#the salesman x y/n

[dearest-painter]

I need a oneshot of Lucifer fucking tired of child demon weed salesman! reader and child Alastor nonsense and went back to hell and go to his bed with his face buried in the pillow and questioning himself why he bother to take care of them and realized he start to care for them alot.

I GOT YA BROSKI!

TW/CW:The kids almost kill a dude, that’s all

Summary: Apparently the devil himself can care for those who aren’t his wife or daughter! Who knew that!?

Lucifer groaned as he walked inside his ‘house’. Today he to deal with those two little demons causing chaos! They almost got him in trouble by almost throwing that man off his balcony. How did they even get up there!? He laid on his bed as he screamed into his pillow, he felt so childish for doing this but he needed to get his anger out somehow!

Lucifer rolled onto his back as he stared at the ceiling. “Stupid fucking kids….always making my life worse….fuckers could’ve gotten hurt! One wrong move and they would’ve went down with the man!” Lucifer stated to himself as he sighed and rubbed his face. He stopped as he finally realized what he said. Why..was he worried that they would’ve gotten hurt?

He usually never cares for that unless…unless they actually matter and mean something to him. He suddenly sat up. “Fuck! I care for those little things!” He stated as he looked at himself in the mirror, eyes widen. He usually doesn’t care for most people but those two…those two kids now mean something to him..and he doesn’t want them to get hurt.

[whorror-barbie]

A good lesson in fucking (au! Virgin! Ceo! The Salesman x Bimbo! sugar baby! Fem! Reader) (part 1)

general series summary: you find out your sugar daddy is a virgin and you would love to help him explore his sexual desires

Warnings: nothing explicit at this time, maybe some suggestive language and sexual themes. this fic is 18+, so you've been warned.

A/n: I just wanted to write about an older handsome man whose a virgin( so literally a 40 year-old virgin lol) and btw I'm giving him the name Seok-woo again, so I'm not always calling him the salesman, so I hope that's fine with y'all. Enjoy :)

P.s: I have an AO3 account under the name whorrorwritings, part 2 will be up on there by the time I post this part on here, if you can't wait head over there and read it if you want to!

"Wait, you're going over to his house?! You don't even know him" that is the sound of your distressed friend on the other side of the phone.

" Oh, will you stop worrying. He seems like such a nice guy " you open up a pretty pink box to see a really cute yet sophisticated dress. "Honey, just because he buys you stuff, doesn't mean he's a nice guy." She tries to reason with you as you're trying on the dress he wanted you to wear for the meetup, It hugs your curves beautifully as you look at yourself in the mirror. " I mean, you told me you don't even know his name or what he looks like, what if he's a serial killer..you never know" she continues and let out a sigh as you're still smiling.

"Look, I get your concerns, but I'll be fine, and besides it doesn't hurt to meet the guy who financially supported me for 6 months when I was settling here" you do not really understand why she's so worried. sure she has a point, he's seen only ever seen you and your body online multiple times, but don't know a thing about him. Finally, you hear her sigh coming from the other side of the line. "I know you're not going to listen, but please be safe and text me if you need anything, I'll be there so fast I swear" you giggle at your worried friend. " I'll keep you posted, I'll talk to you later, bye, " you say cheerfully and you both hang up. You are fully ready, now it's time to leave for your date.

30 minutes later, you arrive at his beautiful home by a car he sent out for you. Looking around and starting to approach the home, you're regretting this with every heartbeat as you walk closer. what if your friend is right? What if he does murder you? There is no turning back now. you ring the doorbell anyways, waiting until you are greeted by a tall, handsome man at the door.

"hey, miss it's finally nice to meet you," he says so kindly, you look into his eyes and it was love at first. You were not expecting this gorgeous man to be your sugar daddy, but you definitely were not complaining at all. In a matter of seconds, you were already planning a wedding, and having a family with this man "are you ok?" You look up at him "oh sorry" as you enter his home.

Inside his home is beautifully furnished and spacious, but that is to be excepted from a rich CEO. "I must say you're as gorgeous in person." he says with a bit of nervousness in his voice as he's scratching the back of his head "oh, why thank and you're quite a handsome gentleman." You giggle slightly which makes him arrange his tie at your response, he seems to be feeling hot?

" by the way... my name is Seok-Woo... I don't think I ever told you my name before..umm ever" he laughs nervously. "Oh, Seok-Woo? what a nice name." You smile brightly. The two of you are just standing there in awkward silence for a minute as you look up at him with your pretty eyes, and he starts to look around out of nervousness.

"so..um did you eat anything yet? I can umm. set something up" he asked you politely. " Oh, sure I can go for a snack" nodding at him. "Ok, I'll be right back then" he bows slightly then heads into his kitchen.

While he's doing that, you start to wander around his house looking at the beautiful paintings that hang on the walls, taking in his decor. making your own journey around his house until you see a door slightly open to a room, begging for someone to enter it. The curiosity is killing you, so you go inside to check it out.

upon entering, you see nothing but a bunch of half-naked anime figurines on his shelf against each corner of his walls, and you look in awe "wow, what a cute doll" you let out a ditzy laugh, holding one of the figurines in your hand as you inspect it ''wow, she's very curvy" tilting your head then look at your own body." what else does he have in here?'' you proceeds to look around when you spot a stack of hentai mangas and so you pick it up to read the title.

"Super big titty sluts xxx" you say out loud to yourself then open up the book to flip the pages, and you see some very lewd images which makes your face feel like it's on fire, it was nothing but big titties everywhere, and dicks going in every hole. "The pages are stuck together? I wonder why?" As you try to continue to read the manga, figuring out the storyline.

"Hey! Why are you in here?" You jump so hard, dropping his manga and figurine in the process " Oh my god, I'm sorry! I was just waiting..and and I.." your face still feels so hot at what you saw. Wow, he's into some freaky stuff you thought. when he sees you drop his figurine, he wanted to lose it on you, but he remains calm. those figurines are his prize possessions, he's paid a pretty penny for all of them.

"Oh, well... please don't do this again." He says softly as he goes over to pick up his figurine and carefully places it back on the shelf, he looks over her to make sure you didn't mark her up " Umm.. so you want to watch a movie together?" his attention on you now, nodding your head yes as you leave out of his very interesting room.

😳

10 minutes into this suspense drama, it's pretty good so far. You start moving your body closer to his to rest your head on his shoulder. You can feel him put his arm around your arm awkwardly in response. You sigh of relief, looking up at him into his eyes, but he looks away fast.

"Are you enjoying this movie, babes?" You giggle as you feel him trying not to look down at your cleavage . " Umm...yeah..it's good.. how about you? do you like the film?'' He asks, trying to focus his attention on the movie. " I mean it's definitely interesting, but I'm more interested in you, Seok-Woo" he can feel himself getting hard at your voice alone, you're as sexy as the women he sees in the hentai on his computer screen every night.

"how about this?" You straddle his lap, facing him. you're feeling his boner twitching in his dress pants" oh wow, I can feel how big you are, impressive." you giggle with the motion of your boobs jiggling and he looks nervous, though he is enjoying the view. "How about we have some fun? I at least owe you for taking care of me" You wink at him then proceed to kiss on the crook of his neck as you grab his hands so he feels up your ass, but he doesn't squeeze it. you're grinding on him and moaning like a needy whore into his neck. Seok-Woo's eyes are closed while grunting under his breath, focusing on feeling your pussy lips with his tip. this is the perfect scenario that he's been dreaming about, he might cum from this alone.

You reach for his belt to remove it, but his hand stops you in mid-motion. Surprised, you look up at him and his facial expression is reading regret it seems "Stop, Hun" he says out of breath. " Not now" he looks down. Feeling confused, but You get off of him, and sit back down on the couch, this is very awkward now. "I'm really sorry, Seok-Woo...I hope I didn't offend you" did you read the room wrong? Is he not into you like you thought he was.

"you should leave" he simply says which was another dagger to your heart. grabbing your purse as you get up to leave and he follows you to the door. "Text me to let me know that you got home safely... and oh I'll be wiring your weekly allowance to your account tomorrow, have a good night," he says then shuts the door in your face, not giving you a second to respond.

Tears start to stream down your face. You're feeling horrible and embarrassed. that's when your Phone is ringing off in your purse so you check to see that it's your friend, Hong-Ga young again, so you pick it up.

"Oh thank God, he didn't murder you," she says but then she hears you sniffling. "Oh..what's the matter? Are you alright?" Her voice sounds very worried, and you try to keep your composure. " Yeah, I'm ok, Ummm can you pick me up?" You wipe away the tears with your sleeve. " Of course! I'll be there in a second" she says hastily. Both of you say your byes then hang up the phone.

While you are chilling on his steps with your morbid thoughts clouding your mind. a big raindrop falls on your knee, and out of nowhere rain starts to violently poor down. With no umbrella in sight, you're all drenched now, can this night get any worse? You just need to bundle up in a blanket and forget about this night that ever happened, hoping everything will be better tomorrow.

[angel5ofp0rn]

Young!Price x f!younger!reader

where u and ExHusband!Price first meet 🤭

TW (?) age gap. legal (21&30-something), but still an age gap

got a lil lazy at the end; just a dash of secks

“Jus’ one more.” You giggle to your friends, making your way through the crowd and over to the bar.

Another one more.

The bartender shakes his head when you approach.

For the fourth time.

“What’ll it be this time, kid?”

“Dunno,” You shrug animatedly. You giggle again, your cheeks warm from the alcohol. “How about…”

You turn to one of the men sitting at the bar.

“What’re you drinking?” You point a manicured finger at a tall, balaclava-wearing man with dark eyes.

He glances towards you for just a moment before looking straight ahead again, mumbling a “whiskey” under his breath.

“Eww.” You scrunch your nose. “No, not that.”

You lean over a bit, hands on the bar, looking past the scary masked man and to the man next to him.

The… gorgeous, blue eyed, clean shaven man next to him.

“What’re- whoa.” Your eyes widen for a moment. “You’re, like… whoa.”

The man exhales a small, slightly amused chortle.

“Would you, like, ‘scuse us?” You ask the scarier man.

He stares you down for a moment.

You blink, waiting for him to move.

“F’r fuck’s sake…” The big guy grumbles, standing up from the barstool and disappearing somewhere in the bar.

You happily hop onto the stool once he’s gone.

You extend your arm to the gorgeous man, your tipsiness making you more fearless than usual.

“Hi. It’s m’birthday.”

“Is it, now?” His smooth, English voice drawls out as he shakes your hand.

“Mhm!” You nod, your grin growing.

The man nods, seemingly amused with your young, drunk self.

“Are you, like, an army guy or something?” You ask, glancing up and down at him in his fatigues.

He snorts.

“I am an army guy or something.” He confirms. “John Price.”

“John Price…” You tilt your head to the side, your long hair falling over your exposed shoulder in that tiny going out top you decided to wear.

“Price is cute. Y/N Price sounds good, right?” You ask aloud, not really to anyone in particular.

“Already planning on taking my last name, are you?” He raises his eyebrows at you, entertained by all of this.

Women come up to him all the time. Can’t really go anywhere without a few flirting with him, batting their eyelashes, playing coy about how badly they want to fuck a man in uniform.

But they’re never this bold.

Usually not this young, either.

You’re a good ten years younger than him, at least; the hell do you want with him?

“Y’know,” You continue, ignoring his question. “You have the prettiest blue eyes I’ve ever seen.”

He smirks.

“Y/N!” Your girl friend calls out, waving you over to her from across the room. “Let’s go dance!”

“Oh!” You grab John’s bicep. “I love dancing. Come dance with us!”

John shakes his head, dismissing the idea.

“Don’t dance.” He takes a swig of his beer. “But, eh… Kyle here-“ He pats the shoulder of another, younger, man on the right side of him. “-Kyle likes to dance. Don’t ya, Gaz?”

“I don’ wanna dance with him.” You shake your head with a frown.

“He’s a handsome young lad.” John continues talking up his buddy as if he’s a car salesman trying to sell you the Buick. “Why don’t you-“

You cut him off, rolling your eyes as if that was the dumbest suggestion you’ve ever heard.

“What’f I dance with Kyle and he r’lly likes me?” You slur a bit.

Kyle grins.

John snorts.

“Then he likes ya.”

“No!” You groan.

Drunken you really resembles a fussy toddler.

“I don’ want Kyle’s babies, I want your babies.”

John laughs.

Kyle chokes on his drink.

“You wanna have my babies, eh?”

“Uh-huh.” You nod confidently. “I wan’ a hundred blue-eyed babies tha’ look Just. Like. You.” You poke his chest in sync with the last three words.

John raises his eyebrow at that, taking another sip of his beer.

Your friends pull you to the dance floor by your arm.

You stumble off with them, looking back at John Price and what’s-his-name.

The men don't even glance back at you once you're gone.

They just laugh it off and continue chatting.

But you? You're not giving up that easily.

You let yourself be distracted for a while; dancing, shots, bathroom selfies, whatever.

But when you see John standing up from the bar, slapping some cash down for the bartender and heading towards the exit; you follow.

"John!" You grin, arms outstretched for a hug once you meet him in the parking lot.

"Christ, you're persistent, aren't ya?" John rubs his hand over his jaw.

Your arms hook around his neck, stumbling into him. He places his hands on your waist, steadying you so you don't completely fall.

“Can’t help it,” you sigh. “I go after what I want.”

You tilt your head back to see those crystal blues that made you talk to him in the first place.

John takes a step back, gently disentangling himself from your embrace. His expression is a mix of amusement and something else…

Perhaps a hint of concern.

That’s fair; you’ve just drunkenly followed a strange man outside at night.

"You're a bit too young for me, sweetheart," he says softly. "I think you should go back inside and enjoy the rest of your birthday with your friends."

"But I like you," you protest, your arms crossing over your chest.

He sighs, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I appreciate the sentiment, love, but it's best if you forget about me. I'm not the right guy for ya."

Your lower lip juts out. A proper pout.

“Ah, c’mon. Don’t give me that.” John chortles, crossing his own arms over his chest now. “Look, this isn’t what you want. Tomorrow mornin’… you’re gonna wake up without a single thought of me in your pretty li’l head.”

“You think I’m pretty?” You ask, missing the point completely.

John looks as if he could laugh, but he doesn’t.

“I do.” John nods curtly. “I think you’re fuckin’ beautiful… but you’ve had too much to drink, haven’t you? Why don’t you let me get you an Uber, at least. Make sure ya get some safe ‘n sound.”

You reluctantly accept his offer, standing by his side as the two of you wait for your rides.

Ride.

Because you might as well share one, right?

And once you get to your place, he might as well walk you up.

You’d just be plain rude if you didn’t invite him in; he’d be a jerk if he didn’t accept the invitation.

Sure, he’ll help you remove your heels, but then he really should get going.

But then your hand touches his face when his head is near your knees.

He looks up. You rub your thumb over his jaw.

“Look-“

“‘m jus’ looking at you.”

He really, really should get going.

“Stay with me.” You beg.

“I can’t stay with you, love. I’ve gotta go now.”

He pulls the covers over you, brushes the hair away from your face, he has you text your friends to let them know you’re okay, and he’s gone…

…until the next morning, when he knocks on your door bright and early because, wouldn’t you know it, he accidentally took your phone home and he’s here to return it.

(He totally didn’t pocket it so he’d have an excuse to see you again.)

Since you’re both awake and have no plans, you might as well go to breakfast, right?

“I’m not going anywhere.” You groan, rubbing your puffy eyes.

“Go on. Get showered.” He sits on your sofa, hands folded behind his head. “I’ll wait.”

You didn’t even make it to breakfast.

Ended up having him pull over behind some trees along the way, straddling him in the driver’s seat, bouncing on his thick cock while he murmured praises about how well you’re taking him.

<< prev next >>

[ghouldump]

God Complex | Lestat x Reader x Louis

ෆ you want out, realizing your little family isn’t as perfect as you thought, but they would never let you slip away so easily.

i definitely went overboard 😅

“Lestat, you don’t have to do this,” Louis stressed.

“She has to learn, it’s either this, or we are exposed,” Lestat said, shutting the coffin. Under the pebbles you laid, crying, begging for forgiveness. Despite your attempts to break free, the coffin wouldn’t budge.

“Louis, please, Lestat, I’m sorry,” you screamed, your voice falling on deaf ears, as he shut the door of the basement, leaving you alone at the bottom of the townhouse.

“Neither of you are to let her out, a few days will teach her a needed lesson,” he pointed at the two. Louis looked distressed, knowing his companion was right, despite his desire to argue. While Claudia frowned, saddened by your cries, but knew better than to go against her father’s words.

“I’m sorry,” you kept crying. If only you could take it back. This was your second time acting so careless, and you knew better than to think Lestat would let you do this a third.

From the moment Lestat turned you, you were a wildflower. He loved how animalistic you became, while Louis enjoyed how sweet you remained. Claudia was happy to finally have someone new in their lives, other than the two.

You were exceptional at hunting, and Lestat became lenient, oftentimes letting you wander. You’d find your meal, and quickly and efficiently discard the mess. However, when the arrogant salesman came into the bar, speaking to everyone as if they were beneath him, your tongue tingled at the sight.

The thought of him submitting and begging for mercy turned you on beyond comprehension. Biting your lip, you stood, approaching him, intentionally bumping his shoulder. His hand went to your waist, as he began to apologize, while his eyes not so discreetly roamed.

“Garret Anderson, darling,” he introduced, as you shook his hand.

“Hi,” you smiled, mischievously.

“Not him, choose someone else,” you heard Louis’s voice. Usually, you’d listen, but you couldn’t this time, not when the smell of his blood made you feel feral in the best way.

“Would you like to dance-

“Come with me,” you ignored him, grabbing his hand to pull him out of the establishment. He grinned, thinking he had won a prize when he was walking straight into the trap.

Pushing him into the dim alley, you slipped your tongue into his mouth, pressing your body against his own.

“Oh, I don’t think I got your name”

“You don’t worry about my name, sugar, just focus on my voice,” you told him, as he looked into your eyes.

“Ok,” he nodded, hypnotized.

“Y/n, Lestat doesn’t want you to choose him,” Claudia said, as you bare your teeth.

“It’s too late,” you spoke, biting his neck, drinking his life away.

“Please,” you heard him inaudible beg, his grip loosening from your arm, as his form began to weaken.

“What part of not him did you not understand?” Lestat asked, snappily, standing behind you, as you released the man, watching his corpse sink to the wet ground.

“Was I supposed to play with my food?” You pouted, the action usually worked, but this time he kept the harsh gaze.

“This man is related to Tom Anderson and the last person he has been seen with, was you,” he said angrily.

“I didn't know, and I always clean up after myself,” you defended.

“That isn’t the point, you get the order to choose another and you still chose to disobey, putting all of our lives at risk, again,” Lestat said, trying to keep his composure, feeling himself about to yell.

“We can talk about this when we get home, Claudia and I will clean up,” Louis said, hoping to de-escalate the situation.

However, after the body was burned, Lestat continued to yell, before deciding to bury you in the rock-filled coffin, as a punishment. 

You weren’t sure how long you were locked away, starving. It could have only been days, but on an empty stomach, it felt like weeks. You cried for too many hours, begging, trying to communicate with Louis and Claudia - but no one ever came. No one would come, you’d be left here to starve to death until Lestat was ready to release you.

You began to dream, imagining yourself on all kinds of adventures. Traveling to different countries, tasting the different people, none of which Lestat planned on doing soon. He made the rules and you all went along, occasionally finding compromise. Finally, after what felt like forever, the coffin was opened.

Louis worriedly pulled you out, Claudia dusting the rocks off of you. Lestat didn’t say a word, standing behind the two, watching as they tended to you. Slowly approaching you, he placed his hand under you jaw, making you look up.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” he said, before making his way upstairs.

“Y/n,” you jumped, snapping out of the trance as Louis opened the coffin, holding his hand out for you to grab.

“Sorry,” you smiled sheepishly, as he grinned, helping you out.

“It’s alright, why don’t you get dressed, and we’ll be waiting on you,” he winked, leaving you to change.

As you made your way down the stairs, you kept your eyes down, feeling his gaze.

Claudia was first to swing the door open, excitedly skipping out of the house - Louis not too far behind. Gulping, you went to follow him, when Lestat grabbed your waist, stopping you.

“You look nice, ma chèrie,” he complimented.

“Thank you,” you smiled, rushing to join Louis.

You didn’t wander, staying close with the group, choosing the easiest target. You’d always preferred your meal flamboyant, the loudest in the room always had the sweetest blood. However, you were too afraid to upset Lestat, ending up in the cramped coffin again.

Cleaning your mouth, you sat on one of the many benches in the park. You were still hungry, starving actually. The pathetic excuse of a human was no where near filling. As Lestat and Louis approached, their meals close behind like lambs being led to the slaughter, you got up.

Entering the house, you were about to follow Claudia upstairs, when Lestat grabbed your hand, leading you back down.

“I want you to be more vigilant about prey, not neglect and starve yourself, come, we have a plus one,” he told you, before announcing to the trio of men you’d be joining them.

“Do you think there is more to life than New Orleans?” You asked your coworker, Carol.

“I ain’t got time to think about that Y/n, I’m 24 and already a widow with an infant,” she huffed, wiping the table.

Opening your eyes you stared up at the coffin, trying to think back. You didn’t remember too much about your mortal life, not even your family. You worked at a bar when you met Louis and Lestat, both incredibly charming. You were interesting to them, this wasn’t anything new for Lestat, he had no problem admiring multiple people. Louis on the other hand, was surprised by his interest. You were easy on the eyes with the kindest soul, lighting up the room with your presence.

You ended up getting pneumonia and despite taking the needed medication, you began to succumb. On the brink of death, you saw him, was he a god? angel of death? You didn’t know, tiredly watching as the two men exchanged words of agreement, before he lifted you, biting your neck.

You remembered the agony, throwing up as your body rejected your soul, killing itself. Louis carried you, while Lestat led the way, and the rest of your memory was gone.

Opening your coffin, you looked around the room, each side of you was a black coffin, empty. Noticing the small note on Lestat’s as you climbed out.

‘Louis and I have business to attend to this evening, I trust you will hunt with Claudia, ma chèrie’ - L

Sitting the letter down, you walked down the stairs. Knowing Claudia, she had already left. Slipping on your shoes you began to walk the streets. The memories replayed in the back of your mind, as your feet aimlessly moved. Recognizing your surroundings, you slowed down, staring into the bar you’d plucked the Anderson relative from.

