#but you could see the fucking pain in her eyes

[angel1010xx]

ｎｉｇｈｔｍａｒｅｓ

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Pairing: Zoro x Reader

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“Nami, stop!” Running with as fast of a pace as you could manage, you chased after Nami, crying out for her to stop. She was heading straight into a trap—but why wasn’t she stopping? Why couldn’t she hear you? And God, why did your side hurt so fucking bad?

A jolt of pain caused you to fall to your knees, scraping them and your shins against the rough cobblestone road. Your hands went to your side, pressing down hard, and you looked down.

Red. There was so much red.

Tears fell from your eyes as if they were a waterfall, and you shrieked in utter agony and fear. You didn’t have the strength to stand. You didn’t have the strength to move at all. 

Barely managing to lift your head back up, you gazed on as Nami got overpowered by the devil fruit users that attacked the crew. You glanced to your right—there was Chopper, laying in a pool of his own blood, body small and misshaped. You glanced to your left—there was Franky, lying still, limbs missing. 

Dazed in shock from what was going on around you, and from the pain in your abdomen, you hardly registered when two hands fell on either side of your head. Someone was standing behind you. However, you did feel when they twisted your neck, and with a quick ‘snap,’ the pain was gone.  

Thud.

You gasped and wheezed, pushing your upper body up off the floor. Sweat was dripping down your face, and your body was soaked in it. Slowly, you managed to piece together that no, you weren’t dying in battle. You were in your cabin, you had just rolled off of your bunk, and you were in your underwear—no bloody clothes and no fatal flesh wounds. 

Your shoulders hurt from the fall, but this was much better than a nightmare.

Groaning, you began to stand up. It was hot. You were thirsty. Why did the kitchen have to be so far away? I need to ask Franky to put some mini-fridges in the rooms, you mused. 

You grabbed a robe off the hook on the wall, and wrapped yourself in it as you left your cabin quarters. It was cool outside, and it was a welcome change. You took a few deep breaths.

In… out. In… out. Someone please make my heart stop beating so fast.

“Can’t sleep?”

You squeaked in surprise, stumbling a bit while you whipped around to see Zoro. He was sitting while leaning against the main mast that led up to the crow’s nest, a slight flush on his face that was a little damp. You eyed the bottle at his side. “Yeah…” you muttered. “Are you training? This late at night?”

He just shrugged. “Can’t become the greatest swordsman if I don’t make time to train.”

“Training? With booze?”

“Mind your business. Gotta practice being battle-ready under any condition.”

You huffed, pulling your robe tighter around you while you moved to sit down beside him. Zoro silently picked up the bottle and gestured it towards you, and you chose to take it. You put the bottle to your lips, took a gulp, and groaned as the alcohol burned down your throat. “I don’t drink much.”

“Oh yeah?” Zoro mumbled as you handed him back his liquor. “Good. It’s not good for you.” A few silent moments passed while the swordsman placed his attention on your heavy eyes. He gestured towards your face, hand still holding the bottle. “You’re tired. You look like you’ve been crying.” You sighed, then placed your head on his shoulder. “Bad dreams. I’ll be alright.”

Zoro tensed up slightly, but didn’t move to get you off him. Mr. Rough-and-Gruff had a soft spot for his crew, and maybe more so for you. “I have strong friends,” you whispered. “I don’t have to worry about any of them, especially not the king of hell right here.” Zoro chuckled. “No, definitely not.”

You two stayed there, quiet, and comfortable in the moment. Neither of you remember when you two dozed off to sleep, lying against the mast.

*_______*_______*________*

Nami yawned and stretched, still shaking off her sleep as she left her quarters as the sun rose. She had to go find Robin, and Robin had been on night watch, so Nami was heading towards the crow’s nest.

What Nami was surprised to see, was you and Zoro sound asleep on the deck. Your head was still on his shoulder, and your legs were up against the side of him while his arm was around your waist. She smiled. 

Nami turned her head as she heard the door to the kitchen slam open. There, in the doorway, stood a very pissed off Sanji. Wasting no time, Nami rushed him, placing her hand against his mouth and pushing him back into the kitchen. She listened as Sanji shouted a bunch of obscenities—“Damn that mosshead! Defiling a princess! His hands shouldn’t be on such an angel! It’s a crime against humanity!....”

Nami laughed at him. What a sore loser. 

[7ndipity]

BTS As Girl Dads

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: Headcanons about how the members would each handle being girl dads

Warnings: none

A/N: Thanks to @coffeedepressionsoup for this request! This got me soo in my feels, they’d all be such great dads(I may have gone a lil self indulgent but who cares lol). Obviously, some/most of these could also apply to any kid, regardless of gender, but for the sake of the Hc, we’re focusing on daughters

Masterlist

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Jin:

He’s honestly such a girl dad, argue with the wall

I totally see him wholly embracing the title and all the things that are typically considered ‘girly’, like pink and sparkles and all that

He would indulge every single one of her interests. She likes animals? They’re going to the zoo every weekend. She likes music? He’s signing her up for lessons for whatever instrument she’s into

I have this mental picture of them sitting on her bed together while he’s reading her bedtime stories, using all these silly voices and wearing one of her princess hats or something bc she insisted he needed for the character and just-😭

Yoongi:

Yoongi would be the softest girl dad ever, like she had him wrapped around her finger from day one. He took one look at her tiny little scrunched up face, that reminded him waay too much of his own expression when he’s annoyed, and he was a goner

I see him just sitting soo patiently while she gives him makeovers, wearing like three different pairs of clip-on earrings at the same time

He would really focus on teaching her to stand up for herself and makes sure she never takes any shit from anyone

He might come off a little stern sometimes, but it’s just because he worries and wants the best for her

Hobi:

Okay, Hobi as a girl dad might be one of my favorite headcanons, bc he’d be soo fucking sweet with them!

The tea party King. Like he shows up dressed in the most ridiculous outfits to make her giggle, and ready to talk imaginary gossip with her and any plushies that are joining them🤭

He would love shopping with/for her, constantly trying to find the coolest outfits or pieces for her, and they would definitely wear matching outfits when she was little(she would be the best dressed toddler ever, lol)

I also see him being quite protective of her at times, being super nervous/worried about her doing things like riding a bike for the first time or on her first days of school

Namjoon:

Omg Namjoon as a girl dad would be soo fucking protective. Like if someone does anything to hurt or upset her, they’re fucked

I see him loving daddy-daughter days out together, taking her to the park or museums or bookstores, really just wanting to indulge her curiosity and interests

Like Yoongi, he would really work to make sure she knows how to stand up for herself, as well as others

For all of his sternness tho, he would have the biggest soft spot for her, he’s 100% the type to let her have dessert before dinner or something bc she gave him puppy eyes

Jimin:

Omg he’s soo girl dad coded, like it’s not even funny(he literally confirmed that on that ep of “are you sure?” like 🥺)

He would treat her like a little princess, doting on her at every possible opportunity, buying her toys/clothes/treats, taking her on special outings, etc. If she wants something, he will do whatever he can do give it to her

He would not be able to stand seeing her in any sort of pain. Like even her just having a scraped knee would make him slightly misty-eyed, even tho she’s not upset/crying about it

I see them having lots of long talks about whatever’s on her mind. He would really strive to be her safe place to ask questions about anything, from school and friends to life and the future

Taehyung:

I see him being an amazing girl dad! He has this amazing, comforting dynamic with the girls that he’s worked with/is friends with, so I can only imagine how supportive he would be with his own daughter

He would be so indulgent in whatever she wanted. Ice cream before bed? Heck yeah, let him grab a spoon too. She wants a new plushie/toy even tho she just got one like yesterday? Well, the new one needs a friend, soo-

But he would still have his more stern/protective moments with her, just moreso in little ways like making sure she’s always wearing her helmet and elbow/knee pads, brushes her teeth, does her homework, etc

He would play along with all/any of their imaginary games, fully committing to the role(and adding waay too many silly death/fainting scenes bc they make her laugh)

Jungkook:

Junkook would absolutely adore a daughter. Like she would be his little princess and anyone/anything that upsets her will have to answer to him.

On the flip side of that protectiveness tho, he is so unbelievably gentle with her. As an infant, he handled her like she was made of glass, and as she grows up, he would always speak to her in a softer tone than he uses for anyone else 

(Also dodon’t think about him singing her to sleep every night as an infant. Getting up with her in the middle of the night and walking her around the house, singing to her softly till she drifts back off to sleep in his arms)

He would love teaching her things and playing games with her(I totally picture him teaching her boxing in tiny and falling over all dramatic when she lands a hit, lol)

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @universal-travel-er @bo0ghol @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[daydreamerwoah]

Love Through It All Pt. 11

tw: mentions of cheating, mentions of divorce; hurt; angst; anger; rollercoaster of emotion; sadness; arguing; crying; a worried Ghost; mentions of therapy/counseling; heavy drinking; kidnapping sexual content (18+)

Read Part 1 for my author notes for the beginning of this story if this is your first time here.

You could scream, cry, do whatever you wanted... but when the anger subsided, the only feeling that was left was numbness. Numbness from being cheated on, numbness from your past, numbness from the fact that no matter how you felt, you still loved that fucking man.

But with that feeling of being numb, you also felt something completely shift in you. You had thought more about how you felt when you first saw those videos than anything. The confusion, pain, and shock.

The first week you missed the counseling sessions, you thought Simon was going to blow up your phone, asking why you didn't show. But when you didn't receive a single text the entire day, you couldn't help but feel.... muddled. When the chaplain emailed asking if you would be returning the following week, you could only respond that you would when you got ready. The thought of being in the same room as Simon made you worried about what you would say; what he would say.

After two weeks had passed, nothing had changed except you felt like you could breathe just a little. You worried during the first week of your space from Simon that he was going to show up, begging for you to talk to him. Or he'd stalk you when you went anywhere.... but you hadn't heard or seen him since that night. He hadn't called or texted you either.... and for the first time since it all, you groaned at the plaguing thought that would haunt you for the rest of your life - was he with someone else? You knew that staying with him meant you'd always think that... but now that he wasn't hovering over you constantly, it consumed you.

Did you want to suffer through that?

You asked Ava how she even lived with herself every day knowing her husband had cheated, but she only responded with, "Therapy.... lots of therapy, and a bottle of wine every now and again."

It was a joke that made you giggle... but you wanted to ask her why did she stay then. Why did she do that to herself... but what would that do? Like she told you before... it was your marriage, between you and Simon. No one else could or would understand it... no matter how much they thought they knew.

