden surface, holding you down with a hand around your neck.

“Winners that boast in their victory are only brats.” He snarls, taking his dick out for you to see. Your mouth waters at the sight of it: thick, bigger than you could’ve expected, the head swollen and glistening. “Brats need to be tamed.”

You whine when he parts your thighs even wider, teasing your slit with his tip, covering it in your slick and intentionally grazing your aching clit, urging you to grab his bicep for support.

“Can’t you just fuck me already?” You blurt out, the sensation only edging you more. “I might just cum again from all the teasing.”

His fingertip sweeps across your bottom lip, an eyebrow raised. “You really that sensitive, angel?” He questions, “Or is it just because of me?”

The inquiry nearly makes you crack up. Damn, the man was totally clueless. “Are you really that unaware of the effect you have on me?”

His stare reflects how pleased he is to hear that. “How many times did you beat me tonight, sweetheart?”

It takes an actual effort for you to recall and muster up an answer when he keeps toying with you so mercilessly. “Three, I presume.”

Joel’s hand slithers to your lower back, keeping you angled for him. “Then I’ll get you off three times.” Your heart jumps at the sentence and you look at him in disbelief. “Can you do that, angel?”

Three fucking times?

When your whole life men had only ever given you… None, practically. One at most, if you were lucky enough. And Joel mother-fucking Miller had the nerve to ask if you could handle three.

“Bet.” The answer is music to his ears, giving in once and for all as he enters you unhurriedly.

He’s so big and you feel him splitting you open exquisitely, the sensation fading any thoughts, beliefs or identities from your mind. Right now, all you know is him. It stings a little and it forces you to screw your eyes shut, letting out a small whine as he bottoms out, your nails digging on his arm.

“You’re doing s’good, baby.” He continues to say in midst of it, talking your way through it, “Taking me so well…” You think it’s somewhat unfair that he’s still fully clothed and you’re naked as the day you came; yet, at the moment your mind can’t even think of anything but his cock, buried deep inside you. “If something feels off or it becomes to much… Let me know and I’ll stop.” You nod, eagerness starting to scratch your insides.

“Yes. Now can you please, please start moving.” He holds back a chuckle, gazing at you from above, barely lifting your hips to feel more of him.

“Atta girl,” he obeys, thrusting his hips sharply and deep. “Look so pretty beggin’ to be fucked.” His big arm travels to the arch in your back, withdrawing and pushing in again, slowly losing his consciousness to pleasure.

“Fucking hell, you fill me up so good…” he moans gruffly at your comment, pulling you down on his cock as he picks up an unrelenting pace, hitting every right spot as if he knew them all by memory.

“Shit, you’re so tight,” Joel drags in an out, rejoicing himself in every high pitched moan you’d spill. Your legs wrap around his waist in an effort to keep him as close as you could.

The angle is very intimate, his whole body flushed against yours, warm and firm, while your hand snakes under his flannel to dig your nails on his bare shoulders, the other scratching his scalp delicately and Joel’s hot, erratic breaths hitting your face as you gape at him. It’s like everything else disappeared and it was all about the two of you and this moment of pure rapture. Unable to contain your urge, you search for his lips, kissing him one more time, the mixture of mint and alcohol in his mouth fogging your senses in the best way possible.

His tip nudges your g-spot relentlessly, the stretch his girth provided so satisfying that you clench around him as your second orgasm approaches, causing him to pull apart from the kiss and let out a sinful groan, deep from his throat, that sends a shudder up your spine. It all becomes too much; the friction of your delicate nipples with his shirt, his thick cock dragging against your walls and lastly, Joel’s teeth biting down the soft skin under your ear, his facial hair scraping deliciously. That is your cum button.

“That’s my girl, making a mess on my dick,” he fucks you through it, slowing down his pace and only pulling out when your legs tremble. “Say it darlin’, tell me who you belong to.”

“You, Joel…” he basks in the view of your fucked out self, looking up at him in a delirious state, eyes low, heat soared across your cheeks and lips plumped. “Shit, Miller,” you sit up, arm still hanging around his broad shoulders while his hard, throbbing cock rested against your thigh. “You’re so fucking hot, did you know that? It drives me insane.”

He laughs huskily, his big hand caressing the side of your face in a caring manner. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he speaks softly, “I think I might’ve fucked you so hard I scrambled your brain.”

You actually crack up this time, pressing a kiss to his forehead and muttering an: “Idiot.” He grabs your thighs and methodically swirls your body, flushing your back against his chest. Without warning, he slams into you again, making you yelp at the sudden action.

“You’ve got a dirty mouth,” he pokes fun at you, “next time we’ll put it to use.” And the promise raises goosebumps on your skin.

This new position gave you the opportunity to feel him deeper, if that was even possible. His thighs and hips firm against yours, every single snap making you feel that delicious stretch he provided as your cunt envelopes him tightly. But you were already far too sensitive and every light touch added to his thrusts made your body feel weaker.

“Joel, I-” he holds you with an arm covering your waist, his fingers pinching your nipples. “Fuck, I won’t last…”

He becomes more vocal, his disjointed moans drifting from his lips right into your ear while the hand on your hip makes its way to rub your clit gloriously, in a way that makes you wonder just how the fuck does he know exactly what your body likes.

“Is my sweet girl gonna cum for me?” you nod, unable to form any words, only capable of reveling on the way his cock throbs inside you. “Speak, remember?”

But you can’t. Nothing comes out of your mouth besides his name, like a constant plea. When the third one finally came, it was simply euphoric; your whole body shudders and your vision goes white, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes as you start to feel lightheaded. Joel draws out with a grunt, a string of curses leaving his lips as you spin around to see him. Your hand wraps around his own when he fucks his fist and you take in the sight of him cumming all over your fingers, his forehead laying on your shoulder as you milk him. Inevitably, you lick your fingers to taste his salty load. A sight that would be engraved in his brain for the rest of his days and that could possibly haunt him in his time apart from you.

“Checkmate my ass,” he grits between shaky breaths, your hand stroking his hair as he comes down from his high.

“What a sore loser…” you joke. In fact, you plan to say something more, but you feel too tired for anything.

It didn’t really matter, though. Joel took good care of you. He bathed with you, cleaned up the whole mess and gave you one of his shirts for you to sleep with, eventually going to bed with your very passed out self.

Well, if Ellie didn’t know anything before, she surely will now.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Because Chapter 261 broke me

„I’m really not more than a war machine, am I?”

Your eyes dart towards the white-haired man sitting next to you immediately, a feeling of deep grief getting a hold of your heart.

“Why would you even think something like that, Satoru? You’re so much more than that. You’re funny, you’re kind, you’re-“

“The strongest. That’s all I’ll ever be in this world”, he interrupts you with low voice, his gaze hanging onto the barely lit skyscrapers around both of you.

Out of instinct, you grab his hand, force him to look at you.

“You’re Satoru, even without the Gojo. I know this world has treated you rough since the day you’ve been born, I know the only person who ever saw more in you than the blessed one was Suguru. But…I’m here too, okay? And in my world, you’ll always be Satoru with the cheekiest grin and the driest humor on this earth. You’ll always be the one I’m looking up to, the one who cares about others before even thinking about himself. You’ll always be the only hope I have left in this shitty world, the prove that kindness actually exist. I love you. Not for the fact that you are Gojo, but for being here as Satoru.”

“(y/n).”

Your name is nothing but a fade away whisper, a silent prayer on top of this building with the busy streets to your feet. Only you and the man who had to suffer more than anyone else, who was forced to watch countless friends die, who carries the responsibility for this world on his broad shoulders.

“I will always choose you, Satoru. No matter how rough it gets, no matter what it does to me. I will always stay by your side.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, (y/n). You’ll never know if someday, I will be used against you as well”, he mumbles while digging his head into your neck, taking in your calming scent.

“If that’s the case I will do everything I can to get you back”, you reply without hesitation.

“It’s not that easy, love. The world of jujutsu has never been this easy. When this day comes, you’ll have to kill me.”

Instantly, you grab his face, take in the stinging sight of his glossy blue eyes. Those oh so gorgeous eyes that make his life so difficult, the eyes you’d recognize out of a thousand pairs. Why would those eyes ever want to hurt you?

-a few years later-

“Satoru?”, you croak out.

You feel like collapsing any given minute. Out of joy, grief, agony? You can’t put a finger on it. Because it shouldn’t be possible for the love of your life to stand in front of you. Because he died a painful death. Because not even Gojo Satoru is able to survive everything.

But those bright blue eyes…They look exactly like the ones you loved so much, the eyes that supported you through day and night. But at the same time, they don’t look like his at all. No, something is off, this isn’t right.

“Satoru is gone”, his familiar voice speaks out without any emotion.

“I’ll take over from now on.”

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Bait and Switch. || Scammer!Reader x Victim!Ghost

Rating: M Words: 2.6K~ Pairing: scammer!Reader x victim(but not really)!Ghost CW: phone scams/conning (reader never actually cons him), financial issues?, threats (Simon threatens to find reader), degradation?. other tags: crack, OOC Simon., you/your pronouns (gn!reader but uses a female fake name), obviously fake names (pun/funny), lying, joking, the weirdest meet cute? a/n: this started out as a joke/crack and turned serious/dark at the end? idk how i did this.

Simon Riley would say that being legally dead is the best thing to have happened to him and that's because it allowed him to escape a bunch of responsibilities that regular men have to uphold.

He gets paid covertly, in full, and does not have to pay taxes on his income.

He rented a flat from a sweet ol' lady, who didn't run a background check or ask for a copy of his birth certificate (terrible choice on her part), and he pays her by dropping an envelope of cash in her mailbox on the 1st of every of the month.

He not only is old enough to drink but also sounds and looks old enough as well, which means he doesn't need I.D. to buy alcohol (not that any shops or bars really care enough to check).

He doesn't have a credit card. Or a debit card for that matter. Hell, he doesn't even have a bank account, so he doesn't have to pay maintenance fees.

He doesn't have a smartphone. And up until recently he only had a pager. In fact, the only reason he doesn't have a pager anymore is because it got shot in the crossfire during a mission... so Price forced him to get a jitterbug.

In short... Simon Riley can escape a lot of things (death, taxes, Philip Graves...). But telemarketers and phone scammers are not one of those things.

That's how, on a boring Wednesday afternoon, his new phone ends up ringing, like it had been doing multiple times a week for the last four weeks.

Telemarketers.

He never got telemarketers on his pager.

He hated telemarketers.

But that didn't mean he blocked them-

"What?" He answered as soon as he picked up the phone.

An automated voice came over the call, one of those typical Siri-esque robot voices, delivering a prepared speech: "Congratulations! You've won a free cruise to the Bahamas! To claim your prize, press 1."

Oh, now, this was different. He didn't need to hear more to know it was a scam call. But that didn't mean he was going to hang up.

So Simon pressed key 1, which caused a beep to sound over the call.

"Thank you!" The automated voice continued. "We are now connecting you to a live operator to claim your prize!"

Barely a millisecond went by before you took over the call. "Good afternoon, this is Stella Gormoni with Blissful Blessings Inc.! Who am I speaking with?"

As stereotypical as it is, Simon had expected a different voice on the other end of the line... maybe from a scammer in a foreign country who'd speak heavily-accented English...

But instead, he got a sweet and professional sounding person... It almost made him second-guess the scam that was being pulled on him.

His mind moved quick at coming up with a fake name. Not just a fake one, but a pun one too. "Wanh'a, first name Aiden." He replied, his gruff voice reverberating on the call.

"And how do you spell that?" You asked him politely, and, through your headset, he could hear your keyboard keys clacking in the background.

"That's A-I-D-E-N." He replied as he entered his kitchen, spelling his first, as if that was somehow what was causing you difficulty.

"Uh-huh!" You acknowledged in a peppy tone. "And... your surname?" You asked him.

"W-A-N-H-'-A." He continued spelling as he crossed the small kitchen, hearing your fingers tapping away at your keyboard in his ear.

For a moment, you didn't talk, as if stunned into silence. Had you just picked up on the fact he was trolling you by giving you a name that, phonetically, sounded like 'I Don't Wanna'? Probably. But you hadn't hung up yet.

"Well, congratulations, Mr. Wanh'a, you just won an all-inclusive, two-week long cruise to the Bahamas!" Your peppy tone made him bite his lip to contain a laugh. Well, at least you were dedicated in continuing the scam. "How are you feeling?"

"Very well, and yourself?" Simon asked casually as he leaned himself against the door of his refrigerator, leaning down to look inside and find a snack.

"I'm doing very well, thank you, sir." You replied in a cheerful tone. "So, let's process the information so we can get you your prize, shall we?" You announced in a polite tone.

"Go right on ahead, sweet'eart." He murmured as he grabbed a yogurt and closed the fridge with his hip, sitting at the table and peeling open the lid.

"Well, for us to start, I'm going to need your-"

"Actually, I have a question, before we start." Simon interrupted your speech, cutting off your silver-tongued lies.

You went silent for just a moment before you replied with a sweet little: "Of course, what can I help you with, Mr. Wanh'a?"

"I want to know how exactly I signed up to receive this prize." Simon replied before he placed a spoonful of yogurt in his mouth.

He was trying to accomplish two things by doing this: 1) throw you off your game and make you stammer and stutter, and 2) see how long it took for you to get annoyed, and hang up on him.

"Well, that's what I was going to explain, you see-" You replied, a smile behind your voice, but his trained ears could pick up the slight frustration. It made Simon smile.

"Oh, then, I'm sorry for interrupting you, sweet'art, please go ahead." He replied and gestured with his spoon, as if giving you the stage, unnecessarily so, because you were not there to watch it.

"As I was saying... You were entered automatically into the draw by buying a cereal box of any Kellog's cereal at Tesco. I'm sure you saw a 'Win a free cruise!' sticker on yours?" You asked in a professional and sickly-sweet tone.

He could see right through your scam, he had already done that. You name a famous brand, one people trust, to trick naive or impressionable ones into believing you...

Normal people would tell you they no longer have the cereal box, many of them naive enough to believe your scam despite the fact they hadn't even bought one of those boxes in the first place...

Next, you'd ask for the card used to make the purchase, and some people were dumb enough to read their number aloud to you...

Oh, how he hated scammers. Even more than telemarketers.

"I do remember seeing something like that..." He murmured, his voice deepening, before he popped another spoonful of yogurt past his lips, loudly smacking them right against the receiver of his jitterbug.

"Well, all I need is for you to get the box and read me the code that's imprinted on the inside of the flap!" You announced.

"Well, you see, I would, sweet'art... But my sight isn't so good anymore..." Simon replied. "I'm getting up there in age, you know?" He continued eating his yogurt.

"I understand, sir." You replied. "I'm sorry to hear that. One of my cousins also started losing his vision pretty early." You announced.

Huh.

There was no hint of forced sympathy in your voice.

No, you were being genuine. That was a real story of your life you were telling him...

But you had picked up on the fact he was trolling you, right? So why were you-

"Good thing though, about this system of ours, is that you can just confirm your credit card details so we can double check them and get you that prize!" You had, your tone right back to the scamming silver-tongue you had held until now.

Secretly, Simon had to admit that he admired your commitment to the bit. He couldn't help but smile a bit, amused.

"Oh, of course. Let me just set you down while I get my card." Simon replied and got up, finishing his yogurt and tossing out the plastic container, popping the spoon into the sink, and, after setting down his phone, he walked out of the room.

Simon glanced down at his wrist watch, noting the time on it, then, approached his bedroom door, grabbing his over-the-door pull-up bars, and began doing a quick set, leaving you to 'wait' for him in the kitchen.

After a few sets, he waltzed back into the kitchen and grabbed his phone again. "You still there, da'lin'?" He beckoned in a gruff tone.

You sighed, your politeness sounding slightly more forced. He had kept you waiting for over ten minutes after all. "Yes, sir, I am. Did you get your card, Mr. Wanh'a?"

"Oh, please, enough of this 'sir' thing, Mr. Wanh'a was my mother." He replied, then went silent for just a beat, almost like he could hear your frustration sizzling on he other end.

He was being more and more obvious with his trolling... And it pleased him immensely to imagine a parasite like you seething on the other end of the line, reaching your wits' end.

"You can just call me 'Ai', it's what my friends call me." Simon continued, a smirk forming on his lips. "And we're friends now, right? You're giving me a cruise and everythin'." He added, his tone just as charismatic and peppy as his had been.

"I guess we are!" You replied, returning the overly cheery tone. "So, 'Ai Wanh'a', then?" You asked, but he could hear the mix of frustration and amusement behind your voice.

"Yeah? What d'you want, babygirl?" Simon asked, unable to resist making a more impish remark. And, unfortunately, it had the desired result. It genuinely caused your brain to blue-screen for a moment.

Sure, you'd experienced plenty of people getting angry at you when you attempt to scam them, or even trolling you the same way this bloke was doing but...

It was definitely a first, to have someone flirt with you, even if it was still part of his trolling attempt.

"Your... credit card details?" You ended up adding, your voice still showing the surprise and light meekness that came from him catching you off-guard.

"Oh, of course. Are you ready? It's a very complex number." He replied.

"Ready when you are." You added as you steeled yourself for another smartass response or run around from him.

"Here it is: 1234-5678-9987-6543." He replied, reciting the numbers 1-9 in order and then backward. "And the three digits on the back are: 210."

Oh, he was so fucking annoying! He didn't get to troll you, even if it was pretty amusing of him to do so, then flirt with you, then go back to trolling.

"Sir, if you're not interested in the cruise, just say so. There's no need for this mockery." You replied, your tone serious and professional though you were definitely seething on the inside.

Simon could tell. And he reveled in it. "Oh, but I am interested!" He replied with a smirk behind his voice. "In fact, I want to know more. Will my cabin in the cruise have an ocean view?"

Simon heard you inhale aggressively on the other side of the line, steeling yourself not to hang up on him, or down right berating him on the phone. "Yes, Ai, of course!" He heard your fake cheeriness through your clenched teeth. "It'll be a luxury cabin, actually. Isn't that great?"

"No, it's not that great, actually. I get very seasick, you see?" Simon murmured. "Not to mention, ever since my pet goldfish died, I've just never been able to look at the ocean the same..." He added in a forced pitiful tone.

You went quiet again on the other side and Simon knew he had finally worn you out. He waited to hear the clicking sound of the call falling, but, instead, he just heard you let out a sigh.

"You're very frustrating." You murmured.

"Oh, my, is this how you speak to all your prize winners?" Simon gasped dramatically.

"Shut up... You didn't have to be a smartass, you know?!" You scolded him, as if you had any ground to stand on.

"No, I fear I did, sweet'art." Simon replied as he leaned casually against the kitchen counter. "You called me, interrupted my day, and wasted my time with a scam, of all things. I have every right to be a smartass and have some fun with it." He added, a smug tone obvious in the dulcets of his deep voice.

"Okay? You could've just hung up on me?" You were truly grasping at straws to justify your behaviour. It was comical.

Simon laughed dryly. "And waste an opportunity to annoy a parasitic leech like you?" He quipped.

That stunned you into silence for a moment and you couldn't help but pout a bit.

"Not to mention, what you're doing is illegal, you know that righ'? And I'm military, I could get you arrested for this." He added.

"For that, you'd need to know where I am." You retorted, maybe a bit bratilly. "Besides, I knew you were a soldier."

"And how did you know that?"

"You used the NATO phonetic alphabet while spelling 'your' name'." You replied directly. "Nobody spells 'Aiden' as 'Alpha-India-Delta-Echo-November'."

"So you knew I was military and you still went ahead with your little scam attempt? You're not that bright, are you?" He defied you, which earned him a scoff from your end.

"No, I already knew you were trolling me."

"Oh, so you just wanted to waste my time?"

"That's exactly it, Aiden."

"Sounds to me like you're just looking for trouble, da'lin'." He quipped, his voice having lowered to a gruffer tone.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. "Am not. I'm just enjoying myself. You're not the only one that can make jokes at people's expenses."

"No, you really are..." He tutted his tongue and shook his head. "Need I remind you you were trying to scam me, and other people?" He added in a tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I know what I was doing."

"Yeah? And are you proud of that? Proud of being a conniving little cunt who tries to take people's hard-earned money?" He taunted you.

You didn't reply. Of course you weren't proud. You still had a conscience! But you wouldn't tell him that. He wouldn't get the satisfaction of hearing you apologise.

"I see. You don't like what I'm saying, so you give me the silent treatment, is that it, sweet'art?" He teased. You could hear the smirk behind his words.

"I wonder if you'd still act like this if you had to face me and had to answer for yourself."

Closing your fists tight, you steel yourself again to gain some edge and reply to him. "I guess you're going to keep wondering then. Because it's not happening."

"You know, it's a shame your little computer spat out my phone number for you to call..." He trailed off.

"And why's that?"

"Because instead of anyone else, you got me... And that's just... really bad luck for you. Any other service member, you would've been fine..." He trailed off.

"What, are you some sort of General-Major-Chief thing, super high up the ladder?" You taunted.

Simon simply chuckled dryly on the other side of the line. "No. But I'm definitely the worst person you could've tried to play with."

"Oh, big scary man, what are you gonna do? Gonna come teach me a lesson?" You added, taunting him some more, clearly feeling comfortable behind your laptop, with your smartphone, sitting at home, comfortable and warm, with your pet at your feet. "Oh, I'm so scared!" You added, feigning fear in a dramatic tone.

"Is that a challenge I'm hearing, sweet'art? Inviting me to come pay you a visit?" Simon asked you, his brow cocking, despite the fact you couldn't see it.

You don't know what it was about the way he spoke. The way he said that. The way his voice sounded.

It sent a shiver down your spine, a cold sweat, like he was, for the first time, not joking around anymore.

"No...?" You murmured in reply, feeling your shoulders tensing in an unpleasant way.

"Yeah... That's an invite I'm hearing..." He disregarded what you said and chuckled. "Maybe I'll come pay you a visit then, hey? How does that sound, little leech?"

[trixy812]

⋆｡‧˚ʚ You have all my support ɞ˚‧｡⋆ pt 2

{Nanami Kento x reader}

ִֶָ࣪☾. Content: kento nanami x reader, just fluff, comfort, friends to lovers, nightmare, digimon mentioned!, i really think nanami looks at memes like parents look at memes xdxd (don't forget we are in year 2007ish)

ִֶָ࣪☾. Summary: It was inevitable. Kento Nanami and you became friends.

ִֶָ࣪☾. AN: Hello! I bring you guys part two, I took longer than I expected. Yesterday, I had a very calm nightshift and decided to finally write this second part, i really liked how it turn out. I really want to encourage you all to leave comments because that would help me a lot now that I'm just starting to write! extra: i really want to thank my twiniieee @totallygyomeiswife because she helped to organize my thought and how i want this fic to keep going.

Edit: I noticed some inconsistencies so, I corrected few words & numbers! Thank you again for reading 📚 I am excited to keep writing this 🥰

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4

Omakes Reader meets Gojo First time

🅼🅰🆂🆃🅴🆁🅻🅸🆂🆃

It’s been several months since Haibara’s death, and while Nanami remains the serious, reserved man everyone knows, something has subtly changed in him. In these past months, he’s allowed himself to trust you, finding quiet comfort in your friendship. You've always been there for him, offering support without demands or expectations. Yet Haibara’s memory still casts a long shadow, and sometimes his dreams dredge up painful scenes, reminding him of everything he's lost.

One night, after an especially vivid nightmare where he relives those haunting images of Haibara, Nanami wakes up, gasping for air. Without thinking, he picks up his phone and sends you a message:

Are you awake?

Your response comes almost immediately.

Of course! I’m always awake. You couldn’t sleep again, could you?

Despite the lingering weight of his nightmare, Nanami can’t help but smile slightly.

Do you ever actually sleep?

It’s my superpower! you reply, adding a sunglasses emoji.

Just as he’s about to put his phone down, he sees a notification from you—an image attachment. Curious, he opens it to see a meme of a concerned-looking dog, accompanied by the huge caption: “Your life is as worrisome as my face!” Nanami frowns, confused by the image.

Whose dog is that? he asks.

That doesn’t matter! Just laugh! It’s funny, right?

It seems we have different definitions of funny, he replies, teasing you. But he’s unable to stop himself from smiling, finding a strange comfort in your lightheartedness, and grateful for the brief escape from his thoughts.

Later that day, the two of you meet up at an arcade. You've set your sights on a claw machine with a Palmon plush, and after several failed attempts, you’re determined to get it. The lights and sounds around you barely register; all your attention is on the machine and on winning that Palmon.

Nanami watches from behind, arms crossed, his expression showing his skepticism. “Are you seriously going to keep going? You’ve already spent 3,000 yen. This is ridiculous.”

Without looking away from the machine, you throw him a quick glance. “Yes! I need it. Palmon is beautiful, and I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t win it.”

Nanami raises an eyebrow, doubtful. “Is it really that important?”

“Obviously!” You pout, looking at him with that mix of determination and stubbornness he’s come to recognize. That blend of energy and defiance stirs something in him, and he blurts out a suggestion he hadn’t even thought through

“Come study with me at Jujutsu High.”

The proposal surprises both of you, and you stop playing for a moment, though you keep your hand firmly on the joystick to hold your spot. Smiling, you look at him with a mix of affection and amusement.

“That’s not going to happen. I’ll never be a sorcerer. Not even you could change my mind, Nanami.”

A faint blush rises to your cheeks as you say his name, wondering if you’ve let slip too much. You seem about to say something more, but he interrupts, his voice soft and sorrowful.

“I’m alone now. I was left alone”

His words strike you, and though you want to tell him how much he means to you, how you've had a crush on him for months now but you know it’s not the right moment. He’s still too vulnerable, and you wouldn’t want to take advantage of that. Instead, you try to lighten the mood.

“My dad always used to say, ‘You go to school to study, not to make friends,’” you say, imitating your father’s voice and holding a finger under your nose as if you had a mustache. Nanami watches, but the sadness doesn’t leave his gaze.

Finally, you look him in the eyes, speaking with quiet sincerity. “You have all my support, Nanami. You know that, right?”

Nanami meets your eyes, and for a moment, his expression softens, the sadness easing a little. “Thank you,” he murmurs, and you notice a hint of peace behind his smile.

“After school, you probably have homework, just like me,” you suggest, taking a breath. “How about you come to my house every day after classes, and we do it together? Studying will be easier if we have each other’s company.”

Nanami looks at you, a bit taken aback by the suggestion, but he finds himself surprisingly comforted by the idea. Even though he knows your schoolwork might be very different from his own, the thought reassures him.

“And what about your hospital volunteering? Don’t you have to go?” he asks, concern creeping into his voice.

You wave his concern off. “I’ll do it on weekends. There are fewer people, and I can hide what I’m doing more easily. Don’t worry.” You think to yourself that you will have to do an extra year of volunteering because you are going to reduce your hours a week, but it doesn't bother you at all.

Nanami nods, and without another word, he steps toward the claw machine, nudging you aside gently. Reaching into his pocket, he inserts 100 yen. And as the good sorcerer he is, it looks like magic, the claw captures the Palmon on the first try.

As soon as you see the plush descending, you let out a shout of pure joy, bouncing with excitement. Nanami pulls it from the machine and hands it to you.

“Thank you so much, Kento!” you exclaim, hugging the plush tightly, and realizing, as your face flushes, that you’ve called him by his first name.

Nanami blinks, surprised, but then he smiles, seeing you so happy. For a moment, he catches a glimpse of Haibara in your lively expression, just like that day when you met, and the thought fills him with an unexpected peace.

“So, what time should I be coming to your house to keep up with your ‘plan’?” he asks, his tone faintly teasing.

Unable to help it, your smile grew even wider, thrilled to have the Palmon in your hands, happy that Nanami won it for you, ecstatic because you know you'll see him more often, just as you've dreamed awake before going to sleep, you respond, “Let’s meet at Akihabara station after school, and then we can go together. Does that sound good?”

Nanami nods, satisfied with the plan. “Perfect.” With a slight blush, he murmurs almost to himself, but just loud enough for you to hear, “Keep calling me Kento.”

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4

Omakes

Reader meets Gojo

First time

-

🅼🅰🆂🆃🅴🆁🅻🅸🆂🆃

[k-hotchoisan]

Hi loving you and your writing 💗but right now I am craving for a wooyoung fic based on chase Atlantic "slow down" love u 😘

Coming right up Angel 🩷 and thank you for compliments and the request! I’ve been so bias wrecked by him I wished it’s funny 🫠

Hope you didn’t mind that I sort of cut off the drug usage present in the song because I’m not comfortable with it (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

Slow down? Yeah fucking right.

Genre/warnings: smut, pwp, backshots, unprotected sex, !mentioned alcohol use (drink responsibly please), cream pies, slight manhandling(?), light bondage, established relationship, slow to fast (LMAO)

Word count: 2K

When Wooyoung’s a little more tipsy than usual, he dances between the scale of going slow or about to rearrange your fucking guts, and it’s a fucking surprise every single time it happens. Not that you were complaining of course. No matter what he does, it just drives you up the wall, just constantly begging for more.

He’s had a few drinks tonight, destressing himself for the weekend after a long week of work. You walk over to him, and take the glass from him, pouting. “You shouldn’t drink so much, Woo”, you scold. Wooyoung doesn’t get mad—why would he get mad if it was you? He smiles at you as his arms snake around your waist as he leans into you, spoiling you with kisses on your clothed waist. You settle the cup on the table, away from his reach. His flushed cheeks already an indication that he’s already getting pretty tipsy. He breathes in his body wash that you use when you stay over, and he loves how it smells on you.

“Hi darling”, he hums as his hands trail past under the dress shirt you’re wearing, tickling your thighs, playing against the band of your panties, tempted to just pull it down, his eye contact never breaking with yours. It sends electricity up your spine. “Could I have you instead?” He asks.

You’re wondering if you should tease him a little and deny him of that request just for the sake of your amusement. Your fingers caress his chin and Wooyoung feels himself shiver in anticipation even though you know he’s going to be the one flipping the tables.

You push his hands off you, which takes Wooyoung back by surprise, and cease any form of physical contact with him, before pushing him back against the sofa, then taking the glass of alcohol to the sink. Wooyoung is left confused and half hard on the couch.

You know he’ll come crawling soon enough, because that’s how you’d always lure him in anyway, especially when he’s in such a state. You take your time to walk into your shared bedroom with him and as expected, he catches up so fucking quick, and it’s always by surprise when his pace catches up with yours. He grabs you by your shoulders in such quick motion, as he kicks the door shut, and you squeal as you fall onto the cold sheets. It tickles your nipples as the cold envelopes you.

Before you could muster the energy to get up and face him, Wooyoung’s weight presses against yours from above, and fuck, his erection is just pressing against your legs.

“Darling, why would you leave me hanging like that? Got my feelings hurt”, he whispers too calmly, sending shivers down your spine.

You turn slightly, giving him a mischievous look. “How would I know if you’re sober enough to consent?”

Wooyoung scoffs. “You know I’m always sober enough to fuck you dumb. I would never drink more than I can take.”

You could barely muster a reply as his hands hike up your thighs and hooks onto the band of your underwear, and he tugs down oh so painfully slow. Once the garment is removed, he pulls it taut, looking at the pretty wet spot you made on the fabric, and he smiles, satisfied as you fight every cell in your body not to turn shy.

“Besides, why the fuck would I want to forget every time we make love? That would be such a waste, wouldn’t it?” Wooyoung continues, his finger tracing the curve of your spine through the thin fabric. You don’t dare move a muscle, because you know he’d could just do about anything to you, and that now the real thing truly begins. He slowly pulls the strap of your dress all the way down to your ankles, and tosses it onto the ground, his gaze tracing every single dip and peak of your body as you take shallow breaths.

Wooyoung has a piece of long fabric that he probably picked up along the way chasing after you, and he props your ass up, not forgetting to give it a light spank, causing you to cry out.

“I won’t let this ass go to waste, baby. I promise.” Wooyoung hums as he soaks his fingers with his spit before giving your clit some attention. Your face buried in the sheets, loving how sensitive it feels as the arousal travels up your body. You feel Wooyoung pull your hands behind your back and the fabric going through it’s rounds on your wrists.

He leans in from behind, kissing the nape of your neck, before he says, “tell me if it hurts okay?” You nod, feeling your cunt already dripping from the anticipation.

He loops the rest of the fabric to your wrist to restrain them—just how he likes it. He stands back, admiring your ass, as well as the way your fluids are leaking out from your hole—and he hasn’t even started yet.

“Fuck. You’re one pretty little slut”, he inhales, taking the sight of you in like that, and that only makes your cunt flutter at the air. Wooyoung smirks before diving right in, licking a stripe, making sure his tongue flicks against your clit, drinking in your juices as well as your moans. His fingers are still slicked up, and he doesn’t waste time to spit into your cunt before pushing in said two fingers.

Your eyes roll back in bliss. Fuck, it feels so good. No matter how many time the both of you did this, it always feels like a whole new experience, something you ended up craving so much because Wooyoung does it so fucking well. The combination of the pads of his fingertips press against your bundle of nerves consistently as his tongue sending pleasure to your clit pulls a knot in your cunt as your cried fills up the room.

Wooyoung laps you up as if he hasn’t tasted you before, taking note of how your walls are clenching against his fingers. “Cumming soon babe?” He asks, and you barely could answer him, only a soft “yes” leaving your lips. He finger fucks you even more, your g-spot sensitivity hiking up exponentially and your cries growing louder.

“Wooyoung, I’m close. So fucking good. I’m gonna cum-“ and his tongue on your clit increases in speed. The knot in your stomach snaps as your orgasm washes over you so intensely, your hole pulsing against Wooyoung’s fingers, some of your arousal leaking out as you cream on his fingers. Wooyoung doesn’t relent—he sucks on your clit until you squeal from the overstimulation as your high dies down. He gives your cunt a wet kiss before wiping his stained fingers on his slacks before pulling them down.

You could barely catch your breath before you feel his cock sticking between your folds. He doesn’t enter just yet, but he’s enjoying how cunt is so fucking wet that he’s slipping his cock past your throbbing cunt. The alcohol is slightly fucking him up as it slowly bleeds into him. He sighs as he pushes inch by inch into you, and his cock only grows harder when he hears you cry out in pleasure as he goes in deeper.

“So fucking tight”, he groans as he bottoms out in you, and more sobs come out from you. He lets his cock stay in you for a couple of seconds or so to let you adjust, before pulling back—and soaking in your groans—and then pounding right back into you.

Your moans and cries are on top of the wet sounds of skin slapping each other echo in the room. Wooyoung grips the fabric restraints as he fucks into you, pulling you closer to him so his cock reaches in deeper. He groans as you clench around him. You’re crying out Wooyoung’s name as if your life depends on it, creaming so much on his cock, as drool seeps past the sides of your lips. Your eyes were so blown out from the pleasure that nothing else seemed to matter anymore.

“Damn, you’re so fucking loud, baby”, Wooyoung grunts as he gently pushes your face into the pillow, muffling your voice. He releases you quickly, and opts to land his hand on your ass, the sound bouncing around the walls. Your body shakes in surprise and your cries get cut short, replaced with a squeal as your hole squeezes against Wooyoung’s dick, causing him to groan again.

He leans back to look at the mess—the way he’s cock is just slipping into your hole as you continue to cream and pulse on it, the squelching sounds only heightening the arousal as he uses his thumb to tug against your hole, admiring the way you take his cock so fucking perfectly. Fuck. He could really do this all day.

Your mind was really getting hazy as the knot tightens in your stomach. Your body now has a mind of its own as your hips push back against Wooyoung, feeling yourself almost bounce on his dick at this point frantically.

“Slow down, princess”, Wooyoung says, as he strokes your sides, and you deduce that this round of alcohol was making him more relaxed than aggressive this round. You wonder how you should push him to start rearranging your guts.

Through half lidded eyes and uneven pants, you manage to taunt, “I’m pretty fucking sure you can do better than that, babe.”

Wooyoung raises an eyebrow. The alcohol is definitely hazing his senses, so he definitely takes it at face value. Sometimes it’s too fucking easy to get him wrapped around your finger. Not to mention, since he’s half drunk already, the fabric he tied around you was getting loose, and he doesn’t notice your hands slowly pulling the ones around your wrist taut to loosen it.

“You could go harder if you wanted to. Why hold back? You know how much you and I like it fucking rough right?”

Something snaps in Wooyoung, and his hands grab your hips and pulls you in. Then one hand on the restraints, and the other pushing your head into the pillow, as he fucks you into the mattress. Star burst in your eyelids as you could barely keep up with his pace of fucking. Your cunt is gonna be so abused and sore by the end of this but fuck, it was always worth it.

“Say that again, princess”, he hisses as his cock drags along your cunt, sending sparks of pleasure all over your body. You don’t bother, because your mind was turning into straight up mush thanks to his fat cock.

“That’s it. That’s fucking it”, you barely cry out, your thighs shaking as your second orgasm —which you barely could even process—hits you hard. Wooyoung’s moans mount an octave as he feels his cock being squeezed so perfectly around you.

“Oh my fucking god. I’m cumming” his voice coming out a lot less deeper, as his load is emptied into your cunt in erratic spurts, and his grip on your ass doesn’t lighten until his balls are emptied. He releases you when he’s feels that he’s fucked out, rubbing your lower back in smooth circles.

Your wrists release from the restraints as it falls onto the bed, and you heave against the now, warm, sheets. Wooyoung decides to be playful and falls onto you, knocking out the breath out of you. He rains kisses down your temples, cheeks and on your neck before quickly getting up to turn you to lie on your back. He then heads to the closet to grab a towel to clean you up despite the exhaustion biting him.

He lies beside you, and pulls you into a deep kiss, desperate to taste every part of your before sleep lulls him down. As he pulls back, he flicks your head delicately.

“Babe, I told you to fucking slow down, didn’t I?”

[pyr0-kai]

heyy would you do a fic where derek danforth do coke off of reader body and then fucks the shit out of her?

- 🫧

Hey there beautiful people, I’m back from the dead! This my first time ever writing smut! But i am so down bad for Derek, it’s not even funny.

Thanks for the request 🫧 anonymous 🫧 <3

If you’re a minor, Skip this post!

I am not responsible for what you read/choose to read!

Mine.

Derek Danforth x afab!reader

(I do believe no pronouns used, a few uses of Y/N though)

let me know if I forgot anything.

(Derek gifs are mine :3)

Unprotected sex, Fingering, coke/drug use

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Derek Danforth.

Infamous Billionaire scammer. Sure he had plenty of people working around both his business and his various mansions, but you…

You were special to him. Derek always seems to be peeking at you when he was around. It wasn’t innocent either, he loved the way the uniform you wore cradled your ass. Or just how innocent you look as you smiled at him. It didn’t go unnoticed by you either. You couldn’t deny how hot he was, and just the way he seemed to look at you, almost like a predator admiring its prey.

But no matter how many different sex workers he brought in, nothing cured his want, his need. He needed you.

After a seemingly extra stressful day for Derek, assuming by all the yelling and such that you heard, Derek stepped out of his office.

“Y/N, come here.” He called, pointing, motioning for you. Smirking as you entered his office, door swinging and clicking shut behind you.

As Derek looked at you, there was definitely something in his eye, almost predatory, like a lion. He moved closer to you as you leaned against a wall.

“You know Y/N, I like you a lot. Never questioning me, always doing what I ask. And your little smile you give as people walk by….”

He spoke, smirking as he saw you blushing. He placed his hands on your hips, eyes gazing towards your lips.

“T-thank you Sir…” you replied, blushing even more as Derek’s hands gripped your hips.

“Please… you don’t have to be professional with me like that… Say my name. Now, you’re wondering what I called you in here for i’d assume?” Derek asks.

“Yes s- Derek…” you responded. Derek pulled you closer to him, so you could feel something rub against your thigh, sending a jolt between your legs.

“You don’t understand what you do to me~. Always in my head. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about just bending you over my desk and taking what I want. I want you. I need you.” he growls in your ear. Bringing on hand up to hold your cheek as he kissed you, grinding a little against your clothed thigh. You tried to hold back a small moan, kissing him back.

You couldn’t help but whimper out between the kisses. “Do it… Derek Please…” and thats all he needed to hear.

With a smirk, not breaking the feverish make out, he lead you over to his desk, quickly swiping things out of the way. Grabbing the hem of your shirt, motioning for you to take it off, as he took off his green suit vest. Derek couldn’t help but just stare for a moment, admiring you shirtless as he dug something out of his pocket. White powder.

“Are you really gon-“ you began, but he cut you off.

“Fuck, I need a hit. Just fucking let me.” he growled. Laying it out across your chest, snorting it. He wiped his face and coughed.

You watched him, blushing red.

“Now. You just be a good girl and take it. Alright?” Derek spoke. You nodded in response. “Use your fucking words”.

“Derek… please.” You whine. He can’t help but smirk. He, unbuckled you belt, helping slide off your pants. Derek smirked as he saw the wet spot on your underwear, swiping his finger across it, listening to you whimper. “Don’t tease me… please…”

“You’re always so kind to me… I guess you do deserve a reward” Derek chuckled, pulling down your underwear quickly. Swiping a finger across your wetness, he rubbed his thumb against your clit a bit before sliding a finger inside of you. Derek groaned at just how wet you felt just around his finger. He slowly began pumping his finger in and out of you. Enjoying the pretty sounds you made.

“M-more…. Please.” You said between moans, gripping the edges of his wooden desk tight.

“Are you close Y/N? Gonna fucking cum for me, around my fingers?” Derek asked, as he added another finger inside of you, moving them faster, bumping against your sweet spot. “Fucking cum around my fingers. I want to watch you before I stretch you out with my cock” Derek growled into your ear, sending you over the edge, moaning out his name as you came “D-derek, fuck~!”.

He smirked again, slowly taking his fingers out of you, bringing them up to his mouth. “Fuck… You taste just as sweet as you look~” he teased, watching you blush. Without another word, he slid down his pants and boxers, letting his cock spring free.

“Are you ready~?” Derek asked.

“Fu-fuck yes please.” You replied, looking down and staring a bit at his cock. Derek quickly flipped you over, so you were laying against his desk. He grabbed your ass tightly as he slipped inside of you, giving you time to adjust to the size of him.

“Fuck… you’re perfect, it’s like you were made for me…” he said, biting back moans. His pace gradually increased. Thank god his mansion has thick walls, as the sound of him groaning in your ear, and skin slapping against skin filled his office. Soon enough, you were close again. Derek could tell, so one of his hands that was firmly holding your ass, slid down so he could play with your clit. You came with another loud moan, Derek helping you ride out your 2nd orgasm. You could tell he was close, as he huffed and moaned right next to your ear, hips stuttering as he filled you up.

He slipped out of you slowly before pulling up his pants and boxers. Then moving to help you get dressed again. Once you were dressed, he pulled you in for a passionate kiss, lighting himself a cigarette and whispering one last thing in your ear.

“Mine…”

[elexaria]

Hello :))))👋 just finished reading poly!ghoap angst and I had this idea...

Reader is always a happy person, she can laugh at anything but they just don't know her fake mask. Reader is a person who is mentally damaged and longs for affection because of her past (I still haven't thought about it), so the reader always takes a medicine called Happy Pill to feel happy (I think came up with this idea while reading your poly!ghoap angst and listening to the song Happy Pill.)

If you don't feel comfortable writing this, that's okay, I'm just sharing my ideas with you. I just love your poly!ghoap x reader angst. (And English is not my first language so I have to use google translate🥲 )

no worries! and thank you for the ask <3 it’s funny because i got sent this the same day i had to go pick up my anti depressants prescription after not taking them for almost a week ^^” so definitely relate to the happy pills LOL

you’ve always struggled with your mental health, it’s just something that comes with chronic depression. but it’s practically quadrupled in intensity since moving in with simon and johnny, especially since simon has it out for you. johnny only realises you have depression when you both run to the pharmacy to pick up johnny’s adhd medication, and you ask about the costs for having your sertraline being delivered to the apartment. his ears perk up, but he doesn’t say anything until you’re on the walk back home.

“sertraline, eh?” he says, his stocky hand wrapped around yours, swinging your arm gently as you two walk. you nod, biting the inside of your lip as you look away. “i, uh.. yeah. call ‘em my happy pills.” you jokingly say, eliciting a small squeeze to your hand from johnny. “i had no idea ye were takin’ em, lass. reckon i should remind ye that am always gonnae be here for ye, no matter what.” he replies, thick eyebrows raised as he beams over at you. this man will be the death of you.

when you head to your friend’s hen do, leaving simon and johnny to their own devices for the evening, johnny nuzzles up close to simon on the sofa as they watch a documentary. “did ya know that _____ takes antidepressants?” johnny says, glancing up at simon with raised eyebrows. simon just shrugs, not even bothering to tear his eyes from the telly. “none of my business.” simon gruffly replies, his bulky arm still wrapped around johnny’s shoulders. johnny hums in agreement, before the conversation dissipates.

simon doesn’t like you. he still doesn’t like you. but he’s not an idiot, he’s seen your dosage increase from 5mg to almost 40mg since you’ve moved in with them. he can’t help but feel particularly guilty about this, knowing he’s at least some what responsible for how your dosage has skyrocketed. perhaps he’ll lay off being a bastard to you for a couple of days.

[the-broken-pen]

hi I saw your recent post I hope your moving went smoothly!

I have a loose prompt, if you wanted/had time/had WiFi to write: an interrogation room meet-cute between villain and non-field agent hero

As soon as the door clicked shut behind them the hero realized they were in the wrong room. A very wrong room.

They blinked. The villain blinked, taking them in.

“You look lost.”

“That’s rude,” they responded before they had the chance to think about it. “I work here.”

“Do you now,” the villain said, and the hero grew abruptly aware of their jacket stamped with the Agency logo, their gloves marking their designation as a touch based hero. It was a miracle they didn’t turn red with the embarrassment of it.

They tried the doorknob behind their back. It rattled, but didn’t open, and internally they started screaming. Just a little bit.

“They don’t open from the inside,” the villain said helpfully. “Security risk, or something like that.”

“I know that,” the hero snapped, and the villain raised an eyebrow. “Sorry.”

The apology blurted out before they could stop it.

“Did you just ‘apologize’ to me?” The villain looked at them incredulously.

“Uh,” they managed. “Funny question.”

“Funny—“ the villain cut themself off. “It’s not a question, I literally just heard you apologize.”

“Maybe you should get your hearing checked out,” they offered, and winced, because apparently every sane part of their brain had fled to France and left them with a singular suicidal brain cell.

The villain’s mouth was slightly open, as if they weren’t entirely sure what was happening. The hero shared the same sentiment.

The villain glanced at the camera, then back to the hero.

“You’re not a field agent,” they said, as if it was dawning on them.

“You don’t know that,” the hero said defensively.

“You’re holding a file.”

“Field agents are capable of holding files,” the hero replied. “Kind of rude of you to assume they can’t.”

The whisper of a smile tugged at the corner of the villain’s mouth.

“Sorry,” the villain said, and it was just barely mocking.

The hero rocked on their heels a bit, drumming their fingers on the file in their hands.

“They’re taking a while to get you out,” the villain observed.

“Yeah, Bob’s on duty.”

“Oh, so Bob doesn’t do his job?”

The hero jerked. “I did not say that.”

“It was kind of implied, though,” the villain said earnestly.

The hero had interacted with villains before: ending interviews for files, the odd informant. Never held a conversation though, and certainly not for this long.

This was why they didn’t do field work.

“What, no response?”

The hero smiled, sickeningly sweet. “I’m compiling commentary to add to your file.”

“So you admit to not being a field agent.”

“Continually makes assumptions, poor listening comprehension…”

“Not a very long list,” they pointed out.

The hero felt their smile sharpen. “The rest involves curse words.”

The villain barked a laugh, and the hero jerked slightly in surprise.

The villain regarded them like they were deciding something, as if they could see something within the hero that they themself couldn’t.

It had been a long time, longer than the hero would like to admit, since someone, anyone, had looked at them like that.

Like they mattered at all.

“I like you,” the villain said finally, slowly, like they weren’t entirely sure those were the words that were going to come out.

“You also like crime.”

“And you know how dedicated I am to that,” the villain said pointedly, a glint in their eye.

“How sweet,” the hero managed after a moment. “This is exactly why I became a hero. To be compared to felonies.”

The villain just smirked. They peered down at the handcuffed hands, then looked up at the hero. They weren’t sure when they had moved away from the door, closer to the villain, but somehow it had happened.

There was something warm to this; it sat in the hero’s chest, light and airy.

“I’ll text you when I get out. Say, next week?”

“You’re going to jail,” the hero reminded, mouth dry.

The villain grinned. “Right,” they drawled, amusement splashed across their face. “Jail. Which is where I am going. And where I shall stay. Absolutely.”

Something clicked, and the hero didn’t have to look under the table to know the villain had slipped their cuffs.

Despite their best efforts, their eyes flicked downwards, like they could see the now empty cuffs below the table. The villain grinned further, as if in challenge.

Are you going to tattle?

The hero swallowed.

“I’m really not supposed to be in here.”

“I’ve gathered,” the villain said. “You work the desk all the time?”

“Yes.”

“Personal choice, or…”

“I like it,” the hero said defensively. “It’s just puzzles, and I’m good at those.”

“Puzzles?”

“Putting things together,” they said vaguely. “Routes and evidence and all that.”

The villain’s brow furrowed, as if they were mulling something over. Their gaze returned to the hero, and it was searing.

“You’re the one who found me, aren’t you.”

“Oh,” the hero said, blushing. “That’s-I’m not—“

The villain leaned forward. “Am I in that file?”

The hero tucked it behind their back.

“No.”

“Are you lying?”

“No,” the hero said with emphasis. The villain laughed.

“You’re bad at this,” they said, but it was fond.

“Thanks, I try,” the hero said. They were waiting for the villain to stand up, but they seemed content to just sit there and watch.

“Mhm,” the villain agreed, and for some reason, the hero flushed even further.

The villain’s gaze snapped to the door, and they tilted their head as if listening to something.

“They’ll be here in a minute,” they said. The hero blinked. “To get you out,” the villain prompted.

“Right,” the hero said. They had forgotten they couldn’t leave, but the villain didn’t need to know that. They had a feeling they knew anyways.

“I’ll call you,” the villain reminded.

“You don’t have my number,” the hero protested.

The villain gave them a look. “You’re cute. Do you like pizza? We could do pizza.”

“We could never speak again.”

“Funny, I’ve never heard of that restaurant.”

“You—”

“Oh look, they’re here!” The villain said cheerfully.

The door swung open, and someone the hero vaguely recognized stepped in.

In the next second, the hero was in the hallway.

“Oh, and love,” the villain called, and the hero cursed themself for blushing. “Don’t be jealous of the other felonies. You’ll always be my favorite crime.”

The hero ducked their face behind the file, but they couldn’t stop the pleased smile that crept from the corners of their mouth.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

I’m so sorry if this question is ignorant or stupid I really just want to understand so I can become educated. When someone is asexual would they still gain something from reading explicit fic scenes? Again sorry if I’m ignorant

Hey Nonny *HUGS*

SO SORRY it took so long to reply to this one... Kind of started and then it got forgotten, and I am sorry for that. No better time than Ace Awareness Week to help you understand!!

So, short answer to your question, is YES, SOME aces do, whether to facilitate in self-pleasure, or because seeing their faves happy, or as placeholders because some aces take pleasure-by-proxy, or a variety of other reasons, it just simply makes some of us happy. You'd be surprised how many of those smutty authors are actually ace themselves. It's one of those funny misconceptions that aces are all woobie-uwu-innocent-pure-thoughts-only magical creatures, and I'm here to shatter that illusion... Aces are some of the smuttiest-minded people you will ever meet. Why, I have no idea, maybe it's because we don't fantasize about sex the same way allos do that we can come up with increasingly hornier ideas? LOL No idea.

The thing about asexuality is that it's a HUGE spectrum, and no one ace is exactly the same. A sex-negative ace might get something out of reading smut because it's not involving them. Or they might not at all. Same with sex-positive/neutral aces. It's ALL a matter of what makes us tick.

BUT here's where I go into my LONG answer, and get you REALLY into the Ace Lore™.

I want to introduce you to the microlabel of Aegosexuality (formerly autochorisexuality), which is a term that loosely translates to "sexuality with oneself". The expanded definition, from the Sexuality Wiki, bolding is mine:

It is [...] a disconnect between oneself and a sexual target/object of arousal; may involve sexual fantasies or arousal in response to erotica or pornography, but lacks desire to be an actual participant in the sexual activities therein.

Aegosexuals are known to:

Become aroused by sexual content (at times) without wanting to personally engage in sexual activities.

Masturbate, but feel neutral or repulsed by the idea of having sex with another person.

Fantasize about sex (with varying frequency), but envision people other than themselves, and/or view it in third person, as if watching it on TV, instead of imagining it in the first person, through their own eyes.

Predominantly—or exclusively—fantasize about fictional characters or celebrities in place of people they know personally.

Identify as asexual, feeling little-to-no sexual attraction to people though enjoy masturbating (with varying frequency), are aroused by sexually explicit content, and/or fantasizing of such.

[/end quote]

====

Basically, smut turns them on, but some aces don't want to engage in the smut for-reals. This microlabel makes it ESPECIALLY confusing for newly-figured-out-aces because there hasn't been a lot of information about asexuality's huge spectrum until recently. Aegosexuals can initially believe that they AREN'T ace, BECAUSE they get turned on by porn or smutty stories, but then they're SUPER confused because the idea of having sex themselves is appalling or undesirable. It's a bizarre contradiction, understandably, to outsiders, but it makes COMPLETE sense once an ace figures this out, I promise you.

This is the microlabel I myself fall under. It's not from any trauma or past problems or medical issues. It's just me. That's it. And because of the confusion that this sexuality can bring, it often takes us a LOT longer to have ourselves figured out. For me, it was an accidental stumbling upon the "autochorisexual" label (before it became Aegosexual) and reading up on it that EVERYTHING fell into place. Before that, I thought I was maybe demisexual. After learning about it, I felt okay FINALLY calling myself ace, that I finally found the "right fit" for me. It was the piece of the puzzle that I was missing. I felt really liberated of my self-doubt after that.

And, of course, aros have their version as well called Aegoromantic, which is exactly the same but in a romantic sense.

Here are some more resources for Aegosexuality, if you'd like to learn more about this lesser-known branch on the spectrum:

What Does It Mean to Be Aegosexual? (Cosmopolitan US || November 24, 2022)

WHAT IS AEGOSEXUAL? MEANING, HISTORY, AND USAGE. (Gayety.co ||July 11, 2022)

History of Aegosexuality (The Michigan Gayly || February 1, 2021)

EVERYTHING YOU NEED TOO KNOW ABOUT AEGOSEXUALITY (Live Love LGBTQ+ Blog || October 27, 2017)

VIDEO: 5 Signs You Might Be Aegosexual (Lynn Saga, YouTube || August 6, 2022 || 6m20s)

VIDEO: What is Aegosexuality? | Aspec 101 (Slice Of Ace, YouTube || July 15, 2022 || 3m54s)

VIDEO: Asexual Identities: Aegosexuality (Ace Dad Advice, YouTube || May 22, 2022 || 12m27s)

====

AGAIN, I'm SO sorry I put this ask off for SO long, but I'm glad that I did, so that I could educate you guys on my brand of Asexuality during Ace Awareness Week!

And, finally, no offence taken at ALL! I LOVE educating y'all about stuff I learned through my journey, and you were very respectful in your ask :)

Hope you are well, Nonny, and hope you're still here to see this 🖤💜

[kkukverse]

can we have a drabble or oneshot where the oc says 'i can't pay for anything* this time' or offers to split the budget 50/50 and jungkook literally😒😤😡🤬 gets mad like I'm your man I'm responsible for you etc🤭hehehhe make me a delululu, I don't have work tomorrow♥️😂

I'M SORRY I TOOK TOO LONG TO REPLY! T _ T

anyway, here, enjoy some almost tooth rotting sweet jk. hope you had an amazing rest.

.......

It’s getting colder each day and all you ever wanted now is a hot and spicy soup. You want to sweat after spending a whole day working. Everyone looks gloomy and unmotivated. Perhaps it’s because tomorrow is the weekend. And the weather is not helping at all. 

You're listening to a podcast and it is said that it’s going to snow tonight. It instantly brings a smile to your face. Someone you love adores snow. 

Hours spent at work and your mind is full of that someone that keeps you warm the whole night before. And how he hugs you tightly, very reluctant to let you go to work. He is lucky he gets to work from home today. Knowing that there is someone waiting eagerly for you to come home is lucky too. 

You have about one hour before your office hour ends, and you cannot wait to enjoy the rest of the day outside of this boring chilly concrete. You miss him terribly.

As if being summoned, he called.

“Hello, Jungkook” wincing at your own raspy voice. An effect after  a whole day of not talking to anyone. 

“Ah, my heart. How I miss hearing your beautiful voice.” Jungkook sigh, 

He is always like this, even when your voice is as hoarse as sandpaper, Jungkook still thinks it’s the most beautiful melody he has ever heard, and it always makes you grin like a teenage girl.

“I crave hotpot,” you whine on the phone. Staying true to the teenage girl character. You only act this way for him. Only him. 

“Oh dear, let’s go get some, then. ” Jungkook chuckles. He loves it when you whine to him, requesting something from him, yapping and just being clingy with him. You make him  feel like a real man to you.

“Nevermind,” You suddenly said. You know Jungkook always agrees to your requests. But deep in your heart, you feel selfish. You just wanted to voice your cravings but he is taking it seriously.

“Why?” Now, he puts you on speaker as he shuts down his computer. He is frowning now at your sudden change of mood.

“I just don’t want it. I can cook something later,” you reasoned.

“Baby, we can get it. I’m done with my work. I’m picking you up, and let’s go to our usual hotpot place. Okay?” 

“Jungkook, I can-“

“What is it? What’s on your pretty little head?”

Your fingers are tapping on your desk.

Damn you, Jeon Jungkook. You always know what’s on my mind

“Okay, let’s go for a hotpot.” You agreed. Avoiding him to pry even deeper into your mind. 

“Yeay. That’s my girl, let me treat you,” Jungkook cheers. Your silly man.

“But, I’m paying.” You cut his celebration short.

“No.” he said sternly.

“Yes, Jungkook. I am paying this time.” You want to stand on your decision this time around. If it’s up to him, he is willing to go broke for the whole month just to treat you. 

“Baby, we’re gonna end this conversation and I’m buying you food.” Jungkook’s tone turned flat. It is a sign that he is very adamant on this matter.

“You just spent a lot on the car service, I don’t want to burden you.” You finally blurted out the real reason. 

“That’s it? That’s the reason why you don’t want me to pay?” Jungkook was shocked at first and now he just burst out laughing. “Oh baby, have some faith in me, I still have some money. What do you think I am? Even if my wallet becomes dry, I can eat cucumbers for days. I just can't let my baby’s craving go unsatisfied. My mom's gonna kill me if she finds out. ” Jungkook reassured you.

“Not funny,” you mumble. In truth, you’re about to laugh too, not because of what he said, but because Jungkook always finds a way to make you laugh.

“Plus, it’s not good for the baby if the mommy’s craving is not fulfilled. The baby will be born with drools coming out of their little mouth. Why? Because their father is incompetent. So, my dear, let’s have some hotpot, okay?” He adds. 

Inside the warm hotpot restaurant, your heart and belly are filled to the brim. Jungkook is a champion for spicy food, he keeps on requesting chilli oil as dipping sauce. Your heart flutters every time you look at his reddened cheeks. You just hope the baby comes out as an exact copy of Jeon Jungkook.

[catch1ngmoths]

⋆༺𓆩JEALOUSY𓆪༻⋆

Summary: you and Georg are not dating though you both have a crush on each other. But when Tom decides to flirt with you. It changes the relationship with you and Georg forever.

A/N: HEYYY! This one is LONGGGG yall!! It’s like 8:30 am by the time I’m writing this and I haven’t slept yet…sooo if I don’t respond to any requests after this is posted that means my ass fell asleep

!!SMUT!!

Requested by the lovely, @nyxwritesshit

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

You tipped your head back and laughed at somthing Georg said. Georg smiled at the sight and sound of you. You shook your hair back from your face, shining eyes meeting the boy sitting to your right. Tom smirked at you, his arm resting on the back of your chair.

Tom spoke something in your ear with a voice to low for Georg to hear as a giggle spilled from your soft lips. You whispered something back to Tom, making Georg’s fists clench in his lap.

Your chair moves against the floor as you get up from your seat. You playfully ruffled Tom’s messy locks making Georg frown. Tom smirked, cockiness setting in him.

“I’m full, I’m gonna go clean up.” You say with a smile. “Will we see you tonight?” Tom responds, resting his head onto his hand and looking up at you seductively.

You waved your hand at him dismissively. Georg couldn’t help the way his eyes shifted down to your ass, hips swaying as you walked away. God, he really wanted to see those shorts on him bedroom floor.

“Fuck I love watching her walk away,” tom spoke, “I can’t wait to get acquainted with that ass.”thought he was cut off by Georg. “Hey!” His voice was sharp, “she’s a person you know?” Georg continued.

“What’s it matter to you?” Tom asked, quickly turning his head to georg in confusion. “It’s nothing! Just…treat her with some respect, asshole.” Georg said as he stared down Tom.

“No need to go in on tom like that, dude,” gustav said, “it’s not like it’s the first time he’s said those things.” Georg clenched his jaw as he turned his eyes on gustav. This was news to him.

Tom had never said anything like that about you whenever he was around. “Yeah yeah whatever.” Georg said as their crew members came towards them, telling them their break was over.

Georg couldn’t get his mind off you. The way you laughed, the smile you gave him when he said something funny, the way your legs looked in shorts. The way he imagined you’d look in his bed. Okay, maybe he could understand tom a little…

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

It was finally time for the party that bill was throwing. By the time you showed up, everyone was wasted… everyone except for Georg. He immediately noticed when you walked in and rushed twards you.

He couldn’t take his mind off this afternoon, and it made him realize something, he had to tell you how he felt before someone else got to you before him. He couldn’t stand the thought of that.

You saw georg coming up to you and reached your hands down to smoothen your dress. You wanted to look the best for him. “Hey N/N! I need to talk to you.. can you follow me up to the spare bedroom,” Georg yelled so you could hear him over the music blasting throughout the house.

“Of course!!” You respond as he grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers together in a way that made you feel all fuzzy inside. Once you were in the bedroom, Georg grabbed your other hand as he looks you in your eyes with a undistinguished look.

“Okay so I need to talk to you. It’s important.” Georg says, squeezing your interlocked hands. “Okayy…tell me, I won’t judge!” You reply, smiling reassuringly at him. “Okay I’m just gonna say it.. I’m..I’m in love with you y/n! I’ve always been in love with you.”

Georg holds his breath as he waits for your response but feels your hand slipping out of his. He panics for a moment. But only a moment as your hand reaches up to hold his face.

“Georg…I love you too. It’s always been you. Always.” You say flashing a toothy smile at him. He smiles back as he slowly leans in, you understand what he wants and you lean in as well.

You both lean in until your lips connect. It starts off slow and sweet but very quickly turns rough and heated. You are both grabbing at each other as Georg leans you down on the bed.

Slowly, he kneels between your thighs, taking your underwear into his hands. He traces the rim with his fingers waiting for your permission. Your throat is tied with excitement that you can only bare a nod.

With that, Georg pulls your underwear down. Leaving your dress rolled up at your upper waist and your bottom half being completely exposed to him. Not that you were complaining.

Before you can even think to cover yourself, he laces your fingers together again “Nu uh.. None of that.�� He speaks softly as his head shakes “your beautiful, I want to see all of you.”

You spread your legs apart, giving Georg full access to you. You suddenly gasp as he licked a stripe down your pussy. You can feel his smirk hidden in between your thighs.

The image of your crush that you’ve liked for forever, buried in between your legs, is something that burned into your memory. His long messy hair cover his face, especially those eyes that are closed in pure bliss, seemingly enjoying himself just as much as you.

Your free hand grips onto his soft brown hair. Trying to stay as still as possible. The harder you pull on his hair, the louder he moans.

The hot burning sensation claws its way from your core, slowly dragging itself up ready to burst at any moment. His fingers start to burry themself inside you, adding to that already raging feeling.

Georg pulls away from you, hoping to gather the breaths that he never bothered to take. He doesn’t even have time to do that before your fingers claws onto his shoulders to drag him closer for a messy kiss.

He tastes like you. That singular thought has your head spinning in all directions. You kiss him even harder- tongues thrashing together. Your shaky legs lock around his back- trapping him even closer to you. Even if he wanted to move, he literally couldn't.

His hips start to rut against yours, the fabric of his jeans doing nothing to calm your over sensitive heat. “I need you.” You whine into his mouth, fingers now wrapped around his belt loop.

“Then take me.” He smirks and gets rid of the clothes that cover his body, fumbling with the buttons and zippers. but soon enough he is naked in front of you.

Though he is shaking with excitement and anxiety, one look into your eyes… the eyes he has found precious for so long, has all those fears melting away. You look perfect- no other way to describe how it feels to just look at you, laying down on his bed, waiting for him to give you all you need. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t give you exactly what you deserve.

He positions both himself and you to be as comfortable as possible- being on a mattress with springs that are totally not digging into your back. His fingers cover your hand once again- anything to give you all the comfort you can get.

Slowly, he enters you. He voices his thoughts at the same time. Your mind goes blank. The only thing you can hear is his pretty voice saying, ‘you feel amazing’ and ‘you’re so beautiful’. His praises have your heart overwhelmed, and if you weren’t so content with him inside you- you surely would have cried.

With every soft grind of his hips, he buries himself deeper, until he bottoms out. Soft gasps come from both of your lips. He restraints himself so hard, every inch of him is fighting not to dick you down into this bed.

Your hips start to talk for themselves, moving on their own- aching for anything. Georg doesn’t shy away from giving you what you both crave nor being vocal. No, every time he thrusts back into you, loud moans escape from his chest- not concealing his pleasure whatsoever.

It drives you insane. “More” You whisper. You can and will take as much as he can give you. He leans himself lower, until his face is right against your chest. He hesitates before connecting his mouth onto your breast.

You moan pathetically as his pace shifts to move even faster. His mouth still abuses your chest. Neither can his hands stay in one spot, they slide up and down your burning skin, touching what he can reach.

You tighten around him, causing his rhythm to fatter for a moment. He grounds his hand onto his headboard- attempting to not fall over and crush you. It was so hot, his looming figure on top of you. He looked gorgeous like this.

Sweat drips down on your skin, and the familiar ache comes creeping once more. You cling harder onto his neck and back, surely leaving marks on the skin. He hisses at the sensation, more out of enjoyment rather than pain- which you take mental note of.

Your desperate moans become louder against each other, both of you so close to reaching your high. His face falls against your shoulder- no longer worrying about keeping his weight up right. “Oh shit….I’m gonna cum-” His sentence cut off by his own moan.

You both moaned in each others mouth as you came against one another. The room’s heat was increasing with every pant. After a few moments, when you were both calmed down, Georg kissed all over your face as you giggled. He pulled you on top of him and rubbed your back comfortingly.

“Georg?” You said as you kissed against his chest. “What is it baby?” Baby?! You blushed harshly at the nickname as you continued. “What..what are we?” You said looking up at him with tired eyes.

“Well, I would love for you to be my girlfriend…but whatever you want.” Georg responds as he looks at you with desperation. “Yes..yes! I would love that Georg.” You said as you layed your head back down on his chest.

Georg smiled in relief as he knew you were so close to falling asleep. He kissed your head a few times and pulled the covers against you. “Goodnight my sweet girl.”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[storm-angel989]

Ooooh, How about a Vee's (highschool) daughter halloween fic Plz! :3

Hi friend,

Wow, talk about a quick inspiration! And so very on brand with yesterday being Halloween <3

I know I haven't posted much-grief is a funny thing. Know that I'm still here, taking it day by day as fast or slow as I can.

Enjoy!

<3

Mandy

The First Halloween

Halloween in hell was vastly different than Halloween on Earth.

A younger version of Valentino delighted in the chaos and tricks that rained over Pentagram city every October first. After all, the carnage always ended up strengthening his bank account- whores didn’t come cheap, after all. But having a baby, much less having a baby with a former angel, changed all that. 

“I don’t see why she needs this experience,” Valentino complained to his wife as she zipped up the front of his infant daughter's pumpkin costume. “Going around, begging for candy from total strangers. It’s silly.”

“You never went trick or treating?” His wife asked as she picked up the now babbling child pumpkin. “Even as a kid?”

Ha. As if he had ever had the choice to have that experience. There was so little his wife knew about his life on Earth- and that was intentional. She didn’t need to know what he had gone through, the things he had seen. It didn’t matter, after all. There was nothing he could do about it now, and reliving the past wouldn’t change it. All he needed to do was to be sure his daughter never suffered the same fate. 

“It wasn’t really an option, not where I grew up,” he responded as lightly as he could. “And besides, I just don’t see the point…”

“The point is to have fun and make memories,” she responded firmly. “Speaking of, go put on your costume.” 

There were very few places in their relationship where Valentino drew the line. It just so happened that Halloween costumes were one of them. 

“Mi amore, I am not dressing up like a pumpkin. It’s bad enough I have to wear my human form on Halloween night,” he told her firmly. “I will go trick or treating, and I will carry the grotesque plastic pumpkin to gather the candy. But I will not dress up. End of discussion.”

She rolled her eyes in response, but didn’t argue as she lifted up their daughter, settling her against her own bright orange shirt, painted with black jack-o-lantern eyes. 

“Fine, but open up the portal. I want to be home before dark.”

At that, Valentino obliged. A quick turn of the green glowing stone- a temporary loan from Asmodeus, Sin of Lust himself, and a black portal appeared. A burst of red light and Valentino himself turned from his demon self to a human, a chosen self vastly different from the human body he wore in life. 

“Let’s do this,” Valentino grimaced as he took her hand.

She hesitated and Valentino could feel the disapproval in her eyes as she  looked him over. For the briefest of moments, Valentino was sure she was backing out of this whole silly thing. 

“Val, you can’t go out like that. You look like a pimp.” she said finally. 

“Bebita, I am a pimp,” he replied patiently. “This is what I always wear.”

“Go put on jeans, and an orange shirt at the very least,” she told him. “Come on, for the pictures. For the baby.” 

For anyone else, Valentino would have refused. Thrown a temper tantrum. Smacked them, even. But for his wife? He just sighed, turned and walked to their bedroom. A few moments later, he returned dressed in her requested outfit. 

At that moment, Velvette walked in the door. A glance to him, a glance to his wife. One snarky comment and a glimmer of purple later, and a black jack-o-lantern face appeared on his orange shirt, matching his wifes. 

“Much better,” she commented. “Have fun kids. Vox and I are going out.”

Every inch of Valentino wished he could join them. Instead, he took his wife's hand and through the portal they went. 

Three hours, countless houses and a plethora of pictures later, Valentino dumped the bag of candy onto the kitchen table while his wife settled the baby in the other room. The clamoring of doors snapped him to attention and he turned to see Vox and Velvette walking in the door, a wicked grin on both their faces. 

“Have a good time?��� Valentino asked as he began to sort through the pile of sugar. 

“Meh, it was fine,” Vox said as he reached over to grab a treat from the pile. “Not as much fun without you. Or as profitable, for that matter.”

“Next year, why don’t you just join us?” Valentino asked sarcastically. 

To his surprise both shrugged in response. 

“It’s not out of the question,” Velvette said as she perched on the countertop. “I mean, it was rather boring. Same routine year after year- could use a little spice. Toss me a kit kat.”

“I wouldn’t call trick or treating with a baby spicy,” Valentino said drily as he tossed the requested candy. “But you’re welcome to join.” 

The Fourth Halloween

Never did Valentino ever expect to come to enjoy the holiday he so detested as a child. The memories of him hearing about kids older than him, watching handmade or store bought costumes shine while he was lucky enough to find clean clothes that morning. Of staying in the dark house at night while his mother kept him locked up to prevent him from engaging in what she called “the devil’s holiday”. How ironic, really, was it that he ended up an overlord in hell. 

“I want you to be Daddy Shark for Halloween,” his daughter requested at the turn of September. “And Momma be Mommy Shark. And Uncle Voxxy and Auntie Vel to be Auntie and Uncle Shark!”

His initial reaction was to buckle. To protest and refuse.But as with most things, when it came to her, it wasn’t in his nature to say no. So somehow, by the grace of his daughters big blue eyes, a few “Daddy Pleases” and Auntie Velvette’s sewing machine, the overlord of lust and depravity found himself in his human form on October 31st, dressed in an incredibly warm, overly tight dark blue shark suit. 

“Aw, see? Family costumes are cute, Val!” his wife cooed as she kissed his cheek. 

Cute wasn’t the word for it. He shuddered to think what would happen if the world ever saw three powerful overlords dressed as sharks at the bid of a child. And he hoped beyond hope that his wife was correct- the phones she took truly were private to them and them alone. 

“Let’s just go,” he grumbled as he adjusted his fin. 

His daughter reached for him, a tiny yellow shark held by Vox’s blue and red finned arms.

“Daddy carry me!” She demanded. “Daddy! Want. Daddy.” 

“Someone, please bring the stroller,” Valentino grumbled as he cradled the child to him. “I’m not carrying her all night.”

“You’re gonna have to- we’re going to need the space for all the candy!” Velvette said cheerfully from inside her purple shark costume. “Come on, let’s go!” 

The Sixteenth Halloween

“What do you mean you don’t want to go trick or treating?” Valentino demanded of his daughter. “We go every year, it's a tradition.”

His daughter looked up from where she lay on the couch, phone in hand. 

“I mean, it's kinda lame dad. I’m too old to dress up and beg for candy. And besides, all my friends are meeting at 666 for a Halloween party. I’d rather go there.” 

And just like that, the tradition Valentino had come to adore crumbled before his eyes. Nevermind the fact that 666 was his own club, he’d rather she and her friends get wasted where he could keep a close eye on them. Though, from her attitude lately, he suspected if she ever knew he sat above the scene, watching for any sign of trouble, 666 would cease to be her favorite haunt. 

“Oh, and don’t worry about my costume, I ordered one online and it came yesterday. Aunt Vel is making some minor adjustments, but it will be ready by tonight. All my friends and I are going to match.” She announced as her phone alarm went off, signaling it was time for her to leave for school. She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Love you dad, see you later.” 

Valentino couldn’t believe what he was hearing. In haste, he called his wife, Vox and Velvette in that order. To his surprise, none of them seemed concerned. 

“I mean, it's only normal that she'd want to hang with her friends. Besides, you hate Halloween,” his wife reminded him. “You complain every year.”

Valentino clenched his teeth, “that doesn’t mean I don’t like her participating. It’s safe. We’re all there with her.”

“She’s safe in your club,” Vox reminded him on the second phone call. “That’s the entire reason we curated it the way we did.” 

“And don’t forget what you were doing before you had a kid. We can get back to that. Make higher profits,” Velvette added during the third and final call. “Don’t worry Val. And don’t take it personally.” 

Valentino snapped the hang up button, as he had done with the other two at their first sign of disagreement. How was it that not a single one of them were concerned that their baby was choosing to spend Halloween in a club instead of getting candy? He stood up from where he sat at the kitchen table and yanked on his coat as he made his way to the club. If she wasn’t going to trick or treat, he would at least make sure she spent Halloween getting treats and no tricks. 

From the suite above the dance floor, Valentino had seen and could see everything. Girls dressed in little more than underpants. Desperate men in thrown together costumes. Demons from all circles of hell gathered to celebrate the spookiest night of the year. As he surveyed the scene cautiously, he checked the tracker Vox had installed on his daughter's phone. She should be walking in right about now.

“Hey, is she here yet?” His wife’s voice asked as her arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him softly as she leaned on his shoulder. 

“No, not yet,” he scowled as a group of demons dressed in bunny ears and what he constituted as lingerie, made their way across the club floor. He glanced at his phone. “Stupid thing must be glitching, it says she just walked in.”

“Baby, she did. She’s right there,” she pointed at the crowd of scantily clad demons. “The blonde in the center is her.” 

Valentino was on his feet in an instant as fury swelled through him. Control began to slip and slowly his teeth turned into sharp red points as his overlord form creeped out. Just the thought, let alone the sight of his daughter out in public, dressed like….dressed like…

“Hey, stop. Don’t you even,” his wife snapped as she grabbed his arm. “Val, take a breath.”

“She cannot be out in public dressed like that,” he hissed. 

“Listen, babe. You go down there, let alone looking like like that, and reveal to her that this is your club, you lose the place where you can keep an eye on her. She’ll go somewhere new and…”

“And I’ll buy that club too, if I don’t already own it,” Valentino snapped as he tried to yank his arm out of her grasp. “She can’t be walking around like…” 

“Valentino,” Vox’s calm voice came from the doorway. “You’re not seriously thinking of wrecking a perfectly profitable night, are you?”

Valentino knew better than to look up and see the swirling red and blue eye displayed on Vox’s screen. 

“Vox, that's your niece out there, your niece dressed like…”

“Dressed like what? I outfitted her. The costume she brought online? Total garbage,” Velvette’s voice drifted through the room as she strode in. “Every girl needs a costume like that. She looks fabulous.”

“My daughter doesn’t,” Valentino snapped. “And I don’t appreciate..” 

“Oh come on Val. Are you telling us you never dressed up in questionable costumes as a human teenager? Or went after girls dressed like slutty versions of animals?” Vox teased. “Come on…” 

“I didn’t celebrate Halloween,” Valentino snapped.

All three adults in the room turned and stared at him. 

“Wait, what? Not even when you were little?” Velvette asked. 

“Heck, my father ran the angelic military unit and even I celebrated halloween,” his wife added. “We went down to Earth and…”

“This is besides the point,” Valentino said sharply. “My daughter is not…”

“Your daughter is fine. Sure, she’s a little…scantily clad, but Val, she’s safe.” Vox cut him off. “So again, take a breath.”

Valentino let out a huff and turned away from the group. “It’s not just that. It’s…” He paused as he tried to collect his thoughts and instead, they became more garbled. He stood in silence, watching the scene below. 

“Hey, I’m sad to see our tradition change too,” his wife said softly, slipping her arm in his as she laid her head on his shoulder. “But hey, she’s still our kid. For a few more years at least. And besides, she’s under our watch.”

“What happens then?” Valentino asked quietly. “She grows up, she moves away….”

“We have a long time before any of that,” she reassured him gently. “For now, enjoy the show.”

Valentino raised an eyebrow as he continued to watch the scene below unfold. “What show? Our daughter is not a show, and I’ll be dammed....” 

“Just you watch. We taught her well.”

Below him, a scream of anger on a sopping wet demon. His daughter, laughing and holding an empty glass. Words Valentino never expected to be hurled at his daughter from the mouth of the demon. He didn’t have to give security orders to remove him- he was already being hauled out the door. 

“Guess she really can handle herself,” Valentino muttered. He bent down and kissed his wife's hand. 

“She better, she’s got at least six more halloweens like this one if she’s anything like you.” She teased.