#year of hell is on for the millionth time and I’m here for it

[thresholdbb]

Year of Hell

It’s only 257 days of hell

Almost 37 weeks of hell

8 1/2 months of hell

3 seasons of hell

[vhstown]

time out (part 1)

[boxer au] — 42!miles g morales x gn!reader

summary: Miles Morales makes boxing history. Your boyfriend isn't there to celebrate.

warnings: angst-ish, description of (boxing) injuries, self-destructive behaviours, briefly implied death, pov switch (yay), gtranslate spanish

word count: 3.9k

a/n: ive never written 42 miles before but he's a cool lil guy split into two parts cuz it was too long 😭 semi-edited (for the millionth time)

PART 2 → / THE AU

"Just six rounds in, Miles Morales knocks out the Vulture!"

Screams and cheers exploded from your phone as you laid in bed, watching the recap of your boyfriend's boxing match. Your eyes were straining from how close you were holding the screen to your face; this was probably the third time you’d watched Miles’ win. After training to hell and back, he’d made it to the national league with you and Aaron to support him. He did more than just “make it”, in fact. His “revolutionary” victory was plastered all over social media and the news. Everywhere you looked was: “17-YEAR-OLD NYC BOXER OVERTAKES LIGHTWEIGHT CHAMPION ‘VULTURE’ IN US NATIONALS”. Miles Morales — your boyfriend — had made boxing history.

The giddy grin on your face only grew wider as he came up again on screen, sporting the stoic expression he'd perfected over the last few months behind the overly-done editing and animations of the recap. As much as you'd wanted to go out and see him live (though begging your family to let you go to Vegas wasn’t exactly feasible), he'd made it clear he didn't want you, or anyone for that matter, in that arena. It was something about having "total focus" — and it must've worked, you thought, as you watched him give his post-fight interview.

“I jus’ hope you watchin’, cause I’m here. Miles Morales made it!”

Despite his boyish, adrenaline-fuelled shout at the mic, the quiet laugh you let out was one of pride rather than embarrassment. He had every right to celebrate, and you were watching, even if it wasn’t live. Everything he'd done up until this point was well worth it: the constant training, sparring, the late nights and early mornings — maybe even the countless unanswered texts and missed calls too. Miles had worked himself to the bone, and while it might've worried you at the time, it was nothing compared to the satisfaction you felt while watching him on screen. He knew what he was doing; Miles was semi-professional at this point. You had to let him do his own thing, even if that meant letting him go for a while.

Right now, though, Miles was home from Vegas. Tapping out of the video, you scrambled to your messages. The last ones were from you, sent weeks ago, a "good luck" and "i love you" read and without a response. Your fingers kept missing the keys, and you frowned at yourself until you finally were able to hit send.

CONGRATS BABY!!! Not delivered

IM SO PROUD OF YOU Not delivered

You tried resending them, only to be met with the same red message.

why arent my texts sending Not delivered

miles??? Not delivered

Not delivered? It'd almost been three days since the tournament; Miles always had his phone on.

"To leave a message, please press one—" The call went to voicemail for the third time. Your stomach swirled with something like uncertainty. It didn't even ring at all. Miles made it a habit to always be available, so why...?

Boxers needed time to recover, he was probably just tired and turned his phone off. Or he could be busy with an interview; Miles Morales was sort of a celebrity right now — who wouldn't want to talk to the 17-year-old boxing prodigy? You knew you wanted to, prodigy or not.

It was probably because you hadn’t seen Miles in so long, but possibilities kept forming in your head, disappearing just as fast. What if he blocked you? Or he could’ve changed his number. Were you over? No. Nope. No way. Not like this.

There was one other reason that made some sort of sense, but you decided to think against it. Miles had made it to the semi-finals in entire the National League. It was over; he'd gotten what he wanted. He was supposed to be resting right now.

Miles wasn't that stupid, right...?

You pulled up Rio's contact. It was better to be safe than sorry.

Riiiiiiing, riiiiiiing…

Better for him to be safe than sorry — or stupid.

"Hello?"

"Hola, tía, uh, could I speak to Miles?" You felt just a little crazy as you held the phone to your ear, but there was no harm in calling his mom.

"Ah, he's not home right now — said he was going out with his tío."

"Oh… Do you know where they went?"

"I'm not sure. Something important. About a... contract?"

"Contract…?" you muttered to yourself. “Okay… thank you.” It wasn't like you knew anything about a contract, though it wasn't like Miles would tell you anyway. At least he was safe, and with Aaron. It was probably important, official — something that didn't involve you. Not a lot of things in Miles’ life involved you, it seemed.

"How have you been?” Rio's voice interrupted your thoughts. You had called her out of nowhere, and after a while. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Oh, um..." The last time you'd talked to Rio was… right before Miles had left for Vegas. Well, you hadn't exactly talked. All you remember is just comforting her in silence. "Yeah, tía. Have you?"

"I have, but I've just been all over the place recently. So many reporters…" Rio's voice lifted up slightly in exasperation. You could only imagine what it was like for her. Your feelings suddenly felt a lot less significant, and you were back to your comforting mode all over again.

"I see. Must be exhausting." You attempted a polite laugh, which came out more like a sigh. If only you could be as patient as Rio…

"I'm so proud, though." Her voice warmed with a smile. If your chest ached with melancholy or empathy, you didn't know. "I didn't want him to leave home so soon. I still think this whole… professional thing is a bit too much, but… I want to trust him also."

"I'm sure he'll be fine, tía. If he's in the nationals already, he's probably getting a lot of support." It was more like you were trying to convince yourself. "I'm sure he has great coaches... and he's got me and Aar— uh, his uncle, too."

"I know…" For a moment, you weren't sure if either of you had anymore to say.

"…If not, I'll have to go there myself and give them a piece of my mind, eh?" she continued. You weren’t sure if it was a joke, but a smile formed on your lips anyway.

"Yeah…" A quiet laugh leaving your mouth at the image of Rio cussing out Miles' poor manager, in two languages no less. No wonder he was such a good boxer — Rio must have passed down her fighting spirit. "Maybe you'd even get signed,” you joked, the image of that even more amusing (and a scary possibility.)

Rio let out her own laugh, and your smile only grew; talking to her always made you feel better. "Me? Boxing? Nunca (Never.) — I'll work in that hospital until the end of me."

There was another stretch of silence. You thinned out a sigh, trying not to let the smile leave your face, even if she wasn’t there to see it.

"Come over for dinner tomorrow. I'll tell Miles to come and get you."

"Sure, tía, I'd love to." He probably just needed a break. Not from you specifically, but in general.

"You know tú y Miles sois mi vida, ¿bien?" (you and Miles are my life, right?) It wasn’t often Rio said that, but you always remembered every time she did, and how it made you feel — like you were family. Rio was pretty much a second mother to you. It made you wonder what Miles' father would've been like.

"Well, it's getting late, and I have a lot of laundry to fold." Rio's tone had a fake sort of enthusiasm — tiredness? You couldn’t really tell with her; the woman was always upbeat. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will." It was late, you realised, and the sky outside your window was a lot darker than it had been before. "You too, tía."

“Descansa, ¿sí?” (Get some rest, yes?)

“Sí, tía.”

The call ended, and you were left facing your messages, a bittersweet feeling hugging you from behind. Right now, Miles was out with Aaron, about some contract, probably to do with boxing…

But why weren't your texts going through?

miles are you ok? Not delivered

im really proud of you Not delivered

i wish i couldve seen you live Not delivered

It wasn’t like there was much point, but…

i love you Not delivered

Maybe it was just out of habit; maybe you just missed him. Your reflection frowned at you behind the messages, thumb hovering over the power button to shut your phone off, until your phone pinged with a notification — Aaron was texting you.

Hey man

Out of town

LMK if miles breaks in

You sat up immediately, fingers floating uselessly above the keys for a moment.

sure Read at 11:24PM

are you out of town already? Read at 11:25PM

Ping!

Yeah

@ Queens

Miles was with Aaron about some “contract”... and Aaron was in Queens?

You knew Miles hadn't blocked you, or turned his phone off — he had no signal. And there was only one place in Brooklyn you could think of that had no reception, and that MIles had any reason to be in. It was also the one place you didn't want him to go to: that damn warehouse.

The place he’d spent training all those weeks — what reason did he have to be there right after finishing the tournament? Putting on your jacket, blinking back the sleepiness and collecting the fleeting remains of patience you had left, you could only hope that Miles had even a shred of common sense with him.

THWACK! THWACK! THWA— Crack!

"Mierda..." (Shit...) Miles hissed, drawing his glove away from the punching bag. His hand was paralysed for a moment, a deep, gnawing pang running through his fingers down to the rest of his arm. The tight gloves only suffocated him more, doing nothing to ease the pain as he gritted his teeth and waited for it to dull down.

Why was he even here? It was over — that Norman bastard had blown him off hours ago. It felt like a couple minutes, the words still fresh in his mind. Searing pain shot through his hand when he tried to flex his fingers, the rest of his muscles starting to ache too. This was going to hurt after the adrenaline wore off. Damn it, Morales.

The walls flashed white all of a sudden, a faint rumble of thunder interrupting the pounding of his heartbeat as he tried to straighten himself out. It was quiet, except for the sounds of the incoming storm. The playlist he was listening to had finished ages ago — your playlist. If he didn’t want to think about you, he wasn’t doing a good job of it.

Rain blasted quietly against the windows, and Miles’ eyes stung with dryness as he squeezed them shut. There was no way he'd be able to go back now, not to you, definitely not to his mom. She'd probably go on and on about how he should've taken his jacket, how he ruined his hair in the rain again, maybe how he wasted his damn time being a boxer...

It was probably fair; his mom had enough on her plate trying to support them both — especially him right now. She’d done everything in her power to make sure he got to Vegas, and he’d just left her alone again right after. But how was he meant to face her now? He was supposed to make her proud, make his dad proud, but it wasn’t like he had any pride left after he’d lost his contract. The Green Goblin had probably set the record for fastest knockout when Miles lost to him. Of course just the semi-finals weren’t enough; Norman Osborn was the big shot of boxing, and if Miles lost to some rookie in just about 15 seconds, then maybe he wasn’t worth the investment.

It didn’t make sense — nothing about The Green Goblin (or “Harry”, whatever they liked to gossip about) made sense. He’d just debuted, but didn’t even look like a boxer; he didn’t stand right, his style was inconsistent, his head movement was all over the place, but his punch had almost knocked Miles’ brain straight out of his skull. It was almost superhuman. Even with no openings, the freak of nature had forced his way through like an animal. And he was scrawny, not nearly as built as Miles at least, like he should’ve been in the weight class down. Either way, the asshole was being celebrated, and Miles was out of a contract.

And Miles had just stood there, while Norman berated him and tore Miles’ dream apart right in front of his very eyes. Maybe he’d hoped too much as an “amateur” boxer. That’s all he was, apparently — no matter how hard he worked, or what he achieved, or what he promised.

“Why should I keep you? The Vulture was destined to lose at his age.”

“Even rigged matches wouldn’t get you anywhere.”

“I mean, you’re as good at fighting as one of those street kids.”

“That’s all you were before I decided to give you a chance, no?”

The image of the Norman’s uncanny, sneering face sent his good fist reeling towards the punching bag. Should’ve pummelled his pelirojo (redhead) ass to the ground—

"Miles!"

The glove crumpled mid-air against the bag, arm going rigid. It was silent as he let out a breath through his teeth — he wasn’t hearing things, was he?

The rush was starting wearing off, his mind starting to cloud and pain faintly radiating again from his other hand. His good fist tightened inside the glove, pushed against the bag which was still and awkwardly tilted.

You’re losing focus, just punch the damn thing—

"Miles, what the hell are you doing here?"

The noise of the door shutting made him turn around, floor squeaking under his stumbling feet. It was you by the door, breathing just as heavily as him and dripping head to toe with rain, in a jacket that was way too thin for any sort of weather.

Dios... (God...) He knew he couldn’t be hallucinating that disapproving look on your face.

Rain was pattering gently against the glass as he pulled his arm away away from the bag, letting it swing in front of him before his eyes met yours.

"It's midnight, what are you..." A sharp intake of breath interrupted your words — a shiver.

"What’re you doin’ here...?" Miles asked instead through a grimace. His voice came out wrong — hoarse. Cold sweat was clinging to his skin, and his throat was dry and tightening. A mess — that’s what you were talking to right now, barely your boyfriend. All he could do was stare as the rush died down and his senses were coming back to him. The fog in his mind made it hard to speak, even harder to look at you.

"My texts and calls weren't going through— You weren't with Aaron or your mom, I just..." You sucked in another breath through your teeth; raindrops were glistening on your skin. He should’ve just stayed home, damn it. "Was just worried."

Well, he certainly looked worrying, even more so than you. Swallowing back his breathlessness wasn’t helping; it was like he’d ran a marathon with his fists. The pain from his knuckle was starting to bleed into the rest of his hand so much so that it might’ve been broken.

"'M good... You, though?" He let out a bit of a growl to clear his throat before deciding to cut straight to the chase: you’d come here in the middle of the night, in the rain, by yourself. As much as he was being an idiot right now, the amount of times he’d told you to not do any of those things, pleaded with you even, was making you look like the delirious one in his eyes. Miles was being stubborn, but he knew you were worse.

“You insane…?” he muttered, taking a step away from the bag. “Did Aaron tell you to come here or sumn’?"

"No, he was supposed to be with you," you shot back, eyes narrowing at him from under your hood before thunder bellowed from all around. The rain was growing into a loud static noise, and your voice was muffled as your expression grew more exasperated. "You came home 3 days ago and you didn't even text me. Yeah, I probably should've texted you, and I tried, but now you're here training alone again when your mom thinks you're with Aaron and—"

"You come here to scold me?" His jaw crunched a little as he tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Miles wasn’t trying to be mad at you — he was just mad in general. It just so happened to be in your direction right now.

“Huh? No, I came here because you scared the hell out of me — and Aaron told me to not let you break into his place.”

If it was supposed to be funny, the laugh he let out was anything but amused. At least Aaron wasn’t here for him to disappoint too, or get a weirdly-phrased life lesson from, or both. “Well I’m not breakin’ in, and I told you, I’m good, so I don’t get why you’re still here.”

You stepped a little closer, and Miles’ heels dug into the ground to keep himself from moving. “Isn’t it obvious? Or are you just being difficult on purpose?”

“Difficult?” he mirrored dryly, trying to push back the growing exhaustion clouding his head.

“Can you not just take a break for once? It’s over, Miles; you already won—”

“I didn’t win.” The walls echoed with his voice, words having escaped on their own. It wasn’t at you, but he didn’t know what he was mad at, resolve fading as he watched your face straighten with realisation.

“Don’t tell me that’s why you’re here…”

His fingers unconsciously clawed into the boxing glove, pain shoot through his hand. Nothing came out of his mouth, but his silence was loud — incriminating. That was the reason, right? That he didn't win?

“Kid didn’t stand a chance.” What was the point of you being here?

“A one-punch concussion — on a newbie, no less.” It was over, like you said.

“It’s a shame, I bet on him too.” Everyone had given up on him.

“You should be resting right now— you’re shaking, Miles.” So why wouldn't you?

“No ‘m not…” is all he could muster, flexing his shoulders uncomfortably. Your hand was on his arm before he could realise, and he was met with a stern look as he tried to keep his gaze from shaking too.

The velcro on his gloves crunched as you started undoing them, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop you. It’s not like he had the energy.

“You coulda’ got hurt on your way here.” The croak in his voice made him sound more hopeless than reprimanding as you slipped off the first glove, pausing half-way down his palm. His bare palm.

“…I could’ve got hurt?” Miles held back a sigh as he was made to look at his own hand. Bruised, blackened, branded with anger — it hurt more to look at it than anything. “You didn’t wear your wraps?”

The other glove slid off, revealing the fresh, festering swelling coming from his middle knuckle — the aftermath of that sickening cracking noise. You took his curled hand, easing up his middle finger and making him hiss under his breath.

“Think you can straighten it?” you muttered, gently trying to do it yourself only to lose his hand from your grip.

“’S gonna be fine,” he mumbled, eyes fixed to the side as his hand closed back up.

“It won’t if you can’t move it properly.”

“You a doctor now?”

“Nah, but your mom’s a nurse.” You carefully held his hand by palm, thumb tracing over the tender, split skin, his fingers wrapping around the side of your hand in futile protest. He’d have to bother his mom again — he didn’t even think about that. “You basically just punched yourself.”

Everything you were saying was right — it always was. He hated that fact.

“You a boxing expert too?” he thought to retort.

“Thought that was supposed to be you.” Miles’ eyes narrowed, and yours narrowed in response. “I don’t get it, baby...” you sighed, shaking your head a little as you put down the gloves to the side.

Baby. His breath almost hitched. You were dating, and it didn’t even seem like it anymore. Not after all those weeks apart. The word didn’t even feel endearing, it was condescending, like he didn’t deserve it. Maybe he was being a baby, and maybe he always had been. You were the one who always had to drag him out of this make-shift gym. Right now was no different, except…

“…Why are you still doing this?” he heard you mutter, still turned away with his hand in your grip. You didn’t even know the half of it.

“Why are you still here?” His hand tried to slip away again, but you only took it by the wrist instead, now facing him.

“Why won’t you answer my questions, Miles?” Your voice deadened into a whisper, only serving to frustrate him.

“I don’t know why you care so much.” He let out a quiet huff, staring at your hand when your grip ceased to relax.

“I care because you look like you’re about to pass out and I can’t let my boyfriend kill himself over something stupid—”

“I’m not killing myse—” A pained groan escaped his mouth as you ruthlessly pushed up his injured finger.

“Don’t push me, Miles.” Oh, you were serious.

“You’re pushin’ sumn’,” he strained through gritted teeth. “Mierda… quit it already.”

The pain tore on another moment, and he was just now realising how bad it actually hurt. All you were doing was staring at him, brows knitted together. “Cariño, please…” he whispered, a wince forming on his face.

Your hand loosened, and he let out a quiet, frustrated, somewhat relieved sigh.

Still a sucker for nice words... He didn’t say them as much as he would’ve liked.

“You need to take a time out,” you stated after a beat of silence. The expression on your face was serious again, killing any sense of tenderness you might’ve shown.

He freed his hand from your grip with the opportunity, before giving you a dubious look. “Like, for kids?”

“Like for boxers, dumbass.” Your gaze followed his retreating hand for a moment before falling back on his eyes. “But if you want me to treat you like a kid…”

“I’m good.” Another roar of thunder rang out before he could add anything, and the rain was so heavy that anything you could see from the windows became a blur.

“…You got your jacket?” you suggested, without much hope.

The idea only made Miles’ eyes squeeze shut again. A shallow exhale left him, and he tried not to let his fatigue cloud his judgement. If he kept talking stupid to you, he’d probably have worse to worry about than a broken knuckle. “You think imma go outside?”

All you could do was sigh. It seemed like the two of you would be in “time out” for a while.

🕸️🔭👾

thank you for reading part 2 soon but then again its not my fav fic in the world 💔 i rewrote this like 8 trillion times and it still wasn't clicking for me 😭 idk i just got sick of editing it again and again

this isn't as short as my usual fics because i felt like i needed to add context... I've never written an au or anything remotely original so this is just yeah... im tryna figure it out! i have . too much lore for this au

reblogs appreciated lmk if you did like it (i hope this is someone's cup of tea lmao)

catch my atsv masterlist here !

[deltaharrington]

MR. CEO [18+]

DREW STARKEY X FEMALE! READER

SUMMARY: Drew Starkey, the owner of Starkey Co. finds you, a clumsy intern, intriguing.

WARNINGS: 18+ THEMES!, fingering, older (7 years) guy x younger (19) girl.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this!!

“I’m so sorry!” Drew heard for what felt like the millionth time that day. It was that clumsy intern again. She had either run into someone or done something wrong.

Drew couldn’t understand why she hadn’t learned how to do her job properly yet. It wasn’t that hard. Unless someone was making it that way.

“Ms. L/n, my office” Drew said after opening the door to his office.

At the sound of his voice, he could see you tense up in fear. He wasn’t that scary. Was he?

“It’s nothing bad” He added and you seemed to relax after that, making him smile a bit to himself.

Upon walking into his office, you could smell Drew’s strong cologne. You didn’t mind it, but you couldn’t overlook it as he was practically dripping in the attractive smell.

His office was large, one way glass surrounding it. He could see out, but no one could see in. It was a smart idea. His desk was placed behind a small lounging areas with two couches and a coffee table. A small kitchen was too the left that had a sink and the utilities to make hot drinks.

You sat down in the chair in front of his desk, your knee bouncing as you waited for him to speak. Drew took in your outfit as he watched your nervous nature. ‘Fucking classic’ He thought to himself.

You were wearing a white blouse, the top few buttons being opened, allowing a small glimpse at your cleavage. A tight black pencil skirt accompanied it, the material riding upwards on your thighs as you sat down.

You looked like you came straight out of a porno.

“If this is about my behavior today, I’m sorry” You said quickly and Drew was stunned “I had a rough morning and I feel like my day has been getting worse” You added and he watched you try to cover your tracks desperately.