When Ava hesitantly suggested that you go out, you could have laughed. The voice in your ear wondering if Simon would follow you. That night of him fighting Keegan replayed in your mind so much, and each time, you fumed over the embarrassment of it. But she was right... you had been in the apartment for the last two weeks doing absolutely nothing, using your PTO at work to take time off from work. All you did was sleep, wake up to use the bathroom, maybe ate something if you really were starving.. and sleep some more.

So you did... you got dressed and went out.. by yourself. You felt guilty for even thinking about asking Ava to go out damn near every day after she got off of work, even though you knew she would have. You also didn't want her to get involved if Simon decided to show up randomly.

And then, when a month had passed, you couldn't even grasp the fact that you had gone out a lot. Resorting to either getting a drink by yourself or eating dinner by yourself. It felt nice a bit; normal even.... being out alone. You felt truly alone... even somewhat shutting yourself off from the world. It was like the more you drank, the more you wanted to do it. It helped you not think about him.

So there you were, sitting at the bar with one of those dresses that had most men looking at you while you sipped on your fifth martini.

"Seems you're enjoying yourself tonight," a voice with a slight accent said as he sat down.

You turned your head to the left, seeing a man with striking blue eyes and brown hair glance at you. He didn't even hide the fact that his eyes raked over your entire body, stopping at your hip before meeting your eyes again.

You hummed, glancing at his broad shoulders before you looked at his face again. He smirked, making a soft grin form on your lips. He wasn't that attractive.... but for some reason, he did make you slightly blush. Maybe it was the liquor that you drank fast.

"Mind if I buy you a drink?" He asked.

At least he was polite.

You agreed, and he motioned for the bartender over as he told him his drink order and got you another martini.

"Thank you," you whispered, looking down at your empty glass.

"What kind of man would I be if I didn't see a pretty lady sitting by herself without buying her a drink," he grinned, "Now what's a... stunning woman such as yourself sitting in a place like this alone?" he asked.

Even with his smile, he had a certain look to him that both intimated and intrigued you. Not necessarily in a sexual way... but in a way that had you curious.

You playfully scoffed, "I like being alone.... you don't get hurt when you're alone."

His eyebrow raised at your bitter comment, and you were thankful when the bartender sat your drinks in front of you. You grabbed the glass and took an immediate sip.

"Trouble in paradise?" he asked.

You side-eyed him, wishing you hadn't said anything. But you couldn't help it. "Something like that." Another hum left his lips as he took a sip of his own drink.

"Know what you mean...... dealing with my wife cheating on me so. . "

Your eyes widened as your body tensed, and instantly he noticed. His eyebrows drew together a little, "Seem like you know what that feels like." You couldn't say anything. All you could do was take a gulp of the martini, wishing the ground would swallow you up. "With the ring on your finger, I take it as you have a lot on your mind," he observed.

"Yeah.... I do." You glanced at the missing wedding band from his finger, "Do you still love her?" What a stupid question.. a personal one at that. You were asking him questions about his business.

A sour chuckle escaped his lips as he glanced ahead of him, "Yeah.... but I'm too angry right now."

You understood exactly what he meant. You were the same way with Simon. "Do you think you'll stay with her?" you asked as you gulped, like him telling you would provide you with the answers to your situation.

He shrugged, "I don't know... right now, I just want to think about something else," he smirked at you once more, "Like how I'm sitting next to you."

God, you hated how pink your face and neck turned at him saying that. You cursed yourself for drinking those martinis too fast earlier.

"You think flirting will make you feel better?" you teased, earning a chuckle from him.

"Mmhmm. I think it makes you feel better too."

Giggling, you raised an eyebrow as you gazed at him, "You think?"

He downed the rest of his drink while his hooded eyes remained on you, before he placed the glass on the table, "You know what I think? I think you should come back to my room." He bluntly said.

"You don't live here?" he shook his head, "And why should I? You don't even know my name." you joked.

"That's the exciting thing about it, isn't it?"

You hummed... downing the rest of your martini.

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Breathy moans escaped your lips as the mysterious man softly kissed your neck as you straddled him on the bed. All obvious thoughts left your mind the moment you took the last sip of that martini. The world around you was spinning in a slow way. You knew exactly what was going on, but you felt too gone to control anything. It made a twinge of uneasiness flow down to your core when he placed his hands on your hips.

"You're so much hotter than my wife," he breathed out, making your eyebrows furrow together.

Ignoring his choice of words, your hands found their way into his hair, making him moan as he licked on a sweet spot by your ear. You slightly internally cringed at the feeling. It was foreign.

Maybe it was because you hadn't had sex in a while. Maybe it was because you were so used to Simon's touch. Whatever it was, it was making your head fuzzy, and before you knew it, the stranger had you laying on your back with your panties to the side and his head between your legs.

Damn those martinis.

But you couldn't deny that his mouth on you made something stir in the pit of your stomach. And after several confusing and blissful minutes, you were orgasming over his tongue. When you eventually came down from that pleasure, he raised his head, smirking at you as you tried to even your breathing.

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The next few days, you walked around like you didn't know what to do. After you left that hotel room, you called a cab to go home, and the moment you entered the apartment, you ran to the bathroom like someone was chasing after you. You couldn't believe you had done anything with that guy.... but also... you could. You had so much pent-up sexual frustration leading up to the point you were at least relieved he helped solve the issue. You at least didn't even have to do anything back to him.

But in the back of your mind, you were almost worried that Simon would find out. That he would somehow find the guy and kill him. You didn't want to be responsible for someone's death all because you and your husband were going through shit. On the other hand, you really didn't care if Simon found out, though. He probably had been sleeping with another girl already since he hadn't talked to you in over a month.

But the hardest feeling was thinking that at the end of it all.... two wrongs wouldn't make things right. The only thing that would resolve the issue would be to either leave him for good or move on together and try to be happy. Not cheating back on him.

You thought over both of those options as you drove back to the apartment from Ava's. You thought about keeping your secret from her, but she could always tell when something was wrong... and instead of wanting to go to a bar, you opted for going to her house and spilling your guts out about the one-night stand you had.

Was it even called that if you didn't have full on sex?

The only thing she could give you advice on was to really think about what you wanted to do and stop torturing yourself. Leave Simon and move on to stay and move on together.

As you got out of the car and walked the short distance to the building, an eerie silence fell in the air. The slight wind rustling the leaves was the only thing that could be heard, but you were so in your head that you hadn't paid attention to it.

It wasn't until a gloved hand clamped over your mouth and an arm wrapped around your body tightly. You tried to scream, but the moment you tried crying out, a van sped up on the curb, the door sliding open before you were dragged and thrown into it.

"Help!" you yelled, but the door shut just as fast as it opened before more hands trapped your arms and legs. You felt a sharp instrument poke your shoulder, what could only be described as a needle, as you felt it puncture your skin. Your eyes water up from the tears that were about to fall before darkness clouded your vision, and you passed out.

Okay............. I hope you all like this part as a lot of you were waiting for the cheating to happen back lol! I had completely different plans for when I first started this story but again, my mind goes all over the place so here we are lmao! As always like, comment, feedback is appreciated!

Side note: Brownie points on who you think the mysterious man was :)

Taglist: @kalypsoox @fruitymoonbeams-blogz @kylies-love-letter @xrosegoldwolfx @linaaaaa654 @jessicab1991 @darkravenqueen98 @yazyazali @thychuvaluswife @chloeforde @cownini @ssc7514

[chrisbesitos]

Okay heres another Ballerina!reader x Dealer!chris idea:

Reader is WORN OUT from recital practice, but cant rest until she gets that ONE specific part just right (totally not projecting) so shes working on it for HOURS at home (even with the bloody feet, belive me, its a regualr thing) and REFUSES to stop

idk if that makes any sense but yea

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀you're in love

( warnings: angst (a little bit), mentions of blood, cursing, fluff.

( synopsis: chris helps you when things get harder and you can't stop practicing your choreography for the recital.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ꒰͡⠀🩰 𝅄 💸⠀͡꒱

Perfectionism. You always were a perfectionist, at school, at university and at ballet. You have the urge to be perfect and thus fuck with your head, because you don't think you can stop until your good enough. Sometimes it seems like you never will be enough and this hurts, causes not only mentally bruises, but physically too.

Well, you're accustomed to this, because it's how your brain works. Even though the pain is killing you, consuming your feet and legs like a plague. Take a deep breath and keep going, that's what you always says.

It's been hours since you're trying to do a step of your choreography perfectly, but for some reason, you can't do it right. Well, not the way you want to do. Your phone buzzing on the floor takes your attention, almost making you fall in the middle of a pirouette, you groan as you lower down to grab. It was Chris, calling you for the fifth time.

"Damn, doll. I've been calling ya', where have you been?" Chris asks through the phone, you huffs opening the cap of the bottle, taking a few sips breathing hard. "What ya' doin'? I'm fishin' some deals, wanna eat something?"

"Thank you, baby, but now I can't." You reply, holding the phone with the shoulder against your ear. You shift your feet, feeling your fingers sore, you groan in pain. "Shit." You murmured.

"Ya' good, doll?" He asks, concerned about his girl. You nod, forgetting for a moment he's not seeing you.

"Yeah, I'm just practicing now." You bite your lower lip, you need to go back to your training. "Uh, baby, what about you brought us some food? I'll have finished when you arrive here."

"Fine, doll, mind if I choose?" You deny, so Chris okay it and turned off.

You finally could go back to your practice, now putting your phone on the mute. You can't stop more, not even for calls. Chris takes more than a half hour to arrive at your place, you didn't even notice when he gets in. The smell of fresh burgers makes your stomach groans, it's been hours since your last meal, but you didn't realize you were starving until now.

"You still doin' that shit? You said you'll be ready when I get home." He says, putting the bags on the kitchen table, he looks at the living room. The couch was out of his usual place, the tv paused on the song of your choreography and you.

You were kinda a mess. Your hair is tied in a messy bun, strands of hair sticking in your sweat forehead and your cheeks red.

"Did you get attacked by a rabid raccoon?" He chuckles, you roll your eyes ignoring him. Chris raised his eyebrows at her sassy behavior, sipping his soda. "Stop that shit, let's eat."

"In a few minutes, I need to finish this." You say, turning the music on again. Chris sits in the corner of the couch, watching you do your choreography. He smiles, he loves to watch you dance, your delicate movements and the way your body moves, drives he crazy. "Fuck!" You scream, visibly frustrated with your dance, Chris frowned his eyebrows, you were perfect for him. He rested his cup on the ground, lifting from the couch to move towards you.

"What's wrong, huh? You were perfect." Chris says, cupping your cheeks with his hands. Tears were pricking in your waterline from the frustration of failure, Chris sighs pulling you closer to his chest, caressing your back with his fingers. "You're doin' great, babydoll."