Suddenly, someone bumped your shoulder, catching your attention. An older woman, holding shopping bags.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry-Y/n?” You were stuck like a dear caught in headlights.

“God has brought my baby home, don’t just stand there and give your mama a hug,” she sat the bags down, as you cautiously approached, letting her tightly wrap her arms around you.

You were thankful for the times you practiced restraint and self control. It had been nearly three years of being a vampire, stuck at 26 and you grew better and better at controlling your urges around mortals, despite the occasional slip ups.

“Mama?”

“Oh baby, I knew you’d come back eventually, how was New York?” She asked, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“New York?” You questioned, confused.

“Why don’t you come home, just for tonight?” She asked, hopeful. Slowly you nodded, letting her lead you to her car, handing the bags to her driver, you sat in the back seat next to her. Looking around, you hoped your surroundings would seem familiar but you had no clue where you were headed. After nearly fifteen minutes of driving, and your mother gushing about how much you were missed, the car began to slow down.

As the large house came into view, you frowned, unable to remember living there. The driver parked, and the front door opened.

“Did you get-Y/n? Y/n is back,” the younger boy who was exiting the house stopped, jumping for joy, screaming inside. A few more people came out, a familiar face catching your attention.

“Y/n,” the woman screamed, running to you, colliding into you, as she wrapped her arms around your waist.

“Carol, can you make sure Y/n is made comfortable,” your mother asked.

“Of course, mama,” she nodded, grabbing your hands, leading you into the house.

“What’s with your eyes?”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” she let it go, as you stopped near the stairs, seeing all of the portraits. Family portraits. You stood amongst them, in the photos, even a painted portrait of yourself, along with your siblings.

“Daddy is going to be very happy to see you,” she smiled, pulling you up the stairs to a bedroom.

“Where is he?” You asked, eyeing the room before you sat next to her on the bed.

“At the sugar mill, duh, you know he’s a workaholic,” she laughed, before sitting up.

“So how have you been? The last time I saw you, you were going on and on about that De Pointe Du Lac,” she smirked, biting her lip.

“I’m fine, Louis is fine,” you nodded.

“My god, you married him? I hear he has a popular business in the quarter-

“No, we have a…companionship, if that makes sense,” you mumbled, as she raised her eyebrows.

“Oh? That’s nice-

“Daddy’s home,” the younger boy burst into the room, his eyes focused on you.

Standing up, you followed Carol from the room, down the stairs. Seeing the men and women standing downstairs, you stared plainly. These were your siblings and yet you couldn’t remember or feel a thing.

“It’s good to see you,” the man, your brother, smiled, pulling you into a side hug before you followed them into the dining room.

Your father sat already, at the head of the table. Turning to face you, he stood up, you could hear his heart pounding, trembling. Slowly approaching you, you spoke up.

“Daddy,” you tried to sound as normal as possible, when he slung his arms around you. He began to cry, while you listened in on his thoughts. You were his favorite.

“You two come sit, stop crying before I start too,” your mother laughed, as your father pulled away in agreement.

“So how was New York?”

“Yeah and why didn’t you say goodbye, like you send a letter and disappear for three years,” your younger sister interrupted.

“Deloris, stop it, I’m sure Y/n wanted to stop by but couldn’t,” your mother interjected.

“I-New York was fine, very beautiful,” you said, accepting one of the many bowls of food being passed along. Taking a small piece of meat, you sat it on your nearly empty plate.

“You came just in time for Joseph’s engagement, he’s met a fine young lady from Gretna, Sarah, she’ll be here in a few days,” your mother pointed at your brother.

“Finally, he’s nearly 30 and we never thought he’d get married,” your younger brother said, making everyone laugh.

“Congratulations,” you told Joseph.

“Thank you, and have you married, or are you with someone?”

“I have companions,” you smiled, nervously.

“Multiple?” Your father asked, stunned.

“One of them is Louis,” Carol clapped.

“The De Point Du Lac? I hear he lives with that French man-

“Lestat De Lioncourt, god to be under him for a night”

“Deloris, watch your mouth”

“Sorry”

“You managed to stay in contact with him, but couldn’t reach out to your family?” Your father spoke, a saddened expression.

“It’s complicated,” you mumbled.

“You don’t think it’s a bit…scandalous to have two lovers, who is the other?” your mother asked.

“Lestat,” you said, clearing your throat, bracing yourself as nearly everyone gasped.

“Lucky,” Deloris snickered.

‘Y/n, where are you?’ You heard Clauia’s voice, but you didn’t respond.

“Y/n, please tell me you're joking,” your father shook his head.

“I don’t think this is a laughing matter,” you said, straightening your posture.

‘Y/n, where are you at?’ Louis asked, making you clinch your jaw.

“You kept in contact with those peculiar men, but it never crossed your mind to come home,” he slightly raised his voice.

“I said it was complicated,” you screamed over him, stabbing the fork into the meat, breaking the plate, before standing up, going to storm out of the house.

“Y/n, wait,” your mother chased you, stopping you before you could leave.

“I’m sorry I came here,” you apologized.

“No no, everyone is handling you being home differently, stay, you can go up to your room, here, I have something for you,” she reached for your cold hand, her warm thumb brushing over your veins. Leading you upstairs in the room, she went to the nightstand, pulled out a diary, handing it to you.

“I kept it, in case you ever came home, and I made sure no one read it,” she smiled sadly, kissing your forehead before she turned to leave.

‘Ma chèrie, enough of this, come home’ Lestat said. You knew they were probably worried, for him to also use his powers to reach out to you.

‘I won’t be home tonight,’ you spoke, sending the message.

“Did you say something, honey?” Your mother stopped, turning to face you.

“No, ma’am,” you shook your head, watching as she exited the room.

Opening the book, your fingers traced down the words, the minor annotations, and little drawings on the side. You could still hear your vampire family faintly in your head when the room door opened.

“Hey, Daddy is sorry, he’s too ashamed of how he acted to face you right now, but I’m just letting you know, that Joseph, Antony, and Loretta left,” Carol spoke.

“Ok,” you chuckled.

“Also, I apologize in advance for the noise, Frankie is coming home soon and he is still a handful,” she laughed.

“Frankie?”

“Yes and he is going to be so excited to see his favorite Aunt,” she said, before shutting the door.

Closing the curtain, grabbing a pillow, and climbing under the bed, you read the diary. Entry to entry, you consumed the thoughts of your former self, your heart growing more confused as you began to remember. By the time you finished, Claudia and Louis became silent while the sun was peeking into the room.

Slamming the book shut, your mind ran wild, questioning everything you thought you’d known. Your nails digging into the floor. Feeling the bloody tear slip down your eye, you quickly wiped it, as a you heard a soft knock.

“Y/n? Y/n?” Your mother called out, a bit of panic in her voice.

“I’m under here,” you called out, waving from under the bed.

Lifting her dress, she moved to the floor, her eyes widening seeing you.

“What are you doing under here, honey?” She asked.

“I…I recently was diagnosed with a disease, my skin doesn’t react well in the sun anymore, burning, irritation, the doctor says I should avoid it altogether,” you said, almost feeling guilty for lying, hearing how much it saddened her thoughts.

“I see, give me a few hours and I’ll make sure things are more comfortable around here, you try to get some sleep, love you”

“I love you too,” you said, watching as she left the room.

‘Y/n, please tell me you are okay, we can’t sleep’ you heard Louis’s voice.

‘I am fine’

‘Where are you?’

‘That is none of any of your concerns’

‘Don’t be like that, what's the matter-

You shut your eyes, blocking out Louis’ voice, taking deep breaths, you thought about the words from the diary, as the sleep passed over you.

‘Mama and daddy have been arguing as of lately. I’m 25 with no boyfriend or engagement, still living with them. Daddy doesn’t see a problem with it, I have more time to find the perfect husband he argues, while Mama thinks I’m not even looking. I haven’t been, but that’s because as special as New Orleans is, no one seems special enough to catch my attention. Since the issue has come up, I’ve found myself with Carol more. She is trying to find a new husband, a new father for Frankie, since his dad died in the Navy’

“All of the bachelors come here, you just might find yourself a treat,” Carol giggled, as the two of you sat at the table. The fancy restaurant in the French Quarter wasn’t too interesting to you. You were already wealthy, and guaranteed quite the inheritance, while all of the women stood around, almost looking as if they were waiting on their lottery ticket.

“Do you ever wonder if there is more to life, than New Orleans?” You asked her boredly, as she made eye contact with the banker, waving at him.

“I ain’t got time to think about that Y/n, I’m 24 and already a widow with an infant,” she told you, standing, before walking to the man, sure to sway her hips, reeking of seduction.

Now alone, you sipped your wine, leaning back in your seat. The few men who looked your way eventually backed away, as you kept a scowl on your face.

“If you keep your face like that, it might get stuck,” you heard, making you turn to face the crèole man.

“If only I could see the appeal of this restaurant, then I wouldn’t frown,” you told him, as he sat down.

“I agree, everything is so tasteless and looks so-

“Cheap,” you and the blonde-haired man said at the same time, making you smile.

“I’m Y/n,” you held out your hand.

“Louis de Pointe du Lac,” he accepted your hand, his thumb brushing against your knuckles.

“And you, do you have a name?”

“Lestat De Lioncourt,” he said, taking your hand from Louis, kissing your knuckles.

“Would you like to get out of here?” Louis started.

“Sorry boys, I hope you didn’t think I was that easy,” you pouted, laughing as Carol approached.

“You ready to go?” You asked, seeing the look of disappointment on her face.

“Yeah,” she said, crossing her arms.

“It was wonderful to meet you both, goodbye”, you told them, standing up, and walking with Carol back to the car. Looking back, your eyes met theirs once more before you were on your way.

‘Lestat and Louis, there had been plenty of rumors that the two were lovers, even I was sure they were. However, they continued to reach out, inviting me to spend time with them. Carol’s friend, Lucy, thinks they might be competing to win my hand in marriage, but I think it’s far from that.’

“Mr. De Lioncourt hasn’t taken his eyes off of you all night,” Lucy bumped your shoulder, as you stood amongst the women. You were trying to not be “shameless” keeping your contact with Lestat and Louis to a minimum. However, their eyes had been glued on you from the moment you entered the party, and they weren’t even hiding it.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” one of the women rolled her eyes, perking up, as they approached.

“Ma chèrie, you never responded to our letter,” Lestat told you, as you stared at the two of them surprised but confused.

“With your flowers,” Louis said, as you gasped.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice a note with them, they are in my room, I’ll look when I’m home”

“Please do, we’re dying to know your response,” he told you, slinging his arm around Louis as they walked away. All of the women frowning in jealousy, while Carol laughed at them.

‘They are together, Lestat and Louis are together, but they like the idea of sharing? After a night of passion, I think it’s best that I stay away from the fabulously handsome men. I could never explain what happened to anyone without being judged, and so I will keep it to myself. They have been trying to reach out, but I am throwing every letter away. I hope they can understand.’

“I’m assuming you’re not a party girl?” Louis asked you, making you jump, swiftly turning around.

“This kind of party isn’t my thing, all of these people, hoping to get on my father’s good side, it's pathetic,” you crossed your arms, as he approached.

“How did you find where I was?” You asked him, tilting your head. You were hidden in your mother’s miniature hedge maze, sure no one would find you.

“I followed your scent, you always smell nice,” he grinned, while you rocked back and forth on your heels.

“You shouldn’t have followed me, what if I was a monster? luring you away from everyone,” you smirked at him.

“Trust me, you wouldn’t be the monster”

“Why do you think that?” You squinted at him, making him laugh.

“You’re too cute, too precious, you should be more careful, you could’ve been being followed by a big bad wolf,” he taunted.

“I can defend myself perfectly fine”

“Is that right?”

“Of course,” you smiled, watching as he leaned forward, his lips pressing against your own. Wrapping his arm around your waist, you moaned, before he pulled away.

Gasping, you noticed Lestat standing only feet away. Taking his usual confident strides, he stopped in front of Louis, the two sharing a passionate kiss. As the kiss broke off, he walked around to you, his hand softly going to the back of your neck, before he pulled you into a kiss.

“Be our companion…”

“Our’s alone…”

“Ok,” you agreed, not understanding at the time, the situation you'd put yourself in.

Standing in front and behind you, they took turns, kissing from your neck to mouth, slowly removing the articles of clothing. By the time you were finished, they laid in the grass, smiling, praising you, while you hurriedly dressed.

“I have to go,” you told them, running away, your hand going to your neck, where a bite mark resided.

‘My intuition was wrong about the two, Lestat and Louis are dangerous. Lestat seemed possessive, he didn’t like the idea of me entertaining another man besides him or Louis. But Louis, he seemed convinced I was perfect with the two of them, they both just seemed delusional. I recently caught the pneumonia virus and I’m trying to heal, and get over the fact that I was sick for my birthday but their constant sending of gifts isn’t making me feel any better.’

“Y/n, honey,” your mother called out, making you open your eyes.

“Yes?”

“It is safe to come out,” she said, as you slowly made your way out, noticing the windows covered by a board.

Leading you down the stairs, you felt uncomfortable seeing your siblings stare at you like an animal in zoo.

“Mama told us about your skin condition, I’m sorry, I-we can have the engagement at night,” Joseph offered.

“I couldn’t do that to you-

“It would be a pleasure, I want you there, and Sarah won’t mind, she’ll be here tomorrow”

“Then I’d love that,” you smiled, nodding.

“Wonderful, I have something you can wear,” your mother clapped.

“I was hoping I could talk to you, about something,” you told your mother, as she sat on the sofa.

“Okay, what’s on your mind?”

“Do you remember when I was sick, with the pneumonia?”

“Yes”

“When I was staying in the hospital-

“Hospital? You didn’t stay in a hospital, you were in your room. We were so worried, when you first caught it, but your body fought hard, you were better in no time,” she said, her hand on her heart.

“How long was I here before I left, for New York? Reading the diary has my brain a little foggy,” you told her.

“Only a few days after, I believe, before you left your letter,” she said, looking away at the memory.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, trying to remember what happened. The fuzzy memory slightly coming back.

“It’s okay, honey, you’re here now,” she waved.

Sitting up in bed, pillows propped up behind you, you listened to the vinyl jazz music. Playing low in the room you hummed lightly. Everyone had left the previous day, going to see relatives, but you were still too sick to go. Although you were already feeling better, no longer bed-bound with a nasty fever. Hearing the sound of the front door opening, your ears perked up, as you climbed out of the bed. Stopping the music, you slowly tiptoed out of the room, stopping at the top of the stairs

“Ma chèrie, it isn’t nice to ignore people who care about you,” Lestat said from the bottom of the stairs.

Shaking your head, you went to run, bumping into Louis. Who also, didn’t look too happy, backing down the stairs, you froze, seeing Lestat slowly walk up to you. You were trapped, dropping to your knees, you shielded yourself.

“Please,” you covered your face, gasping in confusion as you were lifted, carefully brought to the sofa in the living room.

“You haven’t seen any of our letters?” Louis asked angrily before Lestat spoke.

“You ignored us out of society-inflicted shame,” Lestat started.

“No, it was nothing more than casual sex,” you said before he squished your cheeks together.

“If you weren’t so afraid of being judged by society, would you continue to deny yourself the pleasures you deserve?” Lestat asked, sitting next to you.

“One of you bit me, I don’t think I want either of you,” you told him as he chuckled before you noticed his abnormally sharp teeth. Fangs.

“She doesn't want us, hear that Louis, we’re being rejected by our companion,” Lestat laughed loudly, as Louis stared at you as if you had two heads.

Suddenly, the front door opened, and your parents and your younger siblings entered the house. Doing a double take, your father frowned.

“What's going on in here?”

“Nothing Daddy, we're just talking,” you stood up, moving in between him and the two peculiar men. Looking at them, you noticed the fangs in Louis's mouth.

“I don't think so, you two boys need to leave my house,” he said, the look on their faces showed they were highly offended at the choice of words.

“I am no boy, I am much older than you…” Lestat stood up.

“Don't hurt them,” you told them, your eyes going from Louis to Lestat.

“Perhaps we can get to an agreement, they are spared, in exchange for your companionship,” Lestat offered. You searched for his face, trying to see if he was serious, while he stood, waiting on your response.

“Fine,” you sighed, watching as Louis approached your family, putting them into a trance.

“You came home and went straight to bed, Y/n was feeling better and decided to spend time with some friends tonight-

“You should grab your things, ma chérie, and don't worry, that shame and fear instilled into you will be no more in a short while,” he told you, ushering you to go upstairs, while Louis made up a story to your family.

By the time you finished packing, they were gone, only Louis and Lestat waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. Not saying a word, you followed them to the car, trying to let the realization sink in, but it still all seemed surreal.

Entering their home you nervously followed them, into the bedroom.

“You can meet Claudia later,” Louis said, as they stared at you.

“Your daughter?”

“Our daughter,” he corrected you, but nodded.

“Ok”

“Y/n, the love that we’ve grown for you, it’s inhumanly, meant to be shared for an eternity, we can give you that,” Louis told you.

“You’re scared, I can make sure you don’t feel any pain, I can give you a piece of everlasting life. None of the things you have in this life hold any value to you, but I can give you something you will cherish,” Lestat told you.

“Choose us and we’ll choose you for the rest of eternity,” Louis said, before you hesitatingly nodded.

“You won’t be in pain for long,” Lestat told you, before he pulled you close, biting into your neck. Falling limb in his arms, he laid you on the bed, cutting his wrist, feeding his blood to you.

Shortly after, your body felt like it was on fire, your vision blurry. The two men stood over you, talking, Louis asking for a favor and Lestat debating on if he wanted to give in.

“Do it, before it’s too late, please,” he said, before Lestat looked at him, nodding, and facing you.

“Look at me, ma chèrie, you used to be a waitress at a bar…we were frequent customers when you met us….” As Lestat told you the fabricated story, he made sure to completely conceal your memory of your mortal life, as Louis requested.

As the memory came to mind your hands went to your eyes, trying to stop the bloody tears from leaking. The memory that changed the way that you viewed your maker and companions.

“Are you alright dear?” your mother asked, worried.

“I'm fine, mama, just happy to be home,” you told her, making her smile.

“Awe, honey, I'm glad that you are home, we all are,” she gushed, pulling you into a firm hug, before continuing with her conversation with your sibling.

‘Y/n’ Louis called out to you.

“Excuse me,” you said, getting up, going to the bathroom.

‘Leave me alone, please’ you told him.

‘Where is this coming from?’

‘I just need this time away, it’s just me time’ you told him, staring at your reflection.

‘Y/n, are you coming home?’ You heard Claudia.

‘Eventually’

‘Alright, love you’

‘Love you too’ you told her, before leaving the bathroom.

“Y/n, I just wanted to apologize for my outburst last night. What you do in your private life is your business, and I’m happy you’re home,” your father said, nervously, as you came back into the living room. Smiling, you didn’t say anything, approaching him, pulling him into a hug.

As night fell, everyone turning in for bed, you went to the backyard, thankful to find a few rodents to feed on. With your hunger satisfied, you went to your room. Sitting at the desk, you ripping a piece of paper from the diary, grabbing an envelope from the drawer.

‘I don’t think this companionship will work out anymore. Lie after lie, neither of you have been honest or truthful with me. I thought relationships were built and thrived on trust. Not ours, a big lie to feed both of your delusional obsessions. Stay away from me. I will be leaving New Orleans soon, probably headed back to New York’ you wrote, placing a stamp on the envelope.

“Hey,” you called out, as you went outside stopping the teenage boy on his bike.

“Bring this to Lestat De Lioncourt, his address is 1132 Royal Street,” you hypnotized the boy.

“But that’s all the way in the French Quarter,” he said in a monotone voice.

“I know, you will go right before the sun rises and it is okay because you were paid to do this,” you told him, watching as he smiled.

“You’re right,” he nodded, accepting the letter, before taking the money in his other hand, stuffing it into his pocket.

“Go on now, it’s getting late,” you told him, as he nodded, riding home to his house as you went inside.

“Y/n, you okay, darling?” Your father stood at the top of the stares.

“I’m ok, daddy,” you smiled, going upstairs to your bedroom.

Just as the sun began to rise, the young boy peddled his bike, careful to stay out of the way of any cars. For a second he wished his dad could have driven him, the 30 minutes bike ride would have been much shorter in a car.

Finally, he arrived, panting, he approached the townhouse. Opening the gate, he approached the door. Knocking softly, before speaking.

“Mail for Lestat De Lioncourt,” he said, pushing the letter through the mail slot, before he left to peddle home.

Still wide awake, Lestat stood from his piano, approaching the door, stopping. He watched at the young hand slipped in, the letter floating to the floor, before the sound of the footsteps became distant.

Reading the letter, he felt a series of emotions, sadness, rage, disappointment.

“Louis,” he called out, his companion jogged down the stairs in confusion.

“Yeah?”

“Y/n remembers,” he gulped, as the two looked at each other.

“Looks like we’ll have to make a stop tonight,” Louis said, before going back to his coffin.

“You’re just as beautiful as Joseph said you were,” you gushed to Sarah. The house was filled with guests, the sun had set not too long ago, and the night was still young.

“Oh my, thank you, he talked about you all the time, I never thought I’d meet you,” she said.

“Y/n, come here,” Carol called from the kitchen, before you excused yourself, joining her.

“What?”

“Mr. Alexandre is asking to see you,” she lightly pushed you in the direction of the living room.

“Who?”

“He’s one of Daddy’s associates, he’s young, rich, and handsome,” she said.

“And why don’t you talk to him?”

“He wants to speak with you and I’d prefer his brother, I hear he’s a widower,” she whispered, as you turned, walking towards where the man stood, amongst a few other businessmen.

“Miss Y/n,” the man called out, stepping forward.

“Mr. Alexandre,” you said, accepting his hand.

“If I could have a moment with you…”

“You may,” you said, walking into the hallway with him, near the stairs. You could feel his colleagues staring at the two of you.

“What is it?”

“I was hoping I could take you out for dinner, perhaps the steamboat, there is a nice band that plays-

“I am sorry, but no thank you,” you shook your head, about to leave, but he gripped your forearm.