“Have you been trained?” He asked and you looked confused. “Has your manager trained you any?”

You gulped at the mention of your manager. He had been trying to get into your pants the moment you started there. When you refused him, he decided to make your job hell. You were afraid to tell Drew that.

“Mr. Starkey, I’ve been trained properly” You said. Lie. “I’ve just had a bad day, I promise it won’t happen again” You said and avoided his eyes. You were afraid he’d be able to sniff out your lie.

Drew paused, standing from his desk. He made his way to you. “Don’t lie to me” He said lowly and you jumped in fear.

“I…” You started but he tilted his head. His hand reached up to cup your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Tell me the truth” He said. God damn he was hot. He wore a white button up with a black coat on top and black slacks to match. A small chain hung from his neck as he moved to grip each side of the chair you sat in, blocking you in.

And so, you told him everything. To say he was pissed was an understatement. He was livid. Drew couldn’t believe one of his employees tried to sexually touch an intern. Drew thought you were very attractive yes, and rightfully so. He was closer to your age than a nasty old manager in his sixties.

“You’re 19, yes?” He asked through gritted teeth. You thought he was angry with you.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I can change my clothes or-“ You started but he cut you off.

“This is NOT your fault, okay? If he tried to touch you and you said no, he shouldn’t take that out on you at work of all places” He said. “Stay here” He ordered and moved to leave his office.

When Drew came back, he brought with him your manager. You tensed up.

“Now, tell me why…” Drew started and chewed out your manager, firing the man on the spot. You were shocked. He stormed out soon after his termination and you looked like you had just seen a ghost.

“Mr. Starkey..” You started.

“Drew, call me Drew” He said and you nodded.

“You didn’t have to do that, I can fight my own battles” You said to him.

“Clearly not” He added and sighed max shaking his head. “You’ve been promoted” He said and you r eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“I need a new assistant, my last one quit on me” He said “Are you up for it?”

Two weeks into your assistant job things were going great. Drew had shown you the ropes and you felt like you belonged.

This day in particular, Drew seemed out of it, he seemed angry and you couldn’t figure out why.

“Mr. Starkey? Is there anything else you need?” You asked and he waved you off. “You look like you could use a break?” You added and he lifted his head.

“I have to get this done, I can’t take a break” He said and you nodded.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Starkey”

“Drew, honey, call me Drew, remember?” He added and you nodded, your cheeks flushing at the nickname.

The truth was, Drew had been frustrated because of you. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You wore a short black skirt and a light pink top today. He could practically see through your shirt and it was driving him crazy.

He wanted nothing more than to bend you over his desk and fuck you like there was no tomorrow.

He knew he couldn’t do that, he wouldn’t.

The truth was, you had done this on purpose. You saw the way Drew looked at you. A hot older guy giving you attention was what you wanted. He was only 28, which wasn’t too much older than you, but his maturity was so goddamn sexy.

You just wanted to crawl under his desk and show him that you could do more than just assist him with work related things.

“Drew” You repeated back to him and he couldn’t take it anymore.

“I know what you’re doing” He said and you smiled, glad he caught on.

“Oh? You do?” You said and batted your eyelashes toward him. You wanted to seem innocent.

He was about to say something else when his phone rang, ruining the moment. He rolled his eyes as he answered.

“Yeah, we’ll be there” He said before he hung up. “We have a meeting to go to, come” He said and stood up, making his way towards the office door.

The elevator ride was tense. You were practically dripping just thinking about him.

At the same time, you and Drew looked at each other and went for it.

Connecting your lips together in a heated kiss, Drew pushed you up against the elevator wall, his hands trailing to your waist.

You moaned into his mouth, a smirk coming from him soon after.

Drew wasn’t just going to kiss you of course. He hiked your skirt up and waisted no time slipping his hand into your panties. You guys had many floors to go, so he had time.

Two of his fingers slid into you as his thumb abused your clit, small moans and whimpers falling from your lips and into his as your lips were still pressed firmly together.

Your hands gripped his white shirt, throwing your head back in pure pleasure as you disconnected your lips from Drew’s.

“Don’t stop!” You begged and he nodded, moving faster. It didn’t take long for you to get close, you two almost to your floor.

“Cum for me” Drew whispered and your body erupted in pleasure, finally getting it’s release.

Drew held tour body up as you shook beneath him, a satisfied smile on his face as he watched rob unravel below him.

Ding!

You made it to your floor.

PART TWO?

[lilac-5ky]

Roommates from Hell, pt.2 (Toji x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 2: 2912

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Story Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N: Thanks to everyone who read and enjoyed the first part of the story! I'll do my best to update every 1-2 weeks and to keep things interesting. Feedback and suggestions are always welcome, and if anyone wants to be notified for updates, drop your name in the comments and I'll gladly tag your @.

Warning: Flashback, mentions of violence, blood, and sex toys (odd combo, I know)

2…9…1…2

Deft fingers punched in the numbers on the door’s keypad, a practiced crescendo of beeps and bops granting you access to your flat. Hesitant fingers that dropped to the handle, but refused to push forward, instead anchoring you there. Not yet, you mumbled, your eyes squeezing shut as soon as your forehead hit the frame.

Today has been a long day. So long that you barely had a moment to process the line of rapid escalations as it brought you to this very doorstep, with the ghost of your former scarf dangling from your neck. Some people would rather be glued to the little screens of their little phones than discipline their eight-year-old brats who, for some reason, thought playing tug of war with others’ scarves while they busted their gut to make a leaving to be of utmost entertainment.

Some people ought to keep their genes to themselves, you exasperated, untying the fabric from your neck and then balled it inside your bag, zipping the bunny across the seam.

The bunny…

Toji…

It was becoming a habit of yours to follow up his name with a sigh. Sometimes a sigh that meant “What am I going to do with you?” and others coming from a place of deep longing and frustration, meaning “What am I going to do without you?”

He said he’d be home after “snipping some loose ends,” which in his dictionary either referred to him breaking some poor woman’s heart, or quite literally stabbing some equally unfortunate man’s heart out of his body at his job’s demand. Depending on the plausibility of each scenario, you were given a minimum of four and a maximum of six hours to try and make sense of his actions and devise a plan to make this cohabitation work.

You licked your lips for the millionth time that day, gnawing at the chapped flesh with the edge of your teeth. No lip balm could aspire to salvage their sorry-ass state, aggravated by the low temperatures and honed by your continuous munching on them. You’d become so conscious of their existence, that it seemed as if you were trying hard to erase it before he had the chance to realize his goal of kissing them— even when that was a common goal shared by the both of you.

The taste of metal pooled in the hollow of your mouth, your teeth sinking a tad too deep. There wasn’t much reason to keep contemplating that which never happened and that which, perhaps, would never come. You wiped your shoes on the crooked doormat (was it always crooked?) and walked inside, your legs nearly giving out at the sight of two knees dangling from your beloved couch’s armrest.

“Woah, keep it down, won’t ya?”

None other than the voice of Toji reprimanded you as you screamed at the top of your lungs. His body was spilled across your couch, the expanse of muscles barely fitting upon the three azure-colored pillows. A soda —your soda— nested in his palm, while a bag of empty potato chips —your chips— lay on the kotatsu.

“What the hell are you doing here?!?” A trembling hand reached out to where your heart supposedly was, checking whether it was still in its place.

“Watching some travel show about Chikura,” he answered, unfazed and undisturbed. “You like abalone, right? Why don’t we-”

“I’m asking, how the fuck did you get in here?”

“Oh, that,” Toji smirked, lowering the TV’s volume just when the travel host was about to devour a platter full of steaming hot seafood—mouthwatering enough to divert your attention for a second. “Sayaka let me in.”

“Sa-yaka…?”

“Flat hair, narrow eyes— kinda like Izumi Pinko. Walks around with a cane twice her size. Rings a bell?”

“Talking about Ogawa-san?” you asked, a caricature of your crabby landlady taking shape before your very eyes. “She never lets in anyone without a key, though. Last time I forgot mine, she acted as if she didn’t know me and went right past. Had to phone a locksmith,” you sighed, murmuring under your breath about the extravagant sum of money you were forced to pay. “How did you do it? Convince her to open up?”

“How else ya think?” His chin rotated leisurely atop his knuckles.

“You can’t be serious! Y-you fucked her?” Your eyes went wide like saucers, the notion sounding both feasible and surreal.

His smirk sharpened into a sly grin as he stood up, a slight slouch on his shoulders carrying him to your eye level. You couldn’t exactly look away from this proximity, so you began quietly analyzing him. The tight-fitting black tee and baggy training pants that greatly accentuated his hips and shoulders; his work outfit. The overgrown hair that curtained the dark circles of his eyes; evidence of a sleepless night. The absence of scent, not even of dirt, sweat, or struggle. He must’ve actually been working on a bounty, you deduced, your final thought of rationale as he invaded the last bit of personal space you’d left.

“You really think the worst of me, huh?” His tongue circled his lips, prompting yours to do the same as you sheepishly shook your head, the sultry sound of his voice as hypnotizing as his hooded green eyes were.

“You think I go ‘round spreading the legs of everything that moves?” Toji asked again, his tone growing more condescending by the second. “ ‘fraid that ain’t the case, princess. I’m not into goodwill. Don’t do things without merit, either. She asked who I was, got all perky when I said I’m moving in, and then handed me these,” he paused, throwing a bundle of creased envelopes at your feet.

You kneeled awkwardly, seeking the sender’s origin in each logo seal. Water company. Electricity company. Phone company. Insurance company. Even the bills from that one debit card Hinata issued in your name in case of an emergency.

“Could say I paid my way in,” he scoffed, his eyes searching for an inkling of appreciation that he failed to find in your stubborn squint.

“I could’ve handled these myself.”

“Thought you’d say this, that’s why I saved this one,” he tossed another, smaller yellow-tinted paper onto the pile. “Eviction notice. My, you have it quite hard, don’tcha?”

“I don’t need classes on financial handling from someone whose living conditions are entirely dependent on ‘the bimbo of the week’,” you snapped, rising back to your feet with the bills in hand.

Maybe things were a bit tighter these past few months than you’d accounted for, but you weren’t like him. Sooner or later, you paid all expenses through sheer work and effort— a concept foreign to him, who’d rather be thrown into the streets than save a dime.

You weren’t like Toji. Not one bit. You knew that if he hadn’t run into your landlady, you would have definitely paid all your debts off in a month’s time or two, even if that meant devolving your breakfast’s nutritional value to that of instant ramen. You could take care of yourself, just like you’d done for 14 years now. He had no right to interfere because, come next month, you’d—

But the overdue deadlines at the top of each paper spoke louder than your inner thoughts and bravado did. The next month would never come for you. Not in this house, at least.

Defeated, you unfolded the paper, straightening the creases your fingernails had helped create. You hated feeling this way— indebted. The last thing you wanted was for this to turn into just another transactional relationship with an expiration date dependent on the other’s wage.

“Thank you, and,” you mumbled, your stare hiking up his body and stopping at his chest —right about where the difference in your height manifested— “….sorry, I guess. Just thought that with the way you look, and all that-”

“The way I look…?” A winsome smile tugged at his dimples, his left hand weaving through his hair as if he were oblivious to how effortlessly attractive he appeared in his work clothes, every single crevice of his body visible under the little piece of fabric.

“N-never mind.” You tore your eyes away, cheeks flushing bright red at thoughts a friend shouldn’t be having. “How was work?”

“Pretty dead,” he shrugged, using the same hand to rub some of the tension around the crook of his neck. “Don’t see a real challenge rising until that Gojo kid hatches from his egg. Rest die like flies.”

As a regular person with about an average percentage of cursed energy running through your system, you had little understanding of the mystical world of Jujutsu and its sorcerers, all the information you had acquired being bits and pieces that Toji had shared with you over the years. He never went into too much detail about his job but never hid anything either. He killed sorcerers with the same ease he spread butter on his bread.

You really didn’t understand much, and perhaps the keywords “kills for a living” ought to ring an alarm or two, but an outsider like you who didn’t abide by their rules had no right judging those who broke them. Besides, with the way his family had disposed of him as if he were a chewed piece of gum stuck on the back of their sole, things weren’t as black and white as one would assume.

“Gojo, you say,” the name sounding awfully familiar on your tongue. “Is that one of the three big clans?”

Toji nodded, his arms folding over his chest. “Special grade when he ain’t grown any pubes yet,” he scoffed, voice twisting in an unnatural way that could have tricked you into thinking he was jealous of the young boy.

“Are you gonna kill him?”

His brows knitted together, clearly not expecting such bluntness. “Question is, can I? Answer being, for the right price,” the frown he wore subdued into a crooked smile. “maybe. Kid should fetch one good wad of cash. I’m sure many want the six eyes out of the picture.”

Six eyes?

“Just make sure you save some of it,” you mindlessly said, eyes dancing around the room for the first time since you’d entered the house.

There were no real signs of his presence. The duffel bag seemed to be nowhere in sight either. Only his shoes were left by the door right next to yours, a sign you’d completely missed upon entering.

“What happened to your things, by the way? Don’t see ‘em.”

“Took the liberty of sorting them out,” Toji said. “You had a lot more empty space than you made it sound earlier.”

Somehow that statement terrified you— not because you were some overbearing control freak who didn’t want others interfering with their stuff, but because you feared the misplaced items he might have found casually lying around, providing him with all the excuse he needed to tease you to an excruciatingly slow and shameful death.

You went on a parade through the rooms, Toji following in your steps like a well-trained puppy, letting you freely inspect the new “changes”.

In the living room, you spotted a pair of dumbbells lying by the window, heavy enough that when you tried to pick one of them up, it resulted in one loud, unintentional shriek as your feet were nearly crushed, much to Toji’s vile amusement. Then in the bathroom, you found a second toothbrush that shared the exact same color yours did, along with a black fuzzy towel and a men’s deodorant that was missing its lid. You’d have to get another cup for his toothbrush, you noted, and moved along, eventually making it to your apartment’s sole bedroom.

“Where are your clothes?” you asked, Toji nodding in your closet’s direction.

You opened the first door, finding a series of dark-colored shirts, sweaters, and cardigans hanging from the previously vacant racks. You didn’t wear much color yourself, but when comparing the disparity between his almost exclusively black side of the space and the creamier pastels that predominated yours, the clash in taste was indisputable.

Absentmindedly, you run your fingers through his clothes, stopping at the dark blue parka you’d gotten him for his 21st birthday. He wasn’t the type to keep gifts from women, but seeing he’d preserved yours in mint condition filled you with a strange sense of pride.

“Not bad,” you exclaimed, satisfied with how aptly his clothes were displayed until a new worry surfaced. “What about your underwear?”

He glanced toward the bottom drawer, his instep gently kicking against it. You weren’t too sure if that was necessary, and under different circumstances, you’d rather avoid such overt embarrassment, but this was your house first and foremost. Your closet, your drawer, and—

“The bottom drawer…?” The realization struck like a ton of bricks, your pupils widening and then trembling as a breath hitched up your throat, remaining there.

The bottom drawer is where you kept it, perhaps the only thing in this entire household that you’d rather he didn’t see, at the cost of your own life, even. A rabbit, whose little ears tapped in excitement every time it saw you. A rabbit vastly different from the ones that hopped around happily in fields or the one that was weaved through the zipper of your handbag. A rabbit that had kept you company in his place many nights and knew the sound of his name better than Toji himself did.

Sinking to your knees, you felt his shadow loom over you like the shadow of imminent death. You let go of that breath and yanked the drawer open, eyes squinting at the sight of neatly stacked black boxers, their size big enough to make you arch a brow, yet not big enough to completely conceal 6 inches of hot pink. You were safe.

“Looking for this?” A light buzz rang in your ear, your head tilting to meet Toji’s namesake.

“G-give it back!” You dived forward, gracelessly collapsing at his feet when he pulled it out of reach.

“Come and get it,” Toji retorted, wiggling it before your very eyes.

Piecing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you pounced at him, fingers locking around the silicone and his hand, while he refused to surrender, his thrilled expression revealing just how much he enjoyed the demand in your tone as you bossed him into handing back the vibrator.

“What will I get in return?”

“Wha— why would you get anything?” You gritted your teeth, stumbling forward as he dragged you to him.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he shook his forefinger playfully. “Finders keepers, losers weepers. If ya really want it, better compensate me first. Oh, look, it has multiple speeds, huh….” he said semi-impressed, revving up the rabbit’s switch to its second and third speeds.

“…What do you want?” You practically begged, seeking a way out of this humiliation.

“Now we talking,” Toji smirked, barely restraining himself from ruffling the hair of the ferocious, albeit cute, beast that attacked him. “2912. What do the numbers mean? Tried your birthday first, but seems like you do have a few brain cells in there,” he tapped at your temple with his free hand, frustration pooling in your eyes. “Then your mom’s death anniversary, your sis’ birthday, that brat’s too— even mine, but no good.

“So, what’s 2912 to you? Indulge me, and I’ll let you have it.”

2912, or more accurately, 29/12. It didn’t surprise you that he didn’t remember. After all, it wasn’t an important date, just another winter’s day from many, many years ago. A day that was all but erased under the thick blanket of snow as it engulfed your tender memories.

A heavy sigh parted your lips, and at that moment, you knew you’d already lost.

“You really wanna know?”

It was the 27th of December.

The 27th morning of a month whose sole notable event was the week-long blizzard that’d condemned the entire nation to a period of absolute and unfaltering inertia. Well, as unfaltering as the in-between downpours let it be, snow washing over the streets in a diluted mixture of ice and mud every two days— streets turning into a dangerous minefield, and hospital beds quickly filling up with broken-boned smarty pants who thought wandering out and about in the heart of winter would be as inconsequential as those dull days were.

You were one of those idiots. Not quite, but you were on your way to join their ranks, every step you took across the frozen pavements of Tokyo threatening to leave you with a bad case of a sprained ankle, or worse, a cracked skull. You regretted wearing those worn-out boots today of all days, but then again, your wardrobe choices were limited to whatever clothing you’d grown out of, and the clothes your mother left behind.

This old suede pair was hers, too. A gift from back when your house was still open to crowds and birthday parties— when it wasn’t just an empty carcass of termite-eaten joists and web-infested corners that could barely welcome, let alone host, the final of its residents: yourself.

Returning to the reason why you’d chosen today as the day to stride across Shibuya —a thermos of soothing Butajiru soup gripped tightly between your mitten-clad palms and a backpack full of advertising fliers for your afternoon job attached to your back— and consequentially, the reason why you sported your mother’s beloved shoes: you had a job interview. Your first non-canceled interview in over two months since your personal inertia began when you were suddenly and unjustifiably laid off.

Those were tough times. The entire country was dipped in despair over the biggest economic recession they’d known. Left and right, people had their jobs snatched from within their grasp in the name of meek excuses such as cost reduction, or merging and buyouts, or even staff redundancy, and who could blame those small enterprise owners, really?

In any case, the cost of running your previous employer’s rathole of a convenience store might have been reduced, but your living expenses weren’t, and the supplementary funds the state provided were running dry. No one wanted to hire an inexperienced, uninsured high schooler. It was too much of a gamble, especially when the contenders were overqualified college graduates desperate enough to work menial jobs for the same breadcrumbs a part-timer would.

You were at your wit’s end. Out of luck and starved for something other than vending machine onigiri. Thirsty for a life you’d probably never be able to obtain. But today wasn’t about wallowing in self-pity. No, today was the day you’d take your first step toward normality and dignity. Today, you marched proudly in your mother’s most prized possession, and today you felt her comforting scent linger in the breeze, giving you the much-needed push to achieve what you’d set out to do.

Live. That was the final request that left her lips, and that was exactly what you were planning to do. You’d live. No matter what, against all odds, you would live.

The headlights at the bustling intersection shone a brilliant green as the herd of sharply dressed businessmen and casually dressed students on their day off pushed forward like a troop of toy soldiers, sweeping you past Shibuya River, where the crystallized waters from below its bridge stilled your grimacing reflection.

It’d been so long since the last time you’d genuinely smiled that your facial muscles barely remembered how to. It looked awkward and forced. Foreign. You’d practiced your introduction days ahead, but that damn smile stood in the way. If only there was a “smiles for dummies” playbook, though you doubted it’d help. Those without a reason to smile could only second-guess the happiness of those who were blessed with it.

As if to further test your theory, today’s misfortune came pedaling right in your direction, a hasty biker knocking the thermos off your hands and onto the water with a faint “sorry” echoing in his stead. You ducked over the handrail, spotting the silver shine a couple of meters away from the river’s brink. You sighed in relief, grateful that the impact hadn’t shattered the ice and that you still had about 45 minutes to catch your interview— more than enough time for you to carry out your flask’s impromptu rescue operation.

You walked over to the bridge’s sideline, where, in place of stairs, an overgrown cherry tree cast its shadow. This was far from sensible, but the cliff wasn’t steep enough to dissuade you. You looped your scarf around a leaning branch and began your descent, the non-existent friction between your tattered soles and the slippery cement sending you to meet your maker as you tumbled down the slope and hit the ground. Shit.

Once you were done lamenting your sheer idiocy, your faulty shoes, the tree branch, the weather forecast, and every Shinto deity’s name you could remember off the top of your head, you pushed yourself onto your knees, carefully rotating each ankle around itself. Not broken. Thank those aforementioned gods you cursed, or else you’d never be able to afford the medical bills.

You shook the snow off your clothes and stood up, stretching both arms over your head, only to realize your blunder had become a lonesome spectator’s object of amusement. The man —assuming that the creature behind you was a man and not some wild beast with the way his jacket fluffed over his skull— was bent in half, knees to his chest, and arms coiled around, the sole distinctive trait that of his sparkling green eyes zeroing in on your plainer orbs.

You could have sworn you heard a chuckle, too, but you weren’t about to start a fight with some unhinged bum at the bottom of a bridge— not when you were one missed bill away from sharing his fate.

Deciding to temporarily forsake his presence, you located the now broken branch and attempted to fish your bottle out, moving as close to the ice as you could. Desperate lunges pushed the thermos further in, your hold on the wood relaxing with each failed attempt until you barely had a grip.

“Excuse me!” you turned at your last resort. “Hi, um… could you please help me out here? I dropped this into the water, and it’s really important I get it back, but my arms can’t reach and the ice is so thin and slippery I just might fall.”

An uncomfortable chuckle failed to appease its tough crowd, with the man remaining lost in his thoughts, his eyes blinking slower than traffic lights during rush hours. It seemed like you’d found the worst person to exercise your communication skills with.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

“Shut up.”

It was your turn to blink in surprise, your jaw dropping at the man’s barking. You were too shocked to be offended and too offended to question if it was you he addressed, but his next sentence left no real room for misunderstanding.

“I said, shut the fuck up and take it elsewhere. You were the one who dropped it. If it was that important to you, then shoulda taken better care of it instead of avalanching your way down here and disturbing my peace.”

Clapping your hands over your agape mouth, you muttered an apology and faced away from him, coming to your senses a minute later when you realized you weren’t in the wrong. Sure, he could be dealing with some lachrymose life-shattering situation you knew nothing about, but that wasn’t an excuse for him to act like a complete jerk to a fellow stranger in need.

You weren’t sure why you held back from flipping him off. Maybe you’d accepted that dealing with douchebags was going to become part of your new reality as a service worker, or maybe it was because you really didn’t want any trouble with a guy who looked this intimidating even while seated. Either way, you whipped out your trusty branch again and neared the brink, this time using it as a cane to help you tread the frozen waters and snatch your thermos.

You didn’t even get a chance at a victorious cheer when you felt the ice shatter beneath your feet, eager to swallow you into the depths of its bottomless abyss. Or that’s what would have happened if the river didn’t cap at 2 meters, and if a hand didn’t yank you by the scruff of your neck, hurling you back to the shore as if you weighed no more than a snowflake.

“The hell you think you are doing? Got a death wish or something?” the brass voice of your savior accused, belonging to a much more pleasant and youthful face than one would have expected.

The boy was more or less your age, about a head taller with broad shoulders and a toned physique his baggy clothes undermined— much stronger than your average high-schooler, judging by the sheer strength he’d flung your body with. Messy raven black hair rained down to his ears, sloppily chopped into shape by their owner himself. Eyes as green as a thousand springs gone by, and as fiery as the blazing fury scorching them. The only discord in his features was that of a scar on the right side of his lips, begrudgingly moving with each profanity he spat.

Your second apology came as a knee-jerk reaction to his outburst, encouraged by the temporal trance his good looks had subjected you to. You wouldn’t say you had a type, and even if you did, you doubted that a no-good, rude bridge inhabitant was it. However, the only way for you to tear your gaze off of him was to physically force yourself away. The guy murmured something under his breath and moved back to his original spot, arms dangling over his spread thighs.

You were unsure of what to do. The time for your interview was closing in, and no one guaranteed he wouldn’t rip the vocal cords off your throat if you tried to verbally thank him. You had a very bad feeling about this guy, and perhaps you should have listened to your gut rather than nullifying the distance with a peace offering.

“Here,” you prodded a spare cup of soup into the empty space between you.

He arched a brow at your gesture, his irritation gradually melting into curiosity and then acceptance as he brought the cup to his lips and took a hesitant sip.

“Hmm,” he hummed, gulping down some more after he’d made sure you weren’t trying to poison him.

You expected something else to follow, but it seemed like his outburst exhausted his vocabulary. You could always ask what he thought of it, but the thought alone was as scary as going for another suicide dive. So you said nothing, and he did the same. Just two strangers who barely tolerated each other sharing a moment of silence in the snowy landscape.

A short while later, the boy shoved the cup toward you and dug his hand in his jacket’s front pocket, dropping about six crumpled ten-thousand yen bills at your feet.

“For the soup,” he explained as if the notion of spending such an extravagant sum on half a cup of pork loin soup made sense.

“Are you outta your mind?” You pushed the bills back at him, lest your greed take over. “How much do you think this cost to make?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged, no real hurry to reclaim his cash.

Your initial impression was completely false. No bum would ever wave ten-thousand bills around as if they were nothing. No, this guy ought to at least be some troubled conglomerate heir that’d run away from his five-bedroom mansion.

“I’m sure you don’t know how dangerous this neighborhood is,” you said, placing your hand against your heart. “But as a born and raised local, allow me to say that if you keep flaunting wads of cash in people’s faces so recklessly, it won’t be long before you get mugged. It’s your lucky day you ran into me and not some sleazy money grabber, but trust me, not every day’s lucky, and not everyone’s as nice.”

Something about what you said must have resonated with him, considering his frown cracked into a simper.

“I’d like to see them try,” he spoke in a cocky tone that reeked of confidence. “How much for seconds then?”

“Not for sale,” you answered, throwing the thermos inside your backpack.

His weight shifted in your direction, chin balancing against his elbow. “Why not?”

“You see, I’m on my way to a job interview. Figured if I don’t cut it, then the soup will,” quickly adding, “It’s my trump card.”

“What a dumb plan,” he sneered. “If ya wanna bribe someone, better make an offer they can’t refuse. Couple of these work like a charm.”

He waved the money again, successfully drawing your interest when you noticed tiny splotches of red on one of the bills. Blood.

Picking up on the change in your expression, he hurriedly stuffed the cash inside his pocket, his thumbs sticking out in a relaxed grip so as to hide his discomfort. The air grew heavy once more, albeit for a different reason.

Every guess you’d made regarding this guy’s identity clashed with the next one. He was rude, but he’d jumped to your rescue. He looked unkempt yet strikingly handsome. He’d taken refuge under a bridge but was damn loaded. A walking (more like seated) contradiction of a man that intrigued you in more ways than he repulsed you.

“So, what are you doing out here? Did you also fall from up there?” You chuckled nervously while pointing upward.

He smiled.

“That’s a pretty old-school pickup line, if ya ask me.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Your chest pounded against your fleece jacket, hands quick to dispute him. “Did something happen? Why did you end up here?”

He shook his head.

“Did you run away from home?”

He shook his head again.

“Did you get into a fight with someone?”

He thought about shaking his head a third time, but instead, he opted for a groan and hissed about how he should have let you drown.

Your tongue embarrassed you yet again, as you mumbled an apology and cowered in your corner. For some reason, you couldn’t stop apologizing to him, and if that was enough to frustrate you, then it was definitely enough to annoy him. Maybe the time to leave had come. You’d done your part in thanking him, and it was really none of your business to pry into his sad character backstory.

“Well then. It was nice knowing you, and all. Hope you have a Happy New Year’s and a nice life, and let’s never see each other again for as long as we-”

“What if I told you I just killed someone?”

The blood in your veins froze for a reason separate from the cold. You were left staring at him with wide-open eyes and a wide-open mouth that refused to form anything other than a soundless “What?!”

“Thought so,” he scoffed as if he expected the outcome, sorrow lingering in his voice. “Go away if ya don’t wanna end up the same way. I’m still getting the hang of it, and I’m afraid it’d hurt more than drowning.”

But you didn’t leave. Even when that little voice of reason thrashed and begged for you to seize the opportunity and get the fuck away from this place, your legs refused to take another step. Instead, you settled back upon the snowy blanket and stilled your gaze on his face, watching a glimmer of something tune in the green of his eyes.

“W-Who was it?” You feigned calmness.

“Does it matter?” he shrugged.

“Why did you kill him?”

“Does it really matter?” he sighed, reconsidering his answer. “Dunno. Money, I guess. Not as if I had a personal grudge or anything. Didn’t even know the dude up until three days ago. Took him out with a single bullet to his brain. T’was instant since he didn’t move. Painless, too.” He tried to humanize his actions.

You weren’t entirely sold on his story, but on the off chance he was telling the truth, that made him a murderer and you a witness to his crime. Worse, if you didn’t rat on him, it made you an accomplice, and as far as you were concerned, neither was less illegal than the other.

Your hands cupped your mouth completely as you pretended to blow hot air, the reality being that you didn’t want to spew anything too backhanded before thinking things through. Oddly, it all made sense. The reason he sat down there like a puppy kicked by his owners. His devil-may-care attitude and rude comments that meant to throw you off. The blood on the bills and the stain on the hem of his jacket that you’d previously overlooked.

That was all the incriminating evidence one needed to possibly sentence him, and yet you sensed no real danger in his presence. Only a deep sadness that stemmed from his lifeless eyes, making you believe that his so-called victim was none other than himself. He looked as if he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep in God knows how long, the light in his eyes reduced to a murky shade of jade now that everything was laid bare.

There was so much you didn’t know about this boy, his name included. But you knew that look of despair all too well. If it was because of money, then maybe, just this once, you wouldn’t mind giving him the benefit of the doubt.

“How much did you make?” You lowered your palms.

Your question surprised him more than he thought possible, and his stupefied expression was a telltale sign of that. He flipped both pockets inside out and let the money fall onto the snow, revealing twice the amount he’d held before— a total of 120.000 yen.

“Minus a grand. Felt hungry after,” he admitted.

“Must be nice… With that amount of money, I could have rice to last me until the end of the year.”

“You’d kill for rice…?”

Glancing at his face, you couldn’t help yourself from snorting. You were both too deep inside the twilight zone to be questioning each other’s motives.

“Why act surprised? People like us do all sorts of things to get out of our predicaments, don’t we?” you asked, deciding there were more things you had in common than things that divided you. “Is ‘just money’ a better reason than rice?”

“Nah,” he shook his head. “But if I were you, I’d get myself a pair of boots that ain’t a death trap of its own. Gotta be a special kind of idiot to wear crappy shoes in the snow.”

“These were my mother’s!” you objected, and he smirked. “What about you? Where do you plan on spending all that money?”

“Roppongi probably. Or Kabukicho. Heard the right price fetches you the right type of fun there.”

He couldn’t be serious. Those were two of the most renowned bad districts in the history of bad districts. Drugs, gambling, prostitution— you name it.

“How old are you again?”

“Older than you,” he childishly retorted.

“What’s your name?”

“So you can snitch?” His tongue wet the scar below his bottom lip. “Toji.”

“Last name?”

He contemplated his answer for a bit before proudly stating that he didn’t have one —that he didn’t need one— and then he asked you the same.

“Y/N.” You smiled faintly. “I do have a last name, but doubt the one who gave it wants me to have it. Would’ve asked it back if it had any real value.”

“So we are two fuck-ups,” he— Toji, declared.

“I suppose we are.”

The two of you shared a quiet laugh, the kind that wasn’t heard but felt through the eyes of two kindred spirits entirely content with each other’s presence. Ever since your mother passed, you lived in a sphere separate from other people. Your classmates and those who tried to be your friends could afford the luxury of sharing takoyaki on a school day and going karaoke singing the next. They could attend field trips and leave memories on a string of Polaroid frames.

You didn’t. You couldn’t. There wasn’t a single moment in your life when you hadn’t thought about the cost of milk and the value of one-plus-one deals you convinced yourself you didn’t need. Such were the concerns you had at seventeen. Not boys, no friendships, no university entrance exams, no nothing. You couldn’t afford the price tag of a dream, let alone a tomorrow. You lived for today and for making ends meet, so how could someone like you ever aspire to be understood? How could you ever view yourself as something other than the zeros at the bottom of your meager paycheck?

Your self-exile had no room for others, yet somehow, this foul-mouthed stranger had barged his way in and given you a moment that you couldn’t price. A moment that neither loan sharks nor the bank could ever steal. A moment of your youth.

The thick fingers of a calloused hand came to tap at your knee softly, making you wonder whether you’d missed something during your short period of contemplation.

“When’s the interview?” Toji asked.

“Uhm.” You rolled your sleeve to check your watch. “Ten minutes? There’s still time; the place’s right around the corner.”

“Somethin’ tells me getting your ass over there will take longer than that.” Suddenly, the hand that was on your leg hovered above your head, prompting you to grab it as Toji towered over you. “Let’s go.”

“You coming with?”

“You think I’d rather sit down here like some bridge troll that reels in defenseless damsels in distress?”

You were tempted to answer “yes” to see his reaction, but he resumed talking before you could utter a word. “Won’t say it again. Let’s go.”

And with that, you followed Toji to the other end of the bridge, where the stairs you previously failed to locate mocked you with every little squeak your heels produced, until you stood back at the top of civilization, finding it, unsurprisingly, the same as you’d left it. Thoroughly white and eerily quiet.

Just as you thought your ways would part, Toji took your hand in his rather forcefully and picked up a steady gait that you were made to keep up with, your shoes leaving deep imprints in the snow.

He held your hand all the way to the diner, and although you were truly curious as to why he did that, you didn’t dare ask. You walked side by side in silence, occasional fleeting gazes catching his warm breath clashing with the cold. It was then that you realized how warm his palm felt, despite it being all bare. Warm, strong, and certain. So this is what holding a guy’s hand feels like, you giddily mused.

By the time you reached the front door, you were more reluctant to let go than you’d been to grab his hand, thinking that this was the first and last time the two of you were saying goodbye. Sweat made your fingers slippery. You were anxious. You slid your mittens off your fingers and, on a whim, pressed them tight against his palms, making him the recipient of the first gift you’d ever given. He shot the pink-colored wool a funny look —maybe because the prospect of him accepting such a girly-looking accessory puzzled him— and then lingered for a moment or two before he turned around and waved at you over his shoulder.

“Aren’t you gonna wish me good luck?” You asked when the distance between you began to increase.

“You won’t need it,” you heard him say. “The soup will do.”

And with those final words exchanged, you traded the frigid cold for the diner’s artificial heat and the presence of a prospective friend for that of your boss-to-be.

Just like Toji predicted, you didn’t need luck, and you didn’t need that lukewarm soup either. The man hired you almost as fast as he saw you, sternly announcing that you start come Monday. You thanked him from the bottom of your heart and ran back outside, searching through the various white-painted buildings for that stubborn hint of black you’d not too long ago parted with— which you quickly spotted a couple of alleyways ahead.

“I got the job! You hear me, Toji?” You yelled in utter glee, sensibility alone keeping you from springing upward like a jack-in-the-box. “I’m not a fuck-up anymore; I got it! I got the job!”

You weren’t even sure whether that shadow really belonged to him and whether he’d actually made sense of all your frantic cries, but maybe if you’d hushed a little, then you could have heard a distant voice chiming, “I knew you would.”

It was the 27th of December when we first met, but it was on the 29th that I fell in love with you— the scruffy boy with the snow-laced hair and emptied pockets who ordered the cheapest fries off the menu as my company’s fee.

You had your answer locked and loaded— a trigger waiting to be pulled. A clear shot. One bullet was all it’d take to end it. One word, and the farce you called friendship would fizzle right then and there. A sadistic impulse uncoiled deep within your stomach, hitching up your throat like a vile serpent of temptation spurring your chaste tongue to commit the greatest sin imaginable.

I hate being your friend. I don’t want to do this anymore. Do you have any idea how hard it is?

All synonyms for the same emotion. A gut-wrenching, soul-crushing, and above all, self-destructive unrequited love that made your heart clench at the mere sight of him, pound at the sound of his voice, and hammer at the ghost of his touch. If you could reach deep within your chest and cut that useless thing off the strings that held it in its cavity, you certainly would. You’d hand it over to him and gladly watch him stomp on it with the biggest smile contorting the final expression on your face. You wanted to rid yourself of this pointless emotion, but you knew very well that to destroy yourself meant to destroy him.

The 18-year-old Toji that held your hand on a cold winter’s day as if it were the most precious thing to him. The 20-year-old Toji that came along to meet the sister and nephew you didn’t know you had. The 22-year-old Toji that said he was proud of you when you paid off your parents’ house’s mortgage. The 24-year-old Toji that came to your graduation from state college with blood-stained lilies in his hand, again letting slip how proud he was. The 26-year-old Toji that didn’t hesitate to knock the teeth right out of a handsy prick’s jaw, spending his first and last night in a holding cell. The Toji from the last ten years of your life that never strayed too far away from your sight and always managed to return in time for lunch.

Standing in front of the 28-year-old Toji, you felt more apologetic than ever, wishing that you wouldn’t have let your love for him fester into something so selfish and consuming. Because if Toji left, then you’d still have your sister and her family, but if you left, Toji would have none.

And that was why you could never tell him what that day meant. It was impossible to speak of it with any less fondness than the one depicted in your memories, and as dense as Toji could be at times, he was no idiot. So rather than giving him the answer he thought himself to seek, you retracted your hand and took a step back, forcing the meekest smile your guilty conscience could muster.

“How about an offer you’d never refuse?”

tags: @absoluteindulgence

[melonminnie]

Becoming the villains family x reader but what if Tristan never managed to find you? ( version 2)

-I don’t know if this is considered part five tbh I’m just really bored and need to pump out fics before I start school I forgot what age Lloyd was when he killed the count but they 18 n 14 here!

Even after searching through the entire empire, Tristan still couldn’t find the 10 year olds sister, he had promised her that he would find her, hell he even went to count Cortez’s house but he denied that she was there.

The male didn’t have the guts to tell aria he wasn’t able to find her, when he finally did say it, the look of disappointment quickly washed over her face.

Fourteen year old aria tried convincing Lloyd to find her sister, she believed strongly that nothing had happened to her, everyone was able to tell how hopefully she was that you’d end up fine, she wanted you to end up fine.

Of course aria never gave up the little hope she had for you, she even decorated an entire room for you, each year she’d change it to fit your age, Lloyd was maybe going crazy that his wife was so hopeful over a possibly dead family member.

“Aria shouldn’t you-”, “no I’m never ever giving up on her” she interrupted him, “she’s my only family member” she added Starring at the newly decorated room, this was the millionth time.

Aria was now four years older, which means she was eight teen, she held onto Lloyd sleeve, “Can you please just once.. can you try finding her” she whispered her eyes darting to the floor.

The black haired boy sighed, “fine”he lifted her chin, “but this is the last time I’m taking her for dead if I don’t find her this time”

And so he travelled to the counts house, Lloyd had agreed for one reason, that was to kill the count while he was at it.

When arriving to said destination, Lloyd quickly got rid of any person he had found troublesome or annoying, to quickly get things done with.

He quickly did a quick search of the house, did once, then twice, then thrice.

he didn’t find a single person who fitted the description given to him,Not in the kitchen nor the maids room, surely he couldn’t have sold you off?.

Lloyd wasn’t able to find traces of children clothes nor food, even teenage ones, nor was he able to find birth certificates, or any sightings of you.

it was like you simply didn’t exist.

As much as Lloyd wanted to give up, he couldn’t, he couldn’t go back and explain to aria what she had heard of a hundred of times threw out the years.

And as he was lost in his thoughts, he’d heard a sound of something falling, it couldn’t be mistaken, he’d surely killed anyone in this place.

did a maid manage to escape?, perhaps a knight?.

Lloyd slowly drew out his sword and starting walking in the direction of the sound, inching closely towards it.

The boy sighed in relief when he came across a pink haired girl, maybe around 13years old?,Nonetheless she looked young.

The room was filled with silence, clearly from her expression, she didn’t expect him to still be here.

She’d thought he’d long been gone.

The two somehow came to a mutual agreement in the silence that she is arias young sister.

He quickly helped her from her crawling position, her arms were very thin, he though to himself.

“Do you even eat?” He mumbled to himself.

The abrupt question slightly made name freak out, sense well, she doesn’t even know who he is.

“Does soup count?”she clearly had a bad thing with eye contact sense she looked terrified.

Lloyd somehow felt familiar with this situation, as if he’d faced this before.

“No that’s liquid” he sighed as he held onto her arm, walking her out.

The silence between the two was uncomfortable.

Once they both settled inside the carriage, it became even more awkward.

Any question Lloyd would ask, was met with silence.

He soon got the hint that she was somewhat terrified of the older boy.

Truthfully, Lloyd didn’t expect to find her.

But luck was on Arias side today.

“Sorry I’m bad with conversations” the girl voiced out, “I can tell” The black haired man replied.

“Yeah..”

“Yeah”

Soon after the pair arrived at the valentine mansion, getting passed the barrier.

Aria was waiting patiently for at least Lloyd, of course with you!.

She soon saw the familiar carriage driving to the entrance, she took it as Lloyd arriving so she quickly ran down to greet him.

Lloyd had gotten out of the carriage by the time aria had arrived.

Arias heart was beating fast, so fast, because of the hope he’d found her younger sister.

When the two saw each other, Aria smiled slightly before mouthing to him.

‘Did you find her?’ That’s what Lloyd was able to make out.

To tell the truth, the black haired boys heart was beating fast for a different reason.

“Aria..”

“?”

“The only thing I was able to find was your sisters corpse” he said, The conversation he had shared with what he thought was her sister, was just an illusion.

She’d been dead for a while, considering that he found her bones and not her flesh.

The pinkette began tearing up. ‘Did you at least find her corpse?”

“It’s in the carriage” he replied.

It was probably tearing aria apart, to find her younger sisters corpse, which looked like she’d been dead for a very long time, Aria felt guilty.

And she probably would for the rest of her life, knowing that if someone had at least given them a hint.

You wouldn’t have died, you body wouldn’t have been found in this scenario.

The universe was against her younger sisters happiness in this life.

So the girl could hope.

That if other lives or versions of her do exist, you would live with her, and that they would’ve been able to find you earlier , Tristan would bring you back with only scratch’s, and then she’d make the entire world know of your name.

Only then would she ask you one question, “are you happy?”

If so stay happy, because in this life you weren’t able to have that

This is shit I’m sorry🫶🫶🫶

[witchybitchy222]

Azriel x Reader | Satisfaction Part 3

Alright y’all here it is! The third and final part to satisfaction! I hope you all like it! I know I asked in part 2 and some of you said smut from Az’s POV buttt it just didn’t flow well that way. I’m sorry! Send me any requests you have and as always, thanks for the support! 🫶🏻

WARNINGS: smut, oral both female and male receiving, rough sex, mentions of blood, 18+

——————————————————————————

It was already bright as you opened your eyes, the first rays of the early morning sun were breaking over the mountains and streaming in through your curtains. You sat up with a stretch, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and the events of the night before came rushing back to you.

You’d told Azriel, no not just Azriel, the entire inner circle, that you fantasized about him. And not just that, you were also about 90% sure you’d called him pretty before he left your room.

You threw yourself back on the pillows with a groan, swearing you were never drinking again. Embarrassed wasn’t a strong enough word for how you were feeling right now.

You picked yourself up and got dressed. You were brushing your teeth and desperately trying not to think about how you were going to have to face Azriel in less than an hour, when there was a knock at your door.

You froze in place, your anxious brain telling you it must be Azriel there to tell you to stay far, far away from him.

“Y/N! Open up!” Nesta’s voice flowed in, muffled through the wooden door.

You sighed, pulling the door open for your friend.

“Hey, Cass sent me to see if you were coming to training, or if you were too hungover.”

“Don’t act all friendly like I’ll just forget you made me spill a huge secret last night.” You accused, plopping down on your bed as Nesta followed you inside.

Your friend sighed and sat down next to you.

“Don’t be mad at me, there’s no way he doesn’t know you’re into him. I mean, neither of you are exactly subtle about it.”

“Neither of us?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing

“Oh don’t act like the two of you haven’t been dancing around the subject for ages now. Hells, I’ve only been here a few years and I see it.”

“Azriel isn’t interested in me Nes. And that’s okay. I just really hope I didn’t ruin our friendship over something so stupid.” Nesta put an arm around your shoulder.

“If you honestly think he doesn’t feel the same then I’m sorry. But you know Az! Even if he isn’t into you at all, he’d never make it weird. Azriel is nothing if not a kind male. He’d take you aside and let you know he isn’t interested but still wants to be friends. I mean, that’s what he did with Gwyn.” She shrugged.

Your head shot up, “Gwyn had a thing for Azriel??”

“Uh, yeah. Massive crush. But after some self- reflection she realized she was only interested in him because he was the first male to show her kindness after her attack.”

You sat in silence for a moment. Maybe Nesta was right. Azriel was kind. And what’s the worst that could happen? You’d already embarrassed yourself, it couldn’t get much more humiliating than this.

You took a deep breath, asked your friend to braid your hair, and put on your leathers.

You found Azriel first thing, nervously asking if you could talk to him before everyone got started. He gave you a short nod and followed you to the edge of the roof.

“So,” you sighed, wringing your hands. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry about how I acted last night… it was totally not okay to say all of that… stuff… and I’m sorry if I totally creeped you out.”

You made yourself stop fidgeting and bring your eyes to Azriel’s face.

His head was slightly tilted to one side, the only indication of confusion in his stoic demeanor. You mentally cringed at yourself for what felt like the millionth time today, wishing you’d just crawled back into bed this morning.

You started to stutter out another apology when Azriel’s mouth twisted into a smirk.

“Y/N, there’s no need to apologize. It was a game. You were drunk.” He shrugged, turning back toward the ring. “Oh” he started, looking at you over his shoulder, smirk still firmly in place “by the way, I don’t think you’re creepy in the slightest.” The shadowsinger shot you a wink before joining Cassian in stretching.

You were left momentarily stunned. Was Azriel… flirting with you? Holy shit…. It was so on.

You took a moment to collect yourself before leading your group of priestesses in their warm up stretches. You’d worn an oversized jacket to the training ring this morning, the early chill keeping it cool until the sun fully crested over the mountains. Feeling Azriel’s eyes on you from across the roof, you shed your jacket, stretching in the early morning sun, leaving you in your tight scoop neck tank top, the curve of your breasts exposed, and your Illyrian leather pants, daggers strapped to each thigh, material clinging to every curve. You looked over your shoulder at the shadowsinger and shot him a grin.

This game was fun. And you were good at it, your confidence soaring each time you felt Azriel’s eyes on you as you trained. You made sure to bend over more than necessary, giving him a view of your ass each time, winking when you caught him staring. For nearly 45 minutes you kept half your attention on your teaching and the other half on teasing Azriel.

As you wrapped up your defense lesson for the day, Cassian jogged across the ring, waving at you as he approached.

“Hey!” He called, “you still wanna do that self defense demonstration?”

You nodded, eyes sliding to Azriel, an idea forming. “For sure! Tell Az I need him to be my partner.”

“Alright” Cassian grinned as he situated the priestesses around the center ring.

You squared up with Azriel, a smirk on your face.

“Okay,” you clapped, turning to the crowd, “I know it can be intimidating when you’re attacked by a male twice your size” you gestured at the shadowsinger, “but just remember to calm your mind, sometimes being smaller is an advantage.”

You walked back to Azriel, placing your back against his now bare chest, making sure to wiggle your backside against him as he situated his arms around you. He leaned down and growled in your ear “your teasing isn’t funny, Y/N. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” His voice was silky smooth, quiet breath sending shivers down your spine as you took in his words. It was hard to concentrate as you moved through the motions, and the demonstration passed in a daze.

You were grabbing a drink of water and calming your nerves as the priestesses filed out. “Up for a round?” Azriel asked, twirling truth teller in his hand as he smirked at you.

“You’re on, shadowsinger.” You winked, grabbing the daggers from your thighs.

He lunged for you immediately, striking with grace and precision, leaving you only seconds to dodge. You danced around each other, slashing and spinning in a deadly dance, evenly matched until you managed to catch him off guard. He knew you favored your right hand, so you led with it, making to swipe for his throat, while your left hand jabbed at his ribs, dagger hilt-first, landing a blow in precisely the right spot to knock the breath from his lungs. Quick as a cat, your leg shot out, sweeping him off his feet, but as tricky as you’d been, he was just as good, slashing out with truth teller and landing a shallow cut across your exposed chest before pinning you down underneath him.

You were both breathing hard as he stared down at you from above, your daggers still gripped in your hands as he pinned your wrists on either side of your head, his knees settling around your hips.

The look he was giving you was more intense than the fighting that had just taken place, so you were more than shocked when his lips met yours in barely a brush.

You gasped, staring up at him in shock before lifting your head and catching his lips again. He groaned as he leaned into you, kissing you harder. Your lips opened for him, letting him taste you. It was like your brain had short-circuited and all you could think of was him.

You started to lift your arms, wanting to reach up and pull him closer, but quickly realized your wrists were still pinned down. You whined in frustration and he pulled away, chuckling at you.

“I want to touch you.” You breathed, and he let out a groan “you’re gonna be the death of me.” Azriel’s eyes scanned your face before settling on the now healing cut across your chest. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as if he’d just noticed his knife had actually made contact.

He brought his eyes back to yours before leaning down and kissing your jaw, down your neck to the scratch his blade had made before dragging his tongue across it, licking up the blood as his eyes bore into yours. You let out an unabashed moan as arousal began to pool in your core, imagining his tongue all over your body.

He released your wrists and you immediately dropped your daggers, hands flying to his hair to pull him back in for a kiss.

Shadows enveloped you and a moment later your back was hitting the soft surface of what must’ve been Azriel’s bed.

He sat back and looked at you, “is this okay?” He asked, and you grinned in response, locking your legs around his waist and pulling him against you again.

He laughed and went back to kissing your neck, his hands wandering up and down the curves of your sides. You threw your head back to give him better access as you drug your hands down his chest, feeling every inch of defined muscles.

Azriel’s hands slid under your top and you sat up, pulling it over your head and exposing your breasts to him.

He stared for a moment, rough hands lightly tracing your chest and torso. You grabbed his wrist, bringing his palm to your mouth and planting a kiss in the middle, hoping to erase any hesitation. He gave you a small smile before dipping his head down and attaching his mouth to your right breast, licking and sucking on your nipple. You moaned at the sensation, his hand squeezing your other breast before switching.

Azriel kissed down your body, stopping at your hip bones to lick and suck marks on the sensitive spots. He pulled down your pants, underwear leaving with them, and groaned at the sight of how wet you’d gotten.

His big hands gripped your thighs, slowly spreading them apart, kissing up each side and stopping just before your core. You wiggled your hips, trying to get him to move closer. He took one finger and drug it up through your folds, bringing it to his mouth and sucking off the juices with a moan. You could’ve come undone at the sight.

Azriel spread your legs wider and dove in. Attaching his mouth to your aching pussy, licking and sucking like a man starved. Your back arched off the bed, hands shooting to his hair to pull him impossibly closer, eyes rolling back in your head.

He slid a finger inside you, curling and pumping it inside, hitting just the right spot that had you grinding down on his face, wanting more. He quickly inserted a second finger, nipping at your clit and making you see stars. Soon you were coming, grinding onto his mouth as his fingers pumped you through until your legs stopped shaking and you collapsed on the bed, breathing hard.

Azriel slunk up your body, planting a hungry kiss on your lips. You kissed him back with fervor, wrapping your legs around his waist and using your thighs to flip him over.

You sat up on top of him, admiring how sinfully beautiful he looked, eyes lidded with lust, full lips swollen, and wings splayed behind him.

You slid off of him, hands working to remove his pants. He lifted his hips and his cock finally sprang free. You practically salivated at the sight. Feeling no shame in how wet you got just by looking at him. He was big, thick and long, and pulsing with arousal, precum resting at the tip.

Azriel made to sit up and you gently pushed him down, sliding your body down until your mouth was poised above his cock. “It’s my turn to taste you.” You stared into his eyes as you wrapped your mouth around him, taking him in all the way to the back of your throat, gagging on the length of him. He let out a delightful moan as the tip hit the back of your throat, your hand wrapping around what wouldn’t fit inside you.

You began to move, sucking and stroking in time, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking as much of him as you could back down your throat. His hands flew to your hair, tugging at it as his hips began to thrust up into your mouth.

Your eyes were watering when he gently pulled you off, breathing heavy as you wiped the spit and precum from your mouth, licking your lips to get a taste of him. “I want to cum inside you.” He looked into your eyes before switching your positions.

Azriel lined himself up with your dripping sex, slowly pushing in, both of you moaning at the feeling. Your pussy stretched to accommodate every inch of his thick cock, filling you to the brim.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as he bottomed out, the tip of him hitting you in just the right way. You thought you’d been completely blissed out until he started moving, slowly at first and then quicker with each thrust, pushing into you hard enough to make the bed rock. Your nails raked at his shoulders as you moaned uncontrollably.

Azriel leaned down, mouth attaching to the spot between your neck and shoulder, biting and sucking enough to bruise. You lifted one hand up, lightly running your fingers along the edge of his wing. His hips stuttered and he growled into your shoulder.

In an instant he was pulling out of you, you didn’t even have time to whine at the lost contact before he flipped you over and slammed into you from behind.

You let out a scream as he grabbed your braid, wrapping it around his hand and pulling your head back as he relentlessly fucked into you. His other hand came around to rub your clit and you were thrown into a mind-blowing orgasm. You were shaking and crying as Azriel continued to fuck you.

Your pussy clenched around him and he came undone quickly after you, pumping his cum inside you before pulling out and collapsing on the bed next to you.

You both laid there for moment, staring at each other in shock and catching your breath.

“Wow.” Azriel breathed, looking at you like you were the most incredible thing he’d ever seen. You could only nod in agreement.

“Y/N…” he reached out, letting his hand fall to the open space between you, eyebrows furrowing.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You grabbed his hand, placing it on your cheek.

“Nothing could be wrong after that.” He laughed, “it’s just, I feel like I should let you know that as amazing as that was… I don’t want this to just be sex. I have… deeper feelings for you. And if you don’t feel the same that’s okay and I’ll respect your boundaries, but if sex is all this is to you I think we should stop here. It would be hard enough to keep myself away from you now, let alone if we do this again.”

You were stunned. Only this morning had you even let yourself think this male MIGHT be attracted to you, and here he was saying he had feelings for you? You felt like the luckiest female alive.

You smiled at him. “I have feelings for you too… I think we should see where this goes.” He grinned back and pulled you to his chest.

You lay there for a while, Azriel’s hand in your hair, the other wrapped around your waist as you listened to his heartbeat.

“So,” he began, the smirk evident in his voice, “did I cure your sexual frustration?”

You laughed, having completely forgotten about Ian and your crappy date. “I can honestly say I and 100% satisfied.”

——————————————————————————

Taglist: @chaoticpizzalawyerbiscuit @ruler-of-hades @cosmic-whispers @brekkershadowsinger @azriel-luvr @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @thesillyyogourt @a-little-disguised @hanasakr @morrie-rose @lahoete @orangecomfortfoods @safetypinxtales

@articulatecrow

[badbatch-badfics]

Thief (TBB x Male Reader) Part 1

Characters: TBB + Phee, but it's mainly you stealing from them for 90% of it

Relationship: Enemies

POV: 2nd (you/yours)

Pronouns: He/him. The horn pattern (as in thick or thin lines defining your sex) and the hair color are not mentioned, so it's trans-inclusive as far as Imps go lmfao. 

Species: Helluva Boss type Imp- imagined the Imps with digitigrade legs and claws for your legs, and I haven't watched Helluva in a whileeeee.  Like, at least a year or more.  Nothing about Hell is mentioned, so you're just another species, so to speak.  Also, you obviously have red skin.  But I occasionally put in a [shade] so it’s not totally limited and you can still be you (more or less). 

Content: You’re stealing shit??

Warnings: You stealing shit, Wrecker throws you, Hunter threatens you. Cringe lol

Word count: 2,588

You glanced around the pub, checking on the targets for what felt like the millionth time.  When will they get moving?  Your employer had sent you on a rather vague mission, ordering you to scrounge “anything that seemed of value,” and to “keep an eye out for a band of four adult men and one little girl.”  Unspecified by your employer, there was another member- an adult woman, a pirate, so it would seem.  Apparently, if you could lose the little misfit band and find their ship, it would hold wonders of great value- credit wise.  A war modified Omicron class attack shuttle, with more war supplies inside- enough for four men and a child- would be a complete jackpot.  And, Maker, were you thankful.  Even if you didn’t get the direct riches, the reputation and rank would more than suffice.

Obviously, any jackpot is rather risky, and you were not looking forward to it.  That much was evident by the swaying and twitching of your tail.  But, hey, if you could do it well, there would be an abundance of awards.  But before anyone could make a grab for anything, you needed to make sure they were far away from the ship- which would be far easier if your employers had provided some help.  But, to be fair, since when was anyone's employer ever fair?

Finally, the group got up and left- the young girl happily skipping along, talking about heading to the market to buy an assortment of small trinkets.  Perfect.  You waited a few minutes until they were certainly gone before heading up to the bar, credits in hand.  “So…” you began, “That group- the one with the big guy, droid guy, skull tattoo, googles, the pirate, and a little girl- you know who I mean?”  The Twi’lek bartender nodded his head, lekku slightly bobbing.

“Fantastic, now, for some extra credits, would you be so kind as to point me in their ship’s direction, and perhaps access to the lot…?”  That was certainly the most inconvenient part about the job- the ships’ 'parking’ spaces had fields around them, and you needed the key to get in.  Keys that only the ship’s owner and the bartender had access to.  The Twi’lek raised an eyebrow- unfortunately for you, he seemed to have decent morals.  At least, decent enough to question a rather suspicious looking stranger asking for access to someone else’s ship.  You sighed, and began to explain- “I’m not going to do anything harmful, it’s just a simple grab and retreat- you can watch me through the security cams, or even come with me!  I’m a thief, not a killer, or any other bad things.  Just a thief.  Which is pretty ironic sounding, I know.”  You flashed a smile, trying to appear more honest and trustworthy.  Not that you were lying, anyway.

The Twi’lek scrunched his eyes in contemplation, slowly rubbing one of the dirty glasses.  You were leaning forward, eyes wide, tail swishing in excitement.  Finally, he sighed, before turning to grab the keys to the Marauder.  You quickly slid the credits over, flashing an incredibly toothy grin.  “Remember I am watching you.  If anything happens other than some petty thievery- you won’t be making it out of here in one piece,” he warned, accusingly glaring while pointing the not-at-all threatening cleaning rag at you.

“Trust me, I won’t hurt anyone!  Except for their pockets, I suppose- ha!”  The Twi’lek sighed before explaining the directions to get there, and how to work with the keys.  He shortly returned to his work, as you happily bounded out before remembering to be discreet.  You ducked and swerved, squeezed into tight spaces, hopped over a few fences, and other tasks that were annoying, sure, but not difficult in any way.  Finally, the docking lot came into view, the Marauder in the center, taking up all the glory.  Before stepping into the port, you looked around, pulling down scanner goggles, easily locating all the cameras.  You had said that the bartender could watch you, so scrambling the cameras for the long-run was a no-go.  But, perhaps, you could manage to short them out for only a minute or two, or scramble all of them except the camera over your target.  Keep the promise, and all.

You fished around in your pockets and pouches, seeing what trinkets could be of help.  There must be some sort of protection against scrambling devices, if you could just… “HA!  Yes, this will do,” you whisper-shouted triumphantly, holding up a little stick on device you had crafted yourself, many rotations ago, just in case of a situation like this.  You smiled triumphantly, perhaps feeling too much pride given the circumstances.  You waited for the cameras to drift away before jumping up onto the fence, using your tail to help balance, before jumping up the wall.  Thankfully, whoever designed the lot wanted it to be pretty, considering the intricate carvings swirling here and there.  Unfortunately for the designer, though, anyone with enough claws and skill could use the indents to scale their way up or across the compound- and you had plenty of both.

Carefully, you made your way across until there was a large horizontal pole with a label for the row.  Angling yourself, you quickly leaped and grabbed the pole, swinging before bringing up your legs and balancing on it, one hand wrapped around, the other holding the small device.  Squinting your eyes and focusing, your arm drew back, everything carefully placed.  Then, with a quick motion, you threw the device, which immediately stuck to the camera observing the Marauder.  Grinning, you fished out the scrambling devices, and its remote.  One by one, you tossed the scramblers across the compound, surrounding the perimeter.  As soon as your [shade] red finger touched the button, electricity sparks flew and the cameras slumped down, utterly defeated.  It was almost too easy, which never happened.  There was always some bizarre twist- employers never gave the full story.  You’ll worry about that later.

You wrapped your tail around the pole repeatedly, before lunging down, hands extended to catch your fall.  Quickly bounding back up, you looked around once more before sprinting to the ship.  Looking over your shoulder every five seconds, you inserted the key and twisted it, bringing the field down with a triumphant smile.  You quickly scraped off the plate covering the wires to open the ramp, claws leaving dents.  Well, that’s inconvenient- now they’ll know someone was here- if they’re smart, anyway.  A problem for tomorrow.  Or the next hour, or whenever they show up- especially if the bartender would rat out the plan.  Maybe you shouldn't have compromised with him, promising to let him keep some view on you, ready to give information to the owners of the ship.  Yeah, you would definitely need to get off of this planet soon, especially since your appearance was… unique, to say the least- but it did help that your striped horns were covered, but the long red tail certainly didn't help.

You began hot-wiring the ramp cords, pulling and plugging and making electric connections from one to another, until a satisfying hiss escaped and the ramp began unfolding.  The lights in the ship activated, making the ramp look like some blessed trip to paradise, war equipment and Maker knows what else, all ripe for the taking.  You bounded up the ramp, tail swishing back and forth rapidly in excitement.  Your hand twisted up to grab the large sack from your back, opening it up and getting ready to completely loot the place.

Running back and forth through the ship, you collected bombs, blasters, bits of armor, rations, and what appeared to be someone’s… arms and legs- or, at least, spares.  There was one pair of legs, with a spare foot, and two different arm types- one resembling an actual arm, and the other one seemed to possess a number of tools.  They all looked like they were a work in progress, someone making upgrades to it all, perhaps making  different aspects specific to certain goals or terrain.  You hesitated, arm hovering out.  I mean, it would be pretty cruel to take someone's legs and arms…but the employer would be thrilled…  Sighing, you took the arm with the tools, and left all the other artificial limbs.

You continued forward, picking up a spare set of goggles and a data-pad left on one of the top bunks.  On the other side, one of the bunks held several vibro-knives, which you quickly grabbed.  Those were valuable, and there were no guilty feelings involved- win win.  For you, anyway.  Certainly not the group you were stealing from.  The bag feeling was heavy in your hands, so you figured it was time to bail.  There was enough stuff in here to last you forever- or rather, your employer.  Shame you couldn't just drop out, that the employer would hunt you down and then some.

You tightly sealed the bag, and slung it over your back before walking out to the ramp.  Before stepping out completely, you looked, listened, and smelled for any sign of life, or even some sort of droid under their command.  Nothing was noteworthy, so you put one clawed foot in front of the other as you descended the ramp, quickly un-doing the hot-wiring from before.  It certainly wasn’t a clean job, but you should be able to get out of there before anyone comes back.  Hopefully.

You quickly retraced your steps, until you were far away from the docking lot, and far away from any possibility of the group tracking you.  Again, hopefully.  You carefully made your way to your designated escape escort, being sure to check if anyone suspicious, especially the group you’d just looted, was close behind.  Finally, the view of the transport ship was in sight, the escort waiting, rather impatiently, a scowl on her face as her foot bounced about a ‘hundred miles an hour.  “Sorry I’m late,” you huffed out, lugging the bag into the ship.  “They took forever and then some to leave, and the bartender had better morals than the average- had to plead my innocence- well, my ‘I won’t harm anyone, just their pockets,’ type innocence.”  All she did was grunt back, clearly disinterested.  “Okay, whatever…” you mumbled, sheepishly looking for a place to sit.  Clearly she didn’t care why someone was late, only that they were.  Which was rather annoying, it’s not like them taking forever was your fault.

You quickly settled down into the seat, pulling a latch over yourself as a form of comfort.  Giant hunks of metal soaring through the empty and cold vacuum that was space, in which you would immediately die if suscepted to with no gear, was not your ideal method of transportation.  The ship shook as the engine powered on, the vibration only increasing as it lost contact with the solid ground.  Your hands flew to the sides on the restraint bar, gripping them as hard as possible.

Soon enough, after the ship had left the atmosphere, things calmed down- no more shaking or weird creaking.  Just silence.  It was unclear if noise, or the lack of, was creepier.  Oh well.  You slowly unlatched the bar, figuring that if the ship were to explode in the middle of space, it wouldn't matter if you were strapped in or otherwise.  Carefully standing up, using the wall as support, you began a miniature exploration expedition.  A very miniature one, considering it was just the room you were in and one to the left, the only ones which you had been granted access to.  You were tired, and perhaps the other room had a bed.  Or at least some blankets you could toss together and call a nest.

You opened the door, entering the access code, and much to your complete disappointment- it was empty.  Utterly, completely, so-very, empty.  A deep sigh escaped your lips, shoulders slumping in sync.  So much for that 10-step trip.  You sharply turned around, tail swishing in a mixture of annoyance and boredom.

Unfortunately, before you could make it two steps away, a rough hand grabbed the nape of your neck, hauling you upwards and turning you back to face the assaulter.  A sharp cry escaped, and you pulled your legs and tail into each other, trying to become a small ball hanging involuntarily by the giant mass of a man.  A man, you realized with horror, who was part of the group you had just looted.  That was bad.  You sheepishly raised one hand to wave, smiling in the most last-ditch effort to save your red hide.  Before you could get any pleas out, he roughly tossed you, twisted his own body for extra momentum.  You landed, hard, against the metal wall, black blood trailing down your nose.  A rough cough came out, followed by a copious amount of saliva.  Your hand reached up to wipe it off, the other one underneath you to provide some balance as you were down on knees, tail curling in front- a feeble attempt to look menacing.

Looking around, you took in the four adult men- but the adult woman and little girl were nowhere to be seen.  Made sense, considering the attire between the group.  The four men were dressed in armor, like soldiers, whereas the other two had general attire with a few handy trinkets or weapons.  I guess these four do the more ‘beat-up-people’ focused work…

“Nice surprise, right?” said the one with a half-and-half black and white helmet, a red stripe going down the middle.  “Didn’t expect us to know about your little plan, did ya?”  Half-and-half approached, unsheathing a vibro-knife.  That wasn’t good.  You scrambled up, backing into the wall, a desperate and toothy smile plastered on your face, despite the watering in your eyes.  The one with the goggles backed off, presumably to grab the loot.  That was extra not good.  “Was it the Twi’lek bartender?  Did he rat me out?” you asked, voice cracking, still holding that desperate smile.  Before you died, you at least wanted to know what went wrong that led to this, your ultimate demise in a, truthfully, not all that long career of crime.

Half-and-half bent down, and lifted your head up by the horns, holding the blade to your neck.  Your heart rate spiked, chest rising and falling far faster than any chest ever should.  “Technically, we got to him first.  Told him to let you loot us.  Told this ship’s pilot to do what we say.  And after we land, you’ll be taking us directly to your employer.  Got it?” he loathed, voice all the more terrifying under the helmet.  Your yellow eyes, scrunched and watering, reflected perfectly back in his visor, making the entire situation all the more real and terrifying.  You shakily nodded, agreeing in full.  “Good,” he spoke firmly, pulling the blade away from your neck and twirling it back into its sheath.  He dropped your horns, and you slumped backwards, a shaky breath exuding.

He stood up, signaling something to the other men, and they all began to turn around and walk out.  You cautiously opened your eyes, only to be met with everyone leaving- you quickly scrambled, and attempted to tell them to wait, but it was to no avail- Goggles was already losing the door.  An echo sounded through the room, leaving you alone, your eyes comically glowing administ the pitch black, ragged breathing filling the room.  This was so, very, not good.

[an1meslvt]

|lets get high baby|

tag: stoner!shuri x blackfemreader

warnings: weed, smut (18+), thigh riding, semi exhibitionism (semi public sex), childhood friends to lovers trope, fluff at the end:)

translation: xhosa: ndiyakuthanda nam sana-i’m in love with you baby, sthandwa-my love, ndiyaphila baby- i’m cumming baby

summary: you and shuri get high, she confesses her feelings for you:)

“yo y/n! you smoke?” shuri asked, puffing on a freshly lit blunt. you shrugged as you laid on her shoulder. “sometimes, but i don’t do it a lot.” shuri looked down at you, putting her arm around your waist. “you should start smoking with me…it could be our bonding time.” she smiled at you, causing you to smile back. “come on mami, get high with me.”

𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷

you and shuri sat in her ‘weed garden’ high as hell and having a good time. “you having a fucking weed garden is insane.” you laughed. she playfully hit your shoulder. “i’m the fucking queen of wakanda! i can have whatever i want!” she said loudly, smiling down at you for the millionth time. she licked her lips before speaking again. “but there’s one thing that i want…but i can’t seem to have.” you looked at her confused as hell. “what do you mean?” you asked. she sighed before speaking.

“y/n, how long have we been friends.” you paused for a moment. “ever since i moved here with mom and dad…for the job opportunities here.” shuri nodded. “and you remember when you used to go back to the states to visit family? i would cry all day long. and when i finally developed griot, i could holograph you, so i wasn’t as sad.” you nodded, trying to see where she was going with this.

“y/n! it’s so fucking obvious!” shuri yelled. you looked up at her, very confused. she sighed before grabbing your your neck softly. “y/n, sthandwa, ndiyakuthanda nam sana.” living in wakanda (on and off) you’ve learned most of the language, but you could not believe what the hell you were hearing. “sh-shuri? you’re in love with me?” she nodded, looking deep into your eyes. “and i know you’re in love with me too, y/n. it’s kinda obvious.” you looked at her with dismay.

“shuri udaku! you mean to tell me all these years i’ve been crying to myself because i thought you would never love me but you actually did? AND DIDNT TELL ME?” shuri smiled. you were so cute when you were mad.

“easy there, usana. i was sliding down the wall and crying too! don’t feel special.” she smirked, causing you to push her playfully. “soooo, we’re a thing now?” you asked, causing shuri to deadpan at you. “duhhh y/n, you’re my girl now.” you smiled at her, causing her to smile back. she licked her lips, looking down at yours.

“shuri…can i kiss you?” you asked breathlessly. shuri’s chest heaved in excitement. “yes sthandwa, kiss me usana.” you finally connected your lips to hers, your tongues instantly locking with eachother. you felt her tap your thigh, signaling you to sit in her lap. “fuck, usana. ride my thigh.” she groaned as you began to grind against her.

you moaned slightly as you rode her thigh. you felt her hand grab the back of her neck, kissing you deeper. “shuri! i’m about to cum!” you wailed as she guided your hips faster. “that’s it sthandwa, cum on my thigh. make a mess for your queen.”

and god did you make a mess. the thin shorts you were wearing were now sticky with your release, also leaving a puddle on shuri’s bare thigh.“you’re so wet usana.” shuri groaned, rubbing you through your shorts. “please fuck me shuri…i’ve waited so long.”

𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷

“ughn fuck shuri!” you yelled, your face smothered in her pillows. shuri had you in ass up face down, a belt tied around your neck and your hands tied up behind your back. she was drilling your shit, making you feel every inch of her strap. “yea? you like that? does my little slut like having her pussy pounded?” shuri teased as she picked up the pace.

“fuck daddyyy, don’t stop!” shuri smirked as she listened to your pleas for her to make you cum. she slapped your ass, making you cream all over the strap. “fuck baby! i’m gonna squirt.” your eyes rolled back to your head as shuri used the belt to pull you up to her chest.

“do it sthandwa. cum all over this dick. i want my sheets wet after this.” she panted in your ear as she reached her own high. “oh my-fuck!” you came everywhere and so did she. “ndiyaphila baby!” she yelled, her wetness dripping down her thighs.

she pulled out and collapsed next to you. “fuck y/n. you brought it out of me.” she chuckled breathlessly. you smiled weakly. “yea well i didn’t know you were into that kinda stuff.” she smirked, taking off your restraints. “everyone has their quirks. anyways, i’m gonna run you a bath, and then i’ll change the sheets. i love you usana” she kissed you sweetly before going into the connected bathroom. “i love you too shuri.” you mumbled.

𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷

©️an1meslvt

author: y’all i love this so much! thank you to the lovely anon who sent this! make sure to send more requests! 💕🫶🏾

[themetaphorgirl]

Omg hiiiiii I’m so glad you’re back! I hope you had a fabulous wedding and honeymoon!! Your latest psolc chapter was *chefs kiss*. I reread the whole thing again for the millionth time and I kept getting this scene in my head of the kids in the future. Like they all meet for thanksgiving or they’re all back for the summer and no one’s seen anyone for a few months and like 18/19 year old Spencer just casually strolls in like he isn’t suddenly 6’1 and is the tallest instead of the shortest. Everyone’s just like where did this beanpole come from? Kinda the same vibe as when he cuts his hair in season 5 in the show and just walks in and everyone is like are we gonna talk about this😂 anywaysss I’m excited to read more❤️❤️

this is SO cute and I'm emotional about Spencer being all grown up.

----------

Emily opened the front door with her hip. “What’s up, bitches?” she hollered. “I’m here, and I brought presents!”

The townhouse was warm and noisy, filled with chattering conversation and Christmas music playing on the speaker. Penelope jumped up from the couch, nearly bonking JJ in the nose, and ran over to her. “Emily, oh my god!” she said, flinging her arms around her. “Oh my god, I didn’t think you were getting in until tomorrow!”

“Yeah, me neither, but it turns out when you work for the Czech ambassador and the French ambassador owes you a favor, they can pull a few strings,” Emily laughed. “Oh my god, look at you. Somehow you look exactly the same and yet you’re completely different.”

“That’s what happens when you get older but retain your youthful aesthetic,” Penelope said. “Ooh, you brought wine? I can take care of that.”

“It’s weird to think we’re old enough to drink wine now,” JJ said. She had changed more than Penelope had, her face slimmer and her blonde hair cut in a chic long bob.

“Speak for yourself,” Dave snorted.

Emily snickered. “Nice mustache, Rossi,” she said. He scowled, stroking it self-consciously.

“We’re just waiting for Aaron and Haley now,” JJ said. 

“Derek can’t make it, he’s got a football game tomorrow, but we’re going to set up a zoom call,” Penelope said.

Emily looked around the cozy living room. The Christmas tree glimmered with warm white lights, making the ornaments sparkle, and three stockings were hung up on a bookshelf in lieu of a mantel. “Where’s Alex?” she asked.

“Kitchen with James, they’re finishing up dinner and they’re refusing to let us help,” Dave said.

Emily hurried down the hall. “Where’s the bride?” she hollered.

Alex started, nearly dropping the spoon she was holding. “Emily, what the fuck?” she said, but her eyes lit up. “Oh my god, you’re here early!”

“Show me the ring, show me the ring!” Emily said, beckoning. Alex held out her left hand, her cheeks turning pink. “Good goddamn, Blake, you did good.”

“I’ve had that ring in the back of my mind for years,” James said, beaming proudly. “I thought she would like it.”

Emily held Alex’s hand in hers, turning this way and that to get a good look at her sparkling engagement ring. “You like it, right, Alex?” she said. “Because if you don’t, I will march James to the nearest jewelry store to piuck out something you do.”

“No, no, I love it,” Alex said. James kissed her lightly as he walked past her. “How was your flight?”

“Long, but bearable in first class,” Emily said. 

“Well, you got here just in time for dinner,” Alex said. “Perfect timing.”

A tall young man with tousled light brown hair stuck his head in the kitchen, sliding in his socks. “James, where’s the stereo remote?” he asked.

“Should be on the end table,” James said.

“Oh, perfect, thanks,” the stranger said, darting back out.

Emily frowned. “I thought it was just going to be us this Christmas,” she said. “A good ol’ St. Thaddeus reunion.”

“It is,” Alex said, wiping her hand on a dishtowel.

Emily glanced back over her shoulder. “Then who the hell was that?” she said. 

Alex and James both looked up. “Do you not…oh my god,” Alex said.

“Well, he has changed quite a bit,” James said.

“Guys, who is that?” Emily asked.

James grinned. “Hey Spencer?” he called. “Can you come in here, please?”

Emily’s jaw dropped. “No,” she said. “Oh hell no. You two are shitting me.”

The tall boy, probably in his mid to late teens, ran back in. “What’s wrong?” he asked. He noticed Emily and his hazel eyes lit up. “Emily! When did you get here?”

Emily covered her mouth and doubled over. “I am hallucinating,” she said. “You cannot…that’s not…” She straightened up and peeked through her fingers. “Spencer?”

He smiled, and now she could recognize the little nine-year-old in this grown up boy’s face. “Hi!” he said. “My growth spurts finally hit.”

Alex patted his cheek. “My baby isn’t a baby anymore,” she sighed.

“Holy shit,” Emily said. “Your voice changed. And you’re a giant.”

“I’m almost as tall as Aaron and James now,” Spencer said proudly.

“Don’t let him fool you, he still sleeps with his blanket,” James said. 

[theratboyking]

Nocturnal Me (Part 2 to Forever Yours)

Pairing: Papa Emeritus ii/Reader, Vampire!Secondo/Reader

Word count: 4.5K

Summary: Secondo was convinced that the only sanctuary he would ever know was in your embrace. The only grace he would be allowed in this world was with you. He could spend hours here, silently praying to the temple that is your body, hands exploring every nook and cranny, every perfect imperfection he could find. He relished in it, took pride in every shutter, every moan he could manage to get out of you.

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Like seriously MDI, violence, Blood, Fluff, LIke major Fluff, sub!reader, dom!Secondo, PnV, Possesive!Secondo, Death

Master list Part One Ao3 Link

“You’re a devil.” The melody of your laugh reaches Secondo’s ears, only spurring his attack on your neck even further. The feather-like kisses tickling you only draw out more of the song. It was a sound Secondo had decided he would never get tired of.

Biting down slightly, sure to leave a mark in its wake, a moan escapes you. You could feel the smug bastard smirk around you from the reaction he was garnering, “I think you love it, La mia stella.”

He pulled away slightly, his mismatched gaze snapped up to look at your face. The milky light of the moon bathed the room in a soft glow. Casting shadows along your face, framing you in such a way that Secondo was almost convinced he had dreamed you. In the months since that fateful night, he had found himself caught in your embrace ever since. He found himself clinging to it like a man lost at sea.

In his many lifetimes, he doesn’t think he had ever been in love. Sure, he has had his share of lovers–a string of broken hearts he has left behind, but none of them compared to you. You had managed to find your way into his cold heart, lifting a weight off of him he had carried for hundreds of years. Secondo almost couldn’t recognize the man he had turned into.

Hell, even his brothers noticed. You had turned him into a sap, as Terzo had so graciously told him one night, Primo chiming in to say how it looked good on him. Copia was the only one to come to his defense, but even he had said how he wore it well. Despite all the teasing, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

He thanked Satan himself for giving him you, his lips once again connecting against yours for what would be the millionth time that night—slowly making his way back down to your neck, determined to get more of the sweet melody out of you. He couldn’t help himself. You simply demand his attention. Letting out a soft chuckle as you weakly protest.

“I’m sleepy, love.” You mumbled, letting out a small moan as his sharp canines brushed against your windpipe. 

“Too tired for me, amore?” He questions, pulling himself from your neck to look into your eyes, “Are you already ready to send me away for the night?” He teases, already knowing the answer. 

 You softly laughed, “How could I ever send you away? If it were up to me, I would keep you forever.” A sigh escaped you as you longingly smiled down at him. He pulled away from you, his eyes practically glowing in the dark room as he stared down at you.

It was quiet for a long moment, your love looking deep in thought. Secondo couldn’t say he hadn’t thought about it. He’s been thinking about it since the first night he found himself in your embrace. The idea of losing you had plagued his mind since that attack. Forever was a long time, but if it's with you, he couldn’t help but long for it.

Just before you could question what was wrong, before Secondo could stop himself, he whispered, “What if you could?”

The question hung heavy in the air. For the first time in a long while, Secondo was scared. What if you said no? But then again, what if you said yes? The rejection scared him, yes, but the fear that you would come to hate him for cursing you with this life scared him even more. Although losing you to the hands of time scared him most of all, it tore him up inside. He looked down at you, eyes wide, and despite his better judgment, held hope behind them.

You stared up at him, a look of shock and uncertainty clouding your features. “What do you mean?”

Swallowing what little saliva was in his mouth, he decided to continue. “You could have it if you want it.” He looked down at you, drawing you closer into his grasp, scared that you would vanish if he let go, “If you asked it of me, I would give you forever.” Despite his fear, there was a touch of hope behind his offer.

You look up at him, the weight of his offer heavy on your mind. It’s not like you would be leaving much behind. You wouldn’t be leaving behind any family; most of them were either dead or had no contact with you. The friends you did have would probably not even notice you were gone. The only thing you had going for you was your job at the station, but even that was starting to run its course.

You had daydreamed about this conversation a million times by now but never really let it past more than that. Sure, you had imagined what a life with him would be like, to find yourself safe in his embrace for the rest of your days. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, scared to get your heart broken. Thinking that, at some point, the love you both had for each other would eventually end.  But here he was offering it to you. Offering you eternity, you could feel your heart swell with more love for the man before you, if that was even possible.

Doubt started to cross Secondo’s mind, and he looked away from you. He was asking too much of you. “I’m sorry, forget I said anyt-...”

“Yes.” You cut him off, no hesitation behind your answer.

“Amore, are you certi-…”

“Yes.” You repeated yourself, more forceful this time. “Of course, silly.” You let out an airy laugh.

He looked at you in wonder, something he could not quite place swelling in his chest. “Forever is a long time, La mia stella.” He whispered, a smile starting to form on his face, one that he only seemed to reserve for you.

“But it’s forever with you.” You caress his face, looking back at him with conviction, trying to convey everything you couldn't find the words to say.

He searched your eyes, looking for any sign of hesitation. He was only met with what he could only describe as love and adoration. He was sure that if his heart could beat, it would have skipped a beat. The distance between you both closes as his lips reach yours once more. Getting lost in each other.

Pulling away, you rest your head on his, trying to catch your breath. He was smiling more than he had in years; it was silently saved for you. Secondo could hear your heart rapidly beating. You didn’t need to say anything, neither did he. There was an understanding between both of you.

“You’re going to have to tell your brothers, my love.” You whisper, letting out a small chuckle.

“I’m sure they’ll be happy about it. They already consider you a part of the family.” 

“Let me rephrase; you’ll have to tell Terzo.”

You feel him tense under you as he lets out a groan. “We could just run away, amore.”

“With you, I would go anywhere.” You pause, “I’m going to have to quit my job, aren’t I?”

“Afraid so.” He looks away for a moment. “There are many things that will have to change, but I will be with you every step of the way.”

“Promise me something?” You bring your hand to his face.

Relaxing into your palm, he returns his gaze to you, “Of course.”

“Promise you will not leave my side.”

His eyes soften then, a small smile making its way to his face, “I have lived many lifetimes, amore mia. I have seen entire empires rise and fall before my very eyes. I have never been really sure of anything, but I do know one thing for sure.  I love you more than the sun loves the moon, more than a bird loves the sky. For as long as you will have me, for as long as you will allow me by your side, that is where I will stay.”

There were tears forming in your eyes. This was the first time he had actually said he loved you. It was always implied in his actions; he never really had to say it, but now that he had, it was almost impossible to keep your emotions at bay. “I love you too.” He pulled you closer in his arms, holding you like you were the most precious treasure in the world. In his arms, you couldn’t help but feel like you were.

 The rest of the night and most of the early morning was spent between two lovers making plans for the future. What to expect, what you would have to do. To say you weren’t scared would be a lie. The whole thing was terrifying, but you were doing it with him. As long as you were in his arms, you could face whatever the world threw at you. Together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You both had decided on a night in June. That would be the day you would end your mortal life in turn for an immortal one. The date couldn’t seem to come fast enough. You missed him, if you were being honest. Your love has been busy getting everything ready for your arrival. To be honest, you were no better, also busy trying to get everything sorted out before you embarked on your immortal life. You had all your affairs in order, had quit your job, and resigned from classes. As far as your friends were aware, you were moving away. Most of your things had either been sold or put into boxes awaiting transfer to Secondo’s place, and the lease on your apartment ended that Monday.

The plan was simple, really. You would meet Secondo at your former apartment. From there, you would go to his place. After you were somewhat settled in, you would begin your immortal life with Secondo by your side.

To say you weren’t at least a little nervous would be an understatement, but there was still excitement behind it. The walk home from your last show was filled with silence. You were positive that whatever went bump in the night could probably hear your heart hammering in your chest. The building seemed to blur together as you hastily made your way back to your former home, excited to finally be reunited with your lover.

As you rounded the corner that led to your apartment, you couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face as you noticed the prominent, shadowy figure standing in front of your doorway. Picking up your pace, you hastily make your way towards him. He looked as if he was dressed up for the occasion. A smile made its way to Secondo’s face when he noticed your presence.

“Are you ready, amore mia?” He questioned, reaching out his hand for you to take.

Nodding your head, taking his hand. “Lead the way, lover boy.” you teased.

The walk to his place was relatively calm, small talk between you both taking up most of the time. Secondo seemed just as excited as you were; he just did better at hiding it. The only thing that gave him away was the small smile that didn’t seem to want to leave his face. The further away from your old apartment you got, the more your excitement grew.

This would be the first time you have ever been to his apartment before. Usually, you and he would spend time at your place, or he would usually sneak into the station and keep you company while you worked. You couldn’t help but let your imagination run wild. Especially as the buildings slowly turned into the more upscale part of town.

Suddenly he stopped, turning into a rather large modern-looking building. You let out a small gasp as you took in the lobby; everything was upscale, a total far cry from what your old building looked like.

“Mr. Emeritus.” The man at the desk tipped his hat toward Secondo as you both passed.

Finally reaching the elevator, you watch as he clicks the button to the top floor– punching in a code finally sends the machine upwards. You held your breath, taking it all in. Despite everything that had happened in the past months, you couldn't help but feel like you were dreaming.

The elevator opened, revealing what you could only assume was his apartment. Ok, maybe you really were dreaming. The room was dark when you entered. Black-out curtains were hung, keeping even the moonlight out. His place was just how you expected it to be. High ceilings and wooden floors only served to cause an echo as you and Secondo walked in. The room was decorated in dark wood with accents of emerald green thrown in. Everything about the room screamed Secondo.

He paused in the doorway, observing you as you took in his living room, “What do you think?”

“I’m not exactly sure what I was expecting from you.” you let out a laugh, “But I believe you have been keeping secrets from me, my love.”

“Whatever could you mean, amore?” He teases, rushing to your side, picking you up bridal style. 

It was hard to make out much else as he carried you off to what you could only assume could be his bedroom. Your laughter mixes together, bouncing off the walls to create a melody that has never been heard before in the flat. He only placed you down when he reached a door at the end of the hall, opening it and allowing you entry.

His bedroom was just as extravagant as the rest of his house. The curtains were drawn, allowing for some light to be cast in. A fireplace sitting on the far wall that looked like a balcony, a small fire crackling with life. A large four-post bed sat in the middle of the room, and a canopy wrapped around shielding the inside–the sheets were a deep emerald color. The whole room screamed luxury.

Taking in the room around you, mouth agape in wonder, you didn’t notice Secondo coming up behind you, pulling you into his chest. Turning you so that you were facing him,  “Are you ready?” He questioned, a reassuring smile gracing his features.

A wave of emotions hits you all at once. It was time. You were going to be giving up your current life for one with him. To say you weren’t a little scared would be a flat-out lie. You were nervous beyond belief, not of giving up your mortal life for an immortal one but rather the process of it. From what you were told, it wasn’t exactly painless…

When you didn’t answer at first, Secondo pulled away slightly, “What’s wrong, mia amata?”

“Nothing is wrong, my love.” You had a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Secondo sighs, taking you into his arms. His grip on you was tight but offered you some sort of comfort. “If you’ve changed your mind, that’s also ok. You’re still more than welcome to move in, and I’ll stay by your side as long as yo-…”

You cut off his rambling, quick to reassure him. “No, no, nothing like that, my love. I’m just nervous, is all. I can’t imagine that this won’t hurt.” You whisper the last part, looking away. 

 “I can’t say it will be pleasant, but I promise to make this as painless as possible.” He looked down at you. Bringing your face so that you were looking at him, his eyes piercing into yours, trying to convey to you that he meant every word he was saying.

“I trust you, Matteo,” You whisper, caressing his face.

Relaxing into your touch, “We can go slow, luce stellare.”

“Just kiss me, please.” You pled with him.

He didn’t need much convincing, closing the distance between you both. Swallowing your small body within his much larger one. The kiss was slow– as much as he trusted you, Secondo couldn’t help but fear that you would change your mind at any given moment. The kiss wasn’t just trying to calm you down but also him.

Deep down, he knew you wouldn’t. He knew you were his for the rest of his eternal life.  Slowly, it started to get more intense, more needy. Guiding you backward til you felt yourself collide with the foot of the bed. Secondo catches you, slowly pushing you down onto the bed. You fall back with a soft umh. You looked up at him. Your hands fly up to pull him to you, lips searching for his in the room's darkness. Your hands find themselves at the base of his shirt, pulling it up. Trying your best to undo the buttons before finally throwing it somewhere in the room.

Yours wasn’t far behind, bra coming undone at an inhuman speed, ripping it from your body in a mess of fabric, “Hey!” you protest, “I liked that one.”

Looking down at you, Secondo couldn’t help but pause–taking you in as if it were the first time. Your eyes were blown wide with lust and love. Chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath. You truly were breathtaking; you made his heart stop every time you allowed him to have you. He couldn’t believe that he got to call you his.

“I’ll get you another one, amore.” His eyes practically glowed as he looked down at you with nothing but love and a hint of mischief. 

 Slowing down, he found his way to your neck. Kissing and biting at your sweet spot, enjoying every sound he could get out of you. Making his way down your body, taking one of your breasts into his mouth, his sharp fangs threatening to break the skin. Letting out a whine, you could feel him form a smirk.

 He knew your body like the back of his hand, knew the exact spots to get you to be absolute putty in his hands. He would take his time tonight, savor everything he possibly could. You had offered him a gift he would never be able to repay, but he would spend the rest of his immortal life trying to repay you for it. He would worship every inch of you, hoping he could convey to you just how much he loved you.

He let out a satisfied hum as he finally reached his destination. Slowly pulling your panties down your legs, exposing you to him. Secondo looks up at you, watching you wither underneath him. Watching as your chest rises and falls, your heartbeat picking up from the anticipation.

“Please. Need you,” You whine, desperate for some sort of release. Finally, he took pity on you, mouth enclosing around your sex. Savoring the sweet cry you let out, enjoying the taste of you. There was nothing quite like you, he was convinced. Letting out a groan of his own.

Your legs were wrapped around his head, keeping him in place. If he needed oxygen, you were convinced he would have suffocated by now. He worked his tongue over the bundle of nerves, sliding his hand down your body until he found your entrance. Groaning as he felt how wet you were, two of his fingers gliding into you with ease, setting a steady pace.

Secondo was convinced that the only sanctuary he would ever know was in your embrace. The only grace he would be allowed in this world was with you. He could spend hours here, silently praying to the temple that is your body, hands exploring every nook and cranny, every perfect imperfection he could find. He relished in it, took pride in every shutter, every moan he could manage to get out of you.

Curling his fingers, he finally reached the spot that would make you see stars, “Fuck” a drawn-out cry leaves you.

You could feel the familiar coil forming in your stomach. You were close, and he knew it. He was doing everything in his power to get you to that point. He knew just what to do, just how to curl his fingers, just how to move his tongue. He knew just what to do to make you see stars and fuck if he wasn't exceptional at it. 

“Cum for me, cara.” He growls, sending vibrations down your spine. Pushing you over the edge.

Letting out a satisfied hum, he finally moves from his spot with a pop. Making his way back up your body, kissing your exposed skin. Finally reaching his mark on your lips, capturing you in a long, heated kiss. His tongue finds dominance over your own. You could taste yourself on his breath, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. The friction on his pants over your naked flesh causes you to shutter. Your hands reach for his belt, fumbling to get his pants off of him. He pulled away from you, only enough to rid himself of the fabrics. His cock springs to attention, hitting his abdomen. Secondo finds his way back to your lips, rutting against you.

 “Are you ready, tesoro?” Secondo asks, sliding his cock over your folds, coating himself in your juices. Hitting your overstimulated clit a couple of times for good measure.

“No more teasing.” You plead, “Need you.”

“Making demands, are we?” he tuts, an evil smile forming, pushing the tip at your entrance. “Who am I to deny anything that la mia principessa wants.”

With that, he slammed into you. Crying out, mouth hung wide open, eyes rolling back in your head. Secondo looked down at you, his eyes practically glowing, taking you in. Giving you a moment to adjust to his size. This was a sight he never got tired of, seeing you cock drunk and wanting more. He couldn’t want to no longer need to hold back, to give you everything he had. Slowly, he pulled out before plugging back in, setting a steady pace.

He simply adores seeing you like this. The way your mouth hung open as needy whines left your sweet lips. The way your tits bounce oh so delicately as he pistons into you. The pleasant burn of your nails clawing at his back as you hold on for dear life. You grip onto him like he is the only thing in the world keeping you from floating away.

He brings one of his arms from caging you in favor of playing with your tits. Pinching and pulling at your nipples. The other he brings to your hips, pulling you forward to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck.” Your voice trembled as he hit just the right spot.

“Just like that, cara mia. So good.” It was a low rumble in his chest, “Always so good for me.”   He was picking up speed, driving his point home. He brings his hand forward, closing around your throat.

He growls as you tighten around him. You were close and he could tell. It only served to spur him on, determined to get you to cum again, to make you forget all your worries, just to focus on the pleasure that only he could bring you. You belonged with him; his heart was yours and would be forever more.

“Who do you belong to?” His grip on you tightened

“I’m yours, S-secondo. Fuck.”

“That’s right, and after tonight, you’ll be mine forever.” He growled, slowing his thrust ever so slightly, “You want that, don't you, Amore mia?”

All you could do was nod your head, so close to falling over the edge.

“Words, amore, I need your words,” Secondo commanded.

“Yes, my heart is yours, my love.”

“Good girl.” His motions were starting to stutter. “I’m close stella. I can feel you are as well. Cum for me, please, cum all over my cock.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, cumming with a shout, holding him in a vice grip. Secondo was not far behind you, giving a few more powerful thrusts before spilling his load out inside you. He stayed like that for a long moment, allowing you to catch your breath. The only sound that filled the room was labored breathing. Secondo only looked on, watching you, his emotions hitting a high, and he knew he could no longer wait.

“Stella, I need you to tell me this is what you want.” Secondo pants, shuttering from the feeling of you wrapped around his cock. “This is what you want, SÌ?”

“Yes,” You whisper, “I’m ready, my love.”

With a growl, he pulled out–teeth lodging themselves in your neck. He showed little restain as he lapped up your sweetness. Letting out a gasp, you could feel the life leaving you as he drank from you. Your limbs going lip and your eyes going heavy. You didn’t even feel him pull away.

“Drink.” He commanded, bringing his exposed wrist to your lips.

With the little life you had left, hesitating, you drink from him. The warm liquid dripping down your throat tasted of iron at first; slowly, it came to life, dancing across your taste buds, becoming the sweetest thing you have ever tasted in your life. You could feel your strength coming back to you. Gripping onto him like he was your lifeline.

  “Amore, slow down.” He breathes out, a grimace making its way onto his face, “Amore, stop.” Your grip on him only tightened, “Enough.” He breaks free.

From your place on the bed, you convolve. You expected the pain; in fact, that was the first thing he warned you about, but this was excruciating. It felt as if every cell in your body was combusting into flame. You were dying and being reborn all at once. You almost could comprehend it. Letting out a scream, all Secondo could do was sit there helplessly as the transformation overtook him.

Suddenly, you stopped all movement; Secondo could do nothing but look on. Worry started to overtake him. What if it didn't take? What would he do without you if it didn't work?

“Amore?” Worry was evident in his voice as he could do nothing but look at your lifeless form, only relaxing slightly as your eyes flew open with a gasp.

Slowly, you sit up, letting out a groan as you look around. The whole room was impossibly bright; everything was loud. Everything was too much. It was hard to focus on much of anything except the burning need to feed that was developing in you. There was a burning feeling in your stomach. You were hungry. More hungry than you had ever been in your life.

Turning your head so that you were facing your love, “I want some more.” You flash him a smile, your newly formed fangs on full display.

A fond smile makes its way to his face as he reaches out his hand for you to take, “That I can help with, amora mia”

Looking at him for a moment, you blink, focusing in on him. Your smile only widens.

You take his hand.

Translations:

La mia stella- My star

Amore- Love

luce stellare- Starlight

Tesoro- Treasure

la mia principessa- My princess

Stella- Star

mia amata- my beloved

[cookstorys]

𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚏

_____________

Character- Finney

Show/Movie- The Black Phone

Warning- Happy ending

Author Note - This has been in my drafts for MONTHS, rushed towards the end 🤭

Females dni

_____________

Hell. That’s how you’ll describe the time you’ve had to wait for Finny since his kidnapping. It’s all your fault, you told yourself. He was on his way to your house for a study date at the time. Finny was always the smart one out of you two, which is probably why you balanced each other out so much.

There was a loud knock on your door. You chose to ignore it since it was probably your parents checking in on you again. However, that theory was quickly debunked when you heard the voice of your boyfriend’s sister. “I need your help right now.” She stated as she knocked on the door again. ‘What is she doing here?’ You thought as you jumped from your bed. “Thank you so mu- dear god you look like shit.” She said bluntly but quickly covered her mouth.

You let out a laugh in return for her outburst. You have to admit she wasn’t wrong. You and your room did very much look like shit. You hadn’t cleaned your room since he got kidnapped, nor have you left the bed. You had to also admit however, it felt nice to laugh after being in a depressed state for so long. That laugh slowed to a stop when you remembered the question you had asked yourself earlier. “So, what are you here for?” Seeing Gwen after so long did bring back some wanted and unwanted (mostly wanted luckily) memories.

“I’m going to find Finney. I've been having these... dreams. That I think might lead us to him.” She said standing as if she was scared to hear the next sentence that would come out of the older boy’s mouth. You almost started laughing until you saw her stone-cold face. “Oh.” That was all you could say. You didn’t know how to feel about this. One side of you wanted to tell her she was stupid and too young to understand any of this but the other side wanted to hug her and believe all of it.

“I know I sound crazy and you have the right to not come along. I just need to know that I don’t regret listening to these dreams 20 years from now with a dead brother.” She cried. This was stupid. This was all stupid. However, you owe this to her, to Finn.

_________Time Skip_________

“This one?” You asked for the millionth time, and Gwen just rolled her eyes. “Like I said n- Stop!” She yelled practically jumping out of the moving car. When you came to a complete stop, parked the car, and locked it, then followed after Gwen.

“Gwen, are you sure this is the house? Let’s just go back. I’m already going to be in major trouble for stealing my dad's car.” You rambled. Gwen wasn’t listening she could’ve sworn this was the house or was it- bingo! She ran across the street with [name] on her heels. “Gwen stop this is..” You stopped. Gwen looked behind her to see what you were looking at and stopped also. There he was in the flesh. Gwen was the first to run and hug him. You were still in denial of it all but when you finally did snap back into it. You hugged the living crap out of him. He sniffled into your shoulders and held you tighter.

“I’m here and I’m never leaving again.”

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Wednesday, May 29

BUFFY: I'm going to the crime scene to see what I can find out. (she stands) You guys research the Polgara demon. I want to know where it is. When I find it, I'm going to make him pay for taking that kid's life, I'll make him die in ways he can't even imagine... that probably would have sounded more commanding if I wasn't wearing my yummy sushi pajamas.

~~BtVS 4x14 “Goodbye Iowa”~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Unwelcome (Buffy, Joyce, Pat, PG) by badly_knitted

MedWhump May 2024 Day 28: Head Injury (Rupert/Maggie Walsh, G) by MadeInGold

i apologize if it’s a little too much just a little too soon (Willow/Tara, G) by howtowords

In the night (Fred/Spike, E) by Kittenwritings

Blondes prefer nobodies (Fanged Four, M) by MsRosaliehaleswife

Second Rule of Book Club (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by Girlytek

Buffy's Journey Back From Hell (Buffy, not rated) by ILLYRIAN

[Chaptered Fiction]

Scrambled, Chapters 1-3/? (The Trio, Ensemble, M) by mabus101

Twin Verse, Chapters 1-4/4 COMPLETE! (Xander, OC, multiple xover, M) by JadeWine

Where goes the Heart?, Chapter 2/? (Ensemble, multiple Marvel xover, T) by skhwriter

The Slayer Key, Chapter 3/? (Spike, Dawn, ensemble, OC, T) by magicalenergykey

[Ukrainian language] Forward to Time Past//Вперед у час минулий, Chapter 44/67 (Buffy/Spike, E) translation by Uraniya

Infinitely, Chapter 54/? (Willow/Tara, M) by Laragh

Ever After After The Fall, Chapter 15/30 (Buffy/Angel, M) by aboutafox

[French language] Recommencer, Chapter 14 (Buffy/Faith, M) by Friday Queen

[French language] Do as Romans do, Chapter 30 (Dawn/Spike, T) by OldGirl-NoraArlani

Willow's are a symbol of rebirth, Chapter 4 (Willow/Spike, M) by Letmeguessit'sbeentaken

A Ripple In Time, Chapter 40 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by CheekyKitten

Deliverance From Destiny, Chapter 16 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Ragini

Love Bites But So Do I, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by CheekyKitten

Early One Morning, Chapter 49 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by all choseny

Love Lives Here, Chapter 69 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Passion4Spike

Secret Obsession, Chapter 30 COMPLETE! (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Maxine Eden

Dawn Rising, Chapter 65 (Buffy, LOTR xover, T) by Luna

Stomping on butterflies, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, 18+) by Blackoberst

To All We Guard, Chapter 14 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by simmony

Dear Journal , Chapter 4 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by Desicat

Early One Morning, Chapter 49 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by all choseny

Love Lives Here, Chapter 69 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Passion4Spike

Secret Obsession, Chapters 27-30 COMPLETE! (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Maxine Eden

[Images, Audio & Video]

Gifset: faith lehane + red (worksafe) by sonnywithachanceofrollins

Artwork: My favourite Buffy characters (in no specific order) (worksafe) by awinterrosesstuff

Video: buffy summers | i can do it with a broken heart (Buffy/Angel) by lostlcve

Manip: Skin Clean Thoughts Obscene (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Claire

[Reviews & Recaps]

PODCAST: HELLMOUTH HOMOS: New Moon Rising by Fear Queers

PODCAST: Episode 58: In The Dark by Gym Was Cancelled

PODCAST: Episode 120: All The Way by MythTaken

[Recs & In Search Of]

[Seasonal Spuffy] Rec Post: thenewbuzwuzz recced by the_wiggins

[Fandom Discussions]

People wonder why Angel would continue using the name after getting his soul back by ripperrupertgiles

buffy’s graduating class looks really small. I’d love to know how large it was their freshman year by ssaalexblake

just finished the season 2 finale. xander pissing me the f* off by girlboydotjpg

i’m thinking about daniel “oz” osbourne of buffy the vampire slayer fame and the tragedy of his werewolf narrative by joe-spookyy

I used to hate season 4 of BTVS [...] but on my millionth rewatch I think this is one of the funniest seasons by theprophecy-girl

It still bugs me that the show treats Cordelia as in the wrong for her being angry at Xander by furyxiv

am thinking abt the body swap episode of btvs where eliza dushku and sarah michelle gellar play pitch perfect versions of each other’s characters by pelorsdyke

[ask by coraniaid] Kendra for the reverse unpopular opinions ask game? by finalgirl1984

What If: Willow did know Buffy was in Heaven? by nightshade, multiple posters

Why everyone hates this season [S4] continued by Mott1

Buffy vs angel theme song by No-Cicada5474

For the “Sunnydale makes no sense” discussions by Few_Solid4040

How do you think the other characters would have handled the crucial impulsive decision Wesley made by AsiaRoots

Anyone else love Lorne?! by AsiaRoots

S4 roommate situation by ZitRemedy11

“If they hurt Willow, I’ll kill you” by clickyr

All jokes aside, who would actaully win. Astronauts or cavemen? by melaniemoth13

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[midwestmade29]

CHAPTER 2 is here!!! 🥳

I’m on a roll guys! Let’s hope this momentum continues 🤞🏻 This chapter is written from Christian’s POV and has a *certain best friend* of his in it too! I’m excited to see where my brain takes this story, and I hope you are too. Enjoy! 🤩

If you are not 18+ years old, please KEEP SCROLLING. Do not interact with any parts/chapters of this story.

Due to the explicit nature, this story is NSFW or minors.

This chapter is written from the POV of Christian Cage and has dialogue between him and Adam Copeland. It features references to the female character of the story too.

Some topics/actions/theme(s) of this story may not be suitable and/or triggering for some readers. Foul language, alcohol consumption/use, drunkenness, arguments, self doubt, and self sabotage are a few examples.

Word count for Chapter 2: 1,365

CHRISTIAN’S POV

“What the fuck am I doing?” I asked myself as I still sat at the table. My head was swimming, and I wasn’t thinking straight. I just let the best damn thing in my life walk right out the door and didn’t even try to stop her. Instead, I asked her “what about dinner?” as if that even mattered anymore in that moment. Once again, I did what I do best; fuck things up. When our waiter walked up to the table, he spoke to me, but his words fell upon deaf ears. I was too much in my head to give a shit about what he had to say. “I have to go after her!” I announced. I threw enough cash on the table to cover what had been ordered and to give the waiter a decent tip and ran to the door as fast as my drunk legs would let me. I could feel the alcohol slosh around in my stomach with every step I took, causing a wave of queasiness to overtake me. The night air hit me like a ton of bricks and threatened to sober me up as I looked from side to side and all around for my beautiful girl. When she was nowhere to be found, I raked my fingers through my hair and ripped my phone out of my pocket to call her. “Come on baby, please pick up.” I repeated like a prayer. After 5 more calls and a handful of text messages, she still wouldn’t answer. I paced back in forth in front of the restaurant in the pouring rain, cursing under my breath and talking to myself, causing everyone who walked by to stare and look at me like I was crazy.

I had a chauffeur drive me from the airport to the restaurant earlier, so I didn’t have any transportation currently. I wasn’t even sure where I would go if I did anyway. Should I go home and own up to my mistake for the millionth time and see the hurt and sadness in my girl’s eyes? Maybe stumble my way to a random bar and continue to drink myself stupid? I got halfway down the sidewalk when a car started driving slowly along the curb, following me. I didn’t recognize it from the darkness of the night, so I ignored it and continued walking wherever my feet wanted to take me. The passenger’s side window rolled down a few inches, and someone began to speak but I couldn’t make anything out through the rain. Who knew what this creep wanted, and I really didn’t want to find out, so I picked up my pace. When the driver rolled the window the rest of the way down and yelled “Hey dumbass!” in my direction, I stopped in my tracks. “Get in the car, now!” I bent down and squinted my eyes to try and make out the driver, and a sense of relief and a surge of annoyance washed over me when I recognized them. “Adam?”

“Get in the car you idiot before I have to make you!” Adam threatened. I was still a little stunned that he was here, but I didn’t protest and slid myself into the passenger’s seat. “Damnit man, you’re soaked! You wreak of whiskey too. What the hell happened Christian?!” I dodged his question by asking some of my own. “What are you doing here? How did you know where I was?” My head was still foggy and a little slow to react, but Adam’s silence answered my questions for him. “She sent you, didn’t she?” I asked sheepishly. Adam nodded as he pulled the car away from the curb and into traffic. “Yeah, she did. She called about a half hour ago and told me that you were shitfaced and that you should still be at the restaurant. She didn’t want you to be on your own since she had to leave.” He explained. “Is that all she told you?” I replied. “And that she was worried about you and asked me if I would come get you. What happened, man? She sounded pretty upset.”

I groaned into my hands before trying to explain myself. Adam continued to drive us out of the downtown area while waiting for my response. “I fucked up.” Was all I offered him, earning a disgruntled look from Adam. “Well thanks Captain Obvious. I kinda pieced that together already.” He spoke sarcastically. “How did you fuck up?” “On the plane earlier, some of the guys were busting my balls and I guess I let it get to me. They mentioned the stuff that’s been plastered all over social media about me being “washed up” and “a burden to AEW.” Everyone has been relentless lately and it messes with my head.” My hands balled up into fists the more I carried on. “For the last 12 days it’s felt like it's been me against the world and I was sick of feeling like that, so on the plane I helped myself to the free drinks to drown the bullshit out, but one drink led to two and then three and I lost count of how many I had after stopping at the bar in the airport. I was 40 minutes late getting to the restaurant because of my stupidity, and things just continued to go downhill from there.”

“Dude, how long have you been in this business? You know how the journalists, and everyone can be. Why do you let it get to you like that? You didn’t mention any of this before I left to come home the other day.” Adam put the car in park inside his garage and opened his door to get out. “Why are we here?” I asked. “Because you need to sober up and I’ve been given the task to make sure you do. You also need to give that poor girl of yours some space and time to work through her own thoughts before trying to patch things up. You can stay in the guest bedroom, but so help me God if you hurl anywhere besides in the toilet, I’ll unleash Beth on you. There are some dry clothes on the bed and a couple ibuprofen and bottles of water waiting on you inside. We can continue this conversation once you change.” “Thanks, man.” Was all I could say without getting too emotional as we walked inside the house. If it wasn’t for my sweet, beautiful girl, my best friend, and his wife, who knows where I would’ve ended up tonight.

After getting myself changed and settled, I figured it was time to come out of the guest bedroom and pick up where Adam and I had left off. Beth and the girls were already in bed, so I was thankful they didn’t have to see me like this. I started feeling worse and worse the more I sobered up and I could already tell that the morning was going to be rough. I plopped myself down on the couch and Adam begrudgingly turned off the hockey game recap he was watching on tv. I was the first one to speak this time. “Being in this business for as long as we have doesn’t mean that it gets easier hearing such harsh and cruel criticism. You know I’ve been told my entire life and my entire career that I’m second best. That I’m a nobody and that I’m riding on the coattails of you and every other successful wrestler I’ve worked with. No one has ever seen me as a star in my own right and I carry that around with me every day. It’s exhausting.” “I get that man, but is sabotaging yourself and the great relationship you have with your girl the best way to deal with it? Will that prove them right or wrong? The assholes who say that shit about you don’t know anything. They only write that garbage for the tiny paycheck that comes from it. I know how good you are as a wrestler and as a man. I just wish you would see it too.”

…CHAPTER 3 WILL BE POSTED SOON! 🖤

[cloudynyims]

This is part two of the untitled Jamie/borrower fic I started... 6 months ago D: I genuinely didn't think I would lose gusto for that long but January-April is always busy for me w/ school so I'm not terribly surprised. But as promised, here is part two! Enjoy my first writing in 6 months :) Part 1 is here if you didn't read or forgot what happened! This part is about 2.1k words!

Roy was pissed off when they told him what happened while he was gone. “That stupid fucking prick. Not only was he lurking in my office, but he scared you half to death,” he seethed. They knew better than to interrupt Roy when he was worked up like this. Even still, they rolled their eyes.

“He didn’t scare me that badly,” They mumbled to themselves, trying to downplay the mind-numbing terror they had experienced. 

“Fucking hell. Are you sure you’re alright?” He asked them for the millionth time. They hadn’t seen Roy get this protective since the team first found them a year ago. 

“I told you, I’m fine. He didn’t do anything to me. He just asked me a few questions and then left me alone.” Roy didn’t seem to trust their words, but they knew he was just concerned. If Jamie had done anything, he’d be the first to take care of it.

“When I get my hands on that bastard, I swear I’ll…” They began to tune him out. When Roy was aggravated like this, it became a one-sided conversation. They usually listened politely, but their thoughts turned to Jamie. They kept replaying the moment in their head. When he saw them for the first time, how their entire body froze up with fear, and they could barely get a word out. 

But each time they thought about it again, his actions became less scary. He didn’t grab them, hurt them, prod at them, or do anything they seemed uncomfortable with. He didn’t yell, nor did he act malicious in any way. But they also couldn’t ignore how strongly the team felt about him.

They should still be cautious, right?

The Jamie they encountered was so different from the Jamie everyone described. He was gentle, considerate, and attentive. He was a little annoying before he noticed them, but after he wasn’t. He wasn’t demeaning or narcissistic either. The mix of opinions and actions messed with their head. Was he trustworthy or not?

For the next week, they tried to solve that mystery. They still spent most of their time during training in Roy’s pocket, but that was fine with them. It made it easier to observe Jamie. They started peeking out of the pocket when they were certain Roy wasn’t paying attention to them. They wanted to watch and understand how Jamie operated. They needed to see what he was like for themselves. 

To their surprise, Jamie seemed distant. They hadn’t seen him practice before, but this was not what they had expected. From what Roy had told them weeks prior, Jamie was still the same self-centered type of player. While his gameplay wasn’t really affected, even they could tell he seemed off. He had a few uncharacteristic errors during training.

Ted was getting on him about those, and Jamie just took it. They knew Jamie could run his mouth; his insults and backtalk often drove Roy to the edge. But now, he was hardly talking at all. He only nodded absently to any direction he was given. They were even more confused than they were before they started. 

They couldn’t figure it out. Why was he acting so strange? Roy still wasn’t coaching him, but that never bothered him before. The only thing that had taken place recently was him discovering them. They scoffed. He had no reason to be affected by that. He didn’t get towered over by someone he was told to be wary of. He didn’t get his wits scared out of him. There was no reason for their existence to influence him.

Practice had finished once they returned from the depths of their thoughts. Roy brought them back to his office to stretch their legs. Once he set them down, they began pacing on his desk, thinking again. He could tell something was wrong. “Oi,” He said to snap them out of their thoughts. “What’s up with you?”

They turned to face him. “Sorry,” They said with a small smile. “I was just thinking. I didn’t mean to worry you.” “You’re not worrying me.” He observed as they continued pacing. “Are you thinking about Jamie?” He asked suddenly. They looked up with a start. He continued, “If that twat is making you stressed out, I swear to fucking God that I will beat his ass into next week.”

That made them chuckle. “No, no, no, you don’t need to do that. I promise I’m okay,” They said waving him off.

He knew that wasn’t everything. “But?”

“I just… I can’t figure it out. Why has Jamie been so off lately?” Roy didn’t comment and waited for them to continue. “Is it my fault? He makes these errors in practice now, and I know how much it annoys you when he *doesn’t* make errors. And he seems so distant. He’s not talking much, and he hasn’t annoyed you in days!”

Roy sat back in his chair. “You say that like I enjoy it when he annoys me. I’ve been enjoying the peace,” Roy said with a ghost of a smile.

“That’s not what I meant,” They clarified. “I just… I feel bad. Like I drove him to this point or something.” They paused. “Like... maybe if I hadn’t been so nervous… or… maybe I should apologize—”

Roy interrupted them. “Apologize for what? That prick was snooping where he wasn’t supposed to be. Given how shitty he is, he shouldn’t have been surprised you reacted the way you did.” They cast their gaze down, still unconvinced.

He reached out to tap their shoulder reassuringly. “You’re a good person, and I know you care. But don’t waste your energy worrying about him. He’ll get over himself. His attitude is not your fault.” 

Roy’s words dispelled their guilt for a few days. But Jamie’s mood wasn’t getting any better, so their guilt returned tenfold. One day, in the middle of training, they made up their mind. They were going to talk to Jamie and figure out what was going on. Roy would kill them if he found out, probably because this was their stupidest idea to date. But they wouldn’t be able to live with themselves if they didn’t.

They knew Roy had a coaches meeting today, so they waited until he left them in his office. Once the coast was clear, they walked over to the edge of the desk. The office didn’t have much to help them get to the floor, much to their annoyance. So, they went back to their roots and headed to their old stash of supplies in the walls. Finding their old hook wasn’t difficult, and they made their way back to the edge of the desk.

“Phew, it’s been a while since I’ve had to do this,” they mumbled to themself. Digging their hook into the groove they previously made at the edge of the desk (they were grateful Roy still hadn’t noticed), it all came back to them. With practiced ease, they descended to the floor, gathered their hook, and jogged toward the door. 

It was closed, but they were small enough to squeeze underneath. They crawled under, with their hook getting stuck behind them. After yanking it free from the narrow opening, they looked at the locker room. It had been a while since they had seen the locker room from here. They had almost forgotten how looming it all was. A twinge of fear crept up their spine.

As fate would have it, Jamie was the only one present. He was standing in front of his locker, messing with something inside. They took a deep breath and started heading his way. Doubts crept into their mind, but they pushed the thoughts away, their resolve stronger than their fears. 

They had almost reached where he was standing when he suddenly turned away from his locker. With not a moment to lose, they scrambled out of the way as he stepped way too close for comfort. They felt the ground shake as his shoe landed a few feet away. Eyes wide, they stared up at Jamie, who was oblivious to what just happened. Penny in hand, he walked toward the laundry bin and tossed it in absently. 

Their heart was racing from the close call. They pressed themselves against the bench wall as he ambled back their way. Jamie promised he would never hurt them, but they guessed that only counted if he knew they were around. He sat down on the bench in the middle of the room and began untying his boots.

They took a moment to catch their breath and calm down. Their heart was still pounding, but they were directly in his line of sight now. There was no going back. “Jamie?” they called hesitantly. His eyes found theirs in an instant. 

“Oh, it’s you,” he said with a remorseful tone. “What’re you doing over there? Did you need something?” Jamie was being extra careful. He could see how their fingers tugged anxiously at their sweater. While they weren't as terrified as the first time they met, it was clear they were still nervous. 

“…” They debated telling him about the recent scare he just gave them, but deemed it counterproductive to their mission. Peeling themself away from the wall, they took a few steps closer. “I just wanted to know if—" they paused as Jamie leaned a little closer to hear them better.

Every instinct was telling them that they shouldn’t be here. But Jamie looked so concerned with what they had to say. So, they regrouped and continued. “I just wanted to know if I did anything to upset you or make you feel bad. I’m sorry if I did.” They noticed that Jamie’s face twisted into a confused expression. “It’s just… you’ve been acting strange since that day, and I feel like it’s my fault and I threw you off your game or something…”

Now he looked downright bewildered. “You’re... apologizing to me?” He asked. 

They nodded. “I thought you might think you hurt me or something… but I’m okay! I was just nervous. I didn’t mean to come across that way. I’ve just heard so much about you from the team and it was wrong for me to judge you so quickly. I wanted to apologize for that too.” They steadied themselves. They were getting worked up into a panic again. “Roy would kill me if he knew I was here but… yeah.”

Jamie didn’t know what to say. They were the last person he wanted an apology from. In his eyes, they hadn’t done anything wrong. Why were they apologizing for how they reacted? Were they so nervous that they thought they had to make amends for being scared? Now he felt even worse. “I don’t think I ever got your name,” he said softly. 

The question was out of the blue. “Y/n,” they responded.

“Listen, you don’t need to apologize to me for anything. How I’ve been feeling is… complicated. But none of it is your fault.” They watched as he stood up from where he had been sitting. They shuffled a few steps back, anxious. He loomed over them even more while standing, but thankfully he squatted down soon after. 

“I’ve been off because you made me think about myself. I’ve been trying to be… better,” he explained, but it was almost painful to watch him say it. “I don’t hate you, or anything like that, I’m just…” He looked like he stopped himself from going further. “It doesn’t matter, but don’t feel like anything is your fault, okay? I get it. I’ve been a dick in the past, and the team only wants the best for you.” 

They were nodding along, taking in what he had to say. “But, could we maybe be friends? At some point? Could I earn your trust?” Jamie asked hopefully. He wasn’t stupid. He could tell they were more than a little uneasy around him, no matter how much they tried to appear otherwise. 

They shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. “At some point,” they said after some deliberation. A thought came to them and they smiled a little bit. “It would drive Roy crazy, though.”

Jamie shrugged. “I can live with that.” 

They found themselves opening up slightly. “So… we’ll take it slow?” They asked, just to be sure. 

“As long as it takes,” he assured. 

They nodded. “We’ll be friends… eventually.”

PHEW now that this is done, I can start on new ideas and scenarios and things :D I don't like the end but when do I ever lol.

[skarlette1]

Horny New Year!

It had been one hell of a year and even a superheroine couldn’t wait to see the end of it. New Year’s Eve was always a quiet night for crime in Skarlette City, so I didn’t mind stepping out of my Platinum Panther armor for the evening. I put my AI assistant Foxy into a maintainence cycle, donned a backless cocktail dress in red silk, set my holographic face to display the “billionaire socialite” version of Penelope Payes, and headed out to confront something scarier than supervillains: rich people and celebrities.

Every year, Leo Lancing threw the most exclusive party in the city and insisted I attend. I’d never been fond of parties, but Leo was an old friend and I owed him a lot. I only hoped that this year he wouldn’t try to fix me up with someone he thought was “just perfect” for me. Men of a certain age should know better than to play matchmaker.

I was more than fashionably late, and didn’t see Leo when I first arrived. When I finally caught sight of him, he was making his way toward me through the crowd. He was leading someone, but I couldn’t make out more than their gaudy top hat through the throng of people. The density of the crowd made it difficult for me to make a quick exit. Leo was harder to escape than a supervillain when he wanted to set me up with someone. At least the top hat meant he’d found a man to foist upon me. I didn’t know if I had the stamina to try to explain to him for the millionth time that I wasn’t a lesbian!

“Penelope! There’s someone I want you to meet,” Leo said, taking my elbow. “This is ...”

“Allie Kaza’am!” I blurted out, nearly dropping my drink. The supervillainess with the commanding voice hung on Leo’s arm. Her femme-cut tuxedo, top hat, and fishnet stockings made her look more like the evening’s entertainment than a guest.

Ever since our last meeting, where Allie’s super-powered voice had tricked me out of my armor, my clothes, and my self-control, I’d been testing out designs for ear protection that would negate her honeyed tones. I was confident that my current prototype could completely block her powers, the only snag was that they were sitting on a workbench at Libido League Tower. Considering Foxy’s maintenance cycle, the only protection I had against the seductive siren was my natural stubbornness and my holographic face. At least she wouldn’t recognize me as the Platinum Panther.

A smile of genuine pleasure bloomed on Allie’s face. “So nice to be recognized. It’s always delightful to meet a fan, particularly one as lovely as you, Penelope.”

“I’m not a fan, I just know you from … never mind. If you’ll excuse me, I just need to speak to Leo for a—”

“Sorry, sugar, but you won’t be leaving my side for the rest of the year. It’s not that long, so you won’t mind.”

Of course Allie Kaza’am’s vocal powers made her too dangerous for me to leave her side. I had to keep an eye on her to make sure she didn’t take advantage of any of the other guests. At least after the stroke of midnight, the party would start to break up and I could find a way to bring her to justice for her crimes.

Until then, the least I could do was get Leo out of the siren’s reach. Taking Allie by the arm, I said, “Thanks for the introduction, Leo. I guess Ms. Kaza’am will make sure I don’t have to ring in the New Year by kissing you on the cheek. Why don’t you go have fun?”

Leo smiled like a proud uncle. “As soon as Allie introduced herself to me, I knew the two of you would hit it off! Happy New Year!” He grabbed a drink and slipped away into the crowd.

I leaned closer to Allie’s raven hair so that only she could hear me. “You used your voice to force Leo to introduce us, didn’t you?”

Her laugh was short and sharp, and sexier than it had any right to be. “I was ready to, but there was no need! That man truly wants nothin’ but the best for you, Penelope, bless his heart. He took one look at me and said, ‘Allie, there’s someone here who needs some fun in her life.’ He’s right. You’re so tense! That fancy dress must have looked more lively on the store dummy than on you.”

“Being held by a supervillainess is enough to make anyone tense.”

“Not anyone, sugar. Most girls like the way I hold them. You could, too, if you give me a chance. I’m just here to talk.”

“I know all about your so-called ‘talk’ and what it can do, Kaza’am. You’re not getting a damn thing from me tonight.” I didn’t know what she wanted, but I’d be damned if I was going to give it to her!

“If not now, then maybe next year? Regardless, you have the wrong idea about me, sugar. I don’t know what your bodyguard Platinum Panther told you about our last meeting, but I’m not here to hurt anyone. I’d really just like to see her again, but she’s a tough lady to get in touch with. I’m hoping you could help.”

The last thing I wanted to do was let Allie Kaza’am know that I don’t employ Platinum Panther, but that I am her. “I won’t be helping you with anything, Kaza’am. I’ve poured over every piece of data we have on you. The more I mentally resist your commands, the more you need to strain to make me do something. I’m the most stubborn bitch you’ll ever meet. Get used to nosebleeds if you try force your powers on me.” I only hoped I sounded more confident than I felt. I knew just how seductive Allie’s sweet voice could be.

“You may be just as stubborn as your pet superheroine, Penelope. But there’s no need to be. I told Leo and I’m telling you. I’m only here for some fun. Here, let me prove it to you.” Allie pulled me through the crowd toward the live band. Still holding onto my hand, she stepped onto the stage and grabbed the singer’s microphone. “Good evening. I hope y’all are ready for a night you’ll never forget, because I want y’all to party like there’s no tomorrow and never mind the two of us.”

The party erupted in cheers. The band resumed the dance music at a faster, more frenetic pace. I grabbed the mic from Allie. “You don’t need to listen to her. This woman is a supervillainess. Can someone please summon the Libido League to capture her?”

Allie laughed. “Ain’t no one going to listen to you but me, sugar. There’s nothing like being in a crowd on New Year’s, but I also wanted a private party with just you, Penelope. This is the best of both worlds.”

Spotting Leo at the edge of the stage, I grabbed him by the tie and pulled him over. “Leo! You need to help me. Call the League!”

He didn’t take his eyes off the twenty-something model he was dancing with. “This is some party, Claudette!” It was like he couldn’t even see me.

Or couldn’t pay attention to me, which is what Allie Kaza’am had ordered him to do.

She made her way off the stage, wiping a trickle of blood from her nostril with a white handkerchief. “You see, Penelope? Just one night of fun is all I’m here for. Let’s start off with a little game. It’ll be harmless fun.” She grabbed a flute of champagne from a party-goer’s hand and raised it to me. “Never have I ever … enjoyed sex with a man.”

Allie and her love of games! I should have known she would have twisted something around to get a reaction out of me. Since I have enjoyed sex with men—many, many times, thank you very much—the rules of the game said I needed to take a drink. I snatched a martini from Leo’s grasp just as he was raising it to his lips. I took a sip and said, “Never have I ever—”

“Y’all call that a drink, sugar? Your lipstick didn’t even touch the glass. Empty it.”

I remembered from our last meeting that Allie was insistent we stick to the rules of her games. After all, it was harmless fun. I rolled my eyes, but drained the entire glass until there was nothing left but the olive. The smooth sharpness burned its way down my throat and warmed my belly. “Happy now, Kaza’am?”

“My kind of fun makes us both happy, sugar.” Wrapping an arm around my waist, she pulled me close. Her green eyes filled my vision, beautiful and seductive. I could just fall into those perfect—

I looked away before her emerald irises could swallow up my will to defy her. If I fought her voice, I’d be more susceptible to her eyes. My avenues for escape were shrinking.

Shrinking! Allie’s enthralling green irises would shrink the more her pupils grew! Since alcohol would cause her pupils to dilate, I could turn her stupid drinking game against her. Grabbing another glass from a party-goer, I raised it. “Never have I ever robbed a bank!”

Allie laughed. “You too, sugar? I tried to rob a bank once, but a sexy heroine in an armored body stocking stopped me. No drink for me. Didn’t I read that your company bought a bank in the Cayman Islands for pennies on the dollar after Doctor Conquest had attacked the island? That sounds like high-class bank robbery to me.”

My jaw dropped open. “That’s not the same as— We were trying to save the— It’s not like we wanted him to—” I sputtered as I looked into her amused eyes. She wasn’t buying it. Neither was I. With a sigh, I quaffed whatever rum and cola concoction was in the glass I’d snagged. My head was starting to feel floaty.

“What a good sport you are, Penelope. Here’s an easy one for a proud, straight girl like you.” She raised her still-untouched glass of champagne. “Never have I ever … kissed a beautiful girl … forced my tongue down her throat … got myself all wet while we made out … and then denied how hot it made me.”

My brain was moving two beats slower than it should have. Must have been all the drinks. I closed my eyes trying parse her statement, since I knew that kissing girls was something Allie loved to do. But she didn’t deny it, so I—

Before I could reply, Allie’s hands were in my hair and her lips were on mine. Pillow-soft as I remembered, those lips kissed like an angel. Then her hot, bold tongue snaked into my mouth like a demon from hell. Her fiery kiss ignited all that booze in my belly into a burning lust that melted my resolve and slicked my snatch.

Allie broke the kiss first, my pink lipstick smeared with her crimson on her face. “I thought that was hella fun, sugar. How about you?”

“N-no … I, um, I didn’t ...” I muttered, my head nodding on its own.

Allie smirked. I had walked right into her trap. I muttered, “Fuck!” and knocked back the clear, almost flavorless shot I found in my hand. Staggering, Allie kept me from falling over.

“Easy there, sugar. For ‘the most stubborn bitch I’ll ever meet,’ you can’t really hold your liquor. You’re as much a lightweight with booze as you’re a heavyweight with cash.”

She eased me into a chair. It was thankfully secured in this endlessly spinning room. Shaking my finger at her, I slurred. “That’s sleazy for you to say ...”

“The last thing I want is for you to drink too much, sugar. How about we switch up the game a bit? Strip instead of drink?”

My eyes wouldn’t quite focus on Allie. I guess that kept me safe from those eyes … and I guess she had a point about the booze. “Strip? In front of the whole party?”

“Yes, sugar, but they can’t see us, remember?”

She plucked the drink out of a tall man’s hand just as he was raising it to his lips. He looked around, bewildered at how his glass had vanished. I chuckled, “Ha! Right! Okay. Okay.”

“That’s the spirit, sugar.” Allie raised her glass. “Never have I ever worn a dress worth more than a grand.”

I looked down at my red silk cocktail dress. I couldn’t remember if I had even paid for it, or how much, or if it was a gift. It’s amazing the amount of stuff people give you when you’re already rich! Regardless, I was certain it would fetch at least that much, even second-hand. “A girl’s gotta look good,” I said as I unzipped the side and shimmied out of the silk. The cool air tickled my nipples and—

“Fuck!” I’d forgotten I wasn’t wearing a bra! Crossing my arms over my breasts, I stood before Allie Kaza’am in nothing but my lacy white thong. “Enjoy the show while you can. This next one will get you. Never have I—”

“Not so fast, sugar. I guessed right, so I get an extra turn.”

“Really? That’s not in the rules.”

“It is now,” she said, a tiny droplet of blood staining her upper lip.

Even drunk, I knew that the nosebleed meant she was using her super-powered voice. But I couldn’t figure out why she would waste the effort to enforce the actual rules of the game. Of course she would get an extra turn for guessing right. It’s obvious. “Okay, Kaza’am. What have you never next not ever not done?”

Her smirk was electric. “Never have I ever kept a superheroine on my payroll.”

Did being Platinum Panther count as being on my own payroll? What about all the stipends I gave to the Libido League members that needed money? With the warm, alcoholic buzz cocooning my brain, I was in no shape to debate. “Y’know, for someone who doesn’t do crime for the money, you sure talk about it a lot.” I slid my panties down my legs and kicked them off. (I couldn’t remember losing my shoes, but they were definitely gone.)

“Whatever it takes to see that hot little body of yours, sugar.”

With one arm over my breasts and another covering my crotch, I was completely naked before Allie and the whole party. She licked her lips. “Never have I ever cum in the middle of a crowd.”

“Ha! I never did … wait … do alien invasions count?” When the interstellar sex warrior Queen Klitorya had invaded Skarlette City, her alien sex drones had forced orgasms from half the city, myself included.

“What do you think, sugar?”

“Fuck. I don’t have anything else to strip off.” Allie’s harmless fun game had no end in sight. “Should I drink more?”

“No, we don’t want you passing out, sugar.” Allie stepped close to me. Putting her hands on my shoulders, she looked deeply into my eyes. “Since you’ve already cum in the middle of a crowd once, it’s only fair that you do it again right here … right now.”

She leaned down and kissed me again. Being naked made my whole body alert to sensation, and the kiss that much hotter. As she pulled me close, my arms wrapped around her and I rubbed my tingling flesh against her tuxedo.

Even though I knew that Allie’s game was harmless fun, some tiny part of me knew things were getting out of hand. But I could barely hear that part through the haze of arousal, the buzz of booze, and the impression of her power. I knew I was supposed be stubborn and resist her at some point, I just couldn’t remember when.

As her thigh slid between mine, any chance of remembering anything evaporated in a burst of bliss. Allie pulled me onto a couch, where I found myself humping her thigh. My pussy sparked as it rubbed against the strands of her fishnet stockings. My whole body trembled with swiftly building bliss as I rocked back and forth, Allie Kaza’am kissing my neck and nibbling on my earlobe.

“You look like you want to cum so bad, sugar.”

“I do. I do. Oh fuck, I do!”

Allie’s words hissed in my ear. “Too bad you can’t cum. You’re too drunk.”

“Oh no! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” Why had I drunk so much? I was supposed to be smart, but I knew that alcohol interfered with sex. My climax was already building within me. So strong. So hot. I needed to ride it. I needed to release it. “Please, Allie. I need it. I need it.”

“I could do it. I could use my power to order you to cum. It would be the biggest fireworks of your life, sugar.”

I humped her leg faster, each movement pushing me closer to a release I couldn’t claim on my own. “Yes. Yes. Do it. Order me. Please, Allie. Make me cum.”

She flashed me that lopsided smirk. “You’ll need to prove to me that you really want it, Penelope. You’ll need to do something special.”

“Anything, Allie. Anything. Please. Please.”

“Tell me how to get in touch with Platinum Panther.”

Even through the lust and booze, her plan was suddenly crystal clear. Allie had waited until I was so desperate for her voice before she sprang her trap. My whole body boiled red-hot, every cell screaming for release. Release I had to beg her for. Release that would would cost me my secret identity.

Somehow, seeing the trap I’d blundered into caused my hips to slow their rocking. “Please, Allie. Anything else. A million dollars. Ten million. Just make me cum. Please.”

“Money’s nothing to a girl like you, Penelope. I want something that matters. Give me Platinum Panther.”

I shook my head, fighting to still my hips. “No … I want to fucking cum, but … I’ll think of some other way ...”

Suddenly, Allie seized me and we rolled. I was on my back on the couch, with her on top of me. “You don’t have time for that, sugar. Once midnight hits, I’m gone and you’re left alone and blue. I’ll use my voice to order you to never cum again.”

As I struggled to understand what she was saying, all the party-goers shouted at once, “Ten!”

Allie gazed deeply into my eyes as her finger delved deeply into my dripping pussy. “What’ll it be, sugar?”

“Nine!”

“Oh fuck!” Her finger felt so much better than her fishnets.

“Eight!”

My body quaked with hot, desperate need as she pumped a second finger inside me. “Fuck!”

“Seven!”

“Well, sugar? You want it?” How did she make cruelty so sexy?

“Six!”

“Please. Please. I need it.”

“Five!”

“Say it, sugar.”

“Four!”

“I … I am ...”

“Three!”

“Tell me, sugar.”

“Two!”

“I am Platinum Panther!”

“One!”

“Cum now.”

“Happy New Year!”

Fireworks. I climaxed in a blaze of pure, all-consuming, scorching, lust-drenched fireworks.

# # #

I awoke sometime before dawn, snugly curled in a throw blanket on the couch. The room was empty, except for Leo turning off the lights.

“Leo, is the party over?”

He smiled at me. “Yes, Penelope. Everyone’s gone home. I didn’t want to wake you to say your good-byes. Allie said you needed your sleep.”

“What else did Allie say to you?”

“Just that she is looking forward to seeing you again soon.”

My head throbbed at the thought that Allie Kaza’am now knew my secret identity. “That’s definitely not going to happen.”

“Give her a chance, Penelope.” Leo picked up a piece of red silk hanging from a lampshade. It was my dress. “It certainly looks like you two hit it off.”

A warm blush spread from my cheeks down to my chest. “That’s none of your business, Leo.”

He stepped closer and handed me the dress. “All I want for you is what your father would have wanted. The same thing I want for you every New Year, Penelope. Find a way to be happy.” He slowly walked up the stairs toward his bedroom.

I’ve never been good at being happy. But with the memory of my encounter with Allie Kaza’am fresh in my mind, I was certain to have a horny New Year.

---

--Inspired by a delicious coffee from B_B. To make your own requests, maybe buy me a coffee.

--A sequel of sorts to Libido League #3, “Daring Truth.” Available now at Amazon and Smashwords!

All my fiction is on sale at Smashwords from December 15, 2022 through January 1, 2023, including my newest erotic novel, Panther’s Passion!

[steviesnailbat]

Steve quietly unlocked his front door and stumbled inside, letting it swing shut behind him.  He was honestly amazed he’d managed to get home at all.  Everything ached after the ass whooping Billy had given him and he was seeing double.  He needed to patch himself up, then he could go to bed and pass out for a week.

He’d only gone a few steps before he froze, the millionth wave of dread for the night washing over him.  The kitchen light was on.  He knew for a fact he’d turned it off last night, and he hadn’t needed it during the day with the sun coming in through the windows, so that could only mean one thing.

Damn it.

He glanced at the clock.  4 am.

Shit.

He looked at the small mirror on the wall and saw the state of his face.

Fuck.

Maybe he could just sneak upstairs. 

He had a foot on the bottom step when his mother’s voice rang through the house.  “Steven, come in here.”

Steve closed his eyes and forced himself not to sigh.  Why now?  Why tonight?  He’d already dealt with enough.

“Steven!”

Steve flinched at his father’s sharp tone and opened his eyes again, removing his foot from the bottom step and heading into the kitchen instead.  Ignoring them or keeping them waiting was only going to make things worse.

His parents were on opposite sides of the kitchen, his father leaning against the counter next to the sink and his mother sitting on a stool at the island.  It still amazed Steve how they managed to present such a simultaneously united and divided front.  Divided in their marriage, united in how they felt about their son.

There was silence while his parents stared at him standing in the doorway, shocked by his battered appearance, and for a brief moment, the childish hope that maybe he’d receive some concern flared to life in his chest.  He knew better by now, but that repressed little desire betrayed him every time.

The spell of the moment was broken when his father cleared his throat.  “Are you aware of what time it is?”

“Yes, sir.”  Steve couldn’t help the sarcasm that slipped in.  He’d lost patience with his parents years ago, and while talking - and sometimes yelling - back always did more harm than good, his anger and pride would never let him just stand there and take it.  He had to push back first.

“Watch your tone with me, young man.  Where have you been?”

“Robbing a bank.”

His father’s expression darkened.  “You will take this discussion seriously, or -”

“Or what?”  Steve stepped up to the other side of the island between them, on the opposite end from his mother, leaning forward with his hands splayed on the marble.  “You’ll ground me?  What could you possibly threaten me with that has any teeth?”

His father was silent, rage twisting his features and his hands clenching into fists.  Steve noticed and he laughed.  He honest to god laughed. He felt insane.  It was like the weight of the night was all coming down on him at once and he was fracturing under the pressure.

“What?  You gonna hit me?  Maybe you didn’t notice, but someone already beat you to it.”

His father snapped.  “Shut up!”

“Don’t yell at my son.” Steve’s mother broke in for the first time.

“You shut up too!”

“Oh yeah, assert your dominance!” Steve mocked.  “Yell, scream, throw your weight around!  You’re like a toddler throwing a fit!”

“I will not be spoken to this way in my own house!  This is your fault!”  Steve’s father jabbed a finger at his wife.  “He learned this blatant disrespect from you -”

“Oh, that’s ridiculous!” she snapped back.  “He’d be respectful of you if you earned it!”

“I don’t need to earn his respect, or yours!  I’m the man of this house and I am owed respect!”

Steve’s parents had never seemed more childish to him than they did at this moment.  “You think you’re owed respect?  The world doesn’t owe you shit!  And it sure as hell isn’t going to give it to you!”

“What do you know about life and the world?  You stay here in Hawkins, whoring around with your friends and getting in fights until all hours of the night, imagine what everyone thinks -”

“Oh, there it fucking is!”  That was what it always came down to with his parents.  They didn’t really care what Steve did.  They didn’t care if he hurt people or if he got hurt.  They only cared what other people thought of their family.

His mother sighed.  “Steven, please, we don’t want to have this discussion again.”

“Well, I don’t want to have the discussion we’ve been having, and yet, here we are.”

“I just feel like you don’t understand how important this is to us.  Image matters, especially with the life we lead, and you’re our son, so you’re a part of that.”

“I’m not your son.  To you, I’m just another possession you can trot out and show off when it’s convenient and then ignore.”

The kitchen was silent.  It was finally out there.  They all knew it was true, they’d known for a long time, but none of them had ever said it.  Steve felt like a weight had been lifted off of him.  At least now they all knew where they stood.

His mother started crying.  “How could you say that?  You’re my son, how do you think it makes me feel to hear you say that?”

“How do you think it makes me feel to know that it’s true?”  Steve had long since stopped taking his mother’s tears seriously.  The way she approached him was different from his father.  She would pretend to be on his side when really she just liked using him against his father, and she loved crying and talking about being his mother to make him feel guilty and get her way.  It had worked when Steve was younger, but he knew better now.

“Go to your room.”  His father walked around the counter to stand in front of him, asserting physical dominance.  “We can’t deal with you right now.”

Steve scoffed.  “Oh, sure, when you want to bitch me out, you can deal with me, but the minute we get to something that I want to talk about -”

His father cut him off with a sharp slap and Steve stumbled, bringing a hand up to his throbbing face.  “I said go to your room.”

Steve turned and left the kitchen without a word.

He cursed himself as he went up the stairs.  He was all bark and no bite with his parents and he knew it.  He would talk back and yell and tell harsh truths until his father eventually slapped him for his disrespect, and just like that, it was over.  Something snapped inside of him and he was eight years old again, shaking and terrified of punishment.  He hated that part of himself with everything he had.

He listened to his parents scream at each other while he sat on the edge of the bathtub and did his best to tend to his own injuries.  The two of them were always fighting about something.  He’d be more worried if he couldn’t hear them tearing each other’s heads off, honestly.

Before long, they moved the argument to ‘their’ room, yelling right up until they settled down to sleep, his mother going across the hall to the guest room.

Steve stayed where he was long after he was finished and the house had gone quiet.  He was tired and in pain, and he was just so sick of arguing with his parents, of his parents arguing with each other.  It was exhausting enough on its own even without all of the other shit he had to deal with.  Something needed to change or he was going to have some kind of mental break.

Eventually he did get up, but he didn’t go back to his room.  He just wandered the dark, silent house, letting himself pretend that he was the only one home.  Normally he hated being alone, but it was better than having his parents there.  When he was younger, he would wish they were home, but that was back when he’d held onto the hope that maybe he could earn their affection, that maybe if he was just a little bit better, they would stay and they would love him.  But he knew better now.  He’d known better for a long time, and at this point, he just wanted them to go on their trips and stay gone.

He ended up in the garage.  He was almost never in there, no one parked their cars inside.  The entire space was devoted to his father’s Ferrari.

The 1961 Ferrari 250 GT California.  Only fifty-six had ever been made.  It was his father’s pride and joy.  He’d gotten it when Steve was young, and any time he was at home for several years after was spent in the garage with the car.  He’d worked on it, loved it, bragged about it.  He cared about what happened to it.  All the things he should’ve felt and done for his son, he’d done for a car.

Steve wasn’t prepared for the burst of hateful disgust that suddenly tore through him.  A car.  A fucking car.  He’d spent years jealous of a fucking car.

Before he knew what he was doing, he’d opened the garage door, grabbed his nail bat from his car, and was approaching the Ferrari.  The anger, bitterness, and resentment he carried was overflowing, too much for him to contain anymore.  It was all just too much.  Too much, too much, too much -

The bat slammed down on the car, denting it, the nails scratching off paint and digging in.  It was loud, but he didn’t care if he was heard.  He wouldn’t need long.

Steve brought the bat down over and over again, destroying the hood and the grill, shattering the windshield.  It was like everything was pouring out of him at once, the years of neglect and loneliness and disapproval, full of icy silences, cruel words, and stinging slaps.  The guilt of the damage he himself had done, the pain of thinking that Nancy loved him and learning that it had always been a lie, of never being good enough for anyone.  The memories of monsters and flickering lights and terror and danger and losses he could’ve prevented, pain and blood and darkness and death.  Always death.

Steve screamed as he beat the car, letting all of the agony twisted up inside him loose on this one thing.

Eventually he stumbled back, breathing heavily, the bat still clutched in his hands. For the first time in years, he didn’t feel like he was being suffocated, even if it was just for a few minutes.  The front of the vehicle was unrecognizable, and he smiled in spiteful satisfaction.  If his father couldn’t sort out his priorities, then Steve would sort them out for him.

He could hear his parents footsteps moving through the house as they came to investigate the noise.  Good.  He wanted them to come and see and know what he’d done.  They couldn’t deal with him?  Well, now they’d have to.  They’d have to face their decisions and their son and deal with the consequences.  And this time, Steve wasn’t going to back down.