"I'm not perfect." You sob on his chest, Chris shakes his head moving you to the couch, he sits and puts you on his lap. He holds your chin, making you look at him with your tearing eyes. "If I stop now, I'll not be good enough." You say, trying to get out of his lap, to get back to your practice, but Chris holds your waist, holding you hard.

"You're good enough, doll. You're perfect f'me." Chris said, cleaning your tears with his thumbs. You sniff with a little pouty in the lips, Chris chuckles cupping your cheeks. "You're the best, babydoll." He kisses your nose.

"I don't feel like I am." You whisper, leaning your head to Chris shoulder, he sighs and massages your scalp. "I'm so tired, my feet hurt." You murmured.

"How about you stop for tonight? Tomorrow I can help you with this." He caresses your thighs through the pantyhose.

"You're gonna dance with me?" You ask, lifting your head with a smile on your lips and your eyes sparkling. You always ask Chris to dance with you, but he always denies.

"Of course no, ma." He rolls his eyes, shifting on the couch with you on his legs. You huff, crossing your arms on the chest, Chris laughed undoing the ribbon from the pointe shoe you were wearing. "I said that I'm gonna help you, not dance with you."

"You're so annoying." You say, removing the claw clip of your hair and putting it aside on the couch. Chris tugged off both of your pointe shoes, gently putting on the ground, he rubbed your feet and your fingers.

"I can leave with this." He shakes his shoulders. "Uh, doll? Your feet are bleeding, is that supposed to happen?" Chris asks with a concerned look at you, he frowns his eyebrows when you slightly nod.

"It happens sometimes, it's okay." You say, caressing his shoulder, you offer him a gentle smile, saying that's everything ok. He rubbed your legs, still worrying about your bloody feet.

"Let me take care of this, 'kay?" He kisses your jaw, gently putting you on the couch.

Chris cleaned the blood from your hurt feet, putting curatives on your fingers, he also put ice and massaged until the pain was gone. He didn't let you walk to the kitchen table, he brought the food to the couch and put on tv your favorite show, he makes sure you're comfortable and good. After finishing eating, he ran you a bath with your favorite products — he's favorite also, because he loves how you'll smell after shower — and he didn't let you move a finger, because he does all the work and you don't complain.

In your bedroom, laying on the bed and under the blanket with all of your stuffed animals on the floor, Chris caresses your thighs with his finger, kissing your lips passionately. Your hands resting on his chest, scratching a bit with your nails, a smile grows in your face when he breaks the kiss.

"You're really not gonna dance with me?" You ask, with a little pouty in your lips.

"Not doin' that shit, go to sleep." Chris says, rolling his blue eyes and lifting to turn the nightstand lamp off. The last sound in the room before the silence was the sound of your laugh, before Chris held your waist and pulled you closer.

he's just a boy in love (but he doesn't know lol) ;)

tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @strnlxlqve @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2

taglist | masterlist

[ashwhowrites]

Could you possibly do a part 2 of the pick me, choose me, love me fic that you did for Eddie x reader

I had a few people wanting a part 2 so I hope this will be a great ending for everyone!

Pick me, choose me, love me part 2

Y/N yawned as she opened her eyes. She was confused at first but then remembered where she was and why. She felt her stomach sink as she thought about Eddie. It killed her to know her best friend betrayed her and she felt sick at the thought that he knew how she felt for months and never said a thing.

She blinked away her tears as she felt a body moving next to her. She looked over her shoulder, letting out a small laugh as Steve's face was buried in the pillows. She rolled over to face him, closing her eyes to try to get more sleep.

Steve started groaning so she opened her eyes. She smiled when his barely open eyes looked at her. He gave her a tired smile, his hair all over the place as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer.

"Morning," he said, his voice low and deep from just waking up. "Did you get any sleep?"

"I did. Thanks for letting me crash here," she said, a sad smile on her face. "Guess I should start figuring out what the hell I'm going to do."

"I know what you need to do first," he said, slowly sitting up. The sheet moved and exposed his hairy chest as he smiled over at her.

"What's that?" She asked, trying to keep her eyes respectful.

"Breakfast" he whispered. He laughed as she pushed his shoulder.

"Just when I thought you were going to be helpful!" She teased. She got out of bed and groaned. "Fuck, I don't have clothes or anything."

"I'll drive you home and you can grab a few things. We'll go to breakfast and plan what you want to do next." Steve offered, and Y/N smiled down at him.

"Thank you, Steve. For all of this and helping."

Steve slipped out of bed and walked over to pull her into a hug.

~

Y/N sighed as they walked up to her door, Eddie's car was up front so she knew she was going to face him.

"You can do this. Just go straight to your room and grab what you need." Steve encouraged. She nodded and unlocked the door.

Steve followed behind her as they walked in. Y/N held her breath as she walked into the living room, Eddie and Kathy were cuddled on the couch watching TV. Upon seeing her, Eddie stood up shocked. Kathy grumbled as her body slumped against the couch.

"Y/N?"

"I'm just here to grab a few things and I'm gone." She snapped, rolling her eyes when she looked at Kathy. She walked to her room and Steve stayed behind. Y/N knew Eddie picked Kathy but it pained her to see that after the huge blowout, he was still right by her side.

"Eddie, Kathy" Steve greeted

"Playing the knight and shining armor, Harrington? I mean how long has she been running to you and she still has no feelings for you!" Eddie smirked

"Let's see," Steve pretended to think, "I think the first time was when you got completely drunk and told her that sometimes you have dreams about marrying her. Oh! Then a minute later, your tongue was down a girl's throat! That was maybe freshmen year? So um since then!" Steve said as he snapped his fingers. "I don't need her to have feelings for me to care about her. It doesn't give me a purpose to be a cocky son of a bitch like you."

Eddie's smirk dropped and he felt anger rush through him. "I've always cared about her. Her having a crush on me didn't change any way that I treated her!"

"That's true," Steve said as he stepped closer. "It's her that changed the way you treated Y/N." He whispered, his eyes looking over Eddie's shoulder to Kathy.

"You're pathetic, Harrington" Eddie growled, "she has never looked twice in your direction and you think that'll change because she's hurting? You'll just be a rebound. You'll never be me."

"You think I want to be you?" Steve laughed, "She runs away from you and comes straight to me. She comes to me for comfort, for love, for support. You fucked up, man. If she wants a rebound, I'll give her a rebound. I'll give her every damn reason to never speak to you again. You got Kathy, you're not the winner here."

"You'd take advantage of her and fuck her?" Eddie growled, shoving Steve's body.

"Be careful there Eddie, sounds like you might be jealous," Steve winked. He loved edging Eddie on. "I'd never take advantage of her, I'm nothing like you."

"Steve, I'm ready to go," Y/N said as she walked out with a bag.

"Yeah, me too," Steve said

"Y/N, can we please talk?" Eddie asked, ignoring the pain he felt when she stood next to Steve and held his arm for comfort. She used to hold his arm when she needed comfort.

Y/N wanted to say yes, but seeing Kathy on her old couch reminded her nothing was going to change and she'd keep getting hurt.

"Nothing we need to say. Once I figure out where I'm going to stay, I'll be here to pack everything up. Enjoy your life, Eddie." She said sadly, tugging on Steve's arm.

Eddie watched as they walked out, a different feeling swarming around his stomach.

~

"I think if I moved a few blocks down, it should still be in my price range," Y/N said, cutting up her eggs.

"Do you really want to deal with that? And you'll have to find a roommate." Steve explained, then shoved a mouthful of waffles in his mouth.

"What else can I do? Staying with Eddie is not an option. He'll probably have Kathy move in so I don't think he'll give me the place."

"Live with me," Steve shrugged

Y/N choked on her water, coughing as she set down her cup.

"You don't want me living with you. I'm going to be a mess with all my emotions and you deserve a break some days," she joked, but a sad reality to her words.

"I'll never need a break from you. You've been staying at my place for years when you need it. The only difference is that it's your place now too." Steve explained

"I don't know. What about when you want girls around? You don't need a sobbing girl across the hall." Y/N argued.

"I want you there," Steve said as he reached over and held her hand. "Give it a chance before you go out and spend all your money. It's a free trial!" Steve joked

He smiled when she let out a laugh. "Okay, fine. I'll be your trail roommate!"

~~~

It didn't take long for Y/N and Steve to spend every moment together. She always felt happiest around Steve and she forgot how good it felt. He always had her smiling and laughing, and it was refreshing.

After a week, Y/N forced herself back to work. She wasn't sure how it would go now that she and Eddie weren't talking. Or at least she wasn't, he still called every day. She was worried he would be sitting at the bar like he always did, she wasn't sure if she could handle seeing him.

"What do I even say? Can I ignore him? Or do I have to sit there and serve him drinks like he didn't break my heart!" Y/N ranted as she got herself ready for work. Steve sat on her newly claimed bed, admiring her as she brushed through her hair frantically.

"Would you feel more at ease if I came with you?" Steve asked, "If he gets out of line, I'll cut in."

Y/N smiled at him through the mirror, "You'd do that for me? I'm sure there's a better way to spend your Friday night."

"I'd do anything for you, doll." He smiled

~

"So, how long are you going to wait until you tell her the truth?" Robin asked, playing with the small umbrella in her drink.

Robin and Steve were sitting at the bar, keeping Y/N company throughout her shift. The bar was busy and packed so she was able to keep her mind off Eddie. And it helped that he still hadn't shown.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, Robin smirked as his eyes stayed on Y/N as she walked through the bar.

"Can you stop staring for a second and talk to me?" Robin joked, hitting Steve's arm.

Steve blinked and looked at Robin, "happy?"

"Yes, and you know exactly what I mean. You can't torture yourself by never telling her you are in love with her." Robin said she could see the emotions changing in Steve's eyes.

"I know and I will tell her. But she's still hurting right now and throwing that on her would be inappropriate. I want her to heal."

"No, you want her to be over Eddie." Robin corrected

"You're a pain in the ass," Steve groaned

"Drinks?" Y/N asked as she leaned over the bar to grab Steve's beer. He coughed as her cleavage poured out of the tiny tank top the bar made her wear.

Robin snickered and Steve was quick to kick her with his foot.

"For you," Y/N smiled as she placed the beer on Steve's napkin, he went to grab it and his fingers gently touched hers. Y/N couldn't help but let her fingers linger before she pulled away. Snapping back into reality as Robin coughed.

"Another one for you, Rob?" Y/N asked politely

"I'm good, gorgeous." Robin winked

Y/N winked back and went to help other customers.

"Do you have to flirt with her right in front of me?" Steve teased

"Let the show begin," Robin said with a smirk as she nodded her head towards the front. Steve looked to the door and there Eddie was walking in.

Steve glared flames into Eddie as he walked further into the bar and took a seat on the other side. Steve smiled when she walked right past Eddie and came to him.

"What do I do? I'm panicking" Y/N whispered, trying her best not to look over her shoulder.

"Want me to ask him to leave?" Steve asked, already standing up

"No!" Y/N said, "I don't need you guys fighting. It's my problem, I need to be an adult and just face him."

"I'll be right here if you need me. Just call me over," Steve said as he sat back down. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you," she said

Robin watched as she left. "He seems pissed. You really get under his skin, don't you?" she asked

"He doesn't like that she realized she doesn't need him," Steve shrugged as he sipped on his beer

~

"Is he your new bodyguard or does he just follow you around like a love-sick puppy?" Eddie scoffed

"What do you want to drink?" Y/N asked, ignoring his comment as she grabbed a glass

"You might not be talking to me right now, but I'm still your best friend and we can work this out," Eddie explained

"Are you going to break up with her?"

"Why does that have to be the only outcome?"

"Not understanding why tells me there's nothing worth working out. If you were my best friend you wouldn't have hurt me while you knew I have feelings for you. It took me too damn long to see that you don't care about me as much as you say you do. You picked Kathy, you get to live with that choice. And when you wake up and finally realize you picked a fake bitch over the girl who actually loves you, don't you even think about me." She spat, slamming down his glass of beer.

She felt proud as she turned around and walked over to Steve

Eddie gripped his glass as he fumed watching her laughing with Steve.