“A little birdy told me that you have a thing going on with the European and crèole man in the quarter, I thought they were homo-

“Mr. Alexandre, my personal business is none of your concern”

“Then to have that little girl with them, like she’s their daughter, it’s twisted. You don’t need to get involved with them, tarnishing your reputation,” he said, making you think back to the society-inflicted shame Lestat spoke about.

“Do not speak about my reputation or any of them,” you shoved him, watching as he collided into the wall. A few people gasped, coming to see what was the commotion.

“Y/n, what happened?” Your father asked as the front door opened.

Along with a gust of wind Lestat, Louis, and Claudia all walked in, heads turning as everyone murmured about them. All of the eyes were on them and they never looked their way, solely focused on you.

“Y/n, why haven’t you come home?” Claudia ran to you, pulling you into a hug. You could feel how tense she felt, you frowned at the thought of her being upset.

“I’m sorry,” you told her, closing your eyes and taking in her usually sweet scent.

“Y/n,” your mother called out, now standing next to your father, a confused expression in place.

Before you could say anything, Lestat turned her way, gasping, you stepped up, when he turned facing you. Immediately you stopped, your eyes going down, while he moved closer.

“Madame,” he held out his hand, accepting hers, before placing a soft kiss on it.

“Get away from my wife,” your father said, taking her hand back.

“So you was gonna leave home?” Louis asked you, taking off his glasses.

“You lied to me, both of you did,” you told him.

“Louis, what is she talking about?”

“Nothing, go wait outside Claudia”

“Louis-

“It’s okay, go wait outside,” you told her, watching as she walked away, bumping the shoulder of a few guests, scaring them.

“You…both of you, did this to me, and for what? to satisfy your fantasies-

“To save you, you don’t belong with these people, their rules and principles, your nature goes against all of it. You could have never been happy with the way they wanted you to become,” Lestat told you.

“Y/n, it’s not safe to be around any of them, how long do you think you’ll be able to resist your urges, it’s best to leave them where they’re at,” Louis told you.

“Is this the brainwash they both feed you, two queer men trying to destroy and isolate everything you’ve known. I wouldn’t burden you with such ideologies,” Mr. Alexandre said, standing up, limping off the pain.

“And what are those ideologies, you speak of?” The tension thickened in the room as Lestat was in front of him within a flash.

“I-I-“ he began to stutter.

“These ideologies include being unapologetic even if it goes against society, not putting limitations on yourself, and redefining what family is. None of these things you know anything of because you think Y/n is as brainless as the rest of these women,” Lestat said before roughly grabbing his jaw.

“You could learn a thing or two before you let your mouth run so loosely,” he said, shoving him, watching as he collided with the wall, breaking through the wallpaper.

“Now you-

Lestat raised his hand, freezing everyone in the room, as your father began to yell.

“Your memory was wiped away, but everything has been real. Our love, Claudia’s love, nothing was forced. These people have caused you nothing but anxiety and shame, but if you want to throw us away, for them, I won’t stop you,” Lestat screamed, storming away, as the bloody tear slipped from his eyes.

“I thought I could balance both lives, it isn’t possible,” Louis told you, as you kept your head down.

“Is it possible to take away their memory, I won’t kill them, if they could just go on with their lives like before I was here,” you asked, while he immediately nodded.

Lestat had been right about so many things, how different you were, the restrictions you felt in your previous life. You weren’t ready to be on your own, you still needed your family. Perhaps it was better for you to not have been aware of the truth, to begin with.

“That can be arranged,” he said, motioning for you to go outside with Claudia. Stopping in front of your mother, you kissed her cheek, before leaving the house.

Getting into the backseat of the car with Claudia, she intertwined her fingers with your own. Lestat didn’t say a word to you, walking back into the house, as everyone unfroze.

After nearly 15 long minutes, the two left the house. You could see the party continuing, Carol could be seen with a small boy in her arms, accepting him from an older woman. The entire ride home was painfully quiet. The faint music from the locals could be heard as the house came more into view.

Claudia went to her room, while you meekly followed the two to your shared room. Stepping out of their clothing, they were preparing for rest, when you stopped.

“Lestat, I-please make me forget again,” you asked, making them look at each other, before staring at you.

“After all of this-

Moving to your knees, you crawled to him, prepared to beg to him, as if he was your god. Raising his eyebrow, even he looked surprised by your actions.

“Please make me forget, and we can go back to how we were,” you told him. Reaching for his hand, your head laid upon it, begging for your wish to be granted.

“Stand up, ma chèrie”

“How was the hunt?” Louis asked as you and Claudia both entered the house.

“Wonderful,” you laughed, plopping next to him. Lestat sat at his piano, idly pressing the keys that still managed to sound effortless.

“What are you doing?” You asked Louis, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Catching up on the paper, gorgeous,” he smiled, flipping the newspaper.

Your eyes widened at the image of the article, L/n Sugar Mill family home is burned down, leaving no survivors after an extravagant engagement party.

“Wow, and that was such a nice house,” you said, pointing out the picture, before picking up a nearby book.

“It was,” Louis agreed lowly, the trio briefly making eye contact.

With your memory wiped once again, the last thing any of them wanted was another situation that could cause you to want to break away from them. No one could ever come close to loving you like the three and they made sure there was no would who would awaken your memories, tearing you away from your little family.

this may or may not be deleted later …

[mimasroom2]

Love on top! ✧～(ゝᴗ ∂ )

Dealer!ellie x reader @ the mall

I’ve been thinking ab how Ellie would be a dealer and has some extra money to spoil her princess ♡

C/w: Not really any? Homophobia mentioned in like one sentence. Kinda suggestive but no smut. Sex toy mentioned like once. Marijuana mentioned like once (at the end). DINA MENTION FUCK YEAHHHH!!!!

W/c: 1k. sorry i just have a lot of thoughts😭

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

- Dealer!ellie who takes you to the mall whenever she feels like it. You never ask because you feel bad for her always spending money on you, but she lovesssssssss to do it.

- She would def buy you guys matching stuff.

- “Holy shit y/n… look at these!” Ellie turns around and has matching Sanrio plushies in both hands. You laugh bc she has them raised like how straight men pose with the fish they catch😭

- “Which one do you want, baby?”

- You pretend to think even though your absolute fav is cinnamoroll.

- She pumps a fist in the air, “FUCK YEAH I wanted pompompurin anyway!”

- She’d walk into any store and buy you guys those goofy ass tshirts that say shit like “I ♡ hot moms” because she gets a kick out of it every time.

- Don’t even get me started on how she’d be in Victoria’s Secret…

- She’d walk behind you with her hands in her pockets, biting her lip as you pick up the most absurdly hot set of bra & panties she’s ever seen.

- When you wanted to try everything on, she’d slip into the dressing room with you so you can have your turn spoiling her by giving her a little show

(˶ > ₃ < ˶)♡

- “Turn ‘round f’me, doll.” You always love how slurred her words get when she’s turned on 🙃 You do what you’re told and do a little twirl. She blushes and grabs your waist from behind, kissing your neck as you giggle looking at the two of you in the mirror.

- “Shit, baby. Gon’ have to buy this all for you so you can waltz around in pretty lingerie all the time.”

- As the two of you leave, she discreetly whispers in your ear “Gonna have to try those panties on for me tonight, mkay?”

- You’d wander into pandora or some fancy jewelry store and she’d be eyeing all the things you look at.

- “Ohmygodddd Ellieeeeee look at how beautiful this necklace is ahhhh!!” You squeal and eagerly point at it.

- “Hey babe, can you get us some auntie annes please?” Ellie smiles at you, “Need me some lemonade from how hot it is today.”

- As you walk away she stealthily buys the necklace you wanted :3. Chatting it up with the salesman n shit, bragging about you and how amazing of a girlfriend you are.

- She’s not afraid to do this bc she knows any homophobia she encounters she can shut down super quick. Perks of being hot and cool😍

- When you finally meet back up with her you’re smiling about the yummy pretzels you got, but your jaw drops when you see the pandora logo bag in her hand.

- You run over to her, “whattttt the fuckkkk Ellie? :0?”

- “Saw my pretty girl looking at it, so I jus’ had to see my pretty girl wearing it.” Is all she has to say in response (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭

- You gasp as she takes it out of the box, “For me?,!?,?,?!! Els, I told you, I don’t need any fancy stuff.”

- “Jus’ accept it, y/n. I like seein’ my princess happy.” She smiles as she puts it on for you :3

- You both sit down and DEVOUR those damn pretzels.

- (I’ve had this song stuck in my head the entire time writing this) The song Love On Top by Beyoncé starts playing, Ellie flashes you a wicked grin and takes your hands to stand the two of you up. The part that goes “You’re the one I love! You’re the one I need!” plays and she starts jumping around, moving your arms and giggling, not afraid to act like a goofball as long as it’s with you :,)

- If she saw anyone checking you out she’d tap her lips and say “cmere angel.” And give you a cute lil peck >:)

- You guys would walk into Spencer’s, give each other an evil look, and IMMEDIATELY run straight to the back.

- “Holy shit, babe there’s a fucking glow in the dark didlo.” You pretend to have your jaw drop as you wave Ellie over.

- She starts laughing wayyyyy harder than she should, “Whattthefuckkk that’s actually so fuckignfunny BAHAHAHA!”

- “Ellie it’s literally not that funny.” You’re not impressed.

- She gasps, trying to catch her breath, “No nonono no cuz imagine I’m fuckin’ you real good in the middle of the night. All the lights are off. And all you see is this damn glowing dick! Mannnn fuck.” You swear she wipes actual tears from her eyes.

- “Holy shit, do you think it would light up inside you?”

- You smack her on the shoulder 😭

- “Kay… that’s enough of Spencer’s…” you drag her by the hand out of there.

- “One more place I wanna go..” you keep dragging her by the hand.

- “Good.. cuz the malls ‘boutta close, princess.”

- Ellie smirks and scoffs as you guys walk into Claire’s. “Gonna get your clit pierced here or somethin’?”

- You go up to those merry-go-round display things and spin it until you find what you were looking for. “Nah, wanted one of these bad boys for Dina n I.” You show her one of those broken heart necklaces that come together to say best friends. She lets you pay for this one.

- At the end of your day Ellie walks the two of you out into the parking garage. It’s dark, so she pulls her hood up and hunches over to make herself appear more masculine. Not that it’s that dangerous or anything, but she’d probably never forgive herself if something happened to you - even the smallest scratch.

- As Ellie gets into her car, a SEXY ass truck might I add, she hands you a joint so you can relax as she drives you guys home ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

[yns-world]

Queen of Hearts

Title: Queen of Hearts

Pairing: Homelander x Supe!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: mentions of physical and mental anguish

A/N: dc/the boys au sort of. fem reader. 

dare i say fatima is coming out of retirement??? we don't know....but we enjoy whatever fics we can LMAO

i just finished the first season of the boys and i absolutely love my man homelander 😩 my dms are fully open for any and all homelander requests--hcs, drabbles, stories, etc!!! lmk if y'all wanna see more of this supe!reader :) (please keep your requests spoiler free thank you)

as always, enjoy!

Queen of Hearts. America’s Heart. The healer for The Seven. One touch from her can soothe any pain and mend the fragments of the mind and body.

From a very young age, Y/N was dubbed to have “angel hands”, with the ability to mend her family’s aches with just a single touch. By the time she was in high school, she was mending to her friends and their stress-induced ailments. With one brush of their hair, she was able to relieve them of all the mental or emotional discomfort.

When the recruitments for the next member of The Seven were open, Y/N applied because she had thought that she could provide aid in the face of all the misery and destruction that is left behind in a superhero’s wake.

She got in, of course. But she also got more than she could chew. 

Y/N’s original hero name was going to be “Angelica”, to pay homage to what her father would call her gift of “angel hands”. Vought had other plans.

“From now on, you are the reigning Queen of Hearts!” A contract broker exclaimed. Confusion painted Y/N’s face.

“I thought I was going to be Angelica?”

“Angelica is just another name, and you are not ‘just another person’. You are going to save millions, you are going to have an entire kingdom of dutiful followers that will worship you-- a benevolent monarch that bestows mercy on all those in her way. You will tend to those who suffer the greatest of pains: a heart shattered by grief.” Y/N didn’t know if she was speaking with a lawyer or a salesman from the sound of his spontaneous speech. From that day forward, her fate was sealed. 

From the very first press conference of her debut, Y/N was merely a little girl of the past, and the Queen of Hearts had begun her infamous reign. 

Signing posters with her face on it, performing interviews on talk shows, the Queen of Hearts was just getting warmed up for the real rally. 

When it came to the devastating wars and protests that went on in the nation, the Queen was sent to inspect the scene. Of course, the Queen always outperformed. Visiting house to house, sitting down with not just the victims, but the neighbors of the victims. Getting to know each and every citizen that could even have heard about what travesty had gone down. And during these visits, the Queen would have a healing hand on the people while her voice poured honey into their ears.

It worked. Each and every time. Just like how Vought wanted.

What people don’t realize, what people refuse to discuss, is how her powers work.

Her powers neither heal nor destroy, they simply conduct the transfer of pain into her body. She feels everything they have felt, she swallows all the things that their body has been fighting off. And she carries these burdens with her.

Her career with The Seven was lucrative in the first few years. What the nation needed most was not just a hero, but a mother. The Queen of Hearts provided that. 

Vought had trained her how to take on the burdens of thousands of people at once, but lacked in training her how to dispose of the weight she now carried.

When she was younger, Y/N would go into periods where she would shut herself off from the world. For weeks at a time, she would be paralyzed from the anguish, she could feel the poison slithering up and down her body like a parasite, and she would silently pray for death. 

But the Queen can’t just take time off from her role. With nowhere else to turn, she drowns out her sorrows in the only alternative-- fight grief with the cause of grief.

“According to Insider information, it appears that the Queen of Hearts is allegedly dating notorious criminal and psychopath, Joker. When asked for a comment, the Queen replies with: ‘He’s a person, too.’”

Feeling too many feelings all the time, hearing so many shouts of terror and agony in her head, the only antidote she seeks for is the exact opposite-- a man that couldn’t care less for the public. A man that bestows this agony onto others.

If Y/N could never escape from this hellhole of a life, then maybe the Queen could have a taste of what it’s like to live a different life. 

On his wild, maniacal hunts for money and killing, the Queen would be riding shotgun while the Joker took the wheel of his gold-decked lamborghini.  

Vought was pissed when the news broke out, but there wasn’t much they could do but assign the Queen smaller missions out in the middle of nowhere to try and “separate” her from the Joker until the news died down. But the Queen was tired of listening and bowing her head. And she also learned of how much they needed her rather than her needing them. 

Everytime the Joker would start a fiasco with dozens of victims, who would be the first at the scene? None other than his loving girlfriend, of course.

The public reaction might’ve been worse for wear in the beginning, but now that the Queen is doing damage control for her maniacal boyfriend, the public sees no problem with this relationship. 

If anything, it has opened the minds of thousands, and created a path for heroes and villains of all kinds to band together. And of course, where there’s money to be made, the companies come swooping right behind them.

But there came a time when the Joker took it too far, when not even the mother of the nation could undo his wrongs.

On his insatiable conquest for hell on Earth, the Joker attacked a nuclear power plant in an attempt to dismantle a system that was already built on the blood of its people. 

The Queen of Hearts was at the scene before first responders or the press, and what she saw alone left her writhing. 

The shrieks of innocent civilians, pounds of flesh and skin melting off the bone, shaky hands reaching out from the ground for a savior. 

The people needed a savior. 

The people needed a god.

She could not be what they needed her to be.

She fought that instinct to flee for so long, she pushed back and stayed for years. She gave up skin into the game, she thought that she had killed off that child inside of her. But it was in this moment-- where everywhere she looked was another soul begging to be put out of their misery, where there were thousands of souls waiting to be added onto the tremendous weight she already carries-- was when all of that weight finally cracked. 

Queen of Hearts looked up at the night sky, expecting to see stars but only to be met with clouds passing overhead. 

Well, one star did strike through the suffocating fumes-- Homelander.

She met his face, her eyes were filled with despair and her face twisted in despair, and he gave her a reaffirming nod. He would take it from here. 

Homelander watched as the Queen’s mask fell from her face and Y/N bolt into the night-- just before anyone noticed.

In the following weeks since the nuclear plant incident, Y/N holed up at the tower. Both the heroes and corporate knew it was better this way.

“Let sleeping dogs lie.” Stillwell said.

When she finally emerged from her self-induced banishment, the Queen was reborn. 

Stillwell hosted a PR conference the size of which whenever she would debut another hero. And that she was.

“I introduce to the world a new era of superhero. Please welcome, Sultana!” Out from the curtains came the new and improved Y/N. Replacing her red and black garments from her Queen of Hearts days was a lavish gold and evergreen suit.

New suit, new hair, new smile.

This time, Y/N knew better. 

This time, Sultana would stick to the script. 

The script included her being with Homelander, and she was fine with that. During team-ups, during walks across the red carpet, during meetings with Congress, Sultana would be right by Homelander’s side with a smile and a pleasant wave. Just like Vought intended.

Just as Homelander wanted it to be. 

Afterall, they weren’t superheroes, that’s foolish to think they are.

They just played a pretty part, and gave a bright smile. 

DON'T BE A GHOST READER! let me know your thoughts and how you feel about this fic!!! i love talking to each and every one of y'all <333

lmk if y'all wanna see more of this supe!reader type of stuff...or if y'all wanna see this specific character :D

if you enjoyed this post, then please consider reblogging :) every little bit helps and i greatly appreciate it <3

i'm open to homelander requests as of right now, so feel free to drop your ideas!!!

as always, please check my pinned post for request rules and the fandoms i write for :)

[morganwrites12672]

Five More Minutes

Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: Y/n tries to convince Sam to stay in bed for five more minutes, class can wait (Stanford!Sam).

Rating: PG-14

A/N: This is dedicated to the lovely @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles

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Y/n groaned and mumbled several rather colorful curses as the blaring alarm clock interrupted her sleep. On Tuesdays, Sam and Y/n had the same lecture. And, it was too goddamn early. Every week, she pleaded with Sam to stay in bed. Every week, Sam resisted.

Y/n wrapped her arms around Sam even tighter, glancing up at him. He gave her a tired smile and threaded his fingers through his hair. She knew he was about to get up. She didn't have long if she was going to convince him to stay in bed.

"Five more minutes," She pleaded, hoping he would agree. No one would notice if the two were late one week. It was only one time.

Sam sighed, she could see the contemplating look on his face as he gazed down at her. He wanted to stay in bed with her all day. It was his favorite place to be. Having her wrapped around him, it was his own personal heaven, and the happiest he had been in years. He reached his arm over and clicked off the alarm clock.

She didn't know about the other life he used to have. He had made up a bullshit story about his father being a traveling salesman. She couldn't know the truth about what went bump in the night. Sam planned on telling her eventually, but not anytime soon.

He gently played with her hair as he spoke, "Come on. . . We can get back in bed after we finish the lecture."

She frowned, rolling over so that she was laying on top of him. Their chests were pressed together, their faces mere inches apart. Usually at this point she would give up. The two would get up and begin their day. Today though, she refused.

"Please?" She asked, pressing gentle kisses to his chest and collarbone. She heard Sam's breath catch in his throat. The sound brought a smile to her face. She had him right where she wanted him.

Sam groaned, and she knew the second he looked at her that he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. He let his eyes flutter shut, giving up completely. He didn't have the will power to tell her to get up. Missing one day wouldn't hurt.

"So, we can stay in bed?" She asked, stating st his face, waiting. She had stopped pressing kisses to his chest and collarbone. She wanted to enjoy her victory.

Sam groaned, "Yes, we can stay in bed. You win," Sam said, even if his words were said slightly annoyed, she could see right through it. Sam wanted to stay in bed just as much as she did right now.

Y/n smiled, she was about to make another remark whenever Sam flipped the two of them over. Now it was Y/n on her back with Sam hovering on top of her. She saw the look in his eyes and smiled, they would be staying in bed for a while.

Sam quickly pressed his lips to hers. He kissed her like a man starved. She moaned into the kiss as Sam's hands began wandering. Their lips moved against each other, only pulling away for a brief second so the two could breath. This was going to be the perfect morning.

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please comment and/or reblog to show your support! Also, my requests are open!

[starcrossedxwriter]

Princess’s Punishment (MBJ x Reader)

A/N: I didn’t have the energy to go back and find the two asks lol but this is a request from two folks for a kinky punishment story with. So enjoyyyy!

Warnings: degradation, name calling, NSFW, lots of kinks (spanking, cockwarming, etc)

***

“What do you think?” You gave her fiancee a model-like twirl so he could examine your outfit from all angles. 

Michael glanced up from his phone and the email he was typing, letting out a low whistle as his eyes swept over your perfect frame. 

“That dress gon’ get you into trouble, Princess.” 

You threw him a coy smile before turning back to the giant mirror in the middle of the store. You were the only customer there, Michael preferring to reserve stores for an hour or two so you could have a private and serene shopping experience. It ensured everyone in the store was solely dedicated to getting you exactly what you needed and wanted. Most stores happily obliged, knowing that anytime Michael brought his princess in, the limit on his card was nonexistent. Today was no different. 

“That looks great on you,” a man offered as he emerged from the back of the store. His dreads were neatly pulled back out of his face. He was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, the exact type of man who would have once turned your head before you met Michael, the love of your life. But no one compared to the literal sexiest man alive in your eyes and that was a fact. 

You had never seen him in the store before but when the woman you typically worked with didn’t return, you realized he would be assisting you. 

“Hope you don’t mind. Jenn had a family emergency. I’m Marcus,” he reached out to shake your hm which you accepted with a bright smile. 

“Nice to meet you. Y/N,” you introduced yourself before turning back to the mirror, your hands running over the luxuriously soft material that hugged your curves. “Not sure this is the most flattering though.” 

“I have another dress in the back, we just got it in. Similar to this one but it’s perfect for you. Will be far more flattering. A body like that… you should show it off.” 

You did not pick up on the obvious flirting in his tone, particularly as that was the farthest thing from your mind. You merely nodded with a smile. “Thank you. That would be great. Can’t wait to see it.” 

“I’ll bring that and a couple other pieces. We technically aren’t supposed to show them yet but for a friend,” he winked at you. “I can bend a few rules.” 

“Really??” You were merely excited about getting an advanced look at your favorite store’s new pieces. 

“Of course. Be right back.” 

“Thank you!” You watched him for a few moments as he walked away before turning to Michael whose face was set in a scowl. “Everyone here’s so nice all the time.” 

“That nigga’s nice cause he wants to fuck you,” Michael grumbled, his tone signaling that he was not as pleased with the service as you.” 

Your jaw fell open before you laughed at the absurdity of the idea. Men rarely flirted with you, if ever. “Come on, baby. Don’t be silly. He wants us to spend money, likely to make his commission better so he’s just being extra complimentary.” 

“Nahhh, I watched him basically undress you with his fuckin’ eyes, Princess. Besides, I’m the one payin’ and nigga didn’t say shit to me. Acted like I’m not even here. I don’t like him.” 

You merely laughed, clearly not realizing that Michael was genuinely upset with the salesman. “Aww my grumpy baby. You don’t like anyone,” you teased before disappearing into your dressing room to try on more outfits. 

Outfit after outfit, you pranced around for your boyfriend and gave him a fashion show. He was thoroughly unhelpful as he loved 95% of the items you tried on and refused to help you narrow down the massive stack of clothes. Anytime you went shopping, he thought you should buy everything you remotely liked, even if you had one exactly like it in the closet at home. 

“What do you think? Don’t need both black dresses,” you muttered more to yourself than either man in the room. 

“You look perfect in both. Just get both.” 

“Not helpful, babe!” 

“I think you should get the one you have on. Shows off your body better.” 

“You commentin’ on her body a lil too much, my nigga,” Michael called out, clearly frustrated by Marcus’ innocent compliments toward you as you finished trying on clothes. 

“Michael!” You whipped your head around in shock at his rudeness. “Sorry, he gets very grumpy when we’ve been shopping too long.” 

“No apologies needed,” he raised his hands in surrender before making an excuse to go to the back of the store to get her something else. 

You scoffed once he was gone, you and Michael having a silent standoff. 

“That was hella rude,” you chastised him. 

Michael merely shrugged “Hella rude for him to openly flirt with my girl in front of me. He bold enough for that shit, he’s bold enough to take the heat.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“Nah and what were you doin’? Flirting back with that nigga.” 

You let out a laugh at the absurdity of that statement. “Flirting back?? It’s called being nice. I only got eyes for one, very jealous man.” 

And with that, you disappeared back into the changing room to put back on your real clothes. You could not understand what was up with Michael as of late. He seemed to be so much more jealous than he used to be lately, snapping or glaring at any man who got too close or talked to you for too long. He had done the same thing at a premiere just last week. You had chalked the first couple times up to him having a bad day but now you wondered if something else was wrong. 

“You ok?” You asked as you both patiently waited for Marcus to package your mountain of clothes and accessories. 

His eyebrow was furrowed with an angry expression on his face. Still packing most of the weight of Erik Killmonger, he looked intimidating to say the least. But you did not understand what he could be that upset about, nothing had even happened. 

He did not answer you, merely handing Marcus his card to finish paying. 

“Need help getting these to your car?” Marcus asked, his hands already preparing to grab the heavy garment bags and smaller shopping bags 

“That would be g-” you started to say when Michael immediately cut you off. 

“Nah we got it.” His short tone made you cringe slightly, Marcus’s face blanching at the rudeness of it. 

He gestured for his security to pick up the bags and grabbed the rest himself before gesturing for you to exit the store. You merely offered a polite thank you before following him out of the store. 

***

As soon as you walked into the house, you started up the stairs to put your new items in their proper spots when he stopped you. 

“Princess!” 

“What’s up, babe?” 

His tone and face looked almost bored as he scrolled on his phone. “When you’re done, assume the position by the counter.” 

Your eyes grew wide with surprise. Assume the position was a clear directive in the Jordan household, one that let you know the relaxing evening you had planned was not going to happen. A sign that you had upset your master, and thus, must be punished. 

“What did I do??” The logical part of your brain was well aware he was not going to tell you. If your infraction was not obvious, he rarely told you what it was until the punishment had started. But as you racked your brain, you could not understand what on Earth you did to upset him. You had a really nice day together and aside from the weird interaction with the sales associate, he seemed fine. Then it clicked in your brain. 

His jealous streak seemed to not have ended earlier, after all. 

“That’s for me to know and you to find out. 10 minutes.” 

He did not spare you another glance before he disappeared toward the living room, leaving you gawking after him on the stairwell.

“Fuck my life,” you muttered as you raced up the stairs. You completely disregarded your original mission of putting your clothes away, you did not have time for that. 

Instead, you stripped down to nothing and pulled your braids out of their high ponytail. You went to your drawer and pulled out the various things you knew were required: your collar and leash, nipple clamps, flogger, blindfold, and ball gag. He did not always use them all and sometimes he used none of them. But that was another thing for him to know and you to find out. 

You descended down the stairs, your entire body almost floating with anticipation. You knew whatever he had planned would be the most delicious form of torture and that he would fuck you senseless once you begged for his forgiveness enough. 

Michael was leaning against the counter, scrolling on his phone as he waited. Ingredients for dinner laid out on the counter. 

“Thinkin’ short ribs for dinner. Cool?” He asked, his voice completely calm and normal despite what you knew was about to happen. The sweet, doting finace who cared what you wanted for dinner would disappear and a new persona would take over. 

“Sounds good. Thanks, babe.” 

“You ready, Princess?” he asked, checking in as he always did before an intense punishment or scene, which you always appreciated. They were punishments but they were supposed to be pleasurable, in a way, for you too. 

“Yes, daddy,” you answered immediately, handing him all the toys you brought with you before sinking down to your knees before him. You spread your legs just enough for your flower to be on display for him, already wet and aching for his rough touch in the mere minutes he left you. The chill of the house caused the hair on your arms to stick up but you ignored it, things would heat up in a few minutes. 

You wanted to smirk as you watched his eyes cloud with lust but you kept your face neutral. Michael was gone and your master stood in front of you. And his perfect, submissive fuck toy replaced you, designed and ready for whatever pain or pleasure he was generous enough to offer. And the growing ache between your thighs revealed a simple truth: you loved every single second of being his slut. 

Your eyes remained trained on the wood panels of the kitchen floor as he silently studied you. The minutes stretched on and on at an agonizing pace but you did not lift your head or move an inch. However, you could not stop the little sigh of relief that passed your lips when you finally saw his feet come into your line of vision. 

His hand wrapped around your throat, your mouth falling open with a small moan as he squeezed. It was not hard, just enough to let you know he was there. More, you wanted to beg. That was the problem, it did not matter what he did. You just wanted more of it and more of him. You were so addicted to the drug that was Michael, it felt like a lifetime supply would not even be enough. 

His hand forced your head upward so you were looking directly into his expressive brown eyes, your favorite part of him. This position could have had you cumming right then. 

All you could think about was how good it felt to have his hand squeezing your throat while you rode his dick. The mere memory made your pussy clench. But that was not in the cards for you… not yet anyway. 

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” He knew everything about his little fuck toy, exactly what his Princess wanted and needed. And there was not a man alive who knew it better. “Such an eager fuck toy for me. That’s why you were tryin’ on all those slutty clothes today? Think you’d get my attention and I’d come back here and fuck you like the attention-seeking whore you are?” He asked as he let go of your throat, much to your sadness, and started circling you. A predator sizing up his prey, indeed. 

You were not foolish enough to answer a single question he levied, they were rhetorical. 

“But I wasn’t the only man whose attention you got. Bet you loved that shit too… his hands on you fixing your outfits, complimenting you. Flirting with him, accepting his help right in front of your master. I should’ve fucked you right there in front of him to remind you that there’s only one man whose attention you should want.” 

The thought of that made your head spin. Him forcing you to your knees in the dressing room, fucking you from behind, claiming you and your body loudly for every person to hear. 

He gently put your collar around your neck, the fur lining made it more comfortable than it would have been otherwise. It was custom, Princess Y/N, embroidered on it. 

“Too tight?” he asked as he attached the leash to it. 

“No master,” you muttered. 

“Good.” 

He tugged on it, forcing you in step behind him. You bit back the moans this caused, him walking you around your living room and kitchen for a few minutes. He knew how much you loved to crawl behind him. It was clear he was trying to ramp you up as much as possible before the punishment truly started. And it was working perfectly. 

By the time you returned to the spot you started at in the kitchen, your knees in pain from the hardwood floor, your body was screaming for his touch. Your core felt painfully empty, you were desperate to feel him on you, inside you. He slid the blindfold over your eyes. 

You whimpered for a moment at the sudden loss of sight, sensory deprivation was a new game for you both and you were still getting used to it. 

“Say the word and the blindfold can come off, Princess,” he whispered. At your nods, he continued. “Face down, ass up. Legs spread. Don’t move a muscle.” 

You adjusted yourself to assume his favorite position. You hissed as your upper body laid against the cool kitchen floor but you made sure the arch in your back was perfect, your ass perched high in the air. Your legs were spread enough for him to see the glistening mess coating your inner thighs. 

“You disgustin’ cum slut. Crawlin’ like a whore made you that wet?” He degraded you, making your entire body shudder as his hands caressed your ass. 

“Yes daddy,” you breathed out, your brain already losing the ability to fully form words. The fog of pleasure was already heavy and he had not even started. “I-I’m sorry.” 

You tensed up sightly, knowing that when you least expected it, his caresses would turn into sharp blows that would make you cry out. However, just as quickly as he started touching you, he stopped. You could not feel his presence around you at all. You had not been given permission to move and you could not see him. You could not even sense where he was anymore. 

Had he left you there? Naked and unable to move like a statue? After a few moments, you heard soft footsteps not far away, causing you to exhale slightly. He was still hovering around. 

Minutes passed by, slower than you thought time could move, as he just left you there without  a single touch or word. But you followed directions, your legs would literally collapse before you moved a muscle. 

Your mind raced to understand why he was not punishing you. And after about 15 minutes of utter silence except for the sounds of him cooking, you longed for it. The sting of his palm, the fire of the flogger against your ass, your thighs, your back, literally anywhere at this point. But there was nothing. This was more of a punishment than the spanking. If you had been given permission to speak, you would have begged for your own torture at this point, would have begged for as many lashings as he felt you deserved for being such a shameless whore. But you could do nothing, nothing but sit with shaking legs in your disorienting haze of pleasure until he decided that you were worth even doling out a punishment on. 

It was clear to you why he chose that particular spot, a spot you knew was visible to him regardless of where he stood in the kitchen. You were on display. 

At that realization, you deepened the arch in your back to something you didn't even know was possible. You had to force yourself not to wiggle your ass in his face, entice him to light it on fire with his strength. 

“Couldn’t even last 15 minutes without daddy’s attention, could you?” You were not sure if you were allowed to answer. “You may speak, Princess.” 

“D-daddy pl-please…” you begged. 

“Didn’t seem to care about me earlier. Why should I give you attention now?” 

“B-Because… I need…” your words failed you. You needed so much in that moment. You needed the pain, you needed the pleasure it brought, you needed to be reminded what you were and whose you were. 

“You need what? Need me to make you cum? You’ll be grateful if I let you cum at all tonight. Need me to fuck you like the cumslut you are? Not sure you deserve my dick. Or you need me to remind you what happens to disobedient fuck toys who anger their masters? Need me to remind you who owns you?” 

“Y-Yes! P-Please… I d-deserve to be punished. I n-need it.” The words barely left your lips before you felt the first blow of the flogger against your ass. “T-Thank you,” you moan, savoring the sting and ache it left behind. 

However, you could not savor it long as he rained them down on every inch of your ass and thighs and a couple well-placed agonizing ones against your pussy that made you scream. You kept count, as was already required. 

“Keep your legs open, slut or I’ll add five more,” he demanded as your entire body convulsed as the flogger caught part of your clit. You forced your body to maintain the position, which took all your willpower. And to think, you begged for this. 

Tears were streaming down your face when he reached 29. That was the most he had ever done with the flogger as it was more painful than his hand and it was torture. However, you took it, the desire to use your safeword never coming to your mind. You would not be able to sit tomorrow but your entire body was on fire, hot, sweaty and desperate for him to fuck the shit out of you. 

When you finally said 30, you were proud of yourself for taking all of it like a champ. 

“That’s a good slut. You should see your ass right now,” he muttered. “So beautiful.” You could only imagine your entire body was completely red and you could feel a couple welts from where he punished you in the same spot over and over again. “You may sit up.” 

You whimpered as you stretched and moved out of your position, your muscles protesting. As you sat up, his hand cupped your cheek and wiped away the few falling tears. 

“Too much?” he asked quietly. 

“No sir. T-thank you for r-reminding me what I am,” you whisper. 

He helped you to your feet, your legs shaking slightly. 

“Let’s watch somethin’ on the tv. Short ribs are slow cookin’.”

Despite the pain in your body, you could not help but smile. This was what made the punishments worth it, this moment. You were happy he let you walk to the couch, giving you a chance to stretch your legs. You stood and watched, licking your lips as he stripped off his clothes before sitting down, his head dripping with pre-cum that made you want to sink to your knees and steal a taste. You licked your lips, longing clearly written on your face that made Michael want to chuckle. He knew how much his Princess loved servicing him on your knees. 

“Don’t even think about it. Worthless cunts who can’t remember who they belong to don’t get a taste. Why?” 

“Because servicing you is a reward and I don’t deserve a reward, daddy,” you mumbled quietly, your voice just as lost and pitiful as you felt. This was the point of punishment though because all you now wanted to do was assure him you were his perfect, obedient princess so you could be rewarded. 

“Good girl. Earn my forgiveness and maybe I’ll fuck that sweet mouth before bed tonight. Now for your punishment…” 

Your eyes grew wide. The last 30 minutes had not been the punishment?? 

Fuck my life. 

“Climb up here and sit on my dick. Facing the tv.” 

You practically catapulted onto his dick without hesitation. Not just because good girls did what they were told without hesitation but because this was your type of punishment. RIding his dick was your favorite pastime.

You slid down on his hard dick, moaning loudly as he filled you to the brim. It was not the orgasm your body desperately needed but it satisfied the overwhelming, blinding carnal need to be filled you felt. You immediately started rocking your hips to increase the friction and pleasure when a powerful and painful swat against your already bruised ass stopped your movements. 

“I didn’t tell your dumb ass to move. Seems like you keep forgetting I own you Princess. This pussy… this body… it’s all mine. And no one else gets to touch what’s mine, no one else controls what’s mine. So you’re gonna sit there on my dick and you’re not gonna move until I tell you to. When I tell you to ride my dick, you do it. When I tell you to stop, you fuckin’ stop. Understand?” 

“D-Daddy please?” you hoped your pleas for mercy and the soft puppy eyes you had on would be enough to soften his resolve. Of all the things he had forced you to do since walking in the house, this was the worst of them. To feel him inside you and be so close to bringing him the pleasure he deserved and you desperately needed but not be allowed to? 

Fuck my life. 

“You should be thankin’ me for even letting your worthless cunt warm my dick. Now sit there and watch the show,” he nodded toward the tv where an episode of both of your favorite anime was playing. 

You moaned and turned around, trying to keep your attention focused on the show in front of you. However, it was impossible. 

This was an utterly new sensation and, while it was torturous, you could not deny that it was pleasurable in its own way. 

Michael’s girth and length was something to be reckoned with and he knew how to use it. His dick perfectly curved into your g-spot and could have you cumming with a few strokes. As you sat on him, his hands occasionally wandered to caress your other pleasure zones. His strong hands massaged your inner thighs causing you to moan. 

You wondered if you could orgasm from just sitting there. You would not because you did not have permission but you wondered if it was possible. Because between his hands and the feel of him inside you, you could think of nothing else. You could feel every inch of him, his dick throbbing and pulsing like a heartbeat against your walls. 

Your body squirmed in his touch, your moans as he played with your body were consistent, particularly when he brushed against your clit. He offered a featherlike touch, it was barely there but you were so worked up, you felt every jolt of pleasure through your body magnified. 

Your pussy clenched around him as if silently begging him to move. But you knew he would not allow you to until he was ready. 

He worked up a rhythm against your clit, your movements becoming more uncontrolled, your breaths heavier. You weren’t gonna last long like this.

“Whose pussy is this, Princess?” 

“Yours, daddy. Only y-yours.” 

“Who can bring you pleasure like your master?” 

“N-No one. J-just you.” 

“Never forget that shit, understand?” 

You nodded fervently. Every punishment had a lesson and this one was etched into your brain matter as now was the feeling of every vein and inch of his dick. 

“I w-won’t! I promise, daddy.” 

He pressed a soft kiss to your bare back, increasing the speed of his fingers. “Cum on my dick, Princess.” 

With permission to cum, you stopped holding back and allowed your body to feel everything. Fuck his fingers knew exactly what buttons to push as your body finally got the pleasure it needed for the last hour. The build up was so fast you barely got to enjoy it but you did not care, you needed the crash, the fall to drown in the pleasure only he could provide. And when you reached the peak, you crashed hard. 

“You like that, baby? You gon’ cum for daddy?” 

“Y-Yes… fuck… t-thank you!” you cried out as you threw your head back as an explosion of pleasure took over every inch of your body. You felt pleasure down to the very cells that made up every part of you. 

You gasped as Michael’s hand wrapped around your long hair and gripped it, pulling you backward. He turned you so his mouth could claim yours, drowning out your moans and cries with a kiss so dominating you never wanted it to end. 

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, causing your heart to soar. “You’ve earned my forgiveness. Ride.” 

You did not need to hear anything else as you started to ride him with abandon, moaning every time his head rammed into your g-spot. You’d cum again before this was over but you made it your personal mission to ensure he did too. You pulled out every trick and play you had in the book until you felt his hands dig into your hips and he started ramming into you. 

You let him take control as he fucked you like a rag doll, ignorning the ache of your bruised ass and thighs as he slammed into them with every thrust upward. He kept you flush to his chest with one hand wrapped tight around your neck, the gentleness of his choking earlier long gone. 

“Where you want it?” he demanded as you felt the signs of him about to cum. 

“Cum inside me, please!” you begged. Michael knew you had a bit of a breeding kink, loving the feeling of him filling you with his cum. That was often another punishment when he would cum on you instead of inside you. Not that him marking his territory was really a punishment. 

“Want me to fill this sweet cunt, baby??” 

“Yes! Please, please!” you begged as he fucked you so hard you felt as if you would be seeing stars for hours. 

You could not stop your body from convulsing as you felt the warmth of his cum surge inside you, you clenched around him. 

Your legs burned as you used your arms, braced on his knees to stop your upper body from toppling forward. He rubbed soothing patterns along your spine to calm you. Michael pushed you to your limit every time but he also knew how to take care of you afterward. 

He lifted you off of him, a slight whimper escaping your lips at the emptiness you suddenly felt. He only sat you down long enough to stand up himself and you were quickly back in his arms, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he carried you up to your master suite. 

He laid you on the bed and got some soothing lotion and started massaging it everywhere the flogger hit you. You shuddered at the cool feeling but it felt heavenly combating the stinging you still felt and soreness you knew you would still feel tomorrow. 

“You did so good for me, Princess,” he offered, your sweet Michael clearly having returned to you. 

That was all you needed to hear, that you had pleased him. 

“Thank you.” Your gratitude was muffled against the comforter of your shared bed. After a few moments of silence, you sat up and glanced back at him. “You know you’re it for me, right? Don’t have eyes for anyone else.” 

“Yea I know… sometimes I just worry…” his voice trailed off. 

You ignored the ache to shift over to him and straddle his waist, his hands resting on your hips. “You’re always reassuring me, sometimes I forget you need that too. You are the greatest thing that ever happened to me. It’s you and me till the end of the line, babe.” You teasingly peppered his face with kisses until he finally smiled and started laughing. 

“You and me, baby.” 

“But anytime you wanna get a little jealous and possessive and it leads to that? Feel free,” you joked, the scene still dominating every space in your mind. At your words, you suddenly became hyper aware of his member pressed against your core and instinctively started grinding on top of him. 

“Princess,” he growled. “This time ain’t about me,” he reminded her. Aftercare was about you and he was committed to it. 

“How much time do we have till dinner?” 

“Two hours.” 

“Enough time for you to teach me my lesson again and then take care of me. Don’t think it quite stuck,” you shrugged nonchalantly, taking on your bratty persona to rile him up. 

You shrieked as he flipped you over onto your back and stood up. Master was back and he was ready to make the most of those two hours.

***

A/N: Thanks for reading!! My requests are open if you have more asks/requests… just know that it takes me a while lol

Drop a comment and let me know what you thought :)

[mamirhodessxox]

One request. 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Angry black suit cody. 😍😍😍

That's all.🙃🙃🙃

Ask and you shall recieve shnookum 🤓☝️

Settle Down

Cody Rhodes x Fem!Reader

Desc: Cody fires himself up during his Monday Night Raw promo which results into Y/N having to help calm him down backstage.

Contents: Fluff, Cussing, Y/N being a sweetie, angry cody 🤗‼️ (No smut in this one since next oneshot will include smut)

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

“The Rock, took to instagram last week following up with a very entertaining rock concert, too bad he didn’t wanna be here tonight..” the crowd booed “Rock referred to himself as our favorite heel..?” Cody’s voice echoed throughout the arena talking & saying “The nature boy rick flair was a heel. Rock..I don’t think you’re a heel I think you’re an asshole..” Cody scowled directly into the Camera while standing inside the ring as if you two were making eye contact despite the fact you were backstage watching this all go down on the tv that laid against the wall of his dressing room.

“Haven’t you been crying behind the scenes this whole time? I mean once that hashtag came out once they started chanting something else, you went and CRIED to your buddies on the TKO board ‘HEY HEY! This is gonna be some good pr for the rock I need to save wwe’ god knows look at thise house we sure needed saving right?! He said it’s gonna be this great pr for the rock until it wasn’t..” Cody ranted while circling around staring directly at the live camera & you immediately noticed that he was beginning to fire himself up the more he spoke.

“Rock, the TKO folks said to you oh my gosh yes rock yes put on your gucci shirt your muscles will look so big YES YES YES YES! The reason they said it is because they are YES people they are enablers they don’t tell you like it is, so I’m going to.” Cody scoffed as he went on another tangent on how he could admit many things on the Rock but then he pissed himself off so much to the point where he started becoming more verbally agressive “Rock you are also a terrible Salesman a carny succubus and for those who don’t know what that means..Your a whiney BITCH.” He snapped.

Y/N sat in the dressing room staring directly into the fury of his eyes right through the television screen, all this talk about the rock had genuinely started becoming angering to him & bothersome that he somehow managed to upset himself the more he spoke. “You haven’t been in the ring in real time action in YEARS! And April 6th the BELL is gonna ring! What happens rock when it rings? Are you gonna have all that Big Dwayne Energy or LDS?! Little. DICK. Syndrome!” He shouted while all of the fans within the arena started Chanting, Cheering, Shouting waving around their signs while even the announcers chuckled to themselves.

For the rest of his promo he continued ranting, shouting & even going as far as making a sudden deal with The Wiseman Paul Heyman, threatening to pull a Homelander & rip out his throat if he didn’t get to the point which left Paul a little shocked. Once his promo for the night was finished You immediately left the dressing room just as he rushed his way backstage huffing and puffing mumbling with Jey & then approaching you hut you held up your hands that lightly knocked against his chest about to speak but you shook your head

“Cody I can tell you’re pissed off, You upset your own self just by talking about Dwayne alone & before You do anything like take off the suit, get comfortable, go to the bus I need you to grab some water & take a breath.” You spoke softly as you noticed his hands were shaking in irritation and inner rage before he took a deep breath & exhaled while nodding.

“Good. Now let’s get you out of that suit & into the bus before Pharaoh looses his mind..” you pat his shoulder while you two went to the dressing room. You helped him get undressed and for a moment he just legit stood there with boxers on ranting his heart out “Had the nerve on him to mention MY mother y/n and complain about me shedding ONE tear ONE SINGULAR TEAR but this entire time he’s bitching and WHINING to TKO” he started shouting a bit while you folded his suit & packed it away. You turned around & started shushing him softly and pat his chest “Baby your yelling, Settle down okay? I know your pissed hell I would be do if someone talked about my parents like that. But I need you to lower your voice, your throats gonna go raw. Like Monday.”

Cody chuckled at the corny joke you had made to help cheer him up while pulling him into a warm hug as you practiced deep breathes with him “Thank you sweetheart I don’t know what i’d do without you.” You smiled shrugging “I don’t know either.” He snorted and pressed a kiss against your lips “alright now pipe down a bit.” You laughed before giving him one more kiss.

Cody was not an easily angered man, until things like his parents or loved ones getting mentioned but when he had You around? He was going to go a long way when you knew how to calm down in the right ways.

xtripleiiix’s Masterlist

[leeknowsnot]

kinktober — space (felix)

genre: smut (minors dni)

note: F/N for your friend's name

content: felix x reader, reader is jealous, lingerie, non!idol felix, he's a salesman, fingering, squirting, dirty talk, little salesman-customer roleplay with felix, risky public sex, felix pull out game strong

sorry it took time!! here's for day 2 kinktober for claustrophilia

kinktober masterlist

You twisted your face into a frown. For the umpteenth time, you slurped aggressively on your Starbucks drink as you glare at a random woman flirting with a certain salesman. Your friend who sat across you gave you a blank stare, blinking at how you practically sucked at nothing at this point but melted ice water.

She decided it was enough watching you act like a sulky kid and poked your forehead, making you yelp and rub your temple, your glare now transferring to her. "What was that for?!" you complain at her as she rolls her eyes at you.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," she says and you grimace.

"Dude no, I'm not gonna take a picture of someone trying to flirt with my boyfriend," you retort back at her. F/N gives you a long sigh accompanied by her shaking head.

She turns her body around, elbow resting on the chair as she looks at what you were busying yourself with earlier. She looks for a while before turning back to you.

"Come on Y/N, let it go. With that cute face, how many girls do you think flirts with your boyfriend on a daily basis, huh?" she raises an eyebrow at you. "He'd practically be used to it at this point. It's not like he's gonna flirt back anyway, we both know how much of a simp he is for you." F/N laughs, sipping at her drink before shaking her head again.

You huff. You twist your lower jaw, eyebrow raising in a way that made it easier for you to contain your irritation. "Well, I don't plan on getting used to it and I'm not just gonna sit here," you say. It was the final straw.

For you and for that Starbucks staff who probably had to empty a whole container of literal straws each time you ask for a new one after having chewed out the previous one too much.

F/N tried to stop you when you stood, heading out of the cafe to trace a beeline towards the department store that was just across Starbucks.

You had one objective in mind: to let these snakes know that the undeniably cute, handsome, and dreamy blonde salesman named Felix was taken and will always be taken by you. Though, you halted in your tracks, having a devious light bulb pop in your head.

You inhaled, huffing out an air as you look at Felix and that one girl that always seemed to be one step too close each time you look away and look back. He was yet to notice you, let alone know that you dropped by the same mall he was working at.

You smirked to yourself, deciding on proceeding with your plan. You walked towards the female undergarments section that was just beside the brand that Felix was manning. Approaching the saleslady, you gave her a smile.

"Hi! Can I uhh," you paused, eyes sneakily looking at Felix before looking back at the lady. "See all of the sizes for this whole row?" The saleslady blinked and widened and her eyes at you, eyebrows raised as she tilts her neck towards you in confusion.

"E-Excuse me, the whole row...?" she repeated and you nodded with another big smile on your face. She parts her lips, about to say something but closes them, hesitantly nodding before walking away to head to the stock room.

Does she even know what exact size her boobs are? Why is she asking me to get 12 boxes of nothing but boob catchers? was probably what you think was inside the saleslady's head as soon as you sent her away but you had other plans in mind.

You headed towards the lingerie section, eyeing at everything that caught your eyes. When your eyes landed on that certain lingerie that barely had cover and a slit at the bottom, you smirked to yourself. "Bullseye," you whisper.

You turned your head around, pretending that you didn't just send off the store's saleslady into an impossible adventure of climbing service stairs just to get your unbelievable request of wanting to get a look at every size of about 30 bras. You put up an act that you were looking for the poor lady. When you "didn't find her", you approach Felix whose back was turned to you.

You tapped him on his shoulder. "Excuse me sir, can I ask for assistance? The lady in charge of this store isn't around," you say, making Felix turn cluelessly.

However, his bright but confused smile turns into a look of shock as soon as he sees you, his hand bringing itself to cover his mouth. But he closes his mouth and takes his hand away from his face as soon as he did.

He glances around for a moment, subconsciously being wary that his boss might be taking rounds around the floor and see him slacking off. But then again, nobody else knew that you were supposed to be his girlfriend.

Well, you two and the sight of your friend at Starbucks from the corner of Felix's eyes so people would only think he was assisting a customer. He slightly bends down his head so you'd hear him. "Y/N, what on earth are you doing here?"

You give him a look of fake disbelief. "Am I not allowed to shop?" you half-whisper back to him. He stutters a blink — if that was even possible.

"I—" you cut him off, waving the clothing in front of him.

You fake a pout. "I've been wanting to try this out but the saleslady hasn't been showing up for ten minutes." Yeah, thanks to you. "I'm kind of in a hurry and don't have any other free time aside from now and I'm worried someone else might buy it if I just come back another time."

You glance over Felix's shoulder, seeing his co-worker—but not before glaring at the woman who was flirting with Felix earlier—assisting someone from the other rack. "I was wondering if you could accompany me to the fitting room, so you can make sure I'm not gonna steal it while I try it out?"

Felix looks back, confused, before turning back to you. His eyes scan the lingerie you had in your hands, lips parting with a silent gasp as he looks back at you with a "really?" expression.

You only raise your eyebrows at him, tilting your head. "Well?"

Felix licks his lower lip in awkwardness. You could see some sweat on his temple despite the cold temperature in the mall. You mentally give yourself a pat on the back. It's working, you muse to yourself. He hesitantly nods, gesturing his arm somewhere. "The fitting room is over there, m-ma'am," he plays along, walking ahead of you to guide you towards the fitting room.

He stood by the entrance, feet firm on the ground. You stood there as well, staring at him like he was supposed to know what was in your mind. Well obviously, he was no mindreader when he looks back at you, another confused expression in his face.

You roll your eyes at his cluelessness, scoffing before you eventually walk past him and into one of the fitting cubicles, leaving poor Felix with question marks in his head.

As you locked the door behind you and turned, now facing yourself in the mirror, you immediately threw your clothes off of you. You glanced at the lingerie that you hung on the hook by the wall and threw it on yourself. It was quite a hassle to put on but you reminded that it'll be worth it once you manage to put your plan into action.

Once you were finished battling with the various laces and garters, you admired yourself on the mirror. There was a hint of embarrassment as soon as you saw the slit, exposing everything, leaving nothing to the imagination.

But whatever, you went this far, there was no point in turning back. You slightly opened the door, hiding your body behind it but peeking your head out. You look at Felix who was still at the same spot as where he had been.

"Psst, Fel — I mean, sir!" you called out to him, making him turn his head towards you. You gestured him to come closer but he gives you a confused frown. "Come here," you half-whisper. Felix shakes his head at you, still afraid someone would catch him. You click your tongue. "Come here already! I can't unzip my blouse from the back!" you lied.

Eventually, Felix gave in with a sigh, making sure no one would see him as he enters the fitting area and walks towards your door. "I can't believe you!" he half exclaims-half whispers. But as soon as he was near enough, you pull him inside the cubicle, immediately locking the door.

"Y/N, what are you doing?!" he exclaims. He was five seconds late when he realized and took in what you were wearing. Tinges of pink filled his face, making his freckles more prominent as he instinctively looks away. "You're out of your mind!"

You dramatically huff at him and cross your arms. "I did what I had to do. That woman was basically rubbing her nipples at you." You were clearly exaggerating but you could care less. You'd say she was on the brink of undressing Felix if it meant making your point. Felix sighs and looks back at you. He holds your bare shoulders.

"Y/N, please. We talked about this," he sighs. "I don't even care about customers like that, I'm just trying to do my job. You don't have anything to worry about."

This time, it was your turn to look away at him. You didn't like it. Even if he didn't care about it, it bothered you a lot. Even if he was saying that there was nothing to worry about, you still worried a lot.

It's not that you didn't trust Felix. You'd trust him with your life, if anything. You just didn't trust the women that would lay their eyes on him as if he was some prize.

"I wish you cared more, honestly," you mutter under your breath. "Maybe if you did, you'd actually push them away and tell them you're taken instead of letting them flirt with you all the goddamn time and pretend that you weren't noticing anything."

Felix raises his eyebrows at you, tilting his head to meet your eyes. "Is that what all of this was about?" he asks. "You're jealous?"

You refused to meet his gaze, clearly guilty over what he said. Yeah, you were jealous. So what? Yeah, you were annoyed. So what? You wanted to tell him that but you pouted instead. You expected Felix to feel disappointed at you but you were surprised when his expression softened, pulling you into a hug.

"Oh, Y/N what am I going to do with you?" his voice muffles as he burries his face in your neck. You both stay still like that, nothing but silence and mutual presence enveloping you both.

You only realized then how cramped the fitting cubicle was. It made no room for you and Felix to even be two feet apart from each other.

"You could've told me instead of..." he trails off, his hand running through your bare back. "...this."

You take in a sharp intake of breath at the contact of his fingers on your back as he traced small circles. "I wanted to take you by surprise," you confessed, muttering as you brush your cheek on his ear.

Felix lets out a quiet, yet husky chuckle. This man. He could not try to seduce you and yet seduce you. And it drove you on edge, knowing that he'd have the same effect over any other woman, regardless if he was doing things on purpose or not.

It was shameful to admit, but you wanted to keep that for yourself. You wanted to keep him for yourself.

You felt his lips on your neck, on your shoulder, then on your collarbone before he looks at you. "Well, I am surpised," he chuckles. "Happy now?"

You roll your eyes at him, clearly annoyed at the lack of reaction. Though, his smile falters has he takes his time taking in your appearance. "I could get used to the view though," he whispers under his breath but of course, your ears pick that up. The corner of your lips turn up a bit, satisfied by his comment.

You tilt your head back at him. "You really do know how to convince people to buy stuff, huh?" you raise your eyebrows at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Felix gives you a quiet laugh at this.

"It's not my brand to sell," he says. "Now. Does this product satisfy your taste, ma'am? I can get you a different style if you want," he whispers, slightly twirling his fingers around some of your hair from the back as he smirks at you.

You let out a small chuckle. You look into his eyes then to his lips. You pretend to think for a while. It was now your turn playing along with his little act. "Hmm. I'm not entirely sure. I still need to see if my boyfriend would like it or not," you trace a finger over his chest. "So I wouldn't waste any money if I do buy it."

Felix raises his eyebrows, amused at how both of you were getting into the moment of play pretending. "Oh, I'm sure your boyfriend would love it," you could feel his hands roaming down towards your waist. "Shall we test it out?" he asks with a low, raspy voice, his lips now lingering by your ear.

You hold back a moan. The way he'd drive you insane with just his voice was... insane. He could just play with words, whisper them in your ear, and yet you'd already turn into putty. "In this cramped little fitting cubicle?"

Felix chuckles lowly, letting out a small groan in your ear as he squeezes one of your ass cheeks. "I believe you were the one who led me here," he teases. "But then again. The smaller the space, the better." He licks your earlobe, nibbling on it before sucking on your neck. "Because there's nowhere left for you to escape into once I start fucking you. And when I do, I do it hard. You know that, right love?"

Oh you would lie if you said his words did not make you shiver. When you said Felix could just get you off with his words, you meant this. This was his side that you didn't want anyone else to see. It was yours, and only yours.

You hold back a whimper, feeling your legs turn into jelly as soon as he starts caressing your skin with his hands. His mouth would place wet kisses on your breasts before latching his luscious lips onto your nipple, suckling silently at the sensitive nub. "Can you open your legs for me, dear customer?" he says between his ministrations.

You immediately comply. Where was your attitude and determination from earlier? Gone. Your reasoning that was the only thing that kept your dignity from thinking of having sex with your boyfriend at his work place—which also is a publicly visted place—with the high risk of getting caught? Gone. Your voice. Gone. Your jealousy? Oh, most definitely gone.

Felix clearly loved the concept of nothing but a slit on you. He was having too much of it as he continuously ran his digits through your folds, relishing at how wet you were. He knew his voice drove you to the edge, and he most definitely like using it to his advantage. Especially when you were like this, vulnerable, submissive, and ready to devour like a five star meal.

He slowly inserts a finger inside of you, slipping in so easily considering how slick you already were. And another one. Then, he pulls them out. Then pushes them in. Pull them out. In. Out. In. Out. In—

You suddenly gasp, putting a hand on your mouth as he finally buries his fingers deep inside you, as far as they could get, and starts fingering you at a fast pace without any warning.

You drowned in the feeling of his fingers rubbing on your g-spot repeatedly, and his fingers drowned in how much love juice you were releasing. You tried to hold back your loud moans, letting out occasional gasps as he increased his pace.

This time, you were finally uncontrollably squirting liquid. It dripped through Felix's hand, pooling on the carpet floor beneath you. Squelching sounds started to fill the whole cubicle. If you were in the right headspace, you'd be concerned about making too much noise but you weren't.

It was a mess. You were a mess. Felix's arm was a mess. And he loved the sight of it. As he finger fucked the last of your juices out of you, he finally pulled his fingers out with a pop, your walls still attempting to clench on them, leaving you a panting mess as your back rested on the wall.

Felix whisked the remaining liquid off his arm before looking at your fucked out state. He smirks. "Guess I'm getting a 10 out of 10 for customer service," he says. Felix places a kiss on your lips as to which you respond back 5 seconds late, considering how you had to recover from your daze.

When he pulls away, he turns you around so now you were facing the mirror. There wasn't much space to begin with. You made a mental note to complain to whoever was the mall's architect designer for making less room but then scratched the idea since you had them to thank because Felix was now unzipping his pants from behind you.

He didn't completely pull his pants down, just unbuttoned, zipped down, and then pulled out his dick. He didn't need much lubrication since, obviously, your excess release from earlier was enough for him to just confortably slide in like a key. From his view, the lace ribbons perfectly hugged your curves, heightening his libido.

He pulled your arms behind, locking them with his hand as he makes you lean upward as if you were half standing, half bending down. "Look at yourself in the mirror, ma'am," he says as he starts with a slow pace. "Tell me if it's the right size for you."

You gasp each time he thrusts back in. "B-Big... Too big," you mumble and Felix chuckles. He was clearly referring to the lingerie but took your answer as an encouragement to thrust harder into you anyway.

Felix admired you from the mirror. He admired how small moans would escape your mouth each time he pushes back into you. He admired how your boobs would bounce each time he collides his hips with yours. He admired you.

He holds your chin, slightly tilting your head upward so your eyes would meet his through the mirror. "Look at yourself, love," he grunts between his increasing thrusts. "This view. Being fucked from behind by me. It's a view only for you to see. Not for that lady who was trying to flirt with me. Not for anyone else."

He wanted to prove you that no one else could ever replace you, and that you didn't have to feel jealous everytime someone would be too close for comfort, but at the same time, he liked seeing you jealous. Because he gets to fuck you like this.

His pace increases, slamming into your cervix at an incomparable speed as the sounds of your skin slapping on each other dangerously fill the cubicle.

To hell with having people hear the sinful sounds of sex. All he could think about was you, your cunt, the close space that now smelled of sex, and drilling deep inside you until all remaining thoughts of jealousy were fucked out from your head.

Both your breath become ragged and incoherent, mixing with muffled moans and stiffled groans as Felix thrusts into you at a hard and faster pace.

"Felix, please..." you finally find your words. "I can't..."

He pulls your torso towards him, thrusts continuing as he whispers by your ear. "Can't what, love?"

You hum back a moan that threatened to come out louder than it should. "Almost... cumming again," you manage to let out with a string of gasps. Felix places a kiss on your shoulder.

"Alright," he says. "Cum for me then." he removes his chin on your shoulder, repositioning himself as he holds both your arms behind. Then, he thrusts again, this time with a faster, ruthless, inhumane pace than earlier, your moans breaking into multiple, continuous gasps.

You attempt to pull away. It was too much. Too pleasurable. Too overstimulating. But just as he said, there was nowhere else for you to escape to in this tight space. His hands pull you back towards him to meet with his clapping thrusts, which finally drives you on edge.

"Oh my God, Felix I'm cumming," you almost scream, if not for his other hand covering itself on your mouth.

As soon as he hits that one spot, you finally reach your climax as your body twitches, a long, dragging moan muffling itself in his palm as his pace continues for a short while before slowing down as soon as he reaches his climax too. He stiffles a groan, pulling out of you as he runs his hand through his dick, pumping his cum out, spilling warmth on your bare back.

"Oh, fuck..." he pants, breath recovering as he shortly admires the sight of you trembling as your back turned towards him.

As soon as you both catch your breaths, he turns you around, this time a lot more gentle. "Well?" he asks. "Still getting jealous over customers who could only dream of seeing the same view I showed you earlier?"

You were still recovering but you chuckle at his remark, rolling your eyes. "Alright alright, whatever. You made your point by literally almost fucking my brains out," you say, resting your case as he pulls you into a hug. He places a kiss on your temple, body slightly swaying.

"I love you so much, Y/N. A lot more than you think," he mumbles on your hair. You hum, contented with his words and his actions to lessen your grudge over the woman earlier.

Felix finally pulls away from the hug, a sigh escaping his lips as he zips his pants back up and fixes himself. "Unfortunately, I have to get back to work before my co-worker notices I'm gone," he says and looks at you again. Felix smirks, "I look forward to seeing you at home, wearing a different lingerie later so we can test it out again." He gives you a wink.

You scoff at him, slapping his arm as he gives you a laugh, seeing himself out of the cubicle. You shake your head in disbelief but eventually smiling to yourself. Guess there was nothing to worry about in the first place after all.

...

Felix had a smile on his face as he walks back to the brand he was supposed to man. But not until getting stopped by a pile of boxes lined up on the floor. He furrows his eyebrows before a saleslady taps on his shoulder.

"Hey, have you seen a woman wearing a green dress around here that was checking on some undergarments? I've been trying to look for her for 8 minutes already," she sighs, a troubled look on her face. "She asked for all sizes for a whole row of bras, can you believe it?"

Felix blinks.

What were you wearing before you put on the lingerie again? A dress. What color? Green. Where were you when you made your presence known to him again? The undergarments section.

His eyes dart behind the lady, seeing you sneaking out the fitting room, the definitely not used lingerie crumpled in your hands, dressed in your pretty green dress that he had bought you for your birthday last year. His eye twitches at the amount of boxes on the floor.

Felix looks back at the saleslady. He closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Inhaling. Then exhaling. "No. I don't know anyone with that description."

likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!!

[slashingdisneypasta]

Disney Villains x Clueless!Reader || Excerpts

Plot: You had absolutely no idea about their villainous deeds… until you walked in. Part 1??

Characters Included: Cruella De Vil, Hades, Jafar, Lots-O’-Huggin Bear

Warnings: Angst. Also kidnapping, hypnosis, and attempted gas lighting/manipulation.

Tagging: @asperol-with-izzy , @disney-android-foundation , @lady-love88 , @marinerainbow , @miss_understood , @moxiiscool , @ryantryan6969 , and @yesthetrashbin . Hey y'all! Have some drama with your August. xo

Cruella De Vil:

When you walked into Cruella’s house, using your own key (You were meant to surprise her. It was supposed to be nice!), and heard her talking to Le Pelt on the phone in her office, you were so shocked. And so was she, when she left her office and saw you there in the hallway with a horrified look on your face.

Cruella is non-too-happy about your surprise, that is for sure. As soon as she lays eyes on you and realises what you just heard, she is so frustrated. Now you’re going to make this a thing, damnit. You’re probably going to try to leave her- all because you acted stupid and tried to surprise her. Ugh! … now darling, don’t lose your little head over this, they’re just some puppies, after all- When you immediately turn and storm back towards the front door again, chucking your key at a hallway table, Cruella wouldn’t move. She wouldn’t run after you; She’s not the type. But the frustration in her voice would build and she’d give up trying to be calm and careful with you, yelling after your retreating form. Wait right there! Y/N! Turn around. You walk out that door and you’ll never work in this- or any industry, ever again! I promise you that!-

When you slam the door behind you, she will not follow you.

… But never fret, she does care… and she’ll have her admirers Le Pelt and Alonzo abduct you in the middle of the night.

Good, put the nitwit in the truck, now. Gently, you fools. Y/N- you didnt think it would be that easy, did you?? Ha! We're taking the train to Paris, soon. You've always wanted to go- so keep quiet and enjoy the ride...

Hades:

When you walked into the throne room and saw Hades holding Meg up off the ground precariously by her throat, and you heard him say something about taking over Olympus and Hercules- and Hades noticed you standing there horrified and disgusted- everything stopped.

Hades would know immediately that he fucked up. That you would have a hard time forgiving him- if you ever did at all. He would know.

Hades would be desperate. He’d be pathetic, true slimy used-cars-salesman style; Following you as you storm out of the room and down the hall to your room and begging you all the way. Offering you things which fast develop from foot rubs and chocolate coated strawberries to being Master of the Gods- Master of the World- Master of whatever you want! He tries to convince you that this is a good thing, that he’s doing it for you, so you two can be happy together.

This is all while you’re grabbing your most important things and throwing them into a sack, throwing him poisonous glares because how dare he even look at you right now that make him flinch and be quiet. If only for a second. Overall, the man cannot stop talking.

I love you, babe, you can’t- No, no, you’re not leaving. I’m not gonna just allow-

Okay okay okay, I get it! I get it, I shouldn’t threaten you right now, I get it. I’m sorry. You- you probably need some time to cool off, yeah?? Hey, that makes sense!! I would be the same, yeah?? You know what? Take a week- two! Take two weeks… take all the time y’like. And then when you’re ready, you’ll call me, and we’ll talk! I’ll set out a nice cheese platter, some wine,.. we’ll make it a picnic! It’ll be great! Ba- Babe, you’ll understand, you’ll agree, I promise! This is- this is the best thing for the both of us! I promise! I- I’m only thinking of you, sweetheart, of us. I promise! Baby- after I do this, we’ll have everything! I swear! Everything we ever wanted; You can get that house on the mountainside you had your eye on, doesn’t that sound fabulous??

And Zeus?!

 Zeus?! Zeus, is a needle brained moron who doesn’t deserve- Okay okay! I’m sorry! You’re right, you’re absolutely right, baby how are you always so right about everything?? We'll set him up with a nice cottage on the coast. What??? That’s a good deal! Coconuts, babes in bikinis, the sky- he'll love it! Come on-

The man would end up on his knees, reaching for you, but you just slip out of his way, flashing another terrible glare. He has talked a lot while you packed but you've said barely two words. And its terrifying to him.

Baby… sweetheart, where’re you gonna be? You- you’re comin back, right?

… Just tell me if you’re coming back, please. Gimmie something-

No.

Jafar:

When you walked in and heard Jafar and Iago cackling about marrying the princess and hurting the poor Sultan, and they saw you standing there, Iago immediately flew off leaving more matted feathers on Jafar’s shoulder than usual from the force he used to get away so fast.

Jafar groans, brushing the feathers off him and muttering. Meanwhile you’re horrified, disgusted, creeped out- and about a million other awful emotions all at once, but you stand your ground. You lift your chin and you focus on him. You ask, really? Is that true?? Are you- Are you going to do that??? Is that the plan!?

… an eye roll, is the response you get and that make you feel even sicker. How could you??? As Jafar starts to cross the throne room, at his leisure, towards you- you start to completely lose your composure; Panic building. The- The sultan is a good man! He’s been kind. He’s your friend! I- I- I don’t understand! Jafar, I- Please, explain!

He sighs at that idea and rolls his eyes deeply, getting closer, leading with his snake staff as he always does. I already tried that.

Wh- What?

You heard me, Y/N. Now stay still.

You don’t know what he means by that, but you don’t like it, it- he, scares you. So quickly you try to turn and leave the room, leave him, but he’s too close now and his fingers are surprisingly strong; Holding you forcefully right where you are. That staff’s pushed right in front of your face, the snake’s eyes beginning to glow and burn into yours. This won’t hurt at all, my dear…

… This isn’t the first time you’ve walked in, before.

Lotso:

When you walked into the library, seeing one of the new toys tied to the ‘time out’ chair that Lotso told you (No, no. Swore to you) was a joke, you were shocked. And it was dark, so Lotso didn’t see you at first.

Twitch did. But by that point you’d heard too much, eyes wide and furious. Uh… boss?

Uhuh what Twitch? I’m kinda in the middle of something here-

Your uh… your Keeper’s, here.          

Wha- my- Oh, honey! At first, Lotso tries to act like you don’t even see what’s right in front of you. Like you’re blind. Like you’re stupid. Like he can wash it all away with some papa bear charm and a kind smile- but there is something darker behind it that you see, now. What are you doin’ outta bed, sweetheart?? Its so late! You’ve had a long day. I’ll be with you in just a second, I just… When he realises that your canyon-deep glare isn’t getting any lighter, he lets it go. He lets it all go; All the sweetness and the charm that you knew him for and all that is left is… something cruel. He looks at you in a full deadpan, a cruel and disappointed deadpan that makes you actually feel cold. Physically. Alright, honey, what’d you see?

Everything!

And what do you plan t’do about it, huh?

I, I…

Hmmm?

…

That’s right sweetpea, there aint nothin’ you can do! This is my shop, now. C’mon, come with me, I’ll explain it all to ya, and you’ll see that this is the best thing for everybo-

I’ll leave.

When you say that, all the warmth in the room is sucked out- some of the other toys like Twitch and Ken look to eachother slightly wide eyed behind Lotso’s back. The look on his face turns from patronising to hard, mean, mad.

He can’t accept that. … Grab ‘em, boys.

[johnwickb1tsch]

The Girl Next Door ~ Part 1

A Constantine x Reader fic based on this imagine.

Summary: John Constantine has a crush on you. He wasn’t going to do anything about it though, until you strong arm him into coming over for dinner. Little do you know, this paints a target on your back for the local vampire coven… (I had to write something sweet for my mental health y'all 😆) Rating: Explicit, NSFW, but no dead doves...😮

You are the very archetype of The Girl Next Door. Well, literally. John Constantine lives in 202, and you in 204. You share a wall, and occasionally, he sort of smiles at you when you meet in the hall.

Like tonight, as your arms are full of groceries, returning home after work. You don’t know what he does exactly, but you assume it’s the same for him, though he is only clutching a brown bag that very poorly disguises a bottle of scotch.

“Hi, John,” you say brightly over a proud sprig of celery sticking out of your bag. It’s almost a running joke between the two of you, your sunny brightness aimed at him like a weapon.

There’s a long pause, like always, before he finally answers reluctantly in his deep monotone, “Hi, y/n. Bye, y/n.”

Before you can engage him any further he disappears into his apartment, closing the door hard behind him, the slam in the air like an exclamation point. You stare for a moment at the space where he’d just been, tall, handsome, his suit rumpled, that tie half undone around his neck. He looked like he’d had a rough day, whatever he does.

He dresses like a professional something, but imagining that man as a door to door salesman with his attitude is laughable, and so is the thought of him working amicably in an office setting.

You go inside and put away your groceries, then spread out what you need to make dinner. It’s Friday night, and you’ve had a long week too. You are making comfort food—it’s kind of a shame to eat it alone.

Half an hour later, while the sauce simmers, you find you just can’t stop thinking about that man next door. He seems lonely, every time you see him. There is something about him that just makes you want to wrap him up in a hug.

He’d probably push you off if you tried, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t need a hug.

The thing is…you have this thing. He pretends like you annoy him, but sometimes in the hall, or down in the lobby when you’re collecting your mail, you catch him looking at you when he thinks you’re not looking. And the look on his face is never exactly lecherous, like you’re used to with most men who eye-fuck you on the street. His look is more…just…lost, and it tugs at your heartstrings.

You’re sure he’ll say no, but your feet seem to carry you of their own accord, when you find yourself at his door, knocking loudly.

Some time passes and you hear him grumbling on the other side before he jerks open the portal just a crack. “Yeah?”

“I’m making my Nonna’s meatballs and marinara for dinner.”

“Good for you?”

“From scratch.”

“Sounds time consuming.”

“Want to join me?”

There is a very long pause, in which he just looks at you. You can tell he’s at least one drink in already; you smell the fumes on his breath. And maybe it’s stupid, and you’re asking for trouble you don’t need, but the thought that that will be this man’s only dinner squeezes your heart.

Finally, he answers with a question. “Why?”

“Why not?”

This, amusingly, seems to actually flummox him, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. In the end he narrows his eyes at you, (those lovely brown eyes, you can’t help but notice), like you’re trying to trick him into something truly heinous.

It’s…kind of funny, truth be told, and you can’t stop yourself from grinning. “Come on. I know you can smell it.” Your door is wide open.

“Maybe I don’t like Italian food.”

“Everyone likes Italian food.”

“Maybe you’re a terrible cook.”

“Only one way to find out.”

He actually growls a little, which for some reason gives you a thrill to the base of your spine.  

You really need to get back to stir the sauce. You didn’t anticipate getting this far in the conversation (argument?) with him, honestly.

“Well, door’s open,” you tell him, turning to go. You throw one last little come-hither look over your shoulder, to find he is definitely staring at your ass. Or, glaring, more like.

Maybe you have a screw loose, but you find this adorable.

You go back to your sauce, and lose yourself in the preparation of the other ingredients, watching the pasta to make sure it doesn’t boil over, checking that the meatballs aren’t burning. (Your oven is a dinosaur from the 1970s, and sometimes the temp spikes for no reason).

You are about to drain the pasta, when you find a tall, rumpled man standing beside your rickety thrift store table, looking a bit confused as to how he’d ended up there. He looks so big in your shoebox of an apartment, and if you’re being honest, maybe there’s a little bit of lust tied up with your desire to mother this man.

You offer him a welcoming smile, and for a moment, you swear he looks like he’s drowning.

“Glad you could make it,” you say somewhat teasingly.

“Can I…help?” He says the last word like it’s a completely alien thing to him.

“I’ve pretty much got it under control…” you say, which is mostly true. You peruse the sparse offerings of your 3 slot wine rack, picking a $6 bottle of Chilean red blend. “Want to open this?” The face he makes looking down at the decidedly weaker-than-whiskey beverage is almost comical, but he takes the corkscrew from you as you transfer the meal to serving bowls and put glasses of water on the table.

He removes his suit jacket at the table, rolling his sleeves up over muscular forearms that are, if you’re being honest, totally distracting. After you sit down you fill your plates, and the first few minutes of the meal goes by in semi-awkward silence.

Surprisingly, it’s John who speaks first. “This is really good,” he admits begrudgingly, and you utterly fail to damper your I-told-you-so smile.

“Thanks.”

You make halting small talk. You get the feeling he doesn’t chat much with anyone, of his own free will. When you ask him how his week was, his simple answer is, “Hell.”

You have no idea he’s being literal.

You ask him what he does, and he tells you he’s a sort of private detective, and he can’t really talk about it. He asks what you do, more to get the conversation off of him than anything. You let it go, for now, telling him that you’re a receptionist at an office building for a mega corporation downtown.

“Fitting,” he grumbles, you think because of your innate cheerfulness.

You feel the urge to tell him that half the time it’s just a thing you wear like armor—but you don’t know each other that well yet.

As you loosen up a little with food and more wine, he slowly asks more questions about you, where you’re from, what do you do in your free time, and maybe it’s stupid, but you feel like he’s actually kind of interested in your answers.

You enlist him to help you with the dishes, and as you stand together at the sink you bump him playfully with your hip. He peers down at you, his dark hair in his eyes. He is so tall, and there is a hint of a smile on his lips now. For him, it’s like a full-on toothy grin, and it doesn’t fail to quicken your heart in your chest.

Constantine can’t help but feel…puzzled, by you. Yes, you’re his cute neighbor, who teasingly likes to hail him in the hallway. And maybe he does look forward to the way your eyes sparkle, when he begrudgingly acknowledges you before retreating to the safety of the quiet solitude of his apartment. But you are so…nice. He can just tell, and he has no idea what a girl like you might want with a degenerate demon hunter like him. There are enough assholes in L.A. who would be happy to take you out. Why would you waste your time chasing him down?

And there is that smaller nagging voice in the back of his head. You are damned, and you don’t deserve her.

Fuck if it doesn’t make him want to touch you even more.

Later, he will look back on this as a moment of weakness. You, looking up at him with your big eyes, like you're old friends. You made him feel, for a fleeting moment, like he wasn't some doomed asshole with nothing to live for. Like he was an actual person. A man who could matter, to someone. Maybe even to you.

When you splash him with a flick of dishwater after he insults your favorite TV show he narrows his eyes down at you, and you get the fluttery feeling that he might like to eat you a moment before he cups your cheek in his big hand and catches your lips in a kiss. It’s everything you’d hoped for, even if you never actually expected it to really happen. Maybe the wine helped? Or maybe…he likes you? Luckily you get over your surprise, standing on tiptoe to meet him, looping your arms around his neck.

You yip with surprise when suddenly he lifts you to sit on the sink, pulling you close as the kiss deepens. “Was getting a crick in my neck…”

Your answering laugh is shaky at best. “Sorry.”

“Is this why you invited me over?”

“Sort of?”

He lifts an eyebrow at that, waiting for further explanation. You reach up to toy with his collar, tracing the line of his loosened tie, totally distracted by the shape of his collarbone and what’s bared of his neck. This man has a jawline that looks like it was sculpted from stone. There’s no shortage of beautiful people in L.A., of course, but you’ve never met anyone quite like him. He doesn’t seem vain, an oddity in this town, but underneath his rumpled suit this man definitely has the physique of a movie star. You try not to dwell on how odd it is, that he would choose to spend his Friday night with you.

“I mean, I’m definitely not complaining,” you offer with a sly little smile.

However, his answering expression is nothing less than stern.

“I’m warning you now, sweetheart. I’m not boyfriend material, and I’m not going to be your project.”

Even if both of those things may have crossed your mind, your thoughts are too hazy with lust from his lips on yours. Maybe he’s a grouch…but he’s a great kisser.

“Okay.”

“Good.”

He kisses you again, and you melt even more under his exacting touch. Those mitts for hands make you feel small, and you arch against him as they travel the ladder of your ribcage to your spine.

The wine was good, but you know you are mostly drunk on him.

Then he is lifting you again, like you weigh nothing, carrying you to the couch. You settle down into the worn vintage cushions and make-out like teenagers, all lips and teeth and pawing hands.

You’re the one who actually initiates something further, pulling off your shirt, and John blinks as he takes in the swathes of your bare skin. He glares at your lacy bra like it owes him money, and you can’t help but laugh breathily. You haven’t felt thishappy in a long time, truth be told.

“Something funny?” he asks, nipping at your neck. With a flick of his fingers your bra falls away, and your breasts are in his hands, and you forget how to speak intelligibly. With his lips on your nipples you manage to loosen his tie without strangling him, unbuttoning his shirt with an increasing desperation. You sigh when at last the bare skin of your torsos is pressed together, his weight pressing you down into the couch.

It occurs to you, how small your couch is, and this man is definitely over six feet tall. “Would you prefer…the bed?” you ask between kisses.

“Up to you.”

You nod, but find you can’t really stop kissing him long enough to move. You can feel the impressive length of him through his pants and yours, aligned with your center and you dry grind, thinking even that is wonderful. He, however, lets out a frustrated growl, and pulls you to your feet again.

Dizzy with desire, you lead him by the hand to your bedroom, and you make it there eventually between kisses and shedding the rest of your clothing. His thick fingers between your legs are a marvel. “So fucking wet for me,” he groans, and it’s too embarrassing to admit, but sometimes after seeing him in the hallway you’ve fantasized about something like this going down, and it always leaves you soaked.

“I…like you,” you admit, moaning as a second finger finds its way inside you, his thumb circling your clit.

“I still don’t get that,” he admits, but kisses you hard before you really have a chance to answer. It would be a little too crazy, to tell him right now that you’ve always just felt pulled towards him, like the Universe was giving you a nudge any time you saw him. He’d laugh at you, or he’d leave, and either of those at this point would be unbearable.

You are close already under his masterful touch, and you whine even as you flex your hips, all your muscles tightening in anticipation.

“Don’t make me cum yet,” you beg. “I want you.”

He groans in response to that, desperately pawing through the pockets of his pants on the floor for a condom. You watch with stars in your eyes, propped on your elbows as he rips open the packet and rolls it on that impressive length, your lip between your teeth. You feel empty while looking at him like this, longing to be filled to the brim.

There is a moment of raw eye contact between you that sears your soul, as he pulls you to the edge of the bed with those large hands on your thighs. For a fleeting second he looks almost vulnerable. It’s there and gone like a ripple in a pool, then his thick tip is at your entrance, and he is slowly pushing himself inside you.

It’s better than you ever dreamed, and you arch against him, moaning as he works inside.

“Fuck you are tight,” he pants in your ear, your walls clenching around him, seeming to fight him even as they crave the relief of his big cock stretching you out. You breathe deeply, easing him in. When at last he bottoms out inside you, your head rocks back behind your shoulders, blissed out.

“God, you feel good.”

This man actually snorts at the comment, though his voice is pure gravel, rough with need. “He wouldn't appreciate you saying it about me.”

Your laugh is half moan. 

“What, are you on a first name basis?”

“Yeah, sort of.”

You're not sure what to make of that, and you're too cock drunk to even begin to reason it out.

He can tell you're a nice girl. Or at least, that's his perception of you. So he doesn’t bend you at impossible angles or whisper filthy things in your ear. Really, there's no time for it. Just pure vanilla missionary in your sweet little snatch is more than enough to slake his need tonight. He fucks you on your back, his thumb on your clit as he glides in and out of your tight little pussy, your legs wrapped around his narrow hips.

Your pleasure builds in the cradle of your hips, wound so tight you feel like you'll either die, or fly. Usually...alright, it's never like this for you the first time with someone. There's always fumbling, and awkwardness, and half the time, if you're honest, a faked orgasm because you're too shy or too embarrassed to ask for what you really need from a new partner, afraid he’ll think you’re too much trouble. 

Well, that is not what is happening tonight. Tonight, John is taking care of you, and you can hardly believe your luck. 

“You gonna cum for me, baby?”

“Yeah.” Your reply is breathy, and you almost laugh just for the pure, unexpected joy you feel in that moment. “Oh, John...” Your ability to say real words escapes you as your body erupts with scintillating pleasure spreading through your loins. You actually scream, and the fierce clench of your cunt around him brings him too. He loses himself with a groan, his face buried in the curve of your shoulder as he shudders against you.

Afterwards, you are laying against his broad chest, his heartbeat a steady drum in your ear. You don't know it, but this is not something John Constantine usually does. Snuggling. But you are sweet and soft in his arms, and he can't quite bring himself to vacate the premises just yet. In fact, he's so comfortable that he dozes, and you follow close behind him.

In the middle of the night you wake to kisses on your neck and caresses down your curvy side. You sigh, arching into him. You feel his manhood at the seam of your buttocks, his thick head kissing your hole.

“Fuck. Sorry,” he whispers with a shuddering sigh, rolling over to reach for his pants again. How many condoms did he bring? The fact that he's not careless with you, even in the sleepy haze of the early morning second round, is incredibly endearing to you. How many times have you had to insist, and been made to feel like an uncool bitch for not wanting to risk pregnancy or disease in the heat of the moment?

Maybe it's utterly insane, but you're half in love already as he hauls you on top of him, his cock freshly capped with a new Trojan Magnum.

You are still drenched from earlier, and it's no problem to impale yourself upon him.

In the blue dark of early morning your eyes meet his, and again you sense that fleeting vulnerability before he distracts you with that clever fucking thumb finding your sensitive bud. He works you just right as you ride his beautiful dick with your back arched taut as a bow, his other hand toying with your nipple. It makes you cum in record time, so quickly it's almost embarrassing, though he doesn’t seem to mind. Within a minute he's followed along with you, his big hands digging into your hips hard enough to bruise as he reaches his own release. Your name on his lips raises gooseflesh all over your body, as though your lovemaking has invoked something powerful, something binding.

You collapse against his chest, and the both of you nearly fall asleep again, with him still inside you. 

“Let me get this thing off,” he requests gently, and with a plaintive little groan you roll off of him, curling in at his side. He knots the condom before throwing it in the general direction of the bin. You are both too tired to care if it actually hit home. 

Again, you snuggle close and the two of you doze tangled together until morning light streams through the window. 

You wake to kisses on your forehead this time. It's a miracle you rouse. You're a heavy sleeper—and he worked you out. 

“I have to go, honey.” 

“Want breakfast?” you murmur, half asleep.

“Yeah, but I can’t. Rain check?”

“Okay.”

Through half lidded eyes you watch as he gets dressed, half way, at least. A good portion of his clothes are still strewn around the living room.

My god, what a beautiful specimen of manhood you bagged last night. Nonna would be proud. She was an appreciator of male beauty, and if you told her that her special recipe had gotten you the best sex of your life with the handsome boy next door she would have cackled with delight.

“See you soon?” you dare ask as he buttons his pants. 

“Yeah,” he agrees, after a pause, bending down to kiss you one more time, with tongue this round. 

“Careful mister, or you'll start round three.”

“Jesus, woman,” he teases with that heartbreaking almost-smile. “You've drained me dry.” 

You look him over appraisingly.

“Doubt it.” 

He huffs with laughter, shaking his head. 

“Bye, y/n.”

You sigh. 

“Bye, John.”

With a surprisingly heavy heart, you watch the best lay of your life slip out the door. You really hope you'll get to do this again, and not just go back to awkward acknowledgements in the hallway.

***

Maybe John Constantine had told you he’s not boyfriend material.

But earlier that day, while he was having a smoke out on the sidewalk, he found himself looking over at the wares of a flower vendor and wondering if you would like them. He didn’t buy any, of course.

He wasn’t a total sap.

But it’s possible as he scales the stairs to his apartment, there’s a lightness in his heart as he thinks of you, and the possibility of seeing you in the hallway.

That's when he finds your door ajar, and your apartment ransacked, and a note in red ink on the table addressed to him.

If you want to see your girlfriend alive again, come to this address.

It’s a place in L.A. that’s deep in vampire territory, and something black and heavy weighs like a stone in the pit of John’s stomach. He’d deported a few big players of the local coven not too long ago, and he’d figured the Master would want revenge, but this?

Fucking diabolical—and just their style.

Goddamn vampires.

Without a moment to lose, he goes to his apartment to get his kit, praying he’s not too late to save you.  

[aliesbienish]

Heavy is the head that wears the crown

Buddie x gn! reader (established) Domestic fluff

"Boy's I feel like measuring the doorframe was something you two should have thought of. You are firefighters after all!"

"Babe, you clearly forgot you were suppose to be the smart one in this relationship," Buck declared, ready to admit defeat.

"Mis amores, stop laying blame where it doesn't belong,"

"And where does it belong Eddie?" You questioned.

"Obviously at the feet of the salesman who sold us this mattress in the first place. If we had gone with the cheaper option we would not be in this mess,"

"To be fair to the poor man, it would only fit because it was hardly thicker than a camping bed. You could probably fold it like paper. Maybe we should have just stuck with the old bed."

"(Y/n/n) honey, I love sleeping close to you I do. But I cannot face another summer in that queen bed, it's barely fit for two people let alone three. And everyone time Chris comes in, in the middle of the night, I'm the one who always ends up with an elbow to the face."

"Yeah I wonder where he got that from," Buck grumbled under his breath, rubbing the bruise he had gotten on his forearm from Eddie the previous night.

"Okay okay, you're right. We needed this. And I am determined we will get it into the bedroom. So step aside, let me have a go,"

"Honey if we couldn't get it in I'm not too sure what you expect to happen... but sure yep have a go," Eddie backtracked, catching your withering glare.

You backed up, confusing the boys, before breaking into a sprint towards the mattress jammed in the doorframe. With one mighty push, an impressive yell to go with it, the mattress finally gave and you were through into the bedroom. The momentum toppled the mattress over and you fell ontop.

"Success!!" You yelled, star-fished on top of the mattress. "You two better start reconsidering what you bring to our relationship cause it looks like I am the smart one and the strong one! I think I rule this relationship"

"And we bow down," Buck declares as they both tumble onto the mattress and start peppering you with kisses.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

My first foray into 911 fandom, hope you enjoyed. Feel free to shoot through any requests, but be warned I'm only a couple seasons in so can't yet write for Tommy, Ravi etc.

[ghouldump]

here a silly request... louis has a sister and that's who lestat is interested in and louis is just a means for lestat to get what he really wants! I'm imagining that scene with lestat, louis and lily where lestat practically just used lily so he could sleep with louis, Louis will be so much more worried about Lily that he won't even notice Lestat seducing his sister 🤫🤭

Spider And The Fly | Lestat De Lioncourt x Reader

ෆ when Lestat uses Louis as bait to lure and trap his actual prey.

this is FAR from silly !!

Fierce, Secretive, Cunning, you were quite a vixen with everyone wrapped around your fingers as if you were a goody two shoes - but Lestat could see right through you. He remembered the first night he'd laid eyes on you.

You had no business being on this side of the city, some salesman pressed against you. You'd paid one of the many prostitutes to warn you, if Louis came through, and low and behold, he had just parked.

Pushing away from the guy, you pretended to be uninterested, unlike seconds ago. He kept trying to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, but you kept shrugging him off.

“What’s the matter, darling?” he asked, his hand brushing down the sleeve of your dress.

“I need to get going,” you said, standing, but he followed, throwing the money on the table, and going outside.

“Hold on now, princess,” he said, trying to stop you and kiss on your cheek, while you attempted to push him away. Unexpectedly, the man was punched, groaning, confusedly staring up at Louis.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked you.

“I came with some friends, but they left, so I was going to get a drink,” you said, pouting at your dearest big brother.

“Hell no, you don't need a drink, get in that car and wait for me,” he pointed. Nodding a solemn expression in place, you walked to the car. As you passed Lestat, he could see the mischievous glint in your eyes, you could put on a good show.

He had to get close to you, he found out about your background, your usual circle of friends and associates. How other than Louis, you were the only other child to have some sort of socialite status. You were popular amongst men, and while you weren't a loose young woman, you weren't as innocent as you led your family to believe.

There was only one problem, you were impossible to get to. Louis was protective, extremely protective, perhaps it was his way of projecting his fears. Whoring out women, day and night, yet the idea of his baby sister doing the same thing bothered him. Paul, when he wasn't chasing down Louis, expressing his dislike of Levi, or at church, he was trying to warn you to stay away from men, in general, and Grace was too focused on her wedding to care as much as the two. It was challenging, but Lestat wasn't going to give up easily.

He became close with Louis, and while he enjoyed the man and what he had to offer, Lestat already had made his decision. He recalled fondly, the first time you'd met each other.

Sitting at the dinner table, next to Louis, he was cordial with everyone in vain conversation. Abruptly, the front door could be heard opening, before your head poked into the dining room.

“Y/n, where have you been?” your mother started.

“I was over at Anna’s house,” you said, as you waved everyone at the table, making your way to the empty seat next to Louis.

“This is Lestat de Lioncourt, he is a friend of mine, this is the baby of the family, Y/n,” Louis said, as you sat down. Facing the man, you thought how handsome he was. He was probably Louis’ lover, heaven knows he had never brought a woman home.

“I have heard many things about you,” he said.

“I hope only good,” you smirked, briefly glancing at Louis.

“Of course, Louis goes on and on about you,” he smirked.

The conversation shifted back to Grace and Levi as they went on and on about their wedding. Picking at your food, you sat uninterested in the topic. “Is this all they talk about?” you heard, making you look up at Lestat.

His mouth hadn't moved, as he still faced Grace, nodding his head as she spoke to him. “I see why you're always disappearing” you heard again.

“Excuse me?” you spoke, everyone’s attention turning to you.

“Something wrong?” your mother asked.

“Nevermind,” you shook your head.

“Be careful, ma chérie, they’ll think you're like your brother,” he said, this time when you looked up, everyone sat frozen.

“What is this?” you asked him.

“A specialty of mine,” he smiled.

“Unfreeze them,” you demanded.

“I’d like a word, I have anticipated this moment, since the first time I laid eyes on you,” he smiled.

“You and Louis, are you not together?” you asked him.

“We’re colleagues, who like a little fun on the side, but you, your brother is very protective over you, a precious gem, inaccessible, but I wonder if he knows you aren't even a virgin. Even I can't help but want a taste from you,” he said before everyone unfroze, continuing their conversation.

This was only the beginning of seeing and questioning the essence of the Frenchmen. It was also the start of the inception of Lestat’s plan.

“You okay, pudding? You look a little on edge,” Mr. Clèmence asked, reaching to touch your lower back. He was your father’s business colleague before he passed, and also a creep. Not long after you turned twenty-one, he began trying to bed you.

“I’m okay, I think I‘ll have another drink,” you smiled.

“Go on and hurry back, we have some catching up to do,” he whistled as you walked away.

Rolling your eyes, you regretted accepting the party invite and having to deal with his perverted tendencies. Walking to the bar, you made small talk with a few old friends along the way, thanking the bartender as he replaced your empty glass.

Making your way back to the table, your heart sped up, seeing Mr. de Lioncourt. What was he doing here? When did he get here? Was Louis with him? Why was he talking to Mr. Clémence? They seemed to be having an interesting conversation until you approached.

“I’ll be right back, Y/n,” Mr. Clémence said, standing up, and walking away. He looked hypnotized, never meeting your eyes as he left.

“Join me”

“Is Louis here?” you asked him.

“Louis is working, he has an establishment to run,” he smirked, crossing his leg over the other, as you sat down.

“Then what are you doing here? You don't want business with Mr. Clémence, he's a crook,” you laughed.

“Yes, depraved swine, I am here to see the star of the night, Ms. de Point du Lac,” he said, smirking.

“You seem special to my brother, I don't want to cross any boundaries,” you shook your head.

“Is Louis the only thing stopping you? Or is it the act you plan to keep up for your family and friends? You and I aren't much different, carefree, meant to live your truth, unapologetically, without fear of judgment”

“You wouldn't understand, we’re from two different worlds,” you told him.

“And with just the snap of my fingers, I can make you a part of my world, I just need a yes,” he said, you didn't realize how close he was to you, until now.

“Mr. de Lioncourt-

“Lestat,” he corrected you. Gulping, you stared into his eyes, he was inches away from your face.

“Lestat, I appreciate your offer, but I will have to decline. Louis has the business, Grace has Levi, Paul has the church, and Mama. It is up to me to make a name for myself and have something of my own. I can not ruin my future because I was known as the French man’s créole plaything, good night,” winking at him, before standing up to leave.

Your rejection only added fuel to Lestat’s burning lust. He bit his lip, watching as you walked away, and headed toward your driver. So set on what you needed in life, or what you thought you needed, you were willing to sacrifice everything you were. Marrying an attractive, but poor man, or an old ugly rich man, and for what? To please your family and finally receive the approval you craved, to show them you had something of your own - but this, this fantasy, was not what you truly wanted. You wanted freedom, from misogyny, racism, social pressures, etc.

“I will set you free, from the troubles of this life, ma chérie”

Time went on and Lestat was no longer a concern in your mind. You'd seen him at a few events, sometimes alone, sometimes with Louis, regardless, you kept your distance. He'd stare, but you ignored him. Eventually, you didn't even acknowledge him anymore. There was still a small feeling that you were being watched, or followed, but you ignored it until it went away completely.

“Paul, you have a fever, mama said to lay down,” you told him, helping him into bed.

“I’m alright, really, I just need to see Father-

“I’m more than sure God wants you to get better before you go to church,” you said, sternly. Putting his head down, he nodded, climbing back into bed.

He had been sick with a nasty cold, and you had been helping your mother take care of him, since everyone else was too busy.

“I have soup,” your mother announced, holding the tray with the porcelain bowl on top.

“Good, and now you can explain to your son why he needs to get better before he runs off to church”

“Paul, Y/n is right and you're risking getting others sick,” she told him, setting down the tray.

“Where’s Louis, maybe we could read a few chapters together, like old times,” he said, hopeful.

“Sorry, Paul, he's working-

“Go get him, he won't mind coming home,” your mother told you.

“How am I supposed to know where he is? You want me to go around the French Quarter screaming his name?” you asked. Louis was never in one place for long and it would be a struggle to find him, now that the sun was setting.

“Check at Mr. de Lioncourt’s house, and the red light district,” she said lowly.

“No, Y/n, you have to stay away from that devil,” Paul shook his head.

“His address is in the address book, please, I think it would be nice for him to bond with Louis,” she said. Holding back the urge to groan, you nodded, leaving the room.

She was always trying to accommodate Paul, he had his issues, please Louis, he carried the family, help Grace, she was the first to marry - but what about you?

Taking the car, you went straight to the red-light district. You frowned at the smell in the air, as you looked around. You didn't see him or his car anywhere in sight.

“Hey, have you seen Louis?” you asked Bricktop, one of his madames.

“He left a while ago, either went home or to that French man, he didn't say,” she told you.

“Thank you,” you said, reaching over, giving her a few cents, before driving off to his home.

By the time you parked, night completely covered the sky. You couldn't differentiate between the vehicles, as you pulled up to the curb. Turning off the car, you hope that he is in this house because you did not want to see this man for the fun of it.

Anxiously, you approached the gate, raising your hand to knock, and you realized it was unlocked. Making your way to the door, you reached to knock, when the door opened.

“Lestat”

“Y/n, it is a pleasure to see you, what can I do for you, at this hour?” he smirked.

“I'm looking for Louis, is he here?” you asked, standing on your toes, attempting to look over his shoulder.

“Come in,” he opened the door, stepping to the side to let you in.

“Well, is he here?” you asked, as you walked in, watching him shut the door.

“You knew he wasn't here, ma chérie, but you had to give in to your desire only a little, to see me again,” he grinned at you.

“What the hell are you talking about Lestat, get out of the way,” you said, seeing that he stood in front of the door.

“You can fool them, but I see you, I know you wanted to give in, you want to give in, but you're too afraid, you'd rather hide your true self from the world,” he said, moving out of the way, walking towards the living room.

Rolling your eyes, you went to reach for the door but stopped when he spoke again.

“Just so you know, what happens in secret, is always revealed”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Mr. Clémence, Mr. Smith, Gabriel, William, Isaiah, he seems like he is you're favorite. Funny how people with the very names from the Bible are usually the most troubled, I mean, look at your brother,” he laughed.

“Shut your fucking mouth, you don't get to speak about him or any of them-

“I wonder how poor Louis would take it, knowing his innocent baby sister is a femme fatale, struggling with hypersexuality because she didn't get enough love as a child”

“Does Louis know that you're a dick, he'd love to hear that,” you spat, but it only made him smile.

“Bathrooms, boats, fields, cars, at the park, it would break his heart, to know how erotic you truly are”

“You've been watching me, you pervert,” you realized.

“I think you're entire family would be disappointed, moans such as those could only be made by a nymphomaniac”

“So tell them, is that what you want to do? Are you jealous? They get to have me any way they'd like, but you were rejected,” you taunted.

“I have you where I want you,” he smirked, tilting his head.

“The only place you'd ever have me is in your dreams”

“Is that why you haven't left yet? I moved from by the door and you followed me, you want to argue for my attention, but it is already set on you. I could never be jealous of any of them, they don't make your heart skip a beat, make you nervously chew your lip, clench your thighs together, I do,” he said, approaching you.

“Asshole,” you said, backing away from, them and turning to leave. However, your feet stopped on their own, running back to him, jumping into his arms.

Pressing your lips against his, you moaned as he hungrily explored your mouth, reaching for the back of your dress. Lestat was frightening, not because of how mysterious he came off to be, or his appearance, or background - but because he was always spot on. He had been right about you.

You last track of time, Louis wasn't even a thought, as you gave yourself to Lestat. In his lap, on the loveseat, panting in the most ungodly manner, you gasped, as he bit into your neck. The pain was quickly replaced by pleasure, his cool arms wrapping around your warm skin. It wasn't until the euphoric ecstasy came down, that you realized what you'd done and with whom. He was special to Louis and yet here you were, lying against him.

“I’m sorry, I need to go,” you said, scurrying to get dressed, your hand going to your neck, holding the two holes in your skin. He smiled, satisfied, for now, at least he had more access to you, with his blood in your system.

Rushing home, you tried to look as natural as possible, taking the small backup scarf from your purse, tying it around your neck before entering the house, and going upstairs to your room.

“Hey, they told me you went looking for me?” Louis spoke from the bottom of the stairs, making you turn around. Your eyes softened, guilt plaguing your mind of your actions.

“Yeah, I stopped by the district, at Mr. de Lioncourt’s and I drove around a while,” you lied.

“Sorry about that, I went to see Ms. Lily, her birthday recently passed,” he said.

“It's okay,” you said, told him.

“What’s with the scarf? It’s hot as hell tonight,” he chuckled.

“The mosquitoes are tearing me a new one, I had to hide my neck, I can't wait until winter,” you said, going up the steps as he laughed.

Entering your room, you immediately pulled off the cloth, staring into your reflection. Wincing, your fingers pressed against the two holes, moving to your lips, you thought about Lestat, how he kissed you as if it was his last kiss. Held you, as if you would slip away. He was everything you could ever want, and he was right about all of the things he'd said and for that reason, you would have to stay away from him.

“I’m so glad you're feeling better, partying just isn't the same without you,” Anna, your best friend, pouted, intertwining your arms, as you both sat in the back of the car.

“I know, I think I caught whatever Paul had,” you said to her.

“Lie”

You heard, making you glance around, but he was nowhere in sight. It had been two long weeks of hiding away in your room. At first, it was only until the bruising went down, no amount of makeup could hide the holes in your neck. Then it started, calling for you, telling you to come to him, but you couldn't, you wouldn't. He plagued your mind, crept into your thoughts and dreams. You felt crazy until it finally stopped, immediately, you were rejuvenated and accepted Anna’s invitation to her boy toys party.

“Your mother had you tending to him again? I swear, you need to get married Y/n so you can get away from them,” she said.

“Uh, Laurent lives in the French Quarter?” you asked, feeling the hairs on your body standing, as you recognized the area.

“Yeah, I forgot to tell you, he recently bought a house here,” she said, your eyes landed on his house, as the driver drove past.

Parking in front of the large home, you stared down the road, he stayed minutes away.

“Come on, I can't wait for you to meet him,” Anna squealed, dragging you into the house.

As the party began, houses down the road, Louis faced a dilemma. He and Lestat had been growing closer, concerning too many. He knew by their looks the multitude of slurs they were biting back. Lestat had brought Ms. Lily to his house, insinuating on a threesome. However, after a little kissing, he whispered into her ear, grinning as she fell into a deep sleep.

“Ms. Lily?” Louis pulled away, worriedly staring at her.

“She is only sleeping, where were we?”

“I’m supposed to trust your word, wake her up?” he said, lightly shaking her.

“I can't, she's in a deep sleep, she’ll wake up…eventually,” he chuckled to himself.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, she's innocent,” Louis screamed at him.

“When has prostitution become innocent?” Lestat laughed, watching as Louis picked her up, carrying her out of the house.

“Stay away from me”

“Y/n, come to me, I can not wait much longer, ma chérie,” he called out.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you leaned against the wall, the glass to your lips, as you listened to Anna’s boyfriend and his friends go about uninteresting matters.

“Ma chérie, I will set you free”

“Get out of my head,” you muttered under your breath, looking off to the side.

“You said something?” Anna asked you.

“No, I think I seen someone I know, I’ll be right back,” you excused yourself, going outside.

“Y/n, come,” he said, as soon as you were outside. You were beginning to panic, your body moving on its own, headed to his house. To his front door, until you reached for the knob, entering. Going to the living room, you stopped, his back facing you, as he stood in front of the piano.

“Why are you doing this to me? You have Louis,” you asked him.

“I have never wanted Louis, it was always you,” he said, as he finally faced you.

“He just left and wants me to stay away from him, you have no competition, ma chérie,” he continued.

“Lestat, I told you, I can't-

“I love you, and I see you, your efforts, your attempts to please everyone around you, to live up to the standard they have for you - but you don't need that with me. There is nothing too little or too much, you could do, to change the unconditional love that has grown,” he said. Embarrassed, you covered your face as you began to cry. You couldn't recount a time anyone had ever said something as loving.

“You don't want me, I’ve pretended my whole life-

“I want nothing more than to have you, and so you've done a little acting, it doesn't matter. Accept me, and your life will start anew, and you can decide, according to your standards what is best,” he said, he was in front of you within milliseconds, reaching for your hand.

“What are you?” you asked him.

“I will teach you, what I am, what you are, and what you're meant to be, I just need a yes, a simple nod from your beautiful head,” he said, caressing your hand.

Staring into his pale eyes, you wiped your tears, before hesitantly nodding.

“Yes,” you said, taken by surprise when he pressed his lips against your own. Kissing along your neck, you released airy moans, your eyes shut. Taking the back of his hand, he wiped the makeup from your neck, revealing the mole-like scarring from the bite.

“Your new life starts now,” he said, his fangs sinking into your neck.

In the end, the fly was left tangled in the webs of the beautiful spider, awaiting death. Lestat had succeeded and he couldn't wait for the eternity ahead, spent together.

[naurimastaur]

Gingerism

Summary: In which George and Fred devise a plan to trick y/n into admitting their feelings for George

Pairing: George weasley x nonbinary!reader

Tw: my attempt at writing xx

Please don’t take this seriously this one is just for fun!

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

“Georgie?” Fred called out smacking the back of George’s head in the process. “Are you going to sit there like a stupid git for the rest of your life staring at them, or are you actually going to do something about it?” George sort of fancied his best friend y/n. They were awkward. He was awkward. It was a mess.

“I dunno, I just, what If I ruin everything?” He replied defeated, an almost foreign response coming from the twins, who in their approach to everything, were annoyingly cocky.

“I don’t doubt that,” Fred replied unhelpful. It was in his nature to be a dickhead at all times.“But this is y/n we’re talking about! We’ll just ban them from the burrow or something if they say no.” There was a reason no one went to the twins for advice.

George looked to his brother, deadpan. Fred looked back, grinning.

“ Or,” he suddenly lit up, an idea brewing in his head. “what if we get our hands on some of that amortentia thing? Say we need their help and before you know it theyre all blah blah blah dreamy George smell and we’ll know!!!!” It was almost certainly a failing plan, but it was better than anything George had in mind and sadly he shared his brother’s brain cells. Or lack thereof.

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

“ OI y/n!” Fred called out. “ George and I are testing out a new product and we would be honoured if you and your royal nose gave it a try. It’s a real business investment!” His accent mocking that of a commercial salesman from the muggle tvs.

“Fred Weasley if you think I’d willingly stick my face anywhere near something you have made, you are a bigger idiot than you make yourself out to be,” they responded. Having been best friends with the twins for five years, they had long learnt their lesson on trust and why exactly not to place it in gingers. They gave one last unimpressed look and walked away.

Fred and George shared a look. Perhaps if they actually thought plans through they wouldn’t be in this position right now.

“ Well hey!” Fred said “ At least they spoke to you! That’s a step!”

“No you git, they spoke to you.”

“ Yes but you look like me so it’s all the same,” Fred replied, once again trying to lighten the mood. “ What if we get Hermione to try it? They won’t suspect anything if it comes from her.” Thus another plan equally as devastating was formed.

It only took a couple of hours of threats and promises no one intended to keep to get Hermione on board. She agreed based on the terms that the twins would leave her alone to revise after. Short time pain for long term gain some would say.

“Hey y,n!” Hermione smiled ever as friendly, walking over to where y/n was in the great hall. “Im sorry to bother you but we’ve been assigned this potion and I can’t seem to figure out the ingredients. I was thinking since you’re a fifth year you might know them?” Hermione was as good at lying as the twins were at making plans.

“ The twins didn’t set you up for this did they?” Y/n replied unconvinced.

“ No! Merlin no! I’m really stressed over this y/n and I really thought you could help me but if you can’t take me seriously I’ll ask elsewhere.” Maybe Hermione wasnt that bad after all.

“Oh no I’m sorry! Of course I’ll help. Alright I smell rain and-,” they paused after seeing a tuft of ginger hair appearing from under one of the tables from the corner of their eye, a pair of brown eyes following, most certainly that of Fred weasley. Hermione, the brightest witch of her age, seemed to have fallen victim to a Weasley scheme. Depressing. Y/n decided they weren’t going to let themself miss out on the fun.

“And?” Hermione near shouted, clearly trying to direct the attention back to herself but forgetting human social skills in the process.

“And-Oh! This last smell is kind of like husky?” They said uncertain. “I totally get why you couldn’t figure it out. I’m so sure I’ve smelt it before though.” Hermione quickly responded with a ‘mhm’, unsure where this was going and uninterested all the same.

“Oh I know! This smells like Snape’s hair! I can almost taste the grease,” they replied with the most genuine smile they could manage. They had nothing against Hermione, but this awkward, subtle form of revenge was far more entertaining than they had anticipated.

Hermione paused, clearly filled with regret and remorse for what she had inserted herself into. “You-.” She exhaled before starting again. ”You know what professor Snape’s hair smells like?” She replied cringing but slightly curious. Maybe she could buy the professor shampoo or something to get on his good side, after all Gryffindor needs all the house points they can get.

“Oh yeah I’ve taken a couple of sniffs before when he wasn’t looking,” y/n grinned. ”Do you think he noticed?” Now Hermione was just disturbed. She stared blankly at y/n before taking the potion from their grasp and walking away. This is what she gets for choosing to socialise instead of revising.

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

Waiting in the common room was George, an accomplished grin set on his face when Hermione walked in, which slowly faded when he saw her face. Not that that wasn’t his usual reaction when he saw the know-it-all.

“So?” He questioned fishing for a response. “How’d it go?”

Hermione stared blankly back at him.

“Unless you’re professor snape it seems they dont have any interest.”

George was really beginning to regret his existence.

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

A/n: this was way longer than I had anticipated and was also marinating in the drafts much like the nits in Snape’s hair <3

While you’re here check out a prank to die for

@thescrunkler

[seeingivy]

out of the woods

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

--

satoru gojo finds hope in the simplest things. 

because despite it all, if anyone was allowed to fall straight into despair – if anyone had the right to –  it would be him. 

but he simply can’t. 

only because every time he finds himself at the edge of the cliff, there’s always something pulling him back. 

a bratty six year old with spiky hair, his smiley older sister, or you – his beloved coworker that he, by the grace of god, charmed right into his hand. a bored salesman, an over-enthusiastic pink-haired high school student, and the ingredients to rice balls. 

he supposes that’s why the words don’t hit him. that every other time, there were two, four, or six hands pulling him back. but the depths of this won’t impact anyone the way it would impact him. that he’d fall on his own this time. 

there would be a pair of hands missing. 

all he can think about is that the chairs in the ward are rather uncomfortable, that all hospitals have the same, shitty fluorescent lights, and that megumi’s probably wondering why the two of you haven’t called him to check on him after his mission yet. 

that you would have made some shitty joke about sitting in his lap instead of sitting in the chairs, that you’d complain the lighting in the room was too dingy to take any good pictures, and that you’d call megumi the second you knew he was home. 

“so when will she remember?” gojo asks. 

shoko looks at him, steely eyes staring back into his, and it’s enough to push him over the edge. he can tell there won’t be any pulling this time. 

“we have no idea of knowing when she’ll be out of the woods. it could be three days for all we know.” shoko states. 

“or three years.” gojo states. 

shoko swallows hard. 

“or three years.” shoko affirms. 

satoru realizes there’s three stages to it, two weeks after the fact. 

first, the slow walk to the edge of the cliff, with everything looming below him – the mere fact that he could sense that something went wrong when kugisaki returned from her mission alone. 

second, the pause right at the edge, where the rocks begin to crumble under his feet. there’s a wide expanse in front of him, ice cold water that he could plunge into at any second, and he can slightly feel himself leaning forward – someone telling him straightforwardly, shoko’s warm hands on his shoulders when he explained. 

and lastly, the plunge. it’s cold air obliterating his ears as he falls, the crush so hard that he can barely stand when it happens. and he makes no efforts to stand back up once he’s fallen, because for all he knows, his limbs are broken – when he has to sleep in his bed without you for the first time. 

satoru gojo finds hope in the simplest things, until he doesn’t. because the woman he’s spent four years loving doesn’t even remember who he is. 

--

the first thing you remember is icy blue eyes. in some object permanence, child-like type of way, it’s the only thing that makes you feel safe now. 

that and the fact that he’s always here. 

“okay, y/n. can you tell us what you remember?” 

shoko is standing across from you – gloved hands on her clipboard as she holds her pen firmly in her hand. 

“my name is y/n l/n. i’m a jujutsu sorcerer and a teacher at jujutsu tech. i lost my memory three months ago on a mission with one of my students when i got struck by a curse.” 

you try not to visibly wince. or make long pauses. only because it makes shoko and satoru’s faces droop a little more when you do. recalling the memories gets easier, more repetitive as time goes on, but it still feels like a warm sting rod is hitting the raw parts of your brain at times. 

“do you remember the student’s name?” shoko asks. 

“kugisaki.” 

“okay, that’s good. do you know who we are?” she asks. 

the instruction is helpful. the questions feel like a soft guidance – like each of your memories has been placed in a room that you need to unlock and that she’s presenting you right at the doorstep of the room. 

“you’re shoko. my doctor. but we were friends before in school.” you add. 

“that’s right. what about him?” 

you look over at satoru, at the way he’s stiffly sitting in the chair next to you. 

every time you look at him, the smiles are always genuine. soft and sweet – always accompanied with a gentle nod to encourage you. but you can tell from his posture, from the darkness under his eyes, that it must bother him all greatly. 

though, he has every right to be upset, to be tired. 

“that’s satoru. he was here when i woke up. and he’s my husband.” 

shoko scratches on the clipboard before she gives you a smile. 

“that’s good. anything else?” 

you frown. 

“no. no, i don’t think so.” you murmur. 

she gives you a nod, as she sets the clipboard down. and when she starts rummaging through her drawers, you feel your heart sink at what comes next. 

“wait. wait, can we not do that today?” 

shoko looks back at you, quickly flickering her gaze to satoru, before she meets your eyes again. 

“it’s really best if we try little by little, everyday. i need to be careful when we use reverse cursed technique on something so malleable as a brain and memories, so it needs to be in small amounts. but consistent. we can’t skip and lose precious time.” 

you look over at satoru, reaching for his wrist. his skin is searing and warm under your fingertips, and you squeeze hard over his pulse point. 

please. 

satoru gives you a nod, before sighing, and looking back up at shoko. 

“can i talk to her alone?” he asks. 

shoko gives him a curt nod, before shuffling out of the room and sliding the door closed. you look back at satoru, as he gestures for you to talk. 

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position with your friend….i mean, our friend.” you clarify. 

“s’okay, bug. what’s wrong?” he murmurs. 

satoru watches as you squint your eyes, an elongated pause in your response. 

one of shoko’s directions to him was to try to sprinkle normalcy in as much as he could – nicknames, memories, common phrases –  in hopes that something would trigger in your memory and help you remember. 

he’s supplied you with each story when you don’t remember and he can tell that you’re trying to commit them all the memory again. to retrieve the memories that he’s told you. 

“bug.” you state. 

“that’s right.” 

“because…” 

“we were on a mission and-” satoru adds. 

“and the curse was a bug.” you finish. 

satoru smiles brightly. it almost feels like praise, when he looks at you so warmly. when you can remember something. 

“big insect type thing.” satoru confirms. 

“and i hate bugs. so you started calling me bug because…” 

you frown. 

“i forgot why you did that.” you state. 

satoru scoffs. 

“it’s called flirting, princess. though, that was never your forté.” 

you smile. 

“you have horrible game.” you respond. 

you can tell that the tiny gripes make satoru really happy. you recall shoko telling you a story about how it related to something from before, but you can’t really recall exactly what it was. regardless, the smile you always get feels good. 

“oh yeah?” he asks. 

“mhm. you think calling the girl you like a bug is flirting?” you state. 

“girl i love. and you can’t even accost me for it, because it worked. we’re married, idiot.” 

the blunt admission makes your chest hurt. only because you can tell that he means it earnestly. 

and that it must be painstakingly true – that satoru gojo loves you – because he’s still sitting here three months later, when you can barely remember his name at times. or the fact that you clearly must have been in a very loving relationship with him if he’s still sitting here with you when he could, and maybe should have, run. 

you squeeze hard on his pulse point again, your hands still curled around his wrist. he uncurls his hand from your hold before locking his fingers in with yours and squeezing your hand back. 

“you’re like a space heater, satoru.” you state. 

“it’s part of my charm. when we still slept in the same bed, you’d always put your ice cold feet on my legs and try to steal my warmth.” he states. 

“and you’d let me?” you ask. 

he smiles. 

“and i’d let you.” he affirms. 

you swallow hard. 

“sorry. i’ll do the treatment thing. i just hate how it makes me feel after. s’kind of like…my brain got fried? and sometimes it jumbles things up more so i feel like i’ve barely made any progress. and….and i want to remember you all really badly i just-” 

you feel the warmth on your cheek this time, his nimble fingers transferring warmth to your face this time. 

“we know. just take your time, okay? we’re not going anywhere.” 

--

six months after the fact, satoru throws you a birthday party. 

it’s hard not to hold onto him like a tether when you go out in big crowds – the overstimulation  nauseating at times. and it makes your chest swell that he firstly, realizes it, and second, refuses to leave your side because of it. you lock your fingers in with his as he lightly guides you through each of the people in the room. 

“y/n sensei!” 

you swallow hard as four people present themselves to you, a harsh squeeze on satoru’s fingers. he obliges quickly, a hand on your back as you shake your head. pink hair, brown eyes. 

“you’re choso?” you ask. 

you watch his face fall quickly, before he shakes it off. 

“no, no. this is choso. but you were close, he’s my brother! we talked about him last time i saw you.” he responds, gesturing to the boy at his left. 

“right. i’m sorry. it’s todo.” you state. 

“no, no. he’s todo.” the boy responds again, this time gesturing to the boy at his right. 

you feel another hand loop around you – cold hands on your shoulders – that you welcome. that you easily recognize as one of the other constants, besides satoru. 

“ignore yuuji. and i promise, it’s just as confusing when you can remember it too.” megumi states. 

you smile. 

“are you flattering me, megumi?” you ask. 

satoru reaches forward, and much to megumi’s dismay, flicks his forehead. 

“you’re such a mama’s boy.” 

“oh, leave him alone, satoru.” you state. 

the group of them smile, even the ends of megumi’s mouth upturning, as satoru feigns shock by clutching his hands to his chest. you give them all a smile as they break up into their own conversation. 

satoru gestures for you to follow him into the kitchen and you give the group of them a smile as you walk away. you push yourself onto the counter as satoru reaches for the birthday hat and a tiny little book before he makes residence in between your legs. 

“okay, you ready, bug?” he asks. 

“for?” 

“you love to take pictures. lots of them. you’re kind of the sentimental type. so…” 

satoru hands you the book as you start to flip through all the pages. each one has four little polaroids in it – of you and him, megumi sprinkled in here, with little captions on each of them. 

new year’s 2021 

megumi’s sweet sixteen 

shotgun wedding :D 

“shotgun wedding?” you ask. 

“we had a quickie court wedding before we actually got married because we couldn’t wait. anyways! we have to-” 

“wait.” you state. 

satoru stops, bright blue eyes staring into yours expectantly. you can tell that he’s trying to brush it off quickly from the way he’s jittery as he shakes the camera in his hands. 

“i know you don’t like to remember memories like this one because they make you sad but-” 

“they don’t make me sad.” satoru states. 

“don’t- don’t lie. i can hear you crying sometimes in the other room after we talk. and i feel bad but, but maybe it’ll click or something?” you ask. 

satoru sighs, before giving you a nod. and he recounts one of the best days of his life, in as much detail as he can. 

“what if we got married tomorrow?” you ask. 

satoru looks over at you, your glasses still perched on your nose as you work through the crossword puzzle in the newspaper. satoru always thought that it was a little bit corny that you did it right before you went to bed, like a little elderly lady, but knew better than to poke fun at your “enrichment time in your enclosure” as you so poignantly termed it. 

“huh?” he asks. 

“like. went to court. got married.” you shrug. 

satoru reaches for the newspaper, before quickly shoving it straight to the side – not short of any protests from you – as he crawls straight into your lap, nose only a few inches away from yours. 

“i was still doing that, idiot.” you state, cupping his face in your hands as you squeeze hard. 

“you want to marry me?” he asks, voice laced with excitement. 

you scoff. 

“are you dumb? we’re engaged, satoru.” 

“but you want to marry me. tomorrow?” he asks. 

satoru watches as you pause, eyes so full of love that it makes his chest hurt. 

“dunno. was just thinking about it.” 

“and?” 

“stop trying to get me to say something cute.” you state. 

“so you admit it. there’s something cute to say?” 

you smile, before pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“no.” you state. 

“c’mon. we’ll do it tomorrow if you tell me. i’ll wear a nice suit, you can wear that silky white dress you have. have sushi with megs after, he can be our witness. pick up rings, get a bouquet on the way.” 

you smile brightly. 

“you’ll really do it?” you ask. 

“of course. s’nothing i wouldn’t do for you.” he whispers. 

you lean forward, pressing a warm kiss to his lips. 

“i just don’t like that you’re not my husband already. and i get the whole big wedding and clan members and blah blah blah but…i just want to be married to you now. i don’t really care how it happens, i just want that day to be here already.”  

satoru smiles, before leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek. 

“it’s settled then. we’re getting married tomorrow, bug.” he responds, before pushing off of you and shuffling under the sheets. 

you smile hard, following suit by placing your glasses on the nightstand and curling up into his arms. 

“s’bad luck to sleep in the same bed? because that means i’ll see you tomorrow morning?” you ask. 

“maybe. but who's going to keep your feet warm if i don’t sleep next to you?” 

“very good point, satoru gojo.” 

you look back down at the picture, pressing your fingers against the polaroid wrapped in the plastic. the two of you stayed true to your word – a plain but white dress and a simple suit – with your arms wrapped around his neck as you both cheese into the camera. 

you note that glittering necklace around satoru’s neck, as you press your fingers to the chain around yours. you had the necklace when you woke up, the only other jewelry you had besides the golden little band around your ring finger – which you assumed was the wedding ring satoru gave you when you got married. 

“you have one of these too?” you ask. 

satoru smiles, before reaching into his shirt and pulling out the necklace. and surely but not, he has the same necklace as you with the little paper airplane charm hanging at the end. 

“we couldn’t find rings on the way to the courthouse. so you picked these shitty airplane necklaces from one of the stands on the way there.” he states. 

you smile, as you look down at the picture. 

“and we ate with megumi after?” 

“uh huh. he got really mad at us after. you kind of whined that you didn’t get a first dance so i decided to move all the furniture around to make room and kind of broke his science fair project.” 

“oh my god. no wonder that kid hates you.” 

“shut up. we stayed up fixing it. and he doesn’t hate me. he actually danced with us a little bit too – though it was definitely against his will.” satoru adds. 

“you tease him too much. leave the poor baby alone.” you state. 

satoru’s eyes go wide as he places his hands on your shoulder, the look on his face so excited as he smiles. 

“y/n?”

you raise your eyebrows. 

“yeah?” 

his face falls just as fast. 

“oh. nothing.” 

you frown. 

“what happened?” 

“nothing. it’s stupid, i just-” 

“it’s not stupid! what is it?” you ask. 

he looks at you, before pulling back a little. 

“i thought you remembered for a second. that’s always the line you use when i tease him – leave the poor baby alone.” 

you frown. 

“sorry.” you whisper. 

he shrugs. 

“s’okay. it’s kind of nice if you think about it.” he states. 

“how?” 

“well. it’s obvious that big parts of us are shaped by the people that are around us. your best friends, your co-workers, your partners.” 

you reach for his hand. 

“you wonder how much of it is the stuff you experienced that makes you act the way that you do and how much of it is actually you, you know?” he states. 

“exactly! sorry, i didn’t mean to interrupt, but-but i think about that all the time. like if i can’t remember, will i still be the same person i was before? the person you all loved? or if this is going to change me so drastically that i’ll be someone new.”

satoru smiles. 

“the former.” 

“huh?” 

“you’ll be the same person you were before. cheesy as hell, but the cuteness will make up for it.” 

you roll your eyes. 

“how are you so sure?” 

he pauses, before placing his hand in your palm. 

“one of my favorite things about you is that you were, or are, really compassionate. we always joked that megumi was our kid, but really. you were like his mom – understood him in ways i didn’t, always knew what he was thinking and how to fix it too.” he states. 

“yeah?” 

“and one of the things megumi hates most is when i tease him in front of yuuji. s’got a big crush on him.” he states. 

you look over at the two of them, at megumi and yuuji laughing at choso three feet away and try your best to recall every memory of the two of them together. if megumi always smiled so brightly when he was around him.  

“you got real mad at me. told me to leave your poor baby alone. you’ve always cared for him in that way and i can tell that you still do. you might not remember him, but he’s still your baby. you might not remember who you are but you’re still you.” 

it’s silent. 

“you’ll be the same. you’re still going to be the girl i loved and you’re still going to be my wife.” he whispers, warm tears in his eyes. 

his voice wavers on the latter part of the statement. 

almost like he doesn’t believe it. 

you place your hands on his shoulders and squeeze hard. 

“satoru.” you whisper. 

he shakes his head. 

“sorry. i didn’t mean to say it like that, i just-” he states. 

you place your hands on his cheeks and squeeze hard. 

“from the type of guy you are, i can tell that i probably fell in love with you all over again hundred times in one day.” 

satoru smiles, a tear spilling as you quickly wipe the wetness on his cheek. 

“this isn’t any different. i’m not sure about a lot of things, but-but this i am. your eyes are the first thing i remember from when i woke up. i’m almost positive they’ll be the last thing i remember when we’re old wrinkly people too.” you murmur. 

satoru wraps his arms around you, tucking your face into his neck, as he squeezes you hard into his frame. you can feel his heart racing underneath you, his pulse point rapid as he slowly breathes in. and surely, it comes to a standstill. 

“what did i say? told you that you’d still be cheesy as hell.” satoru states. 

you scoff. 

“does the cuteness make up for it?” you ask. 

“a hundred percent.” satoru responds, before pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

satoru takes the picture, after snagging one of the little party hats and securing it on top of your hair, and quickly scribbling on the developed polaroid before tucking it into the book. satoru runs off to the little cake, quickly lighting all the candles as you take the quick second to look down at the picture. 

a very forgetful bug turns twenty-six <;3 

--

“hey, i’m home!” 

satoru shuffles back into the apartment, arms aching and sore from his mission, as he rummages through the kitchen. the fridge is empty leave for a few condiments and he makes a mental note to order takeout. 

“did you want to order something?” he calls out, halfheartedly registering you walking towards him as he shuts the fridge door. 

he’s taken aback when he feels your arms wrap around him from behind, your arms nearly squeezing the breath out of him. 

“ow, bug. you’re hugging too hard.” 

he turns around only to find tearfilled eyes staring back at him, immediately dropping his phone in his hand to cup your cheeks. 

“woah, hey. you okay?” he asks. 

you shake your head, bringing your eyes to your sockets to rub the wetness away. you can barely say the words, the pounding in your head and racing in your chest not coming to the standstill. 

“what’s wrong?” he asks. 

“do-do you remember the first time you cried in front of me?” you ask. 

satoru pulls back, albeit a little bit confused, as he frowns. 

“um. let me try and think. maybe at our real wedding?” he asks. 

“no. no, that’s not right.” you whisper. 

“huh?” 

“you cried for the first time when megumi got hurt when he was out with nobara and yuuji. he didn’t call either of us afterwards and you were sad that maybe he didn’t need you anymore.” you state. 

satoru hums in response. 

“that’s right. i totally forgot. idiot got twenty stitches and didn’t think to tell either of us.” 

you deflate, putting your hands on his shoulders as you squeeze. 

“satoru.” 

“what?” 

“you forgot. but i remembered.” you whisper. 

satoru brings his hands to your sides, squeezing hard as you see his eyes - icy blue - filled with warm tears. 

“y/n. are-are you serious?” he whispers. 

“yeah. s’all kind of fuzzy and i have a really bad headache but i remember you and-” 

you can barely finish your sentence because satoru’s hands – now cupped around your neck – have pulled his face flesh with yours and he’s pressing his lips to yours. it’s enough to shock you to your core, nearly stumbling in his arms, as you feel his tears start to fall onto your face. 

“you’re back. you-you remember me.” he whispers. 

“yeah. yeah, i am. i do.” you whisper, nearly hiccuping from the lack of air reaching your lungs from the tears. 

you rest your forehead against his, the two of you heaving in tandem as satoru runs his hands all over you – on your cheeks, your biceps, the length of your back. 

“i know that it was still you before. and-and i still loved you the same, of course i did – you’re my wife. but you don’t know how fucking happy i am that you’re-” 

“you’re insane, satoru. i can’t believe you…you stayed. and you-” 

“you’re mine. of course i stayed.” 

“i know, but…i didn’t even remember you. and now that i look back on it, sweetheart. you must have been so upset and alone, you…you barely even smiled. or made any shitty jokes. i’m sorry i didn’t notice.” 

“you didn’t have anything to go off of. s’okay.” 

you wrap your arms around his neck, his face tucked into yours as you run your hands in his hair and softly murmur into his ear. you’re not sure when the crying starts, when he starts trembling under you, but you have every intent to keep him in your arms as long as he needs to. 

“satoru, you did so good.” 

“yeah?” 

“so good, sweetheart.” you murmur.

satoru frowns.

“i tried really hard to keep it together for you. i-i didn’t want to make you feel bad or that-” 

“you did keep it together for me. but you can let go now, i’m here to catch you.” 

it’s enough to leave him sobbing in your arms, your quiet whispering in his ears not reaching him. he’s positive that he’s made you say it a hundred times at this point – that you love him – and he’s more than thankful that you’re willing to oblige. 

satoru realizes there’s three stages to it, two weeks after the fact. 

first, it’s the hand being extended to him. it was so quiet that he barely realized it at first – the fact that you were trying to pull him back, the first second that you remembered. warm hands squeezing his frame, the same way they always had. 

second, the realization. the water he was drowning in was so cold that he could barely remember the extent of the warmth and when it returned, it was so sweltering that he could barely remember that he was freezing a few seconds ago. sweet honey eyes – being so full of love that he can see it pouring out of your eyes when you look at him. 

and lastly, being pulled up. it’s warm air tickling his skin this time – the smell of your perfume, cold feet on top of his when he goes to bed, a kiss on the forehead, two little airplane necklaces, matching golden wedding bands. 

satoru gojo finds hope in the simplest of things. in the mere fact that you were looking at him. 

--

an: our very first 1989 song!!! I thought ironically that it would be very funny if I did an amnesia au to out of the woods. and then I accidentally wrote all of it.

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