#now time to see what these guys have chosen

[cybrasigilism]

She’s Like Morphine (Player 380 x F!Reader)

content warnings: smut | winners love winning | fingering | cunnilingus | not proofread! | out of game AU | punk rocker! semi x f!reader

character: se-mi (player 380)

A/N: this was requested to me through my messages! i was already planning on writing for se-mi so it works out perfectly :) hope you guys enjoy!

thanks to @elixk1tten for the request!

MDNI! 18+ content ahead, reader discretion is advised

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it was supposed to be a typical friday-night gig. the same old routine. se-mi had grown accustomed to seeing a pretty girl out in the crowd every now and then, but this time, this time it was different. she felt totally unprofessional because for the first time in her whole career of being a punk musician, she couldn’t take her eyes off of one person in the crowd in this dingy little dive bar…

and of course that person, was you.

you had caught se-mi’s eye from the moment she clocked you in the crowd after performing the first song. she no longer felt like she was performing just for the sake of it as usual in that moment, but she felt as though she had to impress you, specifically. like she was singing for you. she knew that she just had to get to you after the performance was done.

after the crowd of regulars dispersed from asking for photos and autographs with se-mi, she kept her eyes peeled for you amongst the many bar patrons. to many this would seem futile, as this dive bar was completely packed. but she had practically memorized your face the moment she got a good look at you out in the crowd. she had hoped that maybe you had stuck around, so she could have a chance to put a name to the face that stunned her.

lucky for her, you had indeed chosen to stick around. se-mi wasn’t the only one who was mystified with the person she saw that night, as that was exactly how you felt when she walked up to centre stage. you felt your cheeks grow hot when she looked at you, and you could tell she was looking right at you, it wasn’t a coincidence. you pretended not to notice as se-mi approached you, nervously trying to act as though you were staring into your drink and definitely not thinking the wholly inappropriate thoughts that you definitely were.

“so, did you enjoy the show?” she chuckled, causing you to jump in your seat a bit, you turned around swiftly and realized just how closely she was actually standing next to you. you stared blankly for a moment, trying to compose yourself, before she cocked her head and asked “you alright?”

“yeah! yeah, i’m okay.” you laughed nervously, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you tried your best not to make too much eye contact. “yeah, i really loved the show.” se-mi smiled, and proceeded to ask if she could sit down, to which you quickly accepted. why wouldn’t you?

“what’s your name?” my, she was rather quick to start getting to know you, wasn’t she. you were so used to people trying to hit on you without at least getting your name first that her formality shocked you. “my name?” you echoed, earning another snicker from se-mi. “what, did you forget your own name or something?” she teased, you could feel your cheeks warm up again with embarrassment. “i’m sorry, it’s (Y/N).” you apologized, bowing your head slightly. “don’t do that, you don’t have anything to apologize for.” she said reassuringly. “i guess you’re used to assholes just coming onto you without a proper introduction, huh.”

you were dumbfounded by how well she was reading you, it’s not exactly like you had a poker face by any means but her accuracy was astounding. “how did you guess?” you rolled your eyes jokingly, taking a sip of your drink. se-mi looked you up and down before blatantly saying “well it’s pretty obvious given how gorgeous you are, i’m sure you’ve got fools tripping over themselves for you all the time.” you chuckled a bit, before tucking your hair behind your ear (a classic move i know), and thanking her. “you know, i don’t usually do this… but i was thinking something.” she started, leaning in a bit so you could hear her better. “how about you come backstage? i’d love to get to know you better, y’know, one on one.” she placed her hand on your thigh at saying the last bit, causing your temperature to spike tenfold, you were positive.

“really?” you stammered, trying not to explode at the contact she just closed between you two. “are you…are you even allowed to have me back there? i don’t have a backstage pass..” se-mi giggled and looked out into the crowd. “yeah usually that would be a problem,” she looked back at you, once more giving you the up-down, “but i think i can make an exception for you.”

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of all the things you expected to happen tonight, being underneath a super hot, punk rocker with her knee between your legs was the very last thing you could have thought. it was a surprise you could even focus on thinking about how you got to this point when you had se-mi marking up your neck, biting softly every once and again. your eyes were practically glazed over as she slid her ringed hands up your shirt and beneath your bra, fingers playing with your nipples. you cried out at the cold sensation of her fingers over your breasts but at the same time you’ve never felt so good. she released herself from your neck and smirked down at you.

“you feeling good?” se-mi asked almost smugly as she toyed with the buttons on your shirt, attempting to break through to what she wanted underneath. you shook your head, barely being able to formulate a sentence before she pressed her knee into your crotch. “i’m gonna need words, baby.” something about her voice just drove you insane, as if in a trance you responded almost instantly. “god, yes.” you moaned out, grabbing at her shirt and pulling her in for a kiss. you could feel se-mi chuckle against your lips, before pulling back and taking off her own shirt. you don’t know why but the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath shocked you, but what she was about to do would shock you even further.

se-mi kissed down your torso all the way to the zipper of your jeans, to which she looked up at you as if waiting for an “okay”, which you gave. she then took the zipper in between her teeth and pulled all the way down, looking up at you all the while. you felt your core heat up as she unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them off, revealing a black, lacy pair of panties. she looked up at you with a smirk and a raised brow. “you were so hoping something like this would happen, weren’t you?” se-mi snickered. you blushed and turned away, but she only laughed before affixing your leg above her shoulder. “no fault there, i’m not about to judge someone for being prepared.”

you squeezed your eyes shut, too nervous to maintain eye contact as she pulled your panties to the side to reveal just how soaked she had gotten you. “shit, how quickly did you get like this?” she asked, practically forcing you to open your eyes. “i..um..” you were well beyond the point of speaking a full sentence now. “i dunno… just need you.” se-mi could feel how desperate you were for her, hell the evidence was literally right in front of her face, and she decided to get a taste of just exactly how much you needed her.

your back forcibly arched as she licked up your pussy, you could tell she wanted to take her time with you and god, you hoped she did. she drew moans and whimpers from you as she sucked on your clit, moaning while she did so herself. you took a handful of her black hair in your hand when she eventually inserted two fingers into your hole, still sucking and licking and your clit. her motions were slow and deliberate, she wanted you to feel every thrust as she pumped her fingers in and out of you.

“ ‘s too- too much.. ‘m gonna.. ‘m gonna…” you managed to utter through your whines, she released herself from your clit, fingers still working your pussy. “you’re gonna what, sweetheart?” she taunted, her motions growing quicker as tears formed in your eyes. “‘m so close, p—lease!” you cry out. feeling your walls clench around her fingers, she could definitely tell. “you’re gonna cum?” se-mi repeated, growing breathy herself. “yeah? then do it. cum for me.” she ordered, going back to sucking and licking your clit. you were practically seeing stars at this point, thoughts and sense be damned, all you could think about was how good se-mi was making you feel, and you did not want her stopping.

your legs began to shake and your grip on her hair had not loosened, you clenched down on her fingers once more before coming off the edge. se-mi’s pace finally slowed down and before you knew it, she had moved from your pussy to your lips, kissing you softly. you could taste yourself on her lips, but you were so far gone you certainly did not care. se-mi took in the state of you and chuckled, before putting her shirt back on and laying you across her lap.

“how about next time, you go down on me?” she suggested, combing her hands through your hair. you nodded, still in a daze. you couldn’t think of anything else but her.

se-mi was like a drug, she was your morphine.

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thanks for reading! and as usual advice and constructive criticism are always appreciated and requested, I’m constantly looking for ways to improve my writing :>

[polarisjisung]

LOVE ON THE COURT | 38 LAST NIGHT WAS A MOVIE

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

WARNINGS | sexual innuendos, swearing

NOTES | smau/written/smau format for this chapter!! also we're super close to the end now gang I'm excited 😼

"Hey, come in." Y/n let Jaemin into her apartment, smiling awkwardly—something Jaemin's seen countless times before— only it had never been directed at him.

They weren't awkward. They didn't do awkward. Or, at least, they hadn't.

His heart sinks just a little.

"Hey, how have you been keeping?" Jaemin asks the question, and as natural as it feels, he wishes he hadn't asked at all. He didn't need to anyway. Not with her.

Jaemin doesn't think he had ever asked Y/n that question. It wasn't what they did, who they were. They didn't need to ask, they just knew.

And even now, when everything seems to have changed, some things are exactly the same, like how Y/n fiddles with a loose strand of her hair, and rocks back and forth on the couch.

He tries desperately to ignore the fact that she'd chosen to sit as far away from him as possible, instead waiting for an answer to his question.

But when she does speak, Jaemin can't bear to hear the response.

"I'm fin-" he interejcts, not wanting to have to see her lie to his face.

"You're nervous," he states, a matter of fact, "don't be peach." his tone softens, his eyes locked on hers, but she doesn't look his way at all.

"How are you?" Y/n's eyes are trained to the floor.

Jaemin hates it.

The question feels too empty, like they're two strangers just passing each other by. Making small talk, it wasn't something they'd ever done, and he didn't want to start now.

He can't help himself when he shuffles towards her, the soft touch of his fingers just below her chin, causing her to look up. And thought she doesn't look into his eyes just yet, Jaemin smiles, knowing she's looking at him. The racing of his heart eases just a little.

Despite the thick air in the room, the weight of the situation, despite the invisible force between them that tugged in all the wrong places, despite all those differences, one thing remained unchanged.

All these years later, Y/n looked his way just the same. Like he was everything. Her everything.

"Look at me, angel," his hand rests softly against her cheek, cradling it, as though she was the most precious thing, "it wasn't your fault."

That causes her eyes to snap upwards, meeting his.

And Jaemin sees it, clear as day, the guilt in her eyes. He wishes he could take it in his hand, pull those thoughts out of her mind and see her, the Y/n who never went through this at all. He wishes she wouldn't blame herself. He wished he could erase the memories, erase it all.

But Jaemin knew that it wasn't possible.

"Me and you," he looks at her, gaze deeper, more intense, "We're stronger than this." His voice comes deep, low and soothing, laced with such tenderness that Y/n hears her heartbeat resounding in her ears. "I won't let this ruin us anymore."

It felt like a promise. A dream.

Y/n swears she can't breathe, no amount of air enough for her to finally exhale. He was right, but somehow, it all seemed too good to be true. She found herself too caught up in everything that had passed, analysing each moment like something more was yet to come, like she'd missed something. Like a plot twist waiting to happen, a hidden truth waiting to stab her in the heart.

"I should have known better." Her words come out, barely a whisper, the ache in Jaemin's chest growing as her notices how her eyes begin to water.

"You didn't know Y/n." as much as Jaemin wants to admit his mistakes, express just how badly he wishes he'd just heard her out, listened to her side of the story just once, he can't, afraid that he'll break. And if he did, she would too.

"I just wish it never happened," she sighed, her voice shaking desperately, "i just wish you were there, I wish it wasn't us."

She almost doesn't make any sense, but that's what Jaemin was best at, understanding her when she barely understood herself."I know angel," he leaned forward, gently laying a kiss to her forehead, "but we made it, didn't we?"

Y/n gulps, nodding. Her throat feels dry despite wanting to scream out in agreement.

Jaemin's eyes overflow, with warmth, with adoration, with assurance.

They'd made it out. They always would.

"Then that's all that matters."

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[tusk-rumours]

top button ༉‧˚. — sam winchester x gn!reader

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word count: 0.9k

summary: that patch of chest at the top of sam’s flannel is just so kissable.

warnings: mentions of feet?? other than that none i don’t think

a/n: okay so this is something short bc my laptop is broken so i have to use my shitty old one and it's just a little (lot) awful :) so i haven’t really written in a while, but this is just something short i’m putting out! i’ll write about sam regardless lmao. and good news my laptops getting fixed in a few days, so prepare to be sick of me :) but anyway enjoy 🫶

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Considering all of Sam's beautiful features, you weren't sure why you had been so caught up on this one tiny detail for the past half hour. He was in one of his flannels as per usual, currently pacing the floor of the little motel room with the coroner's report in his hand. You'd been watching from where you sat with your legs stretched out on the bed, balancing the laptop on your thighs.

You guys had just recently caught on a case after reading about a few deaths in a rural town, where all the vics had several bones ripped from their bodies. What puzzled you guys was that it wasn't the same bones every time. It was like they were chosen at random.

Sam had that crease formed between his brows that he got when he was thinking, confused, or judgy, and you felt a strong desire to rub your thumb there, followed by a kiss. But right now you were more focused on that little patch of skin that was exposed at the top of his flannel. Whenever he wore button downs he always kept the top one undone, exposing a little bit of bare chest. It was so simple and normal, but you found it so lovely (and sexy).

You tried looking back at your screen, that was on some really sketchy website that you had to search the depths of the internet for, but you were just so distracted. You found this case interesting. It was really interesting. What the hell was so captivating about that tiny patch of skin? Of course you found every single thing about him hot, there was no doubt about that. But it wasn't even like it got you hot and bothered. It didn't make you wanna pounce him, it made you soft.

And so, you slide your laptop onto the bed, padding over. He's still captivated by the report.

"The only repeated bone is the humerus, which was two out of five vics. That is the most random bone eve— oh" He hadn't noticed at all that you'd come and snuck up on him, moving the paper so he can see your face.

You don't say a word, smiling sweetly before you lean up on your toes, steadying yourself with your hands gently on his waist, zeroing in on his chest and pressing a long, gentle kiss to that bit of exposed skin. Sam honestly doesn't know what to do. You've never done this before, and he can't figure out where it's come from. Obviously you’ve done many sweet things to him, but you’ve never kissed there before. Despite that, he lets you, because honestly he'd let you do anything you want with him.

You've almost argued with him about that several times before. Sam is adamant about getting your consent whenever you guys do something sexual or something new, but when it's you asking, it's always 'You don't have to ask. It's you, there's nothing I'll hate. I promise.' And you've let him know full well that that's ridiculous. He can be such a hypocrite sometimes.

He loves anything you do, and definitely likes you kissing him anywhere. There's really nowhere he wouldn't let you kiss. He'd probably get a bit uncomfortable if you wanted to kiss his feet, but if you really begged he'd let you. He'd just be pouty that he couldn't kiss you for the next few hours.

A hand comes up to gently card through your hair as you continue to press sweet butterfly kisses to the his bare chest that's peeking.

"...honey?" He questions after a few moments, his voice quiet and a little confused.

All you answer with is a hum, your gentle affection continuing.

This easily could've turned into something more, your fingers could've moved to the button below and undone it, then the next, and the next. But you didn't. The most your fingers did was trace along his waist, one hand creeping up to his shoulder, lightly grazing his collar.

The report drops to the floor with the sound of rustled paper, and his other arm wraps around your waist, his forearm pressing into your lower back.

"Bunny, you wanna tell me what you're doing?" He whispers, pressing his cheek to the top of your head.

"Giving you kisses." You mumble, like an obvious fact. His skin is warm under your lips, the soft cotton of his flannel tickling your jaw.

"...Yeah, but why there?" He says slowly.

"Because," A little kiss. "You keep this button undone and I love it."

That gets a little laugh out of him, his long fingers gently scratching your scalp.

"You like that?" He says, a little amused that you find such a random, regular detail important enough to appreciate. Despite his biased (and wrong) opinion, everything about him is important enough to appreciate.

All he gets in response is another little hum, your lips continuing long kisses to his chest, your work becoming a little messy now.

"You're ridiculous, bun." He says, as if he doesn't find things like kissing your fingers when your nail polish chips a worthy excuse to kiss them.

Your lips quirk just a little as you continue with your kisses, inhaling the familiar scent of him. His flannel smells like the laundry detergent from the laundromat, and his chest smells like the cologne you bought him for his last birthday.

You both stand like that for how long, neither of you could say. Sam swears he can feel his heart coating his shoes and making a puddle around his feet from how much it's melting. You always find ways to be so sweet to him, and he doesn't quite understand how you continue to torment his heart in the best way, but you do. And he doesn’t understand how he can torment yours either, and he likely won’t ever will. But as he watches you kiss him like this, he believes it just a little.

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a/n: also idk how people feel about the petname bunny but personally for some reason I really love it (especially from sam) so it will feature in some fics bc it does things to me idc

[bruhnze]

Personal Records - Chapter 7

Summary: AU about Lucy being a personal trainer and Ona being a realestate agant. Chapters before this one: Personal Records Masterlist

Warnings: hurt/comfort - fluff

Wordcount: 5k

She took a deep breath in and out, and looked at her phone. A couple of texts from Ona.

’Do you know how late you’ll be home’ – being the last one of the bunch.

She looked at the time, more then an hour later then she’d normally be home on a Wednesday.

Wednesday was the day Ona had chosen to work from home, a thing she’d been trying since a couple of months. It was nice, Ona could take the boys to and from school, and they’d eat at home during their lunchbreak. Lucy did this on Monday, but she didn’t work from home then, she just drove a bit more that day. But it was worth it to spend a little more time with her kids.

She gathered her bag, her coat, the thermos cup from this morning and the empty bottle of water and got out of the car.

Quietly she got inside, setting her shoes where they belonged, putting her coat where it belonged. She walked further into the house. The sight of Lucas sitting at the breakfast bar with her wife brought a smile to her face.

‘’Hi guys,’’ she said, setting her bag down to be dealt with later.

Ona turned around, and looked at Lucy curiously, tough she didn’t question her, ‘’hi love.’’

‘’Mommy!’’ Lucas flew off the stool, - a bit too quick for Lucy’s liking, as he almost hit his head to the counter, - and launched himself against her legs.

‘’Hello my clever boy, what are you and mamá working on?’’ she asked, putting her cup and bottle on the kitchen before picking Lucas up from the ground and giving him a peck on the cheek as she walked with him to where he had been sitting.

She set him back on the stool.

Lucas eagerly started explaining that they had been working on the homework he had gotten today. Lucy smiled as he showed her, she found it ridiculous that a four year old had homework already, but Lucas loved it. Oliver had homework, so he wanted it too. She was curious how long this excitement about doing schoolwork at home would stay, but they’d embrace it for how long it lasted.

‘’Ahhh, so you have traced all the letters of the alphabet?’’ Lucy asked.

Lucas turned around and nodded at her, ‘’only,’’ he looked as his fingers and wonkily held three up, ‘’ics, i grega and zeta are left, so not done yet.’’  

"Wow, it seems like you’ve been paying close attention in class," Lucy said as she leaned in to kiss the top of Lucas’s head. He had already turned back, busy repositioning the pencil in the grip he had learned at school.

Then she turned to Ona, and leaned in to give her a peck on the mouth.

It didn’t feel like Ona fully reciprocated, but Lucy guessed it was fair enough since she’d some explaining to do.

‘’Where is Ollie?’’ she asked.

Ona tilted her head, ‘’Ollie is playing at a friends house, they’ll bring him home tonight after dinner.. I texted you about that.’’

‘’Oh, right.. I hadn’t.. you’re right I just read that actually,’’ Lucy scratched her neck, walking back to the kitchen to put her cup in the dishwasher. It was one of Ona’s annoyances if she left her dirty dishes out. ‘’do we have plans for dinner or should I-

‘’Did you have a busy day at work?’’ Ona asked raising her eyebrows, she smiled at Lucy.

Lucy shook her head, ‘’no, I uh, left early today actually.’’ She said looking in to the dishwasher.

‘’Oh?’’ Ona laughed surprised, waiting for Lucy to explain further.

‘’Done!’’ Lucas said loudly, dropping her pencil down and holding the paper up.

‘’Perfect, you go and put that in your bag for tomorrow,’’ Ona said, helping him on to the ground. Now that Lucas wasn’t sitting on the high chair anymore she could move again too.

Lucy was pouring herself a glass of water as Ona came up to her. ‘’Are you okay?’’ she asked dryly.

Lucy looked up at her, she studied Ona’s face and smiled, ‘’I went to see a therapist.’’

‘’Oh?’’ Ona said surprised, tough this time it wasn’t with a laugh, ‘’did it.. uh.. why..’’ it stayed silent for a couple moments, ‘’I thought you hated those?’’

‘’I do,’’ Lucy nodded as a breathy laugh escaped her, ‘’but it was good, I uh, made the right decision in going I think and..’’ she turned slightly so her body was facing Ona’s, ‘’I think I’ll go a couple more times.’’

Ona nodded, ‘’well you know how I feel about talking to a professional.’’ She smiled as she took Lucy’s hand, ‘’I’m proud of you.’’

‘’Mhm,’’ Lucy brought Ona’s hand to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to her hand before pulling her in. ‘’sometimes I have to listen to you more.’’

Ona smirked, tilting her head, ‘’only sometimes?’’ she teased.

Lucy rolled her eyes, her hands moving down to pinch Ona’s sides, ‘’I love you.’’

Ona’s face screwed up as Lucy didn’t tease her back, ‘’will you tell me what it was about?’’

Lucy nodded.

‘’-I’m hungry’’ a whiny voice cut through their moment.

Lucy and Ona turned to look at Lucas. Lucy looked at her watch; almost seven thirty. ‘’it’s not dinner time yet.’’ She said sympathetically, ‘’but you can eat some fruit if you want?’’

Lucas shook his head, looking at his moms offended as he did so, his nose crinkling.

‘’We’ve got strawberry’s,’’ Ona joined in, ‘’or pineapple, you love pineapple’’

‘’I already had fruit.’’ Lucas crossed his arms, ‘’no fruita.’’

‘’What are you suggesting then?’’ Lucy chuckled.

Lucas looked up with a cheeky smile, ‘’ice cream.’’

Ona and Lucy looked at eachother trying not to laugh.

‘’ice cream?’’ Lucy repeated.

Lucas nodded as he walked to the fridge, ‘’is in here.’’ He pointed at the bottom door of the fridge. ‘’Només una bola.’’ He held up his hand with his other hand as he put his pointer finger up, ‘’una.. please.’’ He added as he saw no progress at his moms’ side.

Lucy and Ona shook their head, Lucas knew they stood no chance against him. He was just way too cute.

‘’What would you say about fruit and ice cream?’’ Lucy said, pretending to herself and Ona that they still had a bit of saying in all of this.

Lucas moved from one foot to another as he thought about it.

Ona and Lucy waited curiously, already amused by what his next move would be.

‘’But..’’ he started, then he looked up at his moms as he seemingly thought of something brilliant, ‘’maybe my belly would be too full for sopar.’’ He said, clearly smug with himself.

‘’Ohh, well maybe we should wait on dinner then?’’ Ona said.

Lucas shook his head, ready to explain himself. ‘’No, mamá.’’ He looked down, ‘’fruit is big, and ice cream is only a small space.. so I can eat dinner and ice cream.’’

Lucy laughed, ‘’do we even have ice cream?’’

‘’Yes,’’ both Ona and Lucas said at the same time.

Lucy didn’t know why, but it brought a warm feeling to her heart.

‘’Okay,’’ she walked up to the fridge, ‘’so what you’re saying is you just need a small scoop of ice cream and then you will eat all of your dinner tonight too.’’

Lucas stepped aside for his mom to get the ice cream.

‘’Not very small,’’ he said, looking at the fridge drawer, ‘’this one.’’ He pointed at the ice cream Ona loved. Gelat de Màlaga. Horrible choice, she couldn’t understand why anyone would ever voluntarily eat it, let alone it was anyone's favorite.. but here Ona and Lucas where. Preferring it every time.

But instead of the usual disgust by the choice, she smiled as got the tub out. The boys both had stuff in common with Ona.. she thought back to what the therapist and her had discussed.

Ona had set a small bowl and a plastic spoon on the counter, and Lucy scooped in some ice cream for him.

‘’Not too much, he already had a merienda too.’’ Ona said.

‘’Ohh, what did he have?’’ Lucy said, closing the lid and giving Ona the spoon she’d scooped the ice cream with, having left a bunch on it on purpose.

‘’Bocadillo,’’ Ona hummed as she took the spoonful in her mouth, ‘’hmm.’’

‘’Here you go, silly,’’ Lucy said, giving the bowl to her son, ‘’eating ice cream in the winter.’’ She shook her head laughingly.

‘’autumn.’’ Lucas said as he eagerly took the bowl.

Lucy shook her head at his know-it-all attitude. Though she didn’t say anything as he was correct, after all. ‘’Careful with eating that,’’ she called after him, ‘’try not to spill.’’

She placed the tub of ice cream back in the freezer and turned back to Ona, ‘’you bunch are crazy.’’

‘’Is this about the ice cream flavor again or the fact we’re eating it in pre-winter.’’ Ona joked.

‘’Yes.’’ Lucy joked back.

‘’For dinner I was thinking pasta.’’ Ona said.

Lucy nodded, ‘’perfect, shall I cook or do you want to do it?’’

‘’It’s still early,’’ Ona said gently as she closed the gap between them, ‘’do you maybe want to talk first?’’

Lucy glanced over at Lucas, who was sitting on his knees at the coffee table. ‘’I’ll put the tv on for him.’’

Ona nodded.

Lucy plopped down on the couch next to Ona, in the main living room. Though they were still within view of Lucas, they were far enough to be out of earshot.

‘’Come here.’’ Lucy said, opening her arms up to Ona as she shifted.

Ona went to lay on top of her, shifting until they where both comfy.

‘’Hmm,’’ Lucy hummed as she closed her arms tightly around Ona, taking a second to enjoy the embrace, ‘’I’ve missed you today.’’

Ona stayed silent, though her thumb soothed the skin of Lucy’s side below her shirt in a sign of compassion.

‘’So I, uh, I made an appointment with.. a psychologist..’’ Lucy started, looking up at the ceiling, ‘’I made the appointment after you.. after we..’’

‘’You don’t have to say it,’’ Ona whispered against Lucy’s chest, ‘’I know.’’

‘’I should be able to say it,’’ Lucy said unsteadily, ‘’I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to talk about my feelings, sorry.’’

Ona pulled her hand from under Lucy's shirt, shifted upwards, and gently cupped Lucy's face, meeting her gaze. "You don’t have to apologize for trying your best," she said softly.

‘’Well, what you asked.. uhm.. mentioned,’’ Lucy bit her lip as she looked away from Ona, ‘’I want to start by saying that I’m all for it, I’m very exited and ever since you mentioned it I’ve been imagining our family with.. another.. little one.’’

Ona nodded, stroking Lucy’s cheek with her thumb. Brushing the tears away. 

‘’I just felt this.. uhm.. I uh..’’ Lucy licked her lips frustrated, she remembered what she’d discussed with the therapist. ‘’There’s two things.. I-‘’ she looked back at Ona, meeting her eyes. Her sympathetic eyes. That beautiful face. Her wife. 

‘’I love you so much, you must understand that,’’ she said.

Ona nodded.

‘’And it will sound selfish and there’s so many layer to it… but these are feelings that I’m having too.. and I need to talk about it.’’ Lucy said thoughtfully.

Ona leaned in to kiss Lucy’s cheek, ‘’you’re so strong my love,’’ she whispered, ‘’your feelings are valid no matter how selfish they seem.. it’s..’’ her eyes started to water too, ‘’we… you.. have experienced a loss... it was.. it is a grieving process.. Luce, I-‘’ she bit her lip.. what more could she add to this.

Lucy shifted, guiding them to lie on their sides, still holding each other. But now, facing one another, it felt even more intimate. She cupped Ona’s cheek and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

They looked in to each others eyes as they let the silence linger.

‘’Two things,’’ Lucy whispered after her breath had steadied again.

Ona nodded.

‘’the realization of the fact that I’ll.. nev-,‘’ a whimper cut through her words, it felt as if there was a lump in her throat making it hard to talk.

‘’I know,’’ Ona whispered, shifting to tuck Lucy’s head into her neck, she rubbed Lucy’s shocking shoulders, ‘’I know,’’ she repeated, ‘’let it all out mi vida. You don’t have to say it, I know.’’

Lucy sobbed quietly into the nape of Ona’s neck, thick tears leaving her eyes as her mouth twitched in grief.

It took a couple of moments before she could calm down again, she took a couple of deep breaths. ‘’The sEconD,’’ she cleared her throat against Ona and sniffed her nose. God, if it wasn’t for the fact they’d been married this long she’d be worried about being perceived as gross. Though, Ona would probably wave that off immediately, especially now. There was no other human being on the planet that Lucy felt more comfortable around then Ona. But she liked to stay a bit attractive to her.

‘’The second,’’ Lucy tried again, whispering softly, ‘’the second thing is… that… the baby..’’ she swallowed hard, ‘’would be yours… and you’d carry it.. and it’d be a half sibling to it’s brothers.. and’’ she leaned back to meet Ona’s gaze, ‘’you have such a good bond with-.. you.. you.’’

Ona shook her head softly, tears rolling down her cheeks.

‘’It doesn’t have to be m-‘’

Lucy shook her head, ‘’it should be, I want it to be.’’

‘’We still have y-‘’

Lucy took Ona’s face in her hands carefully, ‘’do you have a good connection with our sons? Did you.. have you ever felt like..?’’ she didn’t know how to even finish that question.

Ona smiled at her, ‘’having a good bond with them isn’t only about sharing blood with them.. dna.’’ She said softly, ‘’sure I have thought about it, what if something happens between us and..’’ Lucy’s face screwed up at those words, making Ona chuckle, ‘’what if,’’ she repeated, though she couldn’t finish what she wanted to say.

Lucy crinkled her nose, interrupting her, ‘’won’t happen.’’

"See, this is why it doesn't matter whether they're your blood or mine," Ona said, gently tracing Lucy's nose. "I love our little versions of you. I see so much of you in them... and all it fills me with is love, because I love you more than anything."

Tears welled up in Lucy’s eyes again. God, this had to be one of the most romantic things Ona had said to her. Lucy leaned in to kiss her.

‘’Yuck,’’ Lucy said in disgust, pulling away just as quickly as she’d leaned in. ‘’really don’t know how you got him hooked on that god awful ice cream.’’

Ona could only chuckle, ‘’see, you can learn the kid everything you want, not everything is passed through genetics.’’

‘’Wise woman,’’ Lucy smiled, leaning in again.

‘’Thought you hated the taste,’’ Ona murmured against her lips.

‘’Love you more then I hate gelat de Màlaga.’’ Lucy murmured back.

Ona chuckled between kisses, ‘’so romantic.’’

After breaking the kiss they stayed there for a while, just holding eachother. Both digesting the conversation they’d just had.

After a while the sound of small feet pattering against the floor caught Lucy’s attention, her ears perking for any signs of things being not alright with Lucas, but she assumed it was just him coming to ask something.

Sure enough, seconds later, Lucas stood next to the couch.

Lucy and Ona shifted to be able to look at him, though they kept cuddling.

‘’The video ended,’’ Lucas announced.

‘’Oh,’’ Lucy shifted, trying to get her phone from her pocket, ‘’should I put something new on the tv?’’

Lucas leaned in to look at the Netflix screen on his moms phone.

‘’This one?’’ Lucy asked, hovering above a series about cars that she knew Lucas had watched before.

Lucas looked at her, though he seemed to think about something else then what he was going to be watching next.

‘’Sad?’’ he asked, his eyes moving from his one mom to his other.

Lucy smiled and reached to the coffee table to lie her phone down, ‘’mamá and I where a little bit sad, yes.’’ She said, taking the boys’ small hand in hers.

‘’Nightmare?’’ he asked sympathetically, ‘’when you have a nightmare you sometimes have to cry because you are scared and then you get sad.’’

Ona smiled at her wife as they turned to look at eachother.

‘’Yes, that’s right,’’ Ona said, ‘’if you have a scary nightmare sometimes you have to cry, but mom and I didn’t have a nightmare.’’ She said softly.

The boy tilted his head, thinking for a couple of seconds before he smiled. ‘’hug?’’

Lucy grinned, relieved at how easily they seemed to have gotten through this, and lifted Lucas to lie between them.

"n abrazo hace todo mejor," Lucas said, wrapping his arms around both his moms' heads.

Lucy pulled him close, wrapping her arm around both her son and wife. "Mhm, a hug makes everything better," she repeated, smiling.

…

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed smoothly. Lucy made pasta for dinner, and Lucas sat beside her and Ona, chattering animatedly about his latest obsession. Oliver returned from his playdate in high spirits, just as they were finishing eating.

Later, the four of them went for a walk with Nela, their dog. The boys raced ahead, their laughter echoing through the quiet estate as Nela tugged at her leash, eager to join them.

Bedtime had become routine—perfect, even—for the past couple of weeks. Lucy read Oliver a story while Ona tucked Lucas in, listening as he rambled on about whatever crossed his mind. Lucy cherished this balance, the way they alternated spending bedtime with the boys. They’d switch kids each night if they were both home, a rhythm that felt just right. Lucy hoped Oliver wouldn’t start wanting to stay up later than Lucas anytime soon; things were good as they were.

Once the boys were asleep, Lucy headed downstairs. Ona had insisted she take a shower, and Lucy had already showered at work, so she used the time to tidy up the living room and kitchen.

When Ona still hadn’t come down, Lucy lit a few candles, set out snacks—ice cream for Ona, chocolate chip cookies for herself (though she knew Ona would steal a few)—and made two steaming cups of tea. She plopped onto the couch and paused the TV on the series they were currently into, waiting for Ona to join her.

A few moments later, Ona appeared, her robe tied loosely at the waist, her damp hair brushing her shoulders.

Lucy glanced up, smiling as Ona walked into the room. “Good shower?”

Ona nodded, her gaze sweeping over the room.

“You cleaned up,” she said, her lips curving into a smile as she circled the couch and settled herself comfortably on Lucy’s lap.

Lucy nodded, wrapping her arms around Ona’s waist. “And I got snacks out, made you a cuppa.”

“Mmm, you’re the best,” Ona murmured, burying her face in Lucy’s neck.

Lucy chuckled, her hand moving to soothe Ona’s back through the fluffy fabric of her robe. “Tired?”

“Mhm,” Ona hummed. “You?”

“A bit,” Lucy admitted thoughtfully. “But it was a good day.”

Ona sighed softly, leaning further into Lucy’s shoulder. “Yeah, I think so too.”

Lucy ran her fingers gently through Ona’s damp hair. “..and? ..are we doing it?”

Ona tilted her head to look up at her wife. “It’s a big decision.”

“It is,” Lucy agreed, her voice steady but thoughtful. “But I keep thinking about all the good things. Like, we’ve got that spare room upstairs, it’s just a playroom now.. it could be a nursery easily. The cars all have a empty seat left if we put Nela in the back like she’s supposed to be. We wouldn’t even need to upgrade anything major.”

Ona chuckled. “You’re already thinking logistics.”

“Of course… but not just that.” Lucy’s tone softened, and her hands settled on Ona’s waist. “I was also thinking about how amazing Ollie and Lucas would be with a little sibling. I can already see Oliver being the protective big brother and Lucas wanting to teach it everything he knows.”

Ona’s expression softened, her eyes glimmering. “They’d be good with a baby.”

“They would,” Lucy said confidently. “And… there’s always the chance it could be a girl.”

Ona’s cheeks turned pink, and she looked away, biting her lip. “That’s not the most important thing, you know.”

“I know,” Lucy said gently. “I just… I know you’ve always dreamed of a daughter. But of course, it being healthy is what matters the most.”

Ona nodded. “Mhm. But yeah, it would be cute… she’d have two big brothers.”

Lucy smiled, leaning in to kiss Ona’s temple, her voice dropping to a soft murmur. “You know what else I thought about?”

“What?” Ona asked, her lips curving faintly in anticipation.

“You,” Lucy said simply. “How you look when you’re pregnant. You’re always beautiful, Ona, but when you were carrying the boys…” She trailed off, her gaze warm and adoring. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you… the glow, your cute baby bump.”

Ona buried her face in Lucy’s neck, her ears turning red. Lucy smiled at her reaction. Ona had been the same way during her pregnancies—always shy about the compliments. Lucy found it adorable.

“You’re just saying that,” Ona mumbled.

“I’m really not,” Lucy insisted, her hands resting on Ona’s hips. “I mean it. You’re stunning. I think about you like that sometimes, and I can’t help but want to see it again.”

Ona peeked up at her through her lashes, her lips quirking. “Weirdo.”

Lucy huffed. “How am I weird?”

“You have a thing for pregnant ladies,” Ona teased, pulling a face.

“No,” Lucy shook her head quickly, “I have a thing for you.” She smiled lopsidedly. “It’s kind of a problem.”

“Why is it a problem? You’ve been saying this for the last eight years,” Ona laughed, reaching up to trace Lucy’s jaw with her thumb. “..but you make a convincing case, you know.”

“I try,” Lucy teased lightly, her expression earnest. “no.. I’m serious, the more I think about it, the more I want this, Ona. I really do. But only if you do too. We’re in such a good place right now. The boys are happy, we’ve got our routines down, and the business is doing well… I just feel like it’s the perfect moment.”

Ona’s eyes searched Lucy’s face, her resolve softening. “You really think it’s a good idea?”

“I do,” Lucy said with quiet certainty.

Ona smiled and leaned in to press a tender kiss to Lucy’s lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Lucy whispered, pulling Ona closer.

After a moment of silence, Ona spoke again. “But the room is the boys’ playroom. How would we explain—”

“Your home office,” Lucy smirked. “We can use that one.”

Ona frowned. “No. First of all, my office is on the ground floor, and I need that space.”

“We’ll make that the playroom and turn the playroom into the bedroom,” Lucy joked.

“Maybe we’ll make your gym the playroom,” Ona teased.

Lucy scrunched her nose. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Ona shrugged. “It’s the least essential room we have.”

“The boys barely play in the playroom anyway,” Lucy countered.

Ona and Lucy exchanged a look, realizing the same thing at the same time.

“How do you think they’ll react?” Ona asked.

“When do we even tell them?” Lucy wondered aloud.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, do we consult them? Tell them we’re thinking about it and see if they’re happy with a family expansion? Or do we keep it a secret until it’s almost here? I think the latter cus they can be very impatient… and there’s a big chance they’d tell people…”

Ona chuckled. “You keep saying ‘it.’”

“Well, we don’t know what it’s going to be. And ‘they’ sounds so plural.”

“What if it doesn’t… work out?” Ona asked carefully, her voice hesitant.

Lucy took Ona’s hands. “Are you worried there’ll be troubles?”

Ona shrugged. “It’s been a few years… maybe.”

Lucy smiled, nudging her wife. “Remember what the doctor said?’’ she put on her impression of the doctor ‘’‘Congratulations you two! It’s rare to see success on the very first attempt’,’’ she laughed, ‘’how did he say it again?.. ‘physiologically speaking.. it’s a beautiful uterus.’”

Ona smiled faintly, though she couldn’t laugh—knowing how painful the subject was for Lucy.

“It’s okay, babe, you can laugh,” Lucy reassured her. “Just because mine is a mess doesn’t mean I’m not happy that yours is perfect.”

“Luce…” Ona whispered.

Lucy pulled back to meet her gaze, tilting her head, ‘’it’s okay, really.’’

Ona cupped her face and looked into her eyes intensely.

‘’It’ll go well,’’ she put her hands over Ona’s, ‘’I think we can do this.’’

Ona nodded, ‘’I think so too.’’ She said softly, leaning in to kiss her.

Lucy’s hands travelled to cup the back of Ona’s head, pulling her closer, before heading south, kneading Ona’s hips below her bathrobe, dragging her hips against her own.

‘’I actually cant wait’’ Lucy breathed between kisses, wrapping her arms around Ona grabbing her ass.

Ona hummed in to the kiss, ‘’wait for what?’’ she asked, her fingers threading through Lucy’s hair in the back of her neck.

Lucy broke the kiss as she pulled back, ‘’for you to start showing.’’

Ona rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “Let’s make an appointment first before you start with this.”

“Mhm, we will do it tomorrow,” Lucy said.

Ona bit her lip as she took in Lucy’s pupils, which seemed impossibly dilated. Lucy was brimming with an excitement Ona didn’t completely understand. She didn’t understand the fascination, though she knew—because she had told her many times—that her wife adored how she looked when she was pregnant.

“But you’re always beautiful,” Lucy added, as if she could read Ona’s thoughts.

Ona smiled and leaned in to give Lucy a quick peck. “What’s our agenda like for tomorrow?”

Lucy considered this, her brows furrowing slightly. “Hmm… I have work, you have work. You’ll drop the boys off at school, and I’ll pick them up. I think that’s it.”

Ona nodded. “Want to have lunch together? Do you have time for that?”

Lucy shrugged. “I think so. I’d have to check.”

Ona grabbed the phone lying beside them on the couch. As she unlocked it, the first thing to pop up was a collection of photos—her pregnancy photoshoot from years ago. While not fully nude, the images were intimate, showing her in barely-there attire.

She raised an eyebrow and glanced at Lucy, who didn’t even attempt to look sheepish.

Instead, Lucy grinned back at her, unapologetically.

Shaking her head with a blush and a small eyeroll, Ona navigated to Lucy’s calendar. Spotting a gap around two in the afternoon, she added an appointment ‘Lunch with Ona’.

“It’s a date,” Lucy said, her smile widening. “We haven’t done that in a while—having lunch together during work.”

“Mhm true,” Ona agreed, nodding. “Can’t wait.”

Lucy leaned in for another kiss, her voice soft and thoughtful. “You know, I’ve been thinking… what do you think about taking a longer maternity leave this time? Not working right up until you physically can’t anymore, but taking a proper few months off instead?”

Ona shook her head with an amused smile. “Is this secretly another one of your plans to get me to work less?”

“Eh,” Lucy laughed, shrugging. “You’re the one who brought it up, not me.”

“Hmmm,” Ona hummed, her tone mock-disapproving. “We’ll see when it’s time…”

---

Who says yes to happiness and time skip to 🤰 for the next chapter? 🙃

Personal Records Masterlist

[universaln0b0dy]

The chill new friend

p.o.v there is a new human student at R.A.D, but instead of trying to replace you they just make you loose your mind. (Accidentally)

(This is just a joke oneshot thingy cooked up at 12.00 pm, like one does. Also the new person is a female oc, with the name Diova. If you want you can change that, but I didn't want to just use a place holder like Notmc or something along the lines.)

The program had been widened to another student. Which isn't surprising because it did so well, you just didn't want to guide someone around. Okay no, you wanted to guide them around if they turned out to be nice.

Well, the day arrived and the new student -also chosen at random- was teleported to where you once stood.

Diavolo welcomed her, introduced her to the brothers and you, before you guy's said your names et cetera, everything went fairly well. Or so you thought.

DiovA looked at everyone held up her finger, excusing herself with the words: "Please give me a minute." Before fainting. All in all not that surprising, but you had the feeling that this could mean trouble.

Well it didn't. The new student was so quiet you occasionally forgot she existed and so did everyone else. You felt bad but it seemed like Diova had a habit of disappearing without a trace.

After the third week of getting spooked when she came out of her room you decided that you would start to hang out with her, maybe to ease your own mind. You've been appointed her guide after all.

Turns out that girl is introverted, much more than Levi. She didn't talk and just existed in her own space. But that lead to some very funny situations:

Satan:

This what has been engraved into your memory as "the cat-cident". It's no secret that he loved cats, so every time he came across a stray he would look to the side once or twice before petting it.

Well, one particular cat was a regular with Satan, they even had a set time when he would give them food. One day you were dragging Diova by the sleeve to make sure you wouldn't loose her again in the crowd. (You never actually lost her, she just went *poof*)

Along the way you came across Satan and the both of you started talking. Until he looked for the cat and you at the exchange student. Both were gone. And this time not in the "ohoho I didn't see you but you were right behind me" type of way, no, both ceased to exist.

That caused you to fall into mild crisis, because you lost a student. In hell. Not just any place. Fucking hell. Great place to loose a person in.

Okay, you didn't loose her, she walked away but you felt like you did. Satan wasn't that bothered by the cats disappearance, cats tend to so that. But he also understood your panic about the exchange student, so the both of you started searching.

For two hours.

You were hyperventilating and on the verge of tears, probably a mild over reaction, but it was one of the most frustrating searches ever. You and Satan had turned over every single stone and asked every person in sight if they had seen her only to be met with a very confused: "Who are you talking about?" Even classmates couldn't remember her.

Satan rubbed soothing circles on your back, noticing your distress. "Don't worry Mc, we will find her." You sighed heavily, realising you probably needed more help with the search. You leaned onto/against Satan for support, grumbling out some frustration.

"I feel like I completely failed as a guide." You mutter, before noticing that Satan shook his head. "Not at all, you did your best and it's not your fault she just left." He nudged you softly. "I would be a lot less patient with someone who is constantly disappearing."

You chuckle/laugh half hearted. "I wouldn't doubt it, you can be a ticking time bomb." It was funny to see how this joke would have had dire consequences at the start of your exchange, but now? With all these adventures Satan would laugh with you.

"I guess we better call Lucifer?" You ask and Satan reluctantly agrees. Before a rather quiet voice asks: "Why? Did something happened?"

You turned around, and there she stood, the stay cat sitting next to her purring contentedly.

A bunch of emotions wash over you, one one end relieve on the other anger. "Where have you been? We searched all other the campus for you!" You ask like a parent that caught their child sneaking out.

Diova looks a bit confused. "I noticed that the cat had some dirt on it's fur so I cleaned that up, only to realise that I forgot something in the alchemy lab. I went to grab it and got back here only to notice both of you were gone." She knits her brow. "But you should now about this, I wrote you a message."

You look at your device only to realise to realise that you forgot to turn on the connection. "And all this time I thought you turned into air!" You cry out half laughing half crying.

Now that it was reconnected to the hell equivalent of wife you saw a bunch of different messages.... from Lucifer.

That would be a fun evening.

The second incident was with Beel.

You had again been on refrigerator protection duty, forced to turn Beel away at his attempts of sneaking food from the kitchen. (We ignore the sandwich you'd smuggle here and there).

Beel came, at about 9pm like clockwork and you both reminisced about life for a few minutes. That's just how it was, like it's own personal routine. If there hadn't been the ghost in the dark hallway.

At first you only noticed it fleeting, it was running around the hallway. It could have been Mammon running away from Lucifer, but then he would have run to you... right? Or did he have a better hiding spot?

You were happy with it until the figure ran by a second time. This time even Beel noticed it and he immediately knew that he didn't know who that was, or what it was.

Now the situation got spooky. For you at least. Beel looked pretty calm. Though it could also just be his resting unexpressive face. You and him decide to check out the noise to see what's going on.

There is indeed a figure running around, only ever stopping shortly, before disappearing around a corner and then showing up again. Something swishing after them like a Cape.

It was almost as if it was a ghost floating around. But that couldn't be was it an intruder? That was unlikely, but still an unconscious doubt settled in your mind.

And then it came back, halting infront of you and Beel. He protectivly extends his arm and you grab it, as if you could throw it should whatever attack.

But it wasn't an whatever. It was Diova, in hoodie and baggy trousers, a blanket over her head. She was holding onto some objects and looked almost a bit embarrassed.

"Oh my Diavolo, you scared me! What were you doing?" You ask confused and she just holds up some beads.

"What are those?" You ask a bit confused. She shuffles her feet looking to the floor like a kid that was just caught breaking a vase. "I tried a summoning spell on my bracelet..." She sighed heavily.

"It broke and the beads teleported into the dining room."

You nod following along, before looking at the beads. Didn't you make a similar mistake once? "Let me guess now the beads must be transported separately or they just disappear again?"

Well the ghost problem was also just a misunderstanding it seemed. You and Beel helped her transport the beads to her room later on and you explained to her what went wrong when she casted the spell.

......

You and her sit in your room. You both got along quite well after a while and you noticed that she didn't disappear into thin air like you thought at first. She was just really quiet and timid in everything she did.

She sits on one of the many chairs in the room you had thanks to the suprise visits of the brothers, playing with her now fixed bracelet. Before looking at you.

"Thank you for being my friend, Mc." You look at her, that sounded strange. Her tone, not the words. "You don't need to thank me for that, but why are you saying that? It sounds like you will go away some time soon?" You ask a bit confused.

Diova smiled. "Did you know the origin of my name?" She asks, dodging your question. Your a bit taken off guard but say what you assume.

She shakes her head. "Its a great idea, but it's actually Avoid, just backwards." She looks a bit sad. "It's been pretty prophetic for me. I've always been the odd one out, no matter where." She shrugged. "So people tend to avoid me."

She flashes you a smile. "I thought it would be the same here.... but you made an effort befriending me." She looks back to the floor. "It's kinda sad to think that all of this is just a dream. "

Her words knock the wind out of your lungs. "What do you mean? Are you feeling okay?" But Diova just smiles sadly giving you a tight hug. You hadn't even noticed she stood up from the chair.

"Thank you for our friendship, even if you are waking up now." The girl mumbled and then you hear it. Your alarm ringing off in the distance.

......

You shoot awake and can't help but stare at the wall for a while. It's as if your brain can't grasp the fact that Diova didn't exist.

No, you wouldn't believe this.

You stand up and look around for pictures. But there are none. You look at the calendar to check the date only to realise... in the dream there hadn't been a consistent date. Only what you assumed was one.

It took an hour and a half for you to grasp that you had dreamt up a whole new friend. She had felt, looked and sounded so real! But she wasn't.

You hear a knock on your door. It Mammon. Before he can say anything you just pull him into a hug. You needed one Oh so desperately, because the dream hurt. And what hurt even more was that already, you were starting to forget.

Forget a fellow friend.....

[sweetbillwriting]

The Blackened Branches

THREE

Description: Hayden and Eric have a long history together but also secrets, hidden under blackened branches.

Characters: AU Eric from The Crow played by Bill Skarsgård. The story is completely it's own thing.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

I dragged my fingers through his hair. The blonde buzzcut had grown out a bit, and dark roots were almost as long as the platinum lengths. His eyes were closed while the sunshine was on his face, and he smiled a little after having shared his confession. I looked down at Eric, whose head was in my lap, when I stopped playing with his hair because of the surprise.

“You did what?”

“I told your father about us.”

Eric opened his eyes and smiled brightly. We had been a couple for three months and only met in secrecy, but now he had chosen to share it with his boss, who was also my dad.

“He wondered why I hurried out of work so often, so I told him. That you're my girlfriend.”

It was so sweet hearing him call me that, but it was a totally other thing that he said it to my father.

“And what did he say?” I said with worry. Eric turned so he lay with his nose toward my belly but continued to look up at me.

“He just said I must be nice to you.”

I looked at him skeptically, and it made him laugh.

“It's true! I think he knows he can trust me. I'm not a bad guy.”

I smiled a little even if I thought about his tattoos, the smoking, and the partying. Then I also looked at the bruises on his neck. It was obvious he had tried to hide it with a high-necked hoodie, but I don't think anyone could miss the five blue fingerprints sitting like a pearl necklace around his pale neck.

“We will see if he says the same thing to me.” Eric just smiled excitedly. I knew he was happy about earning someone's approval. Adults weren't really his crowd, and parents, teachers, and even people just passing by him had negative thoughts about him, even if he was just shy and kind. They judged him for his looks but also the bruises. Just because he looked the way he did, they believed he was the abuser, but in reality, he took so many beatings from his stepfather it was a wonder he had never gotten hurt more than he had.

“Maybe you can come to dinner tonight then?” I said with a smile and continued to drag my fingers through his hair.

“Seriously?” He smiled even bigger. I thought it was probably the food he became most excited about, but I was happy anyway. Finally, my boyfriend could be a part of my normal life.

×××

On Saturdays the table was often set for five people: my parents, me, my brother Illowa, and his girlfriend. They spent the most time at our place because we lived bigger but also because our parents were more liberal than hers. That night I had gotten the assignment to set the table, but I set it for six people. I hoped my parents would be just as open to welcoming Eric, my boyfriend, as Illowa's girlfriend. I had never set the table with so much feeling. I brought flowers from the garden, took the black napkins, and matched them with the gold cutlery and the squared plates. It looked really pretty, and I hoped Eric liked it, even if I doubted sixteen-year-old boys thought about table decorations.

“What are you smiling about?” Teased my mom when she came into the dining room. I smiled to myself and looked at the table to give my mom a hint without me saying anything. She looked at the table with a smile, then she looked at me excited but also a bit nervously. I was only fourteen, but my parents always tried to be supportive.

“Oh? Is it Louise?” She asked, looking at me with teasing curiosity.

“No,” I said with a giggle and fixed my short skirt.

“Is it a boy?”

I smirked to myself, and it made my mom laugh. She leaned against a chair close to me and dragged a comforting hand over my arm.

“Tell me, honey!”

“His name is Eric… He works in Dad's store.”

My mom looked a bit confused and furrowed her brows with a smile.

“Does someone work with your father?”

“Yes. Eric.”

My mom's smile slowly fell, and she started to look worried. I didn't know how much she knew, but I started to wonder if she actually knew anything about Eric.

“Matt?” She exclaimed with her head turned to the kitchen.

“Yeah?” Answered my dad through the sounds of chopping.

“Could you come for a moment?”

My dad peeked into the dining room. He had a paisley-patterned apron over his Inka-patterned sweater. The pattern and colors clashed with each other and with his beard and messy hair, it made him look quite chaotic.

“Do you have a boy working with you in the shop?”

My dad swallowed hard and looked at my mom with worry. He acted often like he was afraid of her, and she had many opinions about his work.

“Yeah, it's like a charity thing…” He turned to me with lifted eyebrows. “But he also works so well.” He moved nervously from side to side, and I wondered if he had started to become afraid of me too.

“Hayden says she’s dating him. How old is he? Why is it a charity thing? I hope you haven't let this happen without me knowing about it!” My mom looked tensely at him, and my dad laughed nervously.

“He's sixteen, so just a baby. And he told me today!”

“He told you? How close are you to this kid?” She crossed her arms.

“I think he just wanted to be honest.”

Now my mom turned to me with a pointed gaze. I knew what she meant, and I rolled my eyes.

“I knew you would react like this!”

“I can't understand you guys! So many secrets! Tell me about him now! Should I be worried? A charity case?”

“He's not a charity case!” I said, upset, and looked at my dad, who tried to flee to the kitchen. “Tell her dad! He's amazing at music!”

My dad looked towards the kitchen and wiped his hands on the apron. Something told me it was sweat he wiped off, not the juice from the vegetables.

“He is really talented. But…” He sighed and looked at my mom, defeated. “You remember that boy a few years ago? Stealing your gold bracelet? It's him. He has a really rough—"

“You have hired a thief??” My mom raised her voice and made my dad shrink in his place.

“And letting our daughter date him?” Both my dad and I tried to protest, but my mom gave us that look, that look when we knew we wouldn't win an argument with her.

“He will not come into our house again. And you will not see him anymore; he's a criminal, and theft is just the first crime; he will do more. Trust me!”

“But mom!” I protested in frustration. I looked towards my dad, but he looked away when I watched him pleadingly.

“Your mom is probably right… He stole from us. That's not a boy you should be around,” he mumbled and looked at my mom. She nodded, pleased, and gave me a strict glare. She didn't need a reaction before she started to put away the sixth plate and glass.

×××

I cried myself to sleep that night while reading Eric's answers to my message over and over. I had lied to him and said my mom wasn't prepared with enough food for him to come. He wrote he didn't need to eat, that he could come later, but I lied again, saying my mom was tired. As always, he was sweet about it all. Writing, he can come whenever they have time. He was a much better person than my mom, but just because he had been stealing as a thirteen-year-old, she had the right on her side to judge him. It wasn't fair.

That Monday I went to the shop after school to see him. I was afraid my dad would have fired him just because of Mom, but Eric hadn't written anything about it. I knew my dad had much more empathy than my mom, and if I thought about it, I wasn't surprised he had given Eric the benefit of the doubt.

“No, like he just poured up two shots for me and congratulated me for looking so young!” Exclaimed Eric with a laugh when I came into the shop. I couldn't see either him or my father, but I heard my father laugh from the same direction I had heard Eric.

“Seriously? That's fucked up,” said my dad with a voice I couldn't really recognize. I hadn't even heard him say ‘fuck’ before, and I stayed by the door to be able to eavesdrop on them.

“Did it hurt?”

“It fucking did!” Eric laughed. “I didn't think my earlier ones had hurt that much, but this one hurt like hell, and I could, like, feel the muscles cramping.”

“No? Shit. You know, I thought about a tattoo when I was younger.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I wanted Jimi Hendrix on my upper arm.”

“That would have been sick! But portraits rarely are good. And fucking expensive. Would you like to do anything now? If your wife lets you?”

I could hear in Eric's voice that he joked with my dad, and he laughed.

“Maybe a cool lyric? On my forearm.”

“I can give you the number of the guy doing mine. After you have begged your wife for permission.”

“Fuck you! One day you will also be married and want to get laid.”

I closed the door sharply behind me. It had been interesting to hear my dad acting like he was friends with Eric, like he was younger than he was, but I really didn't want to hear about his and my mom's sex life. I needed the conversation to stop.

My dad came out between the shelves and smiled at me. He had a weird expression on his face, and I couldn't say if it was worry I had heard or if he was just pleased with having some secret man-to-man talk with a cool teenage boy.

“Eric? I think you have a customer,” said my dad teasingly but smiled friendly to me. I smiled back thankfully and turned my eyes towards the shelves my dad had walked out from. Eric approached me with a big smile and gave me a hug. He probably didn't want to kiss me in front of my dad even if my dad had confessed about his sex life to him.

“Hey, how is the tattoo?” I said with a giggle. I knew he had gotten it done yesterday night at some guy’s place. I thought he should go to a real licensed tattoo artist, but he couldn't afford it. Eric pulled up his pant leg, showing his tattoo on his calf. It was a roaring lion, but it had so much black it was hard to see what it was.

“Cool,” I said and smiled at him. He smiled back brightly, obviously so pleased with having more ink that he didn't see how poorly done it was.

“I will just gather my stuff, and then we can go,” he said and turned to the staff room that was behind the desk. I looked at my father, who smiled brightly at Eric as he gave him a fist bump when he walked by. It was quite pathetic.

Both my dad and I looked at Eric from behind, mesmerized by his charisma, but we got just as uncomfortable when Eric pulled off his hoodie. His t-shirt got stuck in it and his black-and-blue bruised back was on display. Eric rarely let me look at his body without clothes, and I knew it was because of how beaten up he was. I looked at my father, who looked away with the same amount of discomfort as we had felt mesmerized before, but I could also hear their conversation in my head. He really liked Eric, so why did he let him put up with this abuse?

“You know that his stepfather is beating him.” I looked at him seriously and spoke with a low voice so Eric wouldn't hear. My dad sighed and scratched his beard. He didn't look at me; instead, he looked at the laptop in front of him.

“You're an adult. Shouldn't you protect him? He's just sixteen!”

My dad swallowed hard and massaged his neck.

“What do you mean I should do? Beat the guy up? I've seen how he looks. He would crush me!”

“So instead you let him crush a teenager?”

My dad looked at me but shut his eyes fast. It was obvious he was ashamed for not doing anything.

“He's covered in bruises all the time! And those scars on his face, I don't think they ever will heal! You remembered how he looked! It looked like someone had dragged a cheese grater over his face!”

I still spoke with a low voice even if I was upset and my eyes had started to tear up. My dad looked at me pained and dragged two hands over his face.

“So what should I do then, honey?”

I looked towards the staff room and thought about what would be best for Eric. Beating his stepfather up wouldn't really change anything for him, maybe it’ll even make it worse. He needed to move. Not just the days he could find a couch to sleep on but all the time.

“He needs to move… He needs another home.”

My dad nodded and thought for a minute.

“You mean I should call social services? That's a serious thing to do.”

“Yeah, but his injuries are also serious. He needs to get away, Dad.”

A tear slipped down my cheek now, and my dad wiped it away with his thumb.

“You're right…” He sighed and scratched his neck. I couldn't understand why my dad dragged it out, why he hadn't done it before. Eric needed another home. “I will call them tomorrow.”

×××

I was just fourteen and had lived in the protection of my middle-class family, without any real problems. I thought society and most people wanted you well and would do everything in their power to protect kids. My naive belief was that Eric would come to a loving family, that he would get a mom and a dad and maybe siblings after we had contacted social services. I also thought they would give him that close by so we could still be together. I seemed to believe every family was open to a foster kid in their teens with PTSD from abuse and neglect. I was really naive, and that's why I didn't understand why my dad seemed so nervous the day he would tell Eric he had contacted social services. I wanted to be there when he told Eric because I thought he would be happy to finally be rescued, but my dad had forbidden me to come to the shop that day. He said he and Eric needed time alone, and I couldn't see why.

“But do you promise to say it was my idea?” I said when my dad and I ate breakfast that morning. I wanted Eric to be grateful for me, not my dad. My dad gave me an insecure look and looked down at his plate with fried eggs.

“Are you sure about that? He maybe won’t get as excited as you think.”

“Of course he will! You don't know how scared he has been of that man and how many times I've comforted him.” I sounded a bit proud even if it was awful that Eric felt like that, but I was proud, proud that I was such a big help.

My dad nodded a little and seemed to believe me. I smiled to myself because I would be Eric's hero, and he would love me forever because of it.

My dad told Eric it was me who was behind the idea. I don't know how he did it, but he kept his promise and said to Eric that I had asked him to call social services. If I had been older, I would have thought about that more closely, if that was the right thing to do. I would have read about kids getting abused, getting depressed, and even suicidal in homes for the youth. If I had been through more things in life, I would have understood that Eric wouldn't find a family to live with, that he would live in isolation with other teenage boys with the same sort of problems as himself. Eric had never handled his trauma with aggression, but others did, and he had experienced it before, during the first time he lived in a youth home when he was fourteen. There was so much I didn't know about Eric. Still, I had acted like I knew better than him about his life.

I lived in my naive belief all day that he would thank me, so when Eric stormed into our house with my dad running behind him, I looked at him with confusion and terror from the couch I was sitting on.

“Did you tell him to call social services?!” He shouted while my dad stood next to him in horror. I swallowed hard because I couldn't understand why he was so angry. He would get a new family.

“Yes?”

Eric dragged his hands through his hair and walked from side to side.

“I thought you were on my side?!” He screamed so his voice broke. His eyes swam with tears, and I stood up with the same horror as my dad seemed to be in.

“Of course I am. What do you mean?” I whined and held a tight grip around the couch backrest.

“Are you?! Because it seems like you want to fucking kill me!”

My mom came out from the kitchen and looked at all three of us with big eyes.

“What? No! I just want you to have a loving family!”

“How stupid are you? I will not get a new family! I will just be fucking locked up! What the fuck made you feel you had the right to decide over my life?!”

I swallowed hard because I still couldn't understand what he was speaking about, but I felt awful when tears streamed down Eric's cheeks.

“Eric… She only meant well…” Said my father, and Eric looked at him.

“Because that's so easy for me to think? Because that will make everything okay? I got stabbed the last time I was there! But I guess that's okay because you fucking meant well!”

“Stabbed…?” I stuttered and looked at him with big eyes. Eric gave me a cold look and wiped his tears away.

“That's what you've done. That's what I will meet. Because you believe you know better than me.” My heart beat so hard in my chest, and now I also cried because I started to realize what he was saying. There was no happy family, just an isolated house somewhere with other wounded souls that would treat him worse than his stepfather did.

“I'm calling the police,” I heard my mom say, and we all looked at her.

“Christa…” Said my dad, but she just said the same sentence again while dialing the number.

“Mom…!” I cried out while sobbing.

Eric looked at us all, then around in our nicely decorated living room.

“Do it then. I'm out of here. I need to run now. Run for my fucking life.” Eric said it bitterly and gave me a sour look.

“Eric...!” I ran after him when he walked away, and outside of our house he turned around.

“You have destroyed my fucking life! Can you leave me alone now? Or do you really think you deserve my forgiveness?”

He looked me straight in the eyes with his shiny eyes, but they were also much darker than they used to be. I stood and looked at him in shock. I held my breath to keep from sobbing loudly because I knew I didn't have the right to feel sorry for myself. I had messed up completely, and the only way for Eric to survive it all was to flee from me and the rest of it. The further away, the better.

I tried to tell myself when Eric walked away that everything would solve itself for him. I wiped away my tears even if I continued to sob, but I continued to say to myself that I hadn't destroyed his life. A few years later I would find out I hadn't destroyed his life, but I had fucked it up really good.

×××

Three years later…

It was weird how I always faked my moaning while being with a guy. None of them made much of a sound; still, I sounded like they did everything so great. No one had, not even Lucas, even if I had chosen to continue to sleep with him in a friends-with-benefits deal. He lay in front of me while I had my leg up on his hip while he worked his hips fast. And I moaned loudly, so loudly you would believe there was a camera team behind the corner, but it was just us in his room with hockey posters on the wall. He came inside of me; lucky for me, I was on the pill.

He breathed heavily and pulled away to pull on his boxers; I cleaned myself up under the cover with a napkin from the package always laying on his bedside table. That was that, three minutes of humping.

“Was it good for you?” He asked with his hands on his hips. He was twenty-one and had a great body but not as great of a face. He looked quite boring and had a silly boyish haircut.

“Sure,” I said, standing up. He unabashedly looked at my naked body, and I showed it off as so. I had never really felt I had so much to be ashamed of, and I knew boys thought I was hot. Lucas played with his lip and pondered something.

“I have a match this weekend; do you want to come?”

“No, thank you.” I answered like he had asked me if I wanted gum, but I didn't have the energy to also come up with an excuse on why i didn’t want to go, when I had already faked an orgasm for him.

“We could have a beer after?”

“I'm seventeen.”

“Right…” He scratched his chest awkwardly when he was reminded of my age.

“I can make you dinner here?”

I started to put on my clothes, and when I had the tight mesh dress I had on the night before I turned to him.

“Look, I like you, Lucas, but I'm too young for you. Don't you get that? This is nice, but no one needs to know about this. Okay?”

Lucas scratched his chest again and nodded. I knew he was usually the one breaking girls' hearts, but I wasn't that sort of girl. I walked all over guys like him and didn't care what they thought about me. Sometimes I thought about how I had become that way, why I was so uninterested in coming close to guys, and it always ended with me thinking about the boyfriend I had had for three months as a fourteen-year-old. Something that had affected me so hard that I couldn't even see other guys as something else other than a dick I could use. 

I walked home from Lucas’ even if he offered to drive me. I wished I could go to my brother's so my mom wouldn't see me in the dress from the night before, and I thought about going to Dad's, but he lived so small after the divorce that I panicked just about the thought of showering there. I needed to go home to Mom, my childhood home where her new boyfriend had moved in. Much had changed in three years, and maybe I had changed the most. I was not an innocent girl anymore, but even if I believed I were tough and sexy now, there was one thing that would throw me off, especially because I wasn't prepared for it at all. 

Eric. At first I didn't recognize him because he had stretched out and was probably 6'4 feet tall and had broad shoulders like a quarterback. His hair was black and laid around his face messily. He wore a long leather coat and scuffed black Adidas sneakers but more than that I couldn't see because the coat covered him. I stopped and stared at him where he stood outside of an apartment building with two other guys. I didn't know what I wanted to happen but me standing like that would bring some sort of attention and one of the guys saw me and probably said something to Eric because he turned towards me and looked at me with big eyes. He had a tattoo under his eye, I couldn't see what it was, and his eyes and lips were stained with black. His face had become more manly and chiselled and his lips were fuller. If I didn't know any better I would have believed he was a model, styled by some avantgarde French designer. Eric took a drag of his cigarette while he watched me. It felt like he could see my heart beating, see my pulse, just like vampires did. I hoped he did so he wanted to put his lips on me and drink my blood but he just stomped on his cigarette and gave me a final look before following the other guys in. He wasn't interested in me at all even if I felt everything between us still was so alive in me. 

× 

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[dxppercxdxver]

she's a long-lost love at first bite baby, maybe you're wrong, but you know it's alright!

[merry chosen men christmas and a happy new yuri. or whatever]

[sunforgrace]

me showing up at the media that has a guy in it and he’s a weird little guy and he’s autistic and he’s a freak there’s something deeply wrong with him and he commits crimes against humanity <3 and MURDER ❤️and he’s bitchy and stubborn and like the rat pushing the button like icarus he will keep flying into that sun . maybe this time the wax will be better and not melt so much! and he has the wettest roundest eyes known to man but also stares at you like this 👁️👁️🧍🏻‍♂️and he’s going to gaslight manipulate malewife his way into situations and he keeps dying but like the cockroach and a broadway diva slinking her way down the grand staircase for one more number his ass is coming back god wants to kill him so so bad but he will not die. AND MOST IMPORTANTLY. obsessed with some guy. also he wears a tie and gets silly with it :3 . surely this will have no ramifications on me, known little guy collector

[tiredofsatansbullshit]

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 4K FOLLOWERS!!!

That is so crazy to me. That's such a big number. So many people have looked at my Tumblr content and made the decision they want to see more.

I've never done a celebration kinda thing before, but I decided why not. So, to celebrate 4K, I'll do the top two choices in the poll (and have them released within a reasonable amount of time):

To clarify:

The stories will be cross posted on here and on AO3

Option 2 (Tim Drake-Wayne, Duke Thomas and Cassandra Wayne take a lie detector test): this will be a part of the Wayne Family Social Media AU that the Waynes on Twitter is apart of

Option 6: this will be a multi-chapter work where, instead of becoming Robin, Jason instead goes a more legal route using Talia's wealth and influence, as well as the legal system to change Gotham

Option 10: will show how they decided to do multiple of the videos featured in the series + leading up + aftermath

[boypussydilf]

its kind of funny that ppl are talking like Literally Everyone is Actually saying or implying they would rather have the ice king than simon that. seems like an exaggeration. the only people who say anything of the sort are astrid, who wasn’t even born yet while simon was still ice king and just thinks of him as “cool wizard” and “wrote some fun books”, and fionna & cake, who have seen approximately 10 seconds of ice king in a moment where he’s not doing particularly bad, and who have only interacted with simon at literally the lowest point of his entire life so far. what finn & tv say in ep2 reads as them hearing the conversation and assuming its more along the lines of “simon being embarrassed by work he thinks is bad” than “simon trying to avoid this thing because it is associated with a traumatic part of his life”. and prismo is just like. a little peeved that he can’t access or control his own creation anymore. Like, the Points people are generally trying to make when they bring this up are not without merit, and you could say that’s the message simon got from the last couple of days but. unless i forgot something there is absolutely 0 indication of any person who met ice king saying anything that remotely actually implies they enjoyed having ice king around more than simon. we just have a handful of people saying they happen to like One Thing ice king did. the people of ooo did not undergo a wave of selective amnesia about the ice king

[rowarn]

IF YOU NEEDED ME !

simon riley/reader – 7.1k words sale of a lifetime mini series !

tags: smut, childhood best friend!simon, virginity for sale trope, unrealized feelings, soft!simon, protective!simon, virgin!reader, afab!reader, no prns for reader

cw: loss of virginity, cunnilingus, wet & messy, fingering, creampie, mid-sex love confession, a little arguing but nothing crazy tbh, petnames (love, lovie, sweetheart)

; he remembers the way you would look at him when you were children, all smiles and bright eyes. he never thought he was deserving of such happiness. but now, with you shyly covering your bare breasts, in his bed, he feels like he’s the only man deserving of you.

or.

he may not have been the first man you picked to give your first time to. but looking back, you realized he was the only right choice in the end.

Meeting some unknown, shady guy out on the street outside of a seedy bar wasn’t the smartest decision you’ve ever made. Nor was it how you actually intended to spend your Friday evening. But it was the only option you had at the moment, so you swallowed your nerves and forced yourself to stay put at the spot the guy had chosen despite the fact that being out on the street made you feel x10 more nervous and vulnerable. 

You could hear the loud music and chatter inside the bar every time the door opened to let someone in or out. There was a chill in the air that had you contemplating actually going inside and just telling the guy to meet you in there – you were about to give the bastard your damn virginity, the least he could be was accommodating to your temperature struggles. Plus, you could really use a drink.

A car, expensive by the looks of it, pulling up to the curb had you pausing in that train of thought. You recognized him from his profile picture when he stepped out of the vehicle – Lucas, you recall being his name. Whether that was really his name or not didn’t matter; all that mattered was he brought what he promised.

“You have the money?” you asked when he approached you, giving him a tight-lipped smile as a greeting.

“Yeah, got it in the car. All cash, I hope that’s alright,” he grinned, a sight that made a shiver go down your spine. His tone didn’t match the smile, all transactional and dull despite the glimmer in his eyes.

He wasn’t necessarily unattractive but he certainly wasn’t your type. There was a look in his eyes, one that made your skin crawl because you felt like you were nothing but a piece of raw meat in front of a starving, salivating predator. 

“We should get going,” he said, hurrying to open the backseat of his car for you.

You paused, “Aren’t we going to go inside or something?”

He looked confused, grip on the door tightening for a moment before he bursted out laughing. When he saw the shocked look on your face he sobered up, “Sorry, sorry, that was rude of me. Sweetheart, this isn’t a date. I’m just here to get what I paid for.”

“Oh…” you swallowed around the lump in your throat at the condescending tone, humiliation making your cheeks burn, “Right.”

Tears stung the back of your eyes and you quickly averted your gaze so he wouldn’t see how much that stung. Of course, you knew it wasn’t a date. This was a transaction. But you at least thought you’d get to know the guy who was about to take your virginity. You should have known better.

A man who was paying for your virginity wasn’t bound to be someone you could trust to feel comfortable around. You quietly sigh, resigning yourself to this all for the sake of some fucking money. 

You settle into the car, heart jumping into your throat when the door slams. It feels as if you’ve just sealed your fate and you can’t deny that you’re scared. 

But there’s an envelope next to you that you can see stuffed with bills and you clench your fists, trying to calm your racing heart by closing your eyes and breathing. 

You just hope this decision doesn’t cost you your life or something. You’d hate to imagine what that would do to a certain someone.

Suddenly, the car jostles. Your eyes snap open and you see Lucas is jacked up against the side of the car, a very familiar form caging him in. His scarred hands grip the man’s shirt in tight fists. You can’t hear what they’re saying but you can see Lucas is chattering frantically, gesturing wildly with his hands in an attempt to quell the angry man in the skull balaclava. 

You curse to yourself, a different kind of terror shocking through your system. Lucas is thrown to the side and you wince at how hard he hits the pavement before the car door is jerked open.

You can’t even say anything before a strong, rough hand wraps around your arm, yanking you out. You stumble once you’re on your feet, falling right into his chest. 

You try to pull away but his arm clamps down around you. 

Lucas is cursing and screaming his head off, words you don’t even bother to try and decipher because you’re too preoccupied with the masked figure that made his sudden appearance. Nerves make your knees shake and from the look of pure rage in his eyes, you know you’re in deep shit. 

Lucas opens the car door and slams it before driving off, tires squealing against the pavement before he vanishes. Along with that wad of cash that was going to be yours in just a short time. 

Suddenly you’re angry, shoving your hands against his chest to get him away from you.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Riley?!” you shriek, shooting him the fiercest glare you could muster.

“I should be askin’ you that,” he sneers, “The hell were you doin’ with that prick?”

“I–”

“Don’t answer that,” he snaps, cutting you off swiftly, “I know what you were doin’. If you needed money that badly you should have told me.”

“It’s not your concern, Simon!” you cry, resisting the urge to petulantly stomp your foot.

You’re so pissed. 

Simon Riley and you went way back, childhood friends. The two of you had always been in each other's lives. Simon especially was always there when you needed him, a beacon of safety and protection. Your best friend and someone you loved to the ends of the Earth. 

But right now, you’re so angry with him that you can’t seem to think straight.

How dare he show up now, when you’re about to do the most humiliating act of your entire life. How could he show his stupid, masked face here when you didn’t even ask for his help in the first place for a reason. 

“You are always my concern,” he shoots back, scarred knuckles turning white from how hard he clenches his fists, “I have always taken care of you. You should have come to me for help instead of puttin’ yourself in danger like this. You didn’t know that guy, what the fuck were you thinking?”

Anger makes your skin hot, sweat beading on your forehead, blocking out the chill that once made goosebumps rise. You feel ashamed that you were caught in this situation – that the man you’ve known your entire life knew you were about to sleep with some random asshole for a fat wad of cash. You don’t like that he’s made you feel ashamed and confronted you with it.

“Just fuck off, Simon!” you shriek, the only thing you can think of before turning on your heel and stalking away from him.

You don’t glance over your shoulder to check if he’s following because you know he most likely is – from a safe distance to make sure you make it inside your apartment alright but far enough that you can’t get mad at him for it. Your jaw is clenched so tightly that you feel a headache radiating down your neck. 

By the time you reach your apartment, the anger has simmered and all you’re left with is a festering shame that makes tears fill your eyes. You wrap your arms around yourself and quickly shuffle yourself inside, not bothering to check if Simon is out there or not. All you want is to get a hot shower and crawl into bed for the rest of the weekend. 

You do just that, letting the burning hot water scald your skin until you can’t feel any emotions except exhaustion. And then, you crawl into bed and let sleep overtake you without a second thought. 

When you wake up, it’s clear that it’s late into the afternoon. The sun is high in the sky and shining painfully bright through the crack in your curtains. You groan and roll over, slapping the bed to find your phone. 

You grab the device and unlock it, taking a moment to scroll through your notifications. There’s some angry messages from the guy from last night – cursing you out for setting him up to be jumped. It makes you roll your eyes before a particular notification catches your eye.

It’s from your bank – alerting you of a deposit. 

You sit up straight in your bed, brows furrowed before your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see your bank statement. It’s more than you needed and you know exactly who was responsible. 

You jump out of bed, not even bothering to dress out of your pajamas before you’re shoving some slides onto your feet and storming out of your apartment. 

You’re so heated that you can’t even remember the walk to Simon’s place, your mind racing a million miles a second. You storm up to the door and slam your fist on it, the hard wood making your hand sting from how hard you pound. 

The radiating tingle of pain is quickly forgotten when the door swings open. 

Simon stands there, looking down at you expectantly. He leans against the door with his arms crossed over his chest. He wears an army-issued t-shirt that’s a bit too tight. The sleeves stretch taunt around his biceps and you can make out the swell of his pecs. It’s not very often that you get to see his tattooed arms, littered with scars since he tends to wear long sleeves most of the time. 

He doesn’t look at all surprised to see you, clearly having expected you. The apathetic look in his eyes just solidifies that you were right all along.

“What the hell is your problem?!” you cry without so much as a greeting.

He sighs, broad shoulders rising and falling with it before he opens the door wide and motions you inside. You duck underneath his outstretched arm, turning to watch as he closes the door and locks it. 

He wanders into the kitchen and you realize you can smell bacon. He doesn’t seem at all surprised by your outburst nor does he seem interested in acknowledging your question.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, only solidifying how unperturbed he is by your display of anger. 

“No!” you snap, “I want to know why you did that, Simon!”

He sighs again, much louder but doesn’t respond. You stand in the doorway to his kitchen, watching him plate his lunch – which is actually just breakfast food. He places the dish on the table and pauses, looking up at you.

“You needed the money, I had it,” he offered with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I was handling it on my own,” you say, “I-It was my problem to solve.”

“By sellin’ yourself to some prick?” he snarls, the anger he was masking coming out in a flurry.

“I wasn’t selling myself–” you refute but he slams his palms down on the table. His cutlery clatters with the action and you jump.

“I read that post you made,” he hisses, teeth bared, “There’s no fuckin’ reason you should be selling your virginity for some cash when I was right here the whole time!”

Your cheeks burn when he brings up your virginity, crossing your arms over your chest protectively, “I-It’s mine to sell if I want to! I needed that money!”

“And now you have it,” he says with finality. 

He takes a seat and you stand there, fuming. Your jaw is clenched, teeth grinding together as your mind races to find a rebuttal. He begins to eat, taking large, fast bites that just shows how he’s been conditioned to eat quickly by the military. 

“That’s not the point, Simon,” you huff, growing less angry and more frustrated by this conversation. You were just going around in circles. 

“Then what is the point?” he snaps, snatching his empty plate and angrily tossing it in the sink. He turns to you again, a frown evident on his face, “You got the money you needed safely. That’s all that matters.”

“It’s too much money, Simon!” you cry, “I was selling something in exchange for it!”

“I care about you,” he says, “That doesn’t matter to me. What’s mine is yours, you know that.”

You silently glare at him, wishing that the heated stare would get through to him. He stands unbothered, staring blankly at you with his fists clenched by his sides.

You hang your head, sighing, “I-I can’t take your money, Simon, alright? I’m already in debt and I’m not going to be in debt to you of all people.”

“You feel like you owe me, is that it?” he asks.

You nod your head, heart rate spiking when he stalks towards you. You’re close enough to smell his body wash and aftershave, a painfully familiar scent that you adore. He stares down his nose at you, brown eyes lidded and lazy. 

He reaches out suddenly, rough hand gripping your cheeks, smushing them together until your lips pucker, “Then give me a kiss as payment.”

“H-Huh?” you whimper dumbly, eyes wide in shock as his face grows closer and closer.

“It can be payment for a kiss, lovie,” he coos, syrupy sweet and soft, “Will that make up for it, then?”

The air in your lungs suddenly doesn’t feel like enough. This is a man that you’ve known almost your entire life so you’ve obviously thought about him in a romantic sense at some point. Hell, when you were a teenager you even had a crush on him. But he never once looked at you any other way than as a friend so you quickly got over it – or maybe that’s just what you told yourself. Because as you stand there, staring into his eyes, you realize that kissing him would feel like a dream come true. 

You find yourself nodding despite the inner turmoil going on in your head. Simon huffs through his nose before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. 

There’s a shock of electricity that goes through you at the contact. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean into the kiss, letting him take over. He works his lips expertly against yours, eventually abandoning his hold on your face in favor of wrapping his arm around your waist. You gasp into the kiss when he suddenly yanks you closer, your body pressed close against his. 

He’s warm and sturdy against you, a solid form of muscle that makes you feel safe and content – just as he always has. His hands are big and rough as they grip your hips, kneading the soft flesh there as he gets lost in kissing you. 

“S-Si,” you find yourself muttering without realizing.

He hums in response, chuckling when you continue to mindlessly kiss him. He pulls back, one hand coming up to wrap lightly around your throat, thumbing at your jaw as your eyes slowly focus on him, “What is it, sweetheart? What do you need?”

“I-I don’t…” you swallow thickly around the forming lump in your throat, “I don’t know. I just…”

“Show me,” he breathes, softer than you’ve ever heard his voice. 

The sweet, tender look in his big, brown eyes is what gives you the courage to grab his wrist, leading it just under the hem of your shirt so he can touch your bare stomach. You give him a shy glance from under your lashes, hoping he’ll get the hint that you want more. 

You want him.

Simon, in all his experienced wisdom, understands immediately what it is you’re aching for. His hand travels up further, pausing at your ribs, just under the swell of your breast. Your heart hammers in your chest when your gaze meets his. His eyes are lidded, long lashes obscuring his pupils but still burning into you. 

He stares deep into your eyes, waiting for any sign of hesitation as his fingers creep higher and higher. You suck in a breath when he cups your breast in his palm, squeezing lightly to feel their weight. 

A large, calloused thumb creeps up, passing ever so softly over your nipple until the bud peaks and hardens under the attention. You sigh at the feeling, new shocks washing over you that you’ve never experienced before. 

Sure, you played with yourself plenty – you had a healthy masturbation life, you’d say. But you’d always just been focused on reaching an orgasm, never on the build up. You imagine, however, it would never feel as good by yourself as it does with him.

He pinches your nipple between two fingers and you whine, lips parting as the sound escapes. Simon takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. Your hands grab his shoulders, desperately clinging to his shirt as you lose yourself in the sloppy kiss. 

Drool drips down your chin – it's messy and hot between the two of you. His hand switches to your other breast to give it the same attention as the other. You tremble in his arms, overcome by the insatiable throbbing between your thighs. 

You shift on your feet, the fabric of your panties stick uncomfortably to your core. You’re so wet, wetter than you’ve ever been in your life. By the time he pulls back, there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to his. 

“You want more?” he asks, voice gravelly as he speaks, as if he’s drunk. You nod your head and he clicks his tongue, “You gotta tell me, sweetheart.”

“I-I want more, Si,” you whisper, feeling your cheeks burn as you admit it. 

“Let’s go,” he hums, taking your hand in his as he leads you around the couch towards the hallway.

“Where?” you ask dumbly, hoping that making some kind of conversation would ease the nerves steadily building in your chest. 

“The bedroom,” he responds, stroking his thumb over the top of your hand as if he can sense that you’re nervous, “Wouldn’t want to be stripped down in the middle of the living room, I imagine.”

“N-No,” you squeak, cheeks burning even hotter at those words. 

You’re going to be naked. In front of another person for the first time. In front of him. Simon. 

“There now, lovie,” he whispers as he shuts his bedroom door behind the both of you. He takes your waist in his hands, kneading the soft flesh there, “It’s alright.”

“I-I’m just–”

“Nervous,” he finishes for you, smiling softly when you nod, “I know. We can stop anytime you’d like.”

“I don’t want to,” you rush out, hands coming up to press against his firm chest, “Just…d-don’t be upset when I don’t know what I’m doing.”

The tender way he looks at you sets your heart pounding like a little rabbit. A ghost a smile appears on his lips, “I would never do somethin’ like that.”

“I-I know, I just…” you look down at your feet only for him to catch your chin in his fingers, pulling you to look up at him.

You swallow thickly around the lump in your throat, holding your breath as he descends down. His lips find yours all over again, as exhilarating and mind-melting as the first time. 

Just the sweet, deep kiss he gives you has your nerves dissipating a bit – back to normal levels. You no longer feel the desire to flee, you just feel an intense longing and anticipation. You crave more from him.

As if sensing this, his fingers find the hem of your shirt. He slowly starts to pull it up, agonizingly slow. But you’re grateful for it, it gives you time to prepare before you’re bared completely to him. You lift your arms for him, a sign that you’re still okay with this. 

He pulls it up over your head and lets the fabric drop to the floor. But he doesn’t look down, he continues looking in your eyes, softly pecking your lips as his hands cup your breasts once more. 

When you sigh and lean into his touch, he finally lets himself break the eye contact. He sucks in a sharp breath when he sees how pretty your tits sit in his hands. He touches them softly, sweetly brushing over your nipples in admiration. 

“Perfect tits, lovie,” he coos, chuckling when you whine in embarrassment. 

His head descends, pink lips parting to take one of your nipples in his mouth. It’s hot but his tongue is soft when it circles and flicks at the bud. He sucks, popping off lewdly before switching to the other one. 

The sensation makes you squeeze your thighs together, imaging what that would feel like around your clit. Your hole clenches around nothing, drooling messily into your panties. The fabric was so wet by now that it couldn’t soak it up anymore, leaving it to slick up your thighs instead.

Your core ached, a feeling only Simon would be able to soothe. 

“Please, Si,” you finally break, whimpering pathetically. 

He detaches from your breast, lips wet and swollen from the worship he had been giving your now sore nipples. His pupils were blown wide, black swallowing brown and you were sure that yours looked the same. 

He stands to his full height, nudging you backwards until your knees hit the bed. They buckled at that, leaving you to fall back against the bed. Simon’s bedding was soft, the scent of detergent and his own body wash filling your senses. You relax at the familiar, comforting scent, sinking into the blankets with a bashful smile on your face.

To Simon, you’re an ethereal beauty. You take the air right out of his lungs with the way you look at him.

He remembers the way you would look at him when you were children, all smiles and bright eyes. He never thought he was deserving of such happiness. But now, with you shyly covering your bare breasts, in his bed, he feels like he’s the only man deserving of you. 

He scooches you up the bed, crawling on after you until he’s on top of you. Though you’re still wearing your pants, you feel so vulnerable beneath his weight. He’s heavy and warm and he smells so good. You can’t focus on anything except for him – he’s all around you and it’s exhilarating. 

Feeling bold, you reach up and tug at his shirt. He pulls it off with ease, revealing his toned, scarred upper body. You can’t help but trace over some of the ones you’re familiar with – there’s one from a time he fell out of a tree trying to rescue a cat that you had been crying about. He fell out of the tree on the way down, a jagged branch stabbing into his upper arm and slicing it open. There was another one from when you were teenagers, some other kids jumped him and he took a stab to his shoulder trying to protect you. You kiss that one and he softens, as if he’s remembering it too. 

He’s always been there for you, an overwhelming presence that you simply couldn’t live without. The fact you’re here, in this bed, about to give him your virginity is something that you never would have expected. 

And to think, you were planning to sell it off to some random loser. 

“I’m glad you stopped me,” you find yourself whispering. 

He looks confused for a second before he hums, nodding in understanding, “I am too.”

“I-I want it to be you, Si,” you whisper, the confession leaving you embarrassed. It’s true, all this time, you realize, he’s all you’ve ever really wanted. You had just buried it deep down so you no longer felt those sparks towards him.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispers back, as if the two of you are sharing some secret little moment that no one else can hear about even though it’s just the two of you in this room. 

“You always do,” you respond, the words making his dark eyes light up. 

He kisses you deeply, moving his lips slowly against yours. When your hands come up to grip the back of his neck, he takes that as his cue to move down to your neck, then your collarbones, down the center of your chest between your breasts, the spot between your breasts, and finally your navel. 

You lay back, head in his pillows with your hands on either side of your head. You watch him, breathing labored as you wait for his next move. He pauses in his path, looking up through his lashes at you before his fingers find the hem of your sweats. You swallow thickly, holding your breath when he slowly begins to pull the fabric down. You lift your hips to help him, pulling your legs free while being careful not to kick him by accident. 

He keeps his gaze on you until you’re settled back down into the bed and the pants are forgotten on the floor to be collected later. Then, he looks down. 

Even though you still have your panties on, you know that the white cotton is soaked through and hides absolutely nothing from his view. 

You watch as he licks his lips, as if his mouth is suddenly bone dry. His hands are burning hot when he touches you again, sliding over your thighs to your hips. He leans down, pressing his lips against each of your thighs. 

His thumb reaches down, stretches over your pubic bone to touch the sticky fabric. You nearly jump at the sensation – someone’s fingers other than your own touching you there for the first time. Simon’s fingers.

As if he can’t help himself anymore, he tugs the waistband of your panties and yanks them down your thighs. You squeal when you’re jostled under the force. 

He holds the material up and you’re mortified to see just how wet they are. He runs his thumbs over the crotch and you whine, drawing his attention from them. He drops them to the floor and returns his hands back to you, gripping underneath your knees, so he can spread you all the way open. 

Your hands fly to your face, covering your eyes in embarrassment at how exposed you are. He doesn’t seem to mind, pressing a kiss over the top of your hands before moving back down your body. 

You peek through your fingers only to find him already staring at you with a sparkle in his eyes. He carefully spreads your slippery folds apart with his thumbs, the movement causing a wet, sticky sound to emanate from between your legs. The little bud of your clit is hard and twitching as it’s exposed to the cool air of the bedroom. When he’s sure you’re looking he leans down, pink tongue hanging out of his mouth. You stop breathing as you watch a fat glob of spit roll down the surface of the smooth muscle and splatter right on your clit. 

“Si-!” your squeal of his name is cut off when your eyes roll back in his head as that sinful tongue slides right over your bud. 

Your whole body twitches at that, hands falling away from your face so you can reach down and grab his hair. It doesn’t even seem like he notices your grip, focused on slurping up that sensitive nub into his hot mouth. 

You choke out a moan, tilting your head back into the pillows as your back arches. It feels just as good as you thought it would when he was giving the same, lewd treatment to your nipples. 

He continues to suck and lick your clit until your mind is completely blank and all you can think is him. Then, all at once it stops and he pulls back, letting your bud slip from the heavenly clutch of his lips.

“You ever have somethin’ inside you, lovie?” he asks, bringing up one of his fingers to swipe through the folds of your entrance, as if to show you what he intends. 

You swallow to moisten your throat before nodding, “J-Just my fingers.”

“How many?” he asks, growing more confident in prodding at the tight little hole. 

“T-Two,” you breathe, any embarrassment you felt long dissipated in the face of true pleasure.

“Alright, lovie,” he hums, “Just lay back, I’ll take good care of you, yeah?”

You nod and do as he says, turning utterly boneless against the blankets. The sweat already slicking your skin despite the fact you’ve only just begun makes the fabric stick to you. 

He prods at your entrance for only a second longer before finally, he pushes his thick middle digit inside you. Your cunt is so wet and pliant that it hungrily swallows it up to the very last knuckle. You clench around it intentionally, getting used to the feeling of the foreign finger inside of you for the first time. 

It feels so different compared to your own, thicker and rougher. The sensation is so strange but you can’t say you don’t like it – in fact, it feels amazing. You already want another, feeling like one just isn’t enough to give you that unknown feeling you’re chasing. It’s like you have an itch that needs to be scratched and only Simon can do it for you. 

As if sensing this, ever the reliable one, he carefully introduces a second finger. The stretch is unfamiliar, a burn around your entrance following as he reaches the last knuckle on that one too. His middle and ring finger stuffed snuggly inside your gooey little cunt as you whine and squirm from the feeling. 

Once you’ve adjusted, he slowly begins working them in and out of you. You slick up his fingers easily, streaks of creamy white coating his skin and making his mouth water. When he crooks his fingers up suddenly, prodding at that tender little spot inside of you, your entire body twitches and the most beautiful moan rips from your chest. 

He can’t resist leaning down and trapping your pulsing little clit under the flat of his tongue. He doesn’t slurp it into his mouth like before, instead, he just licks over it, pressing it down with the muscle. Your eyes are rolled up and your mouth hangs open as you moan and moan, tugging mindlessly at his hair as he works you towards your orgasm. 

It grows and grows, the unrelenting pleasure of his fingers fucking deeply into you and his tongue lapping sloppily at your clit like a mutt driving that knot in your belly to tighten. Drool spills out around his tongue, slipping down to meet his fingers where he easily fucks it into you – the added lubrication not needed but so very welcome with how much wetter and messier it makes you. 

“S-Simon…” you pant, gasping to catch your breath as the pleasure makes it hard for you to even think. 

He glances up at you through his lashes but doesn’t offer any other acknowledgement. There’s a knowing look in his eyes that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s going to wring this orgasm out of your little cunt whether you like it or not. 

And fuck, do you love it. 

The orgasms you brought yourself in the deep of the night, little hands stuffed down your panties as you played with your clit and stuffed yourself with your own fingers was nothing like what you were experiencing now. Simon’s thick fingers and hot tongue were torturing your little clit until your entire body started to lock up.

You looked at him desperately, unsure what was even going through your mind besides him and how fucking good you felt right now. 

Just as you teetered on the edge of this orgasm, he suddenly changed up and swallowed your twitchy little clit into his mouth. He sucked, sending you flying over the edge with a shrill wail of his name. Your legs kicked and twitched, heels hitting him on the back as you trembled and shook through the orgasm that he eagerly fucked out of you onto his fingers. 

He suckled your clit, swirling his tongue around it until it was too sensitive and you were tearily pushing him away. When he finally released you, slipping his fingers from your cunt, you were boneless and twitching on the bed. You didn’t even try to close your legs when he pulled away, giving him the perfect view to watch your cute little pussy clench and messily drool cum in the aftermath of your orgasm. 

He popped his fingers in his mouth, eyes rolling and lashes fluttering at the taste of your cum tingling on his taste buds. As you came down, eyes closed and breathing heavy, he began pulling at his belt. 

You could hear the metal clinking as he dropped it to the floor, peeking your heavy lids open to see him pull the button of his jeans open. As he slowly pulled them down, his underwear went with and suddenly you were more aware than ever. 

His cock was something to behold. Thick and veiny, bobbing in the air where it hung – too heavy to actually stand upright. You’d seen dicks in porn before but none of them prepared you for Simon’s. Precum dribbled from the tip, creating a long, gooey string down towards the floor before it broke. 

He wrapped a big hand around himself, giving a few good strokes as he reached down to cup his own heavy balls. The hair wasn’t wild or offensive, but neatly trimmed short. 

“All good, lovie?” he asked, stepping out of the pool of his jeans and boxers so he could kneel on the bed again.

“All god-good!” you blushed as he laughed, leaning down over you to balance his weight on his elbows.

“You still want this?” he asks, hushed and sweet, 

You glance between your bodies to see that intimidating cock, drooling messily over your skin. You realize, quickly, that you’ve never wanted anything more in your life.

When you voice such, he looks relieved, like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. He sits back on his heels and spreads your legs, pushing your knees up to your chest.

“Hold them there,” he orders, which you follow immediately. 

Your elbows circle around your knees, holding yourself open for him as he asked. He whistles low in appreciation when your cum-slicked cunt was spread and exposed for him to prod his cockhead against. 

He swipes the tip up and down through your folds, humming appreciatively when your little hole tries to suck him in every time he grazes past it. He nudges your clit, the little bud still hard and sensitive from your orgasm but so eager for more. He couldn’t wait to grant your wish and make you cream on his cock. 

You watch him with wide eyes as he starts to push into you. Your jaw drops as you feel that burning stretch, an ache settling between your legs as he continues to sink himself into you. 

“F-Fuck, wait, Simon!” you squeal and he halts immediately. 

He’s only reached just past the head of his cock but he reaches down to pet your clit. The pleasure shoots through you, making your toes curl and your walls relax around him. He keeps his eyes on your face for any sign that you want him to stop as he moves his hips again. 

More and more of his cock sinks inside and his thumb keeps working little circles over your clit until his hips are flush with yours. Your voice breaks as you moan when you realize you’ve taken every single inch of him. 

He’s heavy and throbbing inside of you and you clench around him intentionally, forcing a moan from his chest. 

He leans down, arranging your knees over his shoulders, folding you up and pressing down on  you. He’s heavy and it makes it hard to breathe but that makes it even better – the pleasure of being speared on that fat cock and being utterly helpless underneath this man is better than any fantasy you could have made for yourself. 

“Fuck,” he snarls, rolling his hips back before rocking them forward again, heavy balls slapping against you as he does, “Can’t believe you were gonna give this little cunt away to some prick.”

“S-Si,” you whimper, biting your lip at the feeling of him slowly and carefully rocking his hips against yours, “‘M sorry, sh-shoulda been you all this time.”

“That’s fuckin’ right,” he hums, “No one else gets to love you but me, sweetheart.”

“O-Only you!” you agree, nails digging into his shoulders when he hits that spot just right. 

He can feel you soaking his cock, drippy cum lathering him up to make every glide of his cock wetter than the last. He sits back up on his knees, adjusting his grip so he can pin your legs wide open, giving him the best view of your greedy cunt swallowing his length up. 

He begins to fuck you in earnest, pulling out halfway before sliding home again - nothing like the little movements he gave you to prepare you. He was going to show you exactly why you should only think of giving him this precious pussy for the rest of your life. No one will ever be able to fuck you as good as he can, he’s going to learn your body like the back of your hand and you’re never going to be able to cum as hard as you can with him. You’ll never even want to use your own fingers again when he’s done with you. 

You can’t do anything but lay there and take it, take the pleasure and take his cock. He hits so deep, prodding at your cervix in a way that aches but it only feels that much better when it’s mixed with mind-numbing pleasure. 

Simon looms above you, panting and groaning as he fucks you like he was made to. He angles his hips just right, blunt nails biting into your thighs where he pins you open, neither of you caring if he happens to break skin while he does. You don’t even register the bite of pain underneath the way his cock prods you g-spot so perfectly. 

Your own fingers would have been tired by now, no longer able to work that little spot like you need. Simon’s cock, however, is unrelenting. The pleasure builds and mounts uninterrupted, every stroke of his length sending you higher. His body moves fluidly, rolling his hips tirelessly so he can give you every ounce of pleasure your sweet little cunt needs. 

You’re creaming around him, a frothy, milky ring forming around the base every time he sinks in and becoming visible when he pulls back. It’s filthy and messy and makes your cheeks burn but Simon seems to not mind in the slightest.

“So fuckin’ messy, love,” he coos, breathy and slurred, “Look at that, pretty cunt needed some cock, huh?”

“Y-Yours!” you manage to choke out.

“What’s that?” he asks, a crooked, teasing grin on his face. 

“Y-Your cock! Only needed your cock, Simon,” you pant, reaching up to grope your own tits, pinching and rolling your nipples meanly. It hurts so good, making you clench around his cock. He moans at the sight, his pretty little virgin tormenting your own nipples.

“That’s right,” he hums, reaching a shaky hand down to thumb at your clit, “Keep pinchin’ those pretty tits, sweetheart. Don’t stop.”

You nod your head, unable to form a vocal response from the new sensation of your clit being played with while he fucks you. It feels so damn good that you could go drunk from it all. Everything in your brain is slow, thoughts of only him and how good you feel are all that’s there. Your entire world, right at this moment, revolves around Simon Riley. 

He knows it too, a cocky grin on his face as he works you to your orgasm. You dangle, almost helplessly, staring unblinkingly at his handsome face as he works it out of you. 

After what feels like minutes, but is probably only seconds, you cum. Hard.

Your head slams back against the pillows, back arching as you cunt clasps tight around him. You cry out in pure, unadulterated pleasure as he fucks you through it. His thumb keeps working your clit as it twitches and pulses under the digit, cumming nice and pretty for him just like he wanted. Just like you deserved. 

You cream his cock messily, it drips down his balls and down your ass to the bedding below. So fucking sloppy and wet, a perfect little cunt made to take his cock. 

His brows furrow, mouth falling open as his own orgasm mounts and builds. Now that your well-earned orgasm is out of the way, he can finally let go and allow himself to experience it as well.

“Where do you want it?” he grits out, teeth clenched from the ache of holding back.

His balls draw up, heavy and full. He feels ready to positively explode when you gasp, “I-Inside!”

His head falls back, the loudest, most drawn out moan you’d never expected to come from a stoic man like Simon falling from his lips. It’s deep and primal, full of nothing but euphoria as he spills into you. His load is hot and thick, drooling out of the sides of his cock as he slows his thrusts to milk the least bits of pleasure from the orgasm. 

When he comes down, he collapses. Your legs lock around his waist and he draws you tightly into his arms, neither of you caring for the way his weight crushes you. All you care about is being wrapped up in his arms where you belong. 

He pulls his neck from your chest and kisses your forehead. Then he kisses your nose. Then your lips. 

“Pretty,” he breathes, still drunk on the endorphins of the sex so his lips are a little looser than they’d normally be, “Always thought you were pretty.”

“Really?” you prompt, cheeks heating at his confession. 

He hums, “Glad you’re finally mine.”

You beam, “No one deserved me as much as you.”

He nods as if it’s the most obvious statement in the world, rolling off of you with a sigh. His cock unplugs your cunt and a gush of your mixed cum comes out, making you whine. He laughs softly, drawing you back into your arms. 

You’ve never felt safer and warmer in your life, knowing in that moment that you should have come to Simon all along. There’s no one in the world who would be there for you, more willing and able than he. 

this work belongs to rowarn. do not repost to third party websites or use for character ai. reblogs welcome and appreciated!

[icarusredwings]

Maybe it's just me but do you guys ever think about how calmed down Wade would get if fucked regularly?? Unironically the chemicals that release during and after sex are some of the bodies best pain killers and seeing how he's chronically ill (in a sense) and probaby in pain multiple times a day, As well as the clarity you get afterwards.. might help him mentally.

I imagine it would be like putting him on Adderall.

Not that he doesn't already try to keep the house functional and managed, but I can see him sitting and humming while watching tv instead of doing something impulsive like coloring on a highway bridge. Dishes done, folding laundry, floors swept. He actually can remember to take out the trash now.

Of course hes still gonna say odd shit, you can't fuck that out of him, but still?

Better sleep, clearer mind, less pain?

I mean, sure, he's gonna get his pelvic crushed or his hip broke, or maybe even given 36 stab wounds, but I think it would do him some good. Especially to get all that energy out?

I just feel bad that his poor chosen mate is laterally a 200 year old man with a terrible diet and is an alchoolic.

Actually, you know what. Let the old man get some, too. Calm his ass right down. Maybe he'll stop having nightmares and stop chugging bottles, Who knows.

[strawhbrrries]

Love and Lust

pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader

summary:

warnings: unprotected sex, no foreplay, oral (m receiving), creampie??, female pronouns, whiny mike, whiny reader, switch!mike??, teasing, overstim, hair pulling, nipple pinching, not proofread, porn with no plot

word count: 1.3k words

author’s note: this isn't as needy n whiny as I originally hoped so I hope you guys can forgive me!!! please send requests for what you'd like to see next! very dedicated to @mfdxz because queen has been WAITING for this one

“Please.” He whined in your ear, licking and sucking at any of the skin on your neck that he could reach. “I need you, now.”

“I’m trying, I can’t get your stupid belt unbuckled.” You whined back, sitting up from your position on top of him to try and see the belt buckle better.

“Baby, I am going to cum in my pants if you don’t hurry up.” He relaxed his head against the pillows that lined the headboard, chest rising rapidly as he tried to regulate his breathing. 

On normal days when Abby was home you tried to avoid doing anything sexual, but the second Mike had gotten home the atmosphere shifted. He came up behind you in the kitchen, pressing your ass against the hard-on raging in his jeans, trying to slide his hand under the waistband of your sweats. His fingers made it as far as touching your clit before Abby stumbled in asking for more dinner, a small groan only loud enough for the two of you came out.

The clink of the buckle hitting the floor dissipated any frustration you had, your fingers immediately unzipped his jeans and threw them off somewhere on the floor. Today was one of the few days he’d chosen to go commando, both of you were now appreciating this.

You went back to straddling his waist, grinding down against his cock, your wetness causing your underwear to conform to your folds as you slid his cock between them. His breath hitched at the feeling, he turned his head to the side in an attempt to cover his mouth. 

“Fuck, baby..” Mike groaned, thrusting his hips upwards in an attempt to create more friction.

“Feel good, Mikey?” You teased, moving down his body to sit in between his legs.

“Baby..” Is all he could muster in response, anything else was lost the second you put the tip of his cock in your mouth.

The feeling of him in your mouth, hard and leaking from the need to fuck you, caused a moan to vibrate around him. He tried to close his legs at the feeling, you hadn’t even done anything and yet it was all too much already. Your hands pushed them back open, taking his cock as far as it could go, your nose was pressing against his pubic bone. You hollowed your cheeks as you pulled off of him, using your tongue to swirl around it as you went.

You climbed back up his body, straddling his waist yet again, and placing your lips against his. The kiss was needy and messy, strings of saliva connecting your chins together. His fingers found your hair, entangling themselves at the base and pulling your head back. He needed you, and he was tired of letting you have that control.

“I said, I needed you, now.” He grunted, nipping at your exposed collarbone.

Mike lifted your shirt and threw it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor, latching onto one of your nipples and rolling the other in between his fingers. You threw your head back at the sensation, trying to hold yourself up against him in an attempt to keep control. Any ounce of control that you had left disappeared when your hair was yanked backwards, causing a loud whimper to leave your mouth and Mike to slap a hand over it. 

The sound of Abby shuffling around in her room stopped the two of you in your tracks, the soft padding of her footsteps passed by the bedroom door. You exchanged a look, it was past her bedtime, and he was off to go check on her. Nights when Abby left her room after her initial bedtime meant she’d be more likely to leave more times throughout the night, sometimes she just wasn’t tired and sometimes she just couldn’t sleep, it’s how she worked.

You heard the two of them exchanging muffled words quickly followed by their footsteps back into her room. To save time, in the chance Abby did leave her room again, you threw your underwear into the pile on the floor.

“She needed water.” He mumbled, closing the door and locking it behind him, throwing off the sweats he’d put on in a hurry. 

The bed dipped as he climbed up you, kissing his way up your body. His fingers slid between your folds, collecting your wetness and bringing the fingers to your mouth. He tapped your lips, an indicator that he wanted you to open your mouth, and slid his fingers in when you opened them.

“How do you taste, sweet girl? Let me taste.” Mike removed his fingers from your mouth and leaned closer to kiss you, swirling his tongue around yours. “Fuuuck.”

Two fingers swirled at your entrance, pushing in slightly as his other hand covered your mouth just in case. He curled his fingers, brushing against the soft, spongy spot inside of you. Your body jerked against him, whining against his hand. 

“Shhh, I’ll take care of you, I promise.” He whispered in your ear, a low groan following behind it as he removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock.

The stretch was wonderful, stinging slightly at the lack of prep but an oh so delicious sting. A small whine escaped his throat, hips stuttering slightly at the feeling of your warm cunt stretching around him. His eyes were squeezed shut, trying to keep himself quiet and to stop himself from cumming so soon. There was just something about having to be quiet and the dire need to fuck you into the mattress was sending him into a spiral, his eyes were just as glazed over as yours were.

His hips thrusted in and out, fingers fumbling around your chest as he searched for your nipples. You brought your hands to your mouth, despite most of your moans and whines getting caught in your throat every time his hips pushed back in, the chance of being caught bringing an overwhelming sense of excitement.

“Baby, fuuck…baby.” Mike moaned, splaying one hand on your stomach and bringing the other to his mouth. 

He was holding on by a thread, orgasm threatening to spill all over your insides with every thrust, he’d been waiting for this all day and now that it was finally here he couldn’t even hold on. 

“I need to cum..” He whined, leaning over so your knees were against your chest and his mouth was by your ear.

“Inside..” You managed to choke out, keeping one hand on your mouth and digging the other into the skin of his bicep, small moon shaped indents appearing.

After you finished your one word sentence he painted your insides with a low groan, sweaty forehead laying itself in the crook of your neck as he continued to thrust in and out. The over-stimulation was too much but he was determined to get you off, he slithered a hand between your bodies. He drew figure eights over your clit as he continued his thrusting, sucking and licking at the skin of your neck.

“Mikey…Mikey..” Your words were breathy and almost inaudible, all you could think, hear, smell, taste was just Mike.

He was overwhelming your senses in the best way and all you wanted was to live in this blissful state forever, full of him. One more thrust had your mind reeling, body shaking, sharp white pleasure searing through your veins as your orgasm ripped through you. He slapped another hand over your mouth, continuing his thrusts to help work you through your orgasm.

“Mike? What are you doing to her?” Abby asked innocently, standing at the open door that didn’t latch when he thought he locked it.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Reader and Sanemi going from hating to marrying each other + meeting up with the Kamado family post infinity castle

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,2k

Synopsis: Gosh, you hated that guy. Just the way the wind hashira talked to you pushed you over the edge far too often. Little did you know that you'll feel different about that hot-tempered man after everything is over, that you'll find yourself convincing your husband to meet the Kamado family...

Warnings: THIS IS SPOILER FREE Y'ALL, I wrote this without ANY spoilers in it, so none of the outcome is what actually happens in the manga like that (I actually aim for a spoiler-free blog so anime onlys don't have to worry, death of basically every other hashira, language, angst to fluff

Special thanks to cutie patootie @effetsecndaires for that super cute suggestion 🤍

„Me and that guy?“

„Yeah, there’s ain’t no way I’m working with that spoiled brat-„

„Who are you to call me spoiled, you prick-“

“Did you just call me prick you little-“

“Can you two just stop?”, Giyu mumbles under his breath, all pairs on eyes set on you and the wind hashira who is only inches away from your face by know.

God, how much you hate that guy. Since the first time you saw him beating up a bunch of innocent demon slayer to now where you literally feel his urge to slap you right into your face, you can’t stand him. Out of all skilled demon slayers, why does it have to be him? How did he even achieve the status of a pillar in the first place?

“Stay the hell out of it, Tomioka”, Sanemi barks at the water hashira in an instant.

“Stop acting like a jerk. Don’t you get that nobody will ever like you if you treat them like that!?”

“Not liking me? Look at you, (y/n). You’re a total loser.”

“Take that back right now!”

“That’s enough, stop already”, Gyomei finally speaks out.

Oh, you couldn’t care less about the stone hashira lifting himself off the ground or the thick tension that fills the air. Out of instinct, you yank towards, your fist aiming straight for his face. That little fucker will pay for every single insult, for every time he put you down-

“I said enough, (y/n).”

“Let go of me!”, you cry out when Gyomei catches you mid-air.

“You heard him, (y/n). Enough is enough”, Sanemi jeers at you with a slight grin.

Oh, how much you would have given to get teased by Sanemi Shinazugawa like that one last time. How desperately you wish you could turn back time to see all their faces again. When all of you arrived within the infinity castle, you knew you might not make it out alive, that some of your beloved friends will eventually never find their way out.

“Sanemi!”, you cried into the countless chambers around you, eyes aimlessly searching for the man your eyes locked with just seconds ago.

“(y/n)!”, he shouted from afar.

Where is he? Is he safe? What if you’ll never see him again? You swallowed hard, desperately trying to stop your dumb eyes from watering. What if…you’ll never see Sanemi again?

“Where are you?”

“Don’t you dare to die on me here!”, he yelled on top of his lungs.

Before eventually, he stopped replying.  Before you faced countless demons on your own, all at once.

You would have never imagined that those crazy eyes you hated so much since joining the chosen circle of hashira would be the ones you’ll see last before your lifeless body collapses onto the floor.

“No, you can’t leave me like that. Not you too, (y/n). Get yourself together and fight!”, he hissed through gritted teeth while grabbing your body tightly.

“S…Sanemi?”

What a relief it was to fall asleep in his muscular arms.

And what a surprise it was to wake up with him by your side again.

“I’m so tired”, you mumbled before being able to even think straight.

Everything hurt. From your little toe to your shoulder, over your torso and your crushed leg. It feels like you just returned from a trip to hell.

“You’re awake.”

Don’t so familiar voice that suddenly sounds so soft and broken, that maniac orbs that suddenly turned…hurt. Is Sanemi Shinazugawa crying?

“Are you okay?”, you croaked.

What about the others? Are they safe? Did you make it? What about Muzan, the upper moons, Tanjiro and his sister? Your brain threatens to give him, a breathtaking wave of nausea close to hit you with full force.

“Dumbass, look at yourself first. Are you okay?”

Gently, he caressed your cheek with his bruised knuckles, forcing your heart to skip a beat. Is this really the Sanemi Shinazugawa you know and hate?

Hate?

You furrow your eyebrows. Did you really hate him those past few weeks when you sat together after training past after midnight? Did you really hate him when fighting against those demons, when he was all you were able to think about? When on earth did you start un-hating him?

“I’m fine…But…the others?”

Just the way he shakes his head in defeat is enough for you to know. You swallow hard. All the people you loved…Mitsuri who always braided your hair, Shinobu always stitched you up after another fight with Sanemi, Giyu who always scolded you for acting out like that. Tanjiro, Nezuko, Gyomei, Obanai, Muichiro…Are all of them gone?

Suddenly you fail to breathe. Your friends, your found-family.

Everything’s gone.

“Hey, don’t panic.”

Did they suffer? How many people were forced to die in that senseless war?

“Look at me, (y/n).”

You can’t catch your breath, shaky hands clinging onto Sanemi’s sleeve for what feels like dear life.

“(y/n).”

He grabs your face with both of his hands. And all of the sudden, everything around you starts to get calm.

“It will be alright. Not today, not even tomorrow or next week. But we’ll get through this together.”

“I hate you”, you breathe out while getting lost in the new-found peace his eyes radiate.

“I hate you too”, he mumbles.

Why do his lips suddenly look so inviting, roaming closer and closer? Why do you enjoy the way he holds your face in place with his rough hands, how he stares at you in distress?

But there’s something apart from distress, a new-found feeling you’ve never seen before.

“More than anything else”, you add.

“Absolutely, yes.”

And then his lips crash into yours. Longingly, almost desperate Sanemi Shinazugawa kisses you with every fiber of his being, allows his body to finally give him. He never allowed himself a single positive thought when it came to you, always hated every minor thing you did. Until the infinity castle made him realize what he truly feels for you, that he needs to catch a taste of your forward lips before it is too late.

That was exactly one year ago.

“What’s on your mind again?”, Sanemi mumbles into your hair while staring into the sunset and holding you tight.

“Oh, I was just thinking about how much you hated me back then”, you chuckle.

What a relief it is. Being able to watch the sunset without fearing the night. Being able so live another day with your husband by your side.

Your husband, Sanemi Shinazugawa.

“I wonder what they would think, seeing us like that”, Sanemi comments dryly.

“Oh, they wouldn’t believe us.”

“Absolutely not, nah.”

“But I bet they’d be proud, right? I’m sure it’s fine that we’re doing okay…”

“You’re talking nonsense again, (y/n). Why would they ever be mad at us for living our lives?”

“Because they couldn’t.”

You swallow the lump that forms itself deep in your throat down. Not a single day went by without you thinking about your comrades. How they always had to keep the two of you separated, how much fun you’ve had despite the circumstances.

But now, there’s only you and Sanemi left. And Tanjiro Kamado.

“I think we should pay the Kamado family a visit”, you add before thinking about it any further.

To this day, Sanemi refused to meet up with Tanjiro and his sister. Maybe because he still hates the boy with the scar, maybe because seeing Tanjiro means being confronted with his past all over again. Over and over, you begged him to go, to make sure both of them are doing alright.

“Didn’t I say no 100 times already?”, Sanemi grumbles behind you.

“Well, you said you hate me at least 100 times as well and still, I’m here”, you bite back.

Sanemi shifts his weight, his muscles tense behind your back. You know too well that this isn’t easy for him, that seeing Tanjiro means getting confronted with a part of his past he’s so eager to forget. But the Kamado family never gave up their hope, always keeps their doors open if Sanemi does decide on meeting them someday.

“That’s not the same, idiot.”

“Sanemi.”

You turn around and cup his face gently with both hands.

“Maybe you should pay him a visit. We didn’t see him in a long time.”

“Why would I care though? It’s not like I liked that kid at one point”, he barks back at you.

You let out your breath. Despite the fact that infinity castle made both of you softer, Sanemi still didn’t lose his stubbornness and attitude. Well, so did you.

“You wanna act like an asshole? Go ahead, then. I’ll leave tomorrow morning, with or without you.”

Without another word, you get up and make your way back into the house. How frustrating living with him can be. But still…The past is scarry, maybe even too much too bear. After today, you won’t speak up about visiting the Kamado family again.

-the next day-

“Nezuko!”

She doesn’t hear you. The girl with the wavy black hair tied into a knot, her tender eyes focused on the garden in front of her feet. How breathtakingly gorgeous she is, a true beauty just like back then.

“Nezuko!”, you cry out again, waving at her like an idiot.

Back then, she saved your life by almost sacrificing her own. Even though you weren’t as kind as the other hashiras, the Kamado family always stood by your side and believed in you. Seeing her so unbothered and happy forces a wave of tears up your eyes, makes your vision go foggy.

Thanks to your comrades, all of this is over now.

“(y/n)!”, the girl finally greets you while mindlessly dropping her sickle and dashing towards you.

“(y/n), is it really you? I can’t believe it!”, Nezuko breathes out.

“Yeah, the original”, you giggle.

She still wears the same patterns she did back then. But her eyes, they look so different. Nezuko really is fully human again. You can’t stop a single tear rolling down your eyes. And all of this, only due to the sacrifice of your friends.

“No, don’t you cry, (y/n)! Not when both of us should be happy”, Nezuko croaks out, a thin coat of tears now covering her very own eyes.

“Those are happy tears. I’m so sorry for not visiting you sooner, it’s just…”

Yes, what is it? Did you hesitate because Sanemi wasn’t ready, because he refused over and over to accompany you? No, you yourself needed that time to heal, to get over all the terror and suffering you’ve been through.

“You don’t have to apologize at all. After all, Tanjiro and I needed some time to adjust to this new life as well. Do you mind me asking how Shinazugawa-sama is?”

“Sanemi? He’s doing okay. But he isn’t ready yet…”

“Of course, I get that! But there’s no need to rush, right? After all, we now have plenty of time left”, Nezuko replies with that oh so gentle grin plastered onto her face.

“(y/n), is that you?”

Your heart skips a beat. Oh, you’d recognize that voice from everywhere with its unwavering optimism and tender undertones.

“Long time no see, Kamado Tanjiro.”

In the matter of seconds, you find yourself embraced into a tight hug, surrounded by nothing but the signature ichimatsu pattern that burned itself into your brain.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry for casually hugging you like this, (y/n)-sama!”, he adds in a haste, quickly letting go of you and bowing.

“I’m not a hashira anymore, Tanjiro. And both of us are equal. Well, now that I think of it, I should be the one who bows in front of you”, you contradict jokingly.

“It’s so nice to finally see you again! How are you?”

“I’m doing alright. Sanemi and I, we worked quite hard to renovate his estate after what happened. These past few months, we enjoyed watching the sunsets for the very first time in ages”, you explain briefly.

“I couldn’t believe my ears when I heard that the two of you married. It makes me beyond happy you found your luck, (y/n).”

“Don’t you dare making my wife cry, brat.”

Your eyes widen, heartbeat instantly picking up. You’d recognize that voice out of a thousand people. When you turn around, you get greeted by the annoyed expression of none other than your husband.

“Sanemi”, you breathe out.

Did he follow you? When did he decide on meeting the Kamado’s? You’ve been bugging him for ages, almost begging him to pay Tanjiro and Nezuko a visit.

And now he stands there, arms casually crossed in front of his chest.

“Shinazugawa-sama, what a honor-“

“Spare me with that bullshit”, Sanemi interrupts the boy immediately.

“Just tell me how you’re doing.”

Oh. Your eyes threaten to overfill with joy all over again, Sanemi’s arm now wrapped around your waist tightly. Just 2 years ago, you didn’t even think about the possibility to even like Sanemi, to look after the Kamado’s.

But this is your life now. Your oh so sweet life.

“You might have been right. Maybe this isn’t so bad after all”, Sanemi whispers into your ear.

“So, does that mean you finally don’t hate me anymore.”

“That’s a bit out of line, Kamado. You’re still a brat, after all.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine

[sistertotheknowitall]

Some guy finds Red Hood annoying.

Masterpost

All Danny wanted was one peaceful day. That was all. What does he get instead? A 6’ foot, jacked, vigilante crime lord. (Anti-hero, is that what he is? Danny wasn’t sure.) Now Danny’s not gonna say that a tall, built, hot as hell morally gray bad guy isn’t always unwelcome. It was just this one. (Unless, apparently, you’re Jazz. “Seriously?” “Look I don’t need saving but if he wants to come to my rescue, who am I to complain.”) They have gotten into many fights since Danny first moved to Gotham. ( He had chosen to live in a crime alley despite being able to afford slightly better. The money from his college fund was dumped entirely into said school and the money he earned went to bills and groceries.) Said screaming matches weren't even really fights; they were closer to the squabbles he’d get into with Jazz as an annoying way to express concern for each other. (A habit they, unfortunately, learned from their parents.) So having these types of arguments with said morally gray crime lord had Danny wondering if it was too late to cancel Jazz’s flight. (She boarded an hour ago.) He didn’t want them meeting, actually he’d like to keep her as far away as possible.

That’s why it was really inconvenient for these guys to kidnap him today. He had to get his sister from the airport and now he had to deal with Red Hood? Really? Other than Dickwing, Red Hood was the last person Danny wanted to see in a kidnapping situation. At least the others didn't make him feel like he was disappointing them. Only Jazz was allowed to make him feel the sting of disappointment at being reckless (and occasionally Sam and Tucker). Now, Danny thought he had decent common sense (“Shut up, Jazz.”), but he would gladly admit that he didn’t have Gotham common sense. He wasn’t afraid to go out at night just because the Riddler got out of Arkham. Honestly, he didn't see why he had to be afraid given any time of day. Danny was pretty sure he was basically immortal. (“Immortality is not dying and coming back as a full ghost.” “Then what would you call it, Jazz!?”) This seemed to frustrate Red Hood to no end as Danny lived in his part of the city and Danny was prone to finding trouble. (It actually seems to find him, Danny’s not actively going out and looking for it. He’s just trying to get on with his life.)

Anyway, yeah, Jazz was flying in for the weekend and somebody had kidnapped him. A perfectly normal Thursday. So, in perfectly normal Thursday fashion, Spoiler and Red Hood had swooped in while Danny was in the midst of a really intense staring contest with the kidnapper across from him. (“You know the staring is flattering when Tim does it but you make me feel icky.” The man didn't move and his hard stare barely wavered. “Alright, but I warn you I’m really good at this game.”) A flash of purple and the goon was no longer standing. Red Hood had come in guns blazing and made quick work of the other two kidnappers as Danny waited patiently to be untied. He could have phased through the chains he was hanging by but he didn't see a reason to. Just because they knew he could turn invisible didn’t mean they needed to know about everything else. (“That’s gaslighting, Danny.” “Technically, Sam, I think it’s lying by omission.” “Tucker.” “Right, not helping.”)

“Sooo,” Spoiler sang once Danny was free. “Who’s Tim?” You know what? Maybe it was Spoiler he should have been dreading. Red Hood made his way over, “yeah, kid, you got a boyfriend you didn’t tell us about?” Mm no, he regrets being in both their presence. Danny waved their questions away as he turned in a slow circle looking for the door. He wasn't quite sure of the time, but he was positive he was late to pick up Jazz. He answered as he made his way to the unconscious body of the guy who lost the staring contest, “a friend, well, a customer - a regular really. Nice guy, cute, has a staring problem.” Danny stooped down and started digging through the guys pockets, “do either of you know where the exit is?” Thankfully the guy was the one with his phone, he didn't want to search all the kidnappers. Turning it on, Danny saw that he was late and Jazz had already caught a taxi back to his place. The text had got increasingly more panicked the longer he hadn’t responded along with an alarming number of missed calls. 

Danny shot her a quick text as he followed Spoiler out of the building. Sorry, got kidnapped, am fine now. Please don't call. Will explain later. Love ya <3 He quickly added a selfie that Spoiler photo bombed over his shoulder holding up a peace sign. 

The screen immediately lit up with a facetime call. Danny turned it off and stuffed it in his pocket. He really didn't want Jazz meeting Red Hood.

He turned to face his “saviors.” “Okay, this has been fun. Thanks for the rescue, sorry I can’t stay and talk but I am needed elsewhere.” Throwing a quick salute he started down the street. After a block and a half he stopped at the opening of an ally. “You know I hate it when you all just stalk me from the shadows, it's very Babadook of you.” Hood appeared first behind Danny, “what's Babadook?” “A gay icon,” Spoiler drops in front of Danny. “Very true,” Danny high fives her as he hears Red Hood sigh, seeming to mutter to himself, “this is going in the folder.” “Okay,” Danny says, addressing both of them, “you don't need to walk me home.” Red Hood crossed his arms, “you’d rather your ‘Tom’ walk you?” Danny really really didn't want Jazz to meet Red Hood. Danny sighed, “His name is Tim and he’s just a friend and I’d rather nobody walked me home, I’m a fully capable adult.” “Capable huh? That’s what you call last week’s fiasco?” Last week’s fiasco being an incident that may or may not have involved a cult trying to sacrifice him. (He was insulted that they were trying to sacrifice him to a low level demon. He was the king of the infinite realms and they were using him to summon Craig? Really? Not that they knew any of this but still. Rude.) Spoiler placed her forearm on Danny’s shoulder to lean, as if he wasn't a few inches taller then her. “Not to mention tonight's kidnapping.” Danny shrugged her off. “And you two saved me,” he started slowly backing away into the alley behind him, “so, danger avoided.” Red Hood's hand shot out and grabbed Danny by the back of his shirt collar, “uh-uh, you're not pulling the disappearing act tonight.” Danny had indeed been intending to disappear and fly home, now he was being scuffed like a kitten. In hindsight he had pulled that move fairly often with Hood. Crossing his legs Danny refused to be set down on his feet so Red Hood dropped him. “Ow!”One peaceful day, was that too much? (Luckly, they didnt follow him into his building and just watched him enter. Unluckily, he had a worried and very annoyed older sister to face.) (“A selfie, Danny?! Really!?” “I wanted to assure you it was really me!”)

Part 7