~~~

A few weeks passed and things were changing. The more time Y/N spent with the Steve, the less she thought of Eddie. She was moving on from him and slowly falling into Steve.

She realized it all on a random Sunday. Steve had his friends over for the football game, everyone was cheering and having a good time. Y/N didn't really watch football but she was dressed in one of Steve's jerseys, sitting next to him on the couch. Her legs were sprawled out on his lap, and his large left hand was softly tracing shapes on her bare skin. His eyes were focused on the TV, his mouth running as he talked with his friends. He was occupied by everything around him, but his touch never left her.

There was a knock on the door and Steve got up to answer it

"Hey Y/N," Robin greeted as she walked in with more beer

"Hey girl," Y/N smiled, she stood up so Robin could take her spot. The couch was full and Y/N prepared to head off to her room.

Steve sat down and cracked open a beer, within seconds he was lost in the game. But no matter how occupied he was, he would always know if she was missing.

"Whatcha doing over there? Come sit," Steve laughed as Y/N stood in the hallway

"Robin needs a spot and this is your friend time. I can hang in my room, don't worry about me!" Y/N shrugged

"I can grab a stool from the kitchen!" Robin offered, going to stand up but Steve pushed her back down.

"Nonsense, there is room for both my girls, come here," Steve said as he waved her over

Y/N slowly walked over, she leaned down to whisper in Steve's ear

"I don't want to be rude and make all your friends move," Y/N looked around the couch, all the boys zoned in on the TV and she didn't want to disturb that.

Steve didn't say anything, waiting until she stood up. Once she did, he turned her around and grabbed her hips, throwing her right down on his lap. She squealed in surprise.

Steve wrapped one arm around her and moved up to whisper in her ear,

"This okay?"

The feeling of his hard body against her back, the raspiness in his whisper, his breath tickling her ear, and the way his hand rested on the inside of her thigh made her think of Steve in ways she never had.

"Yeah, it's okay," she said, her voice cracking as she squirmed. Her eyes were on the TV but her mind was busy imagining Steve's hard body in different scenarios.

Ever since then, a crush on Steve formed and kept getting out of control.

~~~

More weeks passed and Y/N was a mess for Steve. She tried to keep it under control, cussing herself out for crushing on all the guys she moved in with. She knew how bad it ended last time and did not want to lose Steve too.

But he made it so hard

It was his birthday and he wanted to go clubbing. So now Y/N was slipping on her tightest dress, with her best heels, and perfecting her hair and makeup.

"Hey, are you re-" Steve cut himself off as his jaw dropped. He stared at her as she finished her lipstick. She stood up and turned around to face him. She shivered at the way he looked her up and down, once again making controlling her crush harder to do.

"Yes, let's go!" she rushed out, speeding past him so she could feel herself breathe again.

They were at the club for a few hours, a few drinks, and a lot of dances. They weren't drunk, but their liquid courage seemed to make them more free with each other. Y/N would never be grinding on Steve's body if she was fully sober. And Steve wouldn't be sucking on her neck if he was fully sober. But the heat between them was too much to ignore, the sexual tension needed to be acted upon, or neither would be able to move on.

So lost in lust, neither remembered how they got home. But it didn't matter as they pushed through their front door with their lips locked. They made out as they walked to Steve's room, pushing open his door. Steve pulled away as they walked towards his bed, she stopped when her legs hit the mattress.

"Is this what you want?" He asked, his chest moving rapidly as he breathed hard. She admired his red lips, loving the way she could see just how hard they were kissing. Then she looked into his eyes, so dark and swimming with lust. She wished she was looking at herself through his eyes because she must have looked beautiful by the way he couldn't look away.

"Make me feel good, birthday boy," she whispered, a smirk on her lips as he moaned. She gasped when he pushed her body against the bed and climbed on top of her.

His mouth was on hers as his hands moved under her dress. She moaned as he teased her cunt over her thin underwear. His long fingers slid up and down, his mouth sucking away her breath as she panted underneath him.

Neither wanted to spend time with foreplay, both early tearing each other's clothes off. He was painfully hard and she had never felt so wet in her life. She was running her fingers through his hairy chest and her other hand scratching down his back. His head buried in her neck as he pushed himself inside of her.

He started slow, memorizing how she felt wrapped around him. He had been dreaming of this for years and he didn't want to rush anything. But the way she moaned, begging him for more, and whispering dirty words in his ear made him want to lose himself inside of her.

"Steve please, I can handle it," she begged. He felt amazing don't get her wrong, but she wanted him to fuck her like an animal.

"I've wanted this for so long, I want to feel everything," he said against her lips, his forehead softly pressed against hers. She smiled at his words, feeling her heart burst.

"I promise this won't be the only time. Show me how desperately you want this, let yourself go," she said, reaching up to hold his cheek

He turned his head to kiss her palm

"Tell me if you need me to stop," he said

The second she nodded, his mouth attacked her chest. She moaned out as he bit down on her nipple, tugging it was his teeth as he drilled his cock inside of her.

"Fuck yes," she moaned, smiling as she felt pleasure running all throughout her body. He was long and thick, feeling like heaven inside her as he fucked her fast.

"You feel amazing, baby," He moaned

His bed was smacking the wall

His balls were smacking against her skin

Her moans were turning into screams

"Make me cum, Steve. Make me cum," she whined, throwing her head back

"Gladly" he smirked, and he slid himself out of her. Giving her no time to whine in protest as he flipped her around. She clawed at his pillows as he pushed her hips up, her ass in the air.

She gasped in pleasure as he slipped himself back inside of her, keeping a rapid pace as he moved his right hand down to her clit. She felt her eyes roll in the back of her head as he swirled his fingers against her clit, adding to the pleasure that was building in her stomach.

"Yes, yes, yes" she chanted like a prayer as she felt herself getting close. Then he slipped out of her again and she wanted to cry. But then she felt his wet tongue pushed inside of her.

She cried into the pillows as he tongue fucked her and kept his fingers rubbing circles on her clit. She didn't have time to warn him, her thighs shook and she felt everything snap.

Steve moaned as he felt her cum soak his face. He happily ate her cum, humming at her sweet taste. He groaned as he felt his cock twitch, he pulled back and pushed himself back inside her wet cunt.

She yelped at the overstimulation, crying into the sheets as he chased his orgasm.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me cum so hard" he moaned

"Fucking," thrust "Gorgeous," thrust, "best" thrust, "sex of," thrust, "my life,"

"Oh my god" Y/N whined as she felt Steve cumming inside of her. She could feel his warm cum painting her walls, every drop inside of him, her cunt milking him until he was empty.

His sweaty body collapsed against her back. He panted as he slowly stood up with shaky legs. She rolled her body over, a blissful smile on her face. Her eyes were heavy as she looked at him through her lashes, his sweaty and toned body standing over her.

He looked down at her in awe

She wiggled her finger to call him closer, he listened and leaned down. She smiled as she leaned up and softly kissed his lips.

~

The next morning Steve was in the kitchen making breakfast, his chest bare and a pair of sweatpants low on his hips. When he moved a certain way he could feel the scratches on his back and he'd hiss at the sting.

He was lost in memory when he heard a knock on the door. He turned off the stove and walked over to the door. He opened it and was surprised to see Eddie.

"I need to talk to Y/N," he demanded

"Hello to you too Eddie, and I don't think that is a good idea," Steve explained, ready to shut the door but Eddie stopped the door with his hand

"I don't care what you think, I need to talk to her," Eddie argued

"Well, she's not here so bye," Steve again tried to close the door but Eddie wasn't having any of it.

"I feel like I can barely walk, Steve. Jesus chr-EDDIE!" Y/N froze as she walked out of the bedroom. Her eyes locked between Eddie and Steve, both men looking mad as ever, but for different reasons.

Eddie felt his heart race as she stumbled as she walked, her words, and the dark marks on her neck. Eddie didn't take long to connect the dots; all he saw was red.

"YOU FUCKER!" Eddie screamed, taking Steve down to the floor. Y/n screamed in panic as Eddie and Steve began to brawl on the ground in front of her.

"EDDIE GET OFF!" Y/N screamed, grabbing his arm and shoving him away from Steve. Eddie stood on his feet, glaring as she helped Steve stand up. She frowned at the little blood that fell from Steve's nose.

"What the hell is your problem!" Y/N spat, turning around as her glare landed on Eddie

"He's my fucking problem," Eddie hissed, pointing his finger at Steve as he seethed in anger. "I knew all along that fucker liked you. Sitting in the corner, being a shoulder for you to cry on so he can make moves on you!"

"Why do you care so much? It's not like Y/N is your girlfriend, Eddie. I'm not in the wrong for going after what I want. You've got your girlfriend to focus on so leave us alone" Steve spat

"Kathy and I broke up"

Y/N whipped her head to look at Eddie, pure shock on her face

"What?" Y/N asked

Eddie looked at Y/N, softly grabbing her hand. Steve held himself back from tearing Eddie's hand off.

"I miss you," he said, his eyes staring deep into Y/N's. "I realized everything too late, I know that. But you changed my life and I'm never going to get over losing you. I should have listened when you warned me and I regret nothing more than picking her over you. I'm jealous, I'll be honest. The idea of you and him," Eddie said as he nodded his head towards Steve with a pained look, "breaks my heart. I thought I was so angry about it because I wanted to protect you, but I know that's not why."

"Eddie, what are you saying?" Y/N gulped

"I'm saying that I'm jealous and angry about Steve because I have feelings for you. I think I always have, it just took so damn long to realize it. I love you and I'm sorry for all the pain I put you through. I want you to come home, and I want to work this out. I want you."

Steve could feel his heart-shattering in his chest with every word. It hurt to see the look in Y/N's eyes. It was everything she wanted to hear ever since she fell for him. Eddie confessed he was in love with her, and Steve had no idea where that left him.

"Eddie I-I" Y/N stuttered, she was honestly at a loss for words

"Just say you love me too," Eddie begged, pushing his forehead against hers, he held her face in place. His rough hands on her delicate cheeks

Steve had to look away, the water filling his eyes as he tried to hold back his tears

"I love you too," she whispered

Steve bit down on his lip as hard as he could, silencing his sobs as his body shook. He did everything for her, he treated her the way she deserved, and he still wasn't going to get the girl.

"But I'm not in love with you anymore"

Her words made both boys freeze

Y/N stepped back, taking Eddie's hands off of her.

"What?" Eddie whispered, a pained look in his eyes as she kept stepping back

"I spent years wanting to hear you say that, but I've never felt loved by you. But Steve," she said, walking over to him. She softly grabbed his hand, "he shows me how much he loves me every day"

"I understand," Eddie choked out

Steve and Y/N watched as Eddie left, the door closing behind him

"So, you've uh liked me that long?" Y/N asked, a small smile on her face as she turned to look at Steve

"Just a bit," he shrugged

Y/N stood in front of him, dropping his hand to reach up and wipe away his tears

"I like you too, you know just a bit," she joked, loving the way he smiled and laughed

"I was preparing to lose you" Steve sighed

Y/N nodded and cupped his cheek, she leaned in and kissed his lips. "You won't. I pick you"

@dreamerjj @lotrefcp @daisy-munson @buckybarnessweetheart @munsongirl97 @mugloversonly @duncanhillscoffeecups

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

[scarlettxnoah]

I just imagine you being HEAVILY pregnant, like a week overdue and absolutely fucking miserable as one would be. You are lying cocooned in Noah’s bed wrapped up in his blankets and your pregnancy pillow he had bought for you early on. You are fed up, tired and your body hurt and you were just absolutely over being pregnant. Prior to being a lump in bed, you had a pretty bad meltdown while Noah knelt by the bed and brushed your matted hair away from your face, listening and comforting you the best he could. He knew how hard this pregnancy had been on your body, and he was so grateful your body could do this for him; giving him a baby that was part you and part him. He dreamed of this life for a long time.

Noah had asked if you were good with him streaming for an hour or so, and all you did was whine out a yes, and roll (trying to lift your body the best you could) to the other side.

You drifted in and out of sleep listening to Noah talk to the people watching. He had always been comfort for you. Even when you were unbelievably uncomfortable.

“Oh no, Y/N hasn’t had the baby yet. I’m not gonna go into too many details but we are still waiting on the baby’s arrival.”

“Oh… uh… yeah she’s actually asleep right now and I don’t want to wake her up.”

That caught your attention as he continued to gush about how amazing you’ve been and how you are taking it like a champ.

“ not asleep” you mumbled grouchily.

He turned his chair and gave you a sweet smile.

“Hi baby, everyone’s asking about you. They are wanting to see you since it has been awhile since you were online.” He said warily, like he was poking a bear.

You grunted as you pushed yourself up and stuck your hands out for him to grab to drag you out of the bed.

He quickly told them to give him a second and hurried to you, grabbing your hands gently and hoisting you up to your feet. You groaned as gravity took over and your baby dropped lower into your pelvis.

Your face screwed up in pain, resting your hand under your belly where the baby was.

“ you don’t have to do this Y/N/N. They can wait”

You shook your head and followed him back to his chair.

“Do you want to sit?” Noah asked, scooting the chair back to give you access to his lap and you shook your head again. You didn’t want the viewers to see you struggle to get out of his lap.

You wrapped your arm over the top of his shoulders.

In all honestly, you looked an absolute mess. A pair of Noah’s joggers sat low on your waist and one of your tank tops that clearly don’t fit you anymore, sat 5 or 6 inches above the waist band of the joggers, leaving your belly exposed. Your face was puffy with bags under your eyes, and tear stains from the hours of crying. Your hair was wrapped in a bun that resembled a rats nest.

Noah stared up at you with such adoration it took your breath away. You looked away from him and to the screen to read the chat and comments were FLYING

“Omg she’s so big”

“ you look miserable! How are you feeling?”

“ is it a boy or a girl”

“ you are glowing!!!”

You leaned your hip against the chair and gave a sleepy smile. Everyone had been so kind to you since it had come out you and Noah were together.

Noah wrapped his arm around your waist, and placed his hand on your big belly, kissing the side of it.

Your heart was soaring. Or always did when you showed affection to your child.

“ okay, okay, you’ve seen her, she needs to go back to bed and get her rest before the baby comes.”

You said bye to everyone and placed a gentle kiss on top of Noah’s head. He grinned wildly as he went back to playing his game.

Two days later your water broke and you brought home a baby girl with thick dark hair just like dad🥲😩

[bohemianblasphemy]

can you write maybe billyxreader where reader finds out he slept with maeve and it bothers them and billy reassures them that it wasn’t serious and he loves reader, and they ask him to prove it.

i love a lil angsty smut ✨

@billybutcherrtrash

Numb.

That was all that you could feel in that moment. The abundance of tension in that room where the Boys had their meeting was so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

Butcher had dropped some intel for their mission to take down Homelander; the superweapon that had supposedly killed Soldier Boy, as well as a small supply of Temp V.

It was however, when he casually dropped the bombshell of how he got this information, which was in the form of sleeping with Queen Maeve.

“Purely transactional, nothin’ else.” He’d grin, before continuing the meeting as if it didn’t mean anything- especially to you.

Billy was a complicated man- He’s determined to get what he wants, even if it meant to sleep with the enemy.

Nothing could have prepared you for that news, the pressure of his words hung on you like dead weight. Uncertainties filled your mind as you thought about the obvious feelings that you and Billy shared for each other.

“Did what we have matter to him? Or was it just to fill in the void?”

It seemed that everyone besides Butcher, who was still yapping away was focused on you and how you were feeling; sending invisible messages of sympathy and pity toward you as you sat there motionless trying to subdue your pain.

Trying to avert your mind to anything else than what you just heard had proved unsuccessful, the image of him and Maeve burned into your brain.

The day was unbearably long, it was too much for you, choosing to feign illness and left for home early. Butcher saw right through your getaway, knowing deep down why you did.

As night fell, your apartment was quiet. Sitting on your small couch as you looked out the window, ruminating thoughts of his ‘transaction’ still fresh in your head.

Knocking on the door snapped you out of your thoughts as you made your way to look through the peep hole, seeing none other than Billy himself.

A part of yourself wanted to tell him to fuck off, the other begging to open the door. The latter of your thoughts won as you opened the door- Butcher waltzing in without so much as an acknowledgement.

“Well yes, of course come right in!” Your voice oozed sarcasm and annoyance as you shut the door. He snapped around to look at you.

“You ain’t sick, i know that.” he grumbled. “talk to me, i ain’t leavin’ till ya do.” You couldn’t help but scoff, crossing your arms as you stared at him- staying silent as you figured out the words to say.

“Why her, Billy?” you choked on your words, not looking him in the eye. “How could you think that was okay to sleep with someone else?” Butchers expression showed regret and annoyance at himself, punching the bridge of his nose.

“Love, it wasn’t serious. It was just for the job- nothin’ more, nothin’ less!” his voice rose. “you know the shit i gotta do for the Boys.”

“just for the job?! are you serious right now?” you echoed his words, disbelief laced through your tone. “How do you expect me to believe that?”

Silence fell over the both of you, surrounded by uncomfortable tension. “You didn’t think of me at all?” your voice cracked, Butcher looking over at you with a guilt ridden expression as he strides over to you- placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Listen to me.” he looked into your eyes, his gaze piercing through your anger. “I. Love. You. only you, you get me?” He looked for a sign in your eyes, anything to indicate how you felt.

He sighed. “Maeve and I… it was nothin’, she means nothin’ to me. Nothing like how i feel about ya. You’re the only one that matters to me, the only one i want.”

Your heart raced at his words, but the hurt you felt in your heart still lingered.

“Then prove it…”

You challenged, seeing Billy’s eyes widen.

“Show me that i am the only one you love.” you stepped toward him, the short distance closed between you.

“Oh I’ll prove it to ya alright…” he murmured, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. Before you could even speak his hand reached to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a bruising kiss.

The kiss deepened quickly, his tongue invading your mouth as he backed you up toward the nearest wall; he hands running up under your shirt and pulling it over your head.

Goosebumps formed along your now bare torso, Butchers calloused hands roaming around your body.

“God you’re just… fuckin’ stunning.” he mumbled as his lips attached to your neck and sucking a red mark onto you, making you purr.

His lips trailed further down as he sat on his knees in front of you you, his digits working on the drawstring on your pants as he pulls them down your thighs along with your underwear.

With a swift movement he turns you around, your chest pressed against the wall. His hands running up your thighs, pushing them apart.

“Bend over f’me…” he growled, his voice laced in arousal. Obeying his word, you pushed your hips backward, hands braced against the wall- hearing him groan softly at the sight before him.

You heard him shuffle forward, his large fingers dug into your fleshy backside. “I can’t get enough’f this pussy…” he whispered as he dragged his tongue along your folds, burying his face between your legs.

The sinful mix of your moans and Butchers mouth moving along you filled the room. Your legs shook as Billy continued lapping his tongue on you, occasionally smacking you ass causing you to yelp.

Your orgasm came quickly, Billy’s hands holding you up as your legs shook from the overwhelming pleasure of his skilled tongue. “God lovey, i could taste you for hours…” he chuckled, gently biting your ass cheek as he stood back up behind you, unzipping his jeans.

“I’m gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good love…” you felt him line up with you, moaning as he started to tease your sopping cunt with the tip of his cock before plunging deep inside of you.

Hot breath invaded your ear as you were pounded into from behind, Billy taking a grip of your hair.

“You feel me huh? you feel how f-fuckin’ ‘ard i am f’ya?” he grumbled, grabbing your hips roughly. “It’s all f’you. no one else but you, ya hear me?”

You couldn’t reply, the pleasure was too overwhelming for you. Rough fingers snaked down towards your middle, rubbing your sensitive clit.

You whined at the added sensation as your second release was near, Butcher nearing his as his cock pulsated within your walls.

Heavy groans erupted from behind you, his fingers moving faster as he felt you clench around him. “Fuck Billy!” you cried out, your body convulsing as your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave. “that’s a good fuckin’ girl, cum on my cock…” he growled in your ear.

His thrusts became sloppier as he came inside you. “fuck… i can’t get over you, my sweetheart…” he praised, turning you around and bringing you in for a passionate kiss.

Pulling away from the kiss he looked you, looking in your eyes - hoping to find a glimpse of convincing you of his love.

Your eyes look at him with a neutral expression.

“As good as that was…” you giggled, moving your mouth closer to his ear.

“it’s gonna take a lot more convincing…”

[owuwi]

NATALIE SCATORCCIO

summary: she can't be into you, so why not distance herself?

pairings: natalie scatorccio x fem!r

warnings: angst, a tiny bit suggestive, detailed description of throwing up, internalized homophobia from natalie

2.0k words

Natalie wasn't into girls. She wasn't opposed to fucking them but she wasn't romantically attracted to them. Or at least that's what she thought until she started seeing you in a different way.

You were the whole package; not only were you easy on the eyes but you actually cared about Natalie. That's why she immediately started to distance herself from you the moment she realized that she was starting to get too attached.

A bit of context here; you were Nat's person. You were the only one who she trusted enough to talk about every single shit that happened to her. You were always there for her no matter what and she even tried to 'return the favor' and be there for you — though it didn't always work but at least she tried —.

You protected her, you defended her and she — grumpily — allowed you to. She'd be lying if she said that it didn't make her feel good, that it didn't make her feel safe, but she simply wasn't ready to admit it. She wasn't someone easy to be around, let alone date, so she thought that avoiding you was her way of protecting you back.

Your friends and even Natalie's didn't understand why you were so persistent about her, why you tried so hard to show people that she wasn't a bitch or any of those terrible things they called her, but you weren't doing it for them, you were doing it for Nat. You needed her to stop being so harsh on herself. Your efforts didn't go unnoticed by the dirtyblonde-haired girl, in fact, it only made her like you even more.

She skipped school today which was something you were already used to, but you were worried about her thanks to the fact that she hasn't been calling you back nor meeting you at your spot — yeah, you and Natalie had a secret place where you would meet each other before school —. That's why you built every ounce of courage and decided to pay her a visit after your classes.

Natalie's house — trailer — wasn't unknown to you but you never actually walked there without her permission. She was always telling you when to show up or not, and it was always at times when she was completely alone. You were obviously aware of the issues she had with her family which is why you never visited her unless she told you to, and you prayed that this visit wouldn't get her in trouble.

You knew she was home alone by the sight of her sitting on the stairs of her trailer, a bunch of light-out cigarets and a pair of empty bottles — most likely of booze — scattered around the pavement. Seeing Natalie like this pained you more than she understood but you knew you needed to be strong for her, that's why you walked closer to her, ready to help her in any way possible.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Natalie, though, didn't seem happy by your presence at all. The slim girl immediately stood up after letting out those slurred words, her voice as rough and deep as always.

You knew she was just drunk and payed no attention to her sharp tone of voice, instead, you took a deep breath and approached her even more. There was an odd tension between the two of you; the air suddenly thickening around you, the sounds of the trailer park muffling as your feet moved towards the girl.

"I asked you a question." She spoke again, looking at you with a mix of confusion and discomfort in her gaze. The way she was staring at you was enough to send shivers down your spine, a look you've never received from Natalie before.

Making her mad was definitely not going to be a good thing, especially not when you were trying to get answers for her startled behavior. "I was worried.." Is all that managed to come out of your mouth, your voice sounding shaky and stuttered. It was obvious that Nat was drunk — you could now smell the alcohol on her breath due to how close she was —, hence is why you understood that she wasn't in her right mind.

The girl in front of you simply scoffed, a cold, raspy noise coming from the back of her throat and slipping past her cut-clad lips. You'd be lying if you said you've never thought about kissing them, about feeling them pressing against every inch of your body. Though right now wasn't the moment to be thinking about that stuff, it was almost as if Natalie could read your mind; her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she stares at you.

"Leave me alone, don't you understand that i don't want you close to me? Or are you so fucking stupid that you can't realize something as simple like that?" She quickly asked again, but you could see the way her bottom lip was slightly trembling while she looks at you.

"What's going on, Nat? Why are you acting like this?" You couldn't help but to ask your friend, shifting even closer to her, your words dripping with serious concern and affection — which was definitely not helping her with her mixed feelings —.

Natalie wanted nothing more but to yell at you, to punch you until you were a bloody mess on the pavement, but she couldn't. There was never a violent — hell, not even a negative — thought about you in her mind. For her, you were perfect; an angel sent from heaven to keep her safe. Despite how fuzzy her head was due to all the alcohol and cigarets she had, you were all she could think about.

That's why she grabbed the collar of your shirt and crashed her lips against yours, so roughly that you swore your lips were going to bruise. It was a quick kiss, though messy and filled with anger, it wasn't enjoyable. You couldn't even kiss her back, your hands hovering over her sides but not fully resting against them. What were you supposed to do? Natalie kissed you like some sort of rabid animal — grunts slipping past her lips — and you could taste the cigarets and licor she previously had.

She pulled away some moments later, allowing her forehead to rest against your own, and everything was quiet for some moments. "Because of you... why can't you fucking see that?" She rasped out, her eyes slowly fluttering open to look at you.

There was an evident hint of lust in the girl's gaze but there was something else; a hint of fear glimmering in her eyes. You knew she wasn't doing well yet you couldn't bring yourself to say anything, you were paralyzed — her taste still lingering in your tongue —.

"I can't do this shit... you know that.." She continued talking before closing her eyes and pushing you away — which caused you to stumble back a bit —, acting as if you were the one who kissed her. She then ran her fingers through her ruffled hair, clearly trying to hold back her emotions.

Despite still being quite in shock, you knew that you needed to say something before she dugs herself further into this messy hole. That's why, after taking a deep breath and really thinking about your words, you speak up; "Y-You're... too drunk. Let me help you, please.." You weakly muttered out, offering her a small, almost shy smile before gently reaching out to grab her hand.

Now, Natalie was definitely not a touchy person. She actually hated to be touched — always flinching whenever someone got too close — but you were different. You were you, and she would always allow you to do whatever you wanted with her — though she wouldn't say it out loud —. So seeing the way she roughly slaps your hand away and then takes a step backwards hurt you more than you thought it could.

"Don't—...." She trailed off, looking at you with parted lips for a moment before lightly shaking her head side-to-side and then turning around. She sat down on the edge of the stairs once again, resting the back of her head against the door of the trailer. "Don't touch me.." She managed to continue her sentence, looking up at you like a kicked puppy.

Her eyes were red and filled with un-shed tears, her body visibly shaking, and you knew that was going on in her head. She needed her person right now — she needed you — and you could tell. Even though she was going to complain, you simply sat down next to her and then let out a sigh. You couldn't look at her, you were confused. Did Nat liked you? Did she wanted to be something more than just friends? Or was it the booze in her system? Millions of thoughts were racing through your mind until the sound of her voice snapped you back into reality.

"My uh... m-my dad's gonna be here any time soon... you should leave.." She warned you, looking over at you through hooded eyes, a hint of concern hidden in her words. Despite everything, she still cared about you.

"I'm not leaving you... especially not when you're like this." You quickly protested before bitting down on your bottom lip. An idea crossed your mind, an idea drunken-Natalie wouldn't enjoy, and you knew it was the right thing to do. Before the dirtyblonde-haired girl could say anything, you spoke again.

"You should come with me, you're in no state to see your—... dad." You then added, your voice cracking with nervous and even hesitation. There was a glimpse of anger noticeable in the girl's eyes for a moment before she looked away from you, her face turning into a wince before she threw up on the pavement.

You immediately grabbed her hair and hold it up for her, using your free hand to slowly rub soothing circles on her back — the fabric of her t-shirt soaked in cold sweat —. Natalie Scatorccio was probably the most stubborn person you've ever met, yet you hoped that she would allow you to help her in this moment.

"Please, just—... make it stop.." She weakly stuttered out, not being able to stop the warm liquid slipping past her lips. Natalie liked the effect of being drunk but she absolutely despised the consequences; puking and then being hangover the next day. The way she was acting like a little kid was only breaking your heart even more.

"C'mon..." You simply indicated before helping her get up, ignoring the putrefying smell of her vomit. You've helped Natalie during moments like this plenty of times yet you never truly realized how messed up it was; how fucked up it was.

The drunk girl was literally shaking, her body seeming much smaller than it ever did, and she was weak. She would never admit it but she was weak; she was so weak that she could barely walk on her own. If it wasn't for you, she'd probably be passed out on the cold floor, waiting for the inevitable to happen.

The next hours were a blur for the two of you; you managed to get her into your car and drove her to your house. Your family were — thankfully — out of town so you had your house to yourself. Natalie was mumbling nonsense under her breath the whole time you helped her into your place, you assisted her with brushing her teeth and even bathed her. In another time, another moment, the pair of you would've joked about this; you probably would've crack a joke or two, but this was different. Nat was barely conscious and she wasn't herself.

After giving her some fresh clothes, you lied her on your bed and she immediately passed out.

It was until midnight where she roused and she couldn't help but to break, tears rolling down the pale skin of her cheeks like a cascade. You obviously woke up yet you didn't say anything, you simply wrapped your arms around her figure and she allowed you to — she was so weak for you —.

With her head on your chest, she eventually calmed down, her lips parting to mumble out some simple words. "I'm so—... so sorry.."

[la2yn0va]

Yo! Can i request some Yandere high cloud quinlet (together) x male reader, that has a habit of not caring at all for his life? Like the reader despite having a good reputantion and has one of the highest potential within the cloud knights. His powers/techniques foes harm to his body. (I Dunno if you seem jujutsu kaisen when Megumi summons Mahoraga, that summoning him cost the user his life? Well put the reader in a similar situation)

CW: Yandere characters, Suicidal(?) Reader

——

“Why are so intent on worrying us?” Dan Feng said as he healed your body with some strange vidyadhara technique. “Whaat? I’m not dead, and I’m pretty sure some random Mara-struck soldiers ain’t gonna kill ME” M/n had refuted, which seemed to tick off the high elder.

“That’s not the point! I’m talking about your technique!” He heaved out with frustration. M/n sighed and rolled his eyes, not wanting to hear the same speech he’d been hearing since he started. Dan Feng looked even more frustrated, grabbing his ear and harshly pulling and pinching

“Owowowow! Fuck!! Wait—!!” “Don’t get sassy with me m/n. This is serious!” He said, not hiding his frustration. M/n continued to yelp in pain. “Okay okay!! You’ve made your point!! Owowowow!!!” Just then, baiheng and Yingxinq walked in seeing Dan Feng harshly disciplining m/n.

They watched with mixed reactions, wanting to step in but also wanting to discipline you for, once again, getting them worried. “Have l?! I seem to remember ‘making my point’ to you repeatedly!! And yet you STILL go on and repeat your previous actions!!” He got increasingly more frustrated and pissed. However, before it could escalate, baiheng and yingxinq stepped in.

Yingxinq stopping Dan Feng and baiheng taking care of m/n’s hurtting ear “Calm down Feng. I’m sure he’s learned his lesson” “Don’t be a fool Yingxinq! How many times have I, Jingliu, and Jing yuan repeated this lecture with him and he has yet to take us seriously!”

“You okay sweetie~?” Baiheng said quietly, not missing the chance to get herself in m/n’s good side. He nodded and was immediately met with a slap on his nape “OW!!” “Are you trying to give us a heart attack!?” She said with worry, before he could respond, Yingqinx left a slap of his own.

“OW!! It’s a force of habit okay!? Plus, it’s not like—!” “What’s going on in here.” A colder voice sliced through m/n’s words. M/n froze as he saw jingliu walking in with jing yuan. “Good luck m/n” Yingxinq said as jingliu immediately walked angrily towards m/n.

“H-heyyyyyy jingliu…….. h-how’re you?” He nervously smiled as her red eyes glared into his. “Ahaha…I-I’m doing good to! I just came back from killing of monsters of the abundance—” “Did you use your technique?” She said, knowing the answer.

M/n stayed silent, nervously laughing and looking around to avoid the question. Jingliu had seen enough, harshly grabbing his other ear that wasn’t assaulted by Dan Feng’s wrath earlier and tugging and pinching his cheek “OWOWWWWWW!!!!!” He yelled as Jingliu DID. NOT. Hold back, making sure to dig it into his thick skull of how unacceptable his actions are.

“Are you actually this fucking dense!? How many times do I have to discipline you boy!!” She didn’t give him time to respond, her strength increasing by the second and managing to make his tear up slightly “OKAY OKAY I GET IT!!” “I DONT THINK YOU FUCKING DO!!”

Jing yuan and baiheng stepped up, both saving m/n from jingliu’s increasing wrath. “Calm down master. There’s a far more appropriate punishment then physical punishment” “Silence jing yuan! M/n needs to be reminded HARSHLY how—” “Let’s just.. hear him out jingliu” Baiheng’s reasonable voice managed to calm jingliu down.

“M/n. As General of the luofu, I’m banning you from the battlefield” “WHAT!!?” He yelled, the pain immediately being neglected as he stood up. Yingxinq keeping him from walking up to Jing yuan and throwing a punch.

“Until you grow out of this habit and change your technique, I will not allow you to rejoin the battle ground, and you WILL be arrested on sight” Jing yuan repeated with seriousness and authoritatively. M/n looked around, seeing that everyone was in agreement with this. “Your fucking kidding!” “Come on m/n. This is a reasonable reaction” “Yingxinq, you can’t actually—!” “I don’t see anything wrong with it” Baiheng interjected.

M/n growled lowly, clearly annoyed before walking away, only to be stopped by jingliu’s hand and Dan Feng’s tail. “Your not leaving our sight” Dan Feng said as m/n struggled against their grip, before giving up, deciding to try and escape later “Fine…”

-The End-

[thezombieprostitute]

The sheriff likes how you always got a pie baking in your window. He likes that every time he sees you, you got your apron on. He likes that you smile and wave at his cruiser. He likes all the way you make him shift in his seat.

The only thing he doesn't like, is that you're not waiting at home for him.

Summary: Lee has regrets to deal with and decisions to make.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Depression, Thoughts of cheating, Unhappy marriage. Please let me know if I missed any!

Lee's made a lot of decisions in his life that he regrets. He'll swear up and down that he had only the best of intentions when he signed up for the police force. When he decided to become sheriff. But no one knows better than him how far his morals have fallen.

But not being your man was the biggest regret of his life.

To become sheriff, he needed financial and social support. The kind he could get from her family. He courted her, got on her father's good side, eventually marrying her. He honestly thought that's all love was, that that was the purpose of a marriage. Now he's got all the resources he needs to keep his position, barring his sister royally fucking things up for him.

But then he met you.

Him and his little family were making an appearance at the local auction to raise money for the church. People brought a bunch of homemade goods and foods. Sometimes it was simply pine cone crafts that really did look pretty. Other times it was Granny Russell's special chicken livers. Lee always thought only an idiot would turn down that specialty.

But then you showed up, with a stack of pies.

You were something to look at, Lee was sure no one could deny that. But you were also so sweet. He was certain your kindness, patience, couldn't be real. No one was that sweet all the time. You were too new to the town for him to really know well, but given how the people who did know you reacted, he could imagine you were worth knowing. He made sure to buy one of the pies you'd brought, intent to use it as an ice breaker. He'd figure out your angle, how you could play so nice.

But when he looked into your eyes, he was a goner.

He's never seen such beautiful, kind eyes. He swears they were sparkling. For the first time in his life, Lee was tongue-tied. His wife had to subtly elbow him in the ribs to stop his staring. He definitely got an earful that night before sleeping on the couch. The entire time you were talking to his wife, his kids, he felt at a loss. Like there was something more to life than status. His wife set him straight, though.

But he kept seeing you around town and the feelings kept coming back.

You were always busy with your baking. Always kind to everyone. Always waving at him and smiling. He feels in his bones that you should be his. That you could give him the actual warmth that storybooks about love had promised. Not the performative care that he and his wife did for each other. You'd genuinely enjoy spending time with him, with the kids. Not complaining about a "life wasted" like his wife.

But cheating or worse, a divorce, would kill his election odds.

Every day he can't be with you hurts him. He takes up drinking to try to ease his misery until his wife dumps all of his bottles, citing the upcoming election. The people aren't gonna vote for an angry drunk. Lee thanks her, honestly thanks her, and it catches her off guard. If he can't have you, he's gonna try to do better by his own wife. Maybe it'll help ease the pain of not having you and your natural sweetness in his life.

But then Hal Carter comes to town.

He's a tramp, everyone knows it. He's a drifter working in different towns as he tries getting to some friends of his further south. He claims to have a college degree but Lee doesn't want to believe it. Hal is young, strong and, according to all the old ladies at the church, very helpful. Everything Lee is not. Hal hasn't stopped showering you with attention, attention Lee knows you deserve.

But it should be Lee making you happy.

Holy wah, that got away from me! This was not supposed to go on so long!

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly

[impala-dreamer]

Before The First Light

A Supernatural Story

~ With Michael pounding away in his head, ready to break free at any moment, Dean realizes he has no other choice but to do what Billie says and lock himself away forever. He hadn't planned on telling her, hadn't planned on a goodbye, but Y/N wouldn't let him leave without one more night...~

Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester

3,126 Words

Warnings: Angsty Angst. Kissy Kiss. Saddy Sad. 

A/N: This was a commission and I def made myself cry a bit. Please give it a reblog if you read it <3 

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

She wasn’t quite sure she’d heard properly.

Something about a box and being buried in the deepest part of the ocean. Something about Dean locking himself away for all eternity to ensure that Michael stayed captive. Something about choosing everlasting torment instead of fighting, instead of looking for an answer. Something about leaving them all alone, leaving her alone.

When Mary called, Y/N hadn’t been far. She had been ‘borrowing’ a text from the library at Luther Seminary in St. Paul, something old and illustrated in gold foil. A book that Castiel thought would help. As soon as she heard the worry in Mary’s voice, she pointed her little Toyota towards Hibbings and pushed the gas pedal to the floorboard.

She stood now, silently staring into the barn; her small frame illuminated by the glow of sunset behind her. Sam and Dean were arguing, standing on either side of a large metal coffin. It was crudely made and inlaid with hand-formed sigils. The bitter scent of fading gas and burning metal hung in the air. The struggle in both of their tones struck her first; their words only becoming clear after the shock settled.

He had found a way to lock Michael away forever.

Moreover, he’d found a way to kill himself without actually doing it.

Y/N held her breath and clutched the doorframe. She knew if she moved, she’d fall; if she spoke, she’d break down.

“I won’t be talked out of this! I won’t…”

Dean’s voice hit her like a truck. Her chest ached and her stomach churned. She exhaled and bit back a cry.

Amazingly, Sam was silent. She could only see his back, but his tiny movements made it clear that he was unhappy but stuck between a mountain and a hard place.

“I’m doing this. Now, you could either let me do it alone,” Dean said, dropping the frustration and pleading with his brother. “Or… you could help me.”

She wanted to scream. At Dean or Sam, she couldn’t work out, but something needed to be said. Something needed to be done to stop him, change his mind, and slap some sense back into him.

“...But I’m doin’ this.”

Still, Sam was silent.

Y/N watched from the gap in the wooden door, awed by the way Sam seemed to give in. He shook his head slightly, looked away, and then back. He took a breath, his shoulders rising and falling as the decision formed in his mind.

“Alright.” His whisper was pained and Dean closed his eyes, letting go of a heavy sigh.

Y/N snapped.

She yanked open the door and glared at the Winchester idiots. She was shaking; blood rushing in her ears like a jet engine. With a quivering lip, she let out a roar twice the size of her petite frame.

“Alright?!”

Sam was startled, all but jumping out of his skin.

“What the fuck do you mean, alright?”

Dean seemed to curl in on himself. He hadn’t expected to see her, hadn’t even wanted to tell her what he had planned. He looked at her, sadness spread across his handsome face. “Y/N-”

She trembled in the doorway, her hair wild and glowing with the golden dregs of dusk. Her faith darkened like the sky.

“What is wrong with you!”

Sam turned to face her with wet eyes and a hopeless expression. “Y/N, it’s not-”

She took a step inside, body propelled forward as if it meant to strike them both down. “Don’t you dare say it’s not what I think. I know exactly what the fuck this is, Sam!”

She looked at Dean. His eyes were dry but tired. She knew how exhausted he was, how hard the last year had been for him. The possession, the release, the back and forth, and now- Michael pounding away in his skull like a thousand battering rams. Her heart broke for him and yet, she couldn’t hold back. “How could you?”

Her voice came out like a sick whisper, full of spears, aiming at the very core of him.

He flinched. He shook his head gently, unsure of how to tell her all the things he needed to. He wasn’t prepared for this, wasn’t ready - or willing - to say goodbye to her.

“How?” she asked again, tears breaking free and spilling down her face. They glistened in the final rays of sunset while she waited for an answer.

Dean looked down at the box. He ran his fingertips over the top and closed his eyes. The first task was done and he was resolved to see it through to the next. He just had to keep himself from cracking, from splitting open as he looked at his brother and his love. He had to steel his heart, and stay the course.

His hand curled into a fist.

“I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t look up at her, couldn’t manage more than a meager, breathy reply.

She laughed. It wasn’t funny, but she laughed. “You’re sorry?” Her hand fell from the splintered wood. “You’re sorry. You’re gonna do this and you’re sorry. We have watch you try to kill yourself - again - and you’re sorry.”

Again, his lips parted but nothing came out. There was no defense he could give, no reasoning that would make her OK with any of it.

Y/N grit her teeth, dug her heels into the creaky wood floor. She waited, silently begging him to say something- anything.

He looked up at her through thick lashes, his chin dipped low and his hands stuck on the lid of the coffin.

Anger and fear stormed in her chest and she shook her head, giving up.

She met Dean’s eye and frowned. “Fuck you.”

He didn’t even react. He knew he deserved it.

She turned to leave and Sam spoke up, his voice crackling with his own frustration and pain.

“Y/N, wait-”

Her head snapped back and she glared over her shoulder at him. “Oh. And fuck you too, Sam. Goddamn coward.”

The driveway was made of loose gravel and the month had been dry. Dust billowed under her sneakers as she ran from the barn, from reality, from him. She wasn’t really leaving- she’d never be able to fully walk away from him- but she knew if she stayed in that barn, she’d end up burning it down.

She heard him following. The rocks crunched under his boots and his breath was heavy. Crying while running wasn’t good for him.

She stopped a few feet from his car.

That goddamned Impala and the man driving it had changed her entire life, and she wasn’t about to change it again. Not this way. Not by losing him to a fucking box.

Dean caught up but she moved again before he could reach for her. His hand fell in the space she created between them.

“Can we talk about this?” he asked, voice gritty and low.

Y/N dropped her head and kicked at the gravel. “I don’t know, Dean. Can we?”

He took a step closer. “I want to.”

Spinning to look at him, she crossed her arms over her chest, symbolically keeping him away.

He was silent for a moment, unable to begin or even decide where to.

Y/N clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Well?”

Dean dropped his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t start that crap with me.”

“What crap?”

She sighed. “That puppy-dog, teary-eyed, apology crap. I don’t want it. It’s bullshit.”

He tensed. “It’s not bullshit.”

“If you’re sorry then why go through with it?”

Dean looked away and caught his breath. “You overheard us in there. You know why.”

“No.” She dropped her hands to her sides. “I want to hear it from you. I want to hear that you think the only way to save everyone- like always- is to sacrifice yourself.”

Frustration curled up his spine and Dean grit his teeth. “You can’t- it’s not that fucking simple, and you know it.”

“Oh?” She stood back and clenched invisible pearls at her throat. The fight was brewing, hot and fast. “Please, Dean, tell me what I know.”

His lips hung open slightly as he thought better of speaking and making things worse.

“Allow me,” she snapped. “I know that you’re always right and I’m just some nerdy, useless book worm that you keep around to keep Sam occupied when you don’t wanna do any work.” Her voice grew loud, her words clipped and harsh. Her hands flailed in the air between them. “I know that you’re this old, experienced man and I’m some idiot little girl who doesn’t know shit about shit. I know I’m just a fucking bootycall that happens to occupy a room near yours.”

He flinched with every word. Slow, unrelenting tears streaked down his stubbled cheek. She didn’t want to see them, didn’t want to watch the salt water leak down and disappear into the dust and rock beneath their feet. She didn’t want to feel sorry for him; didn’t want to let go of her anger.

She couldn’t ignore it, couldn’t see past the redness in his eyes, the way his lips turned downward.

Her heart broke again and again with each breath and every tear that fell.

“I know that… you’re going to fucking kill yourself because you think you’re weak.” Her volume fell, her voice cracked. “You think you’re going to fail and the world will end.”

Dean closed his eyes tight.

“You think that everything that goes bad in this world is your fault.”

He pulled in a shaky breath.

“You feed on guilt, Dean. You drown in it.”

Green eyes opened, found hers in the dim light.

“You don’t have to.”

“I do.”

His confession was barely a whisper, floating towards her like a lost feather. He was sad but resolute, unyielding in his plans.

She took a step closer, bent her ear his way. “What?”

“Guilt,” he echoed. “I do have to live with it. Because it’s mine. I did this, and I’m the only one who can stop Michael from breaking free.”

Y/N shook her head. “Why? Why like this? Because some fucking reaper who has been Death for all of five minutes says you have to? Why would you trust her?”

Dean laughed bitterly and swatted at the wetness on his cheek. “Why would she lie?”

“Why wouldn’t she lie?”

He turned away but Y/N grabbed the open flap of his flannel.

“Hey! Don’t fucking do that. Don’t walk away. Not this time.”

Dean exhaled hard and came back to face her. He closed a hand around hers, keeping her fingers locked around his shirt, not letting her go.

“I have to do this. I have to. And if you can’t understand that, then-” He shrugged. “Then I don’t know what else to say.”

Y/N bit her lip and nodded as she looked down at the ground. Night had fallen while they quarreled and the only light around them was the yellow glow coming from the house. Sam had shut the light in the barn when he left, giving them time alone to do what needed to be done.

When she looked back up, she was crying. Heavy, hot tears lined her eyes, and Dean sucked in a quick breath at the sight.

“I can’t let you do this,” she whispered.

“You’re not letting me do it,” he said softly, squeezing her hand. “I… I don’t care if you like it, or you agree with it. It has to happen. It will happen.”

Her lip trembled. She shook her head. “No…”

“Yes.” He went on, speaking slowly without a hint of indecision in his tone. “It will. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry you had to find out like this. I should have been better to you. To Sam. I… I should have been better at everything. I should have been stronger. But this is what it is.”

Y/N grasped for any new idea, anything she could say to keep him with her. “What if we find something, what if Rowena… or Cas-”

“They’ve looked.”

She thrashed against him, trying to rip her hand away. “What if we find something and we can’t get you out! You’ll be trapped and we can’t get you out!” She pelted his chest with her fist, desperate to make him listen. “What if Chuck comes back and-”

“Stop it, Y/N.”

“What if he comes back and can fix it again like with Amara! He could do that!”

He grabbed her other hand, halting her attack.

“Stop it,” he breathed, trying not to hurt her. “Y/N, listen to me.”

“You’re the one not listening! Dean!”

She tugged her arms back, but he held her tight, dragged her closer.

“Why would you do this?” she sobbed, twisting in his grasp. Her wrists burned but she struggled all the same. “Why! You can’t! You can’t leave us!”

Lost and exhausted, Dean dropped her hands and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her against his chest. He locked his arms around her back, crushed her into his warmth, refusing to budge or let her loose.

“Shh…”

He kissed the top of her head.

“Shh… please…”

He rocked slowly side to side, soothing her as she splintered like a tree struck by lightning.

“Dean-”

“I know.” He kissed her again and loosened his grip. “I know.”

She pulled back and stared up at him, unable to speak, unable to think. The whole world was shattering around her and all she could see was him.

Tiny hands moved up his chest, clawing at the buttons, bunching up the black tee beneath.

“Dean…”

He felt the touch like the strike of a match and bent to kiss her lips.

She breathed into him and then pulled the air right back. She wanted the oxygen they needed to be the same; wanted a moment of connection before he was gone forever.

Dean needed it too. He came alive as his hands roamed her body. He dug his fingertips into soft flesh, pawed at her breasts, licked deep into her mouth.

Y/N backed up as he advanced and leaned on the cold metal of the Impala. Dean caught up quickly and tore at the thin shirt that covered her. She tugged it away; tossed it into the dirt.

“Please don’t leave me,” she whispered as he lifted her up, her lips shoved against his ear. “You can’t…”

Dean moaned as she spread her legs and let him slide between. She kissed every inch of his face, every freckle that she could see. He melted into her; fire and ice, anguish and lust fighting inside of him.

She licked at his lips; he snuck his hand into her jeans.

She nibbled at his ear; he moaned and rocked against her.

She clung to him like letting go would kill her.

He memorized her body so he could carry the touch with him until the end of time.

“We should go inside,” he croaked, breaking away enough to look down into her beautiful eyes. Strands of hair fell into her eyes and he swept it away. “It’s getting cold.”

Y/N dropped her hand down his body, her eyes following suit. “Don’t want to,” she confessed, her voice deeper and tinged with goodbye. “Not yet.”

Dean sighed, his soul heavy, his mind a mess. He cupped her face, holding her between his big, warm hands. “What am I gonna do with you?”

He’d asked it a thousand times before in jest, but this time it felt different. This time it hurt.

Hooking two fingers behind his belt, she tugged him forward an inch. There was hardly any space between them, but she needed what was there to shrink away.

“You can give me tonight,” she said sadly. “You can give me one last night before you go.”

He kissed away the tear that slid down her cheek.

“OK.”

The backdoor creaked open like it always did; the springs in the back squeaked when he lay down.

Y/N stood in the open air, stripping slowly while he watched from inside. Head propped up against the window and long legs stretched out over the bench seat, he stared at her silhouette. Haloed by the soft glow from the house, she looked like an angel- soft and beautiful and so perfectly made for him that his heart ached.

He reached for her and she slipped inside, climbing onto the worn leather and closing the door behind her. She sat on his thighs with her bottom lip snagged between her teeth and her hands on his stomach.

“You can still change your mind, ya know.”

Dean lay his hands on her legs and caressed the soft flesh of her inner thighs with his thumbs. He was unblinking, unyielding; certain.

“I won’t.”

Y/N nodded gently before falling down to kiss him again. If this was it, then she wanted to remember every second. No more talking, no more tears. Nothing but hungry lips and searching hearts, Dean and the rising moon.

It was cold in the car but they kept warm. They slept in each other’s arms, just a simple roll over from falling off the seat. Dean held her close and Y/N counted each beat of his heart. She realized sadly that one day her own heart would stop and his would still be going, kept alive for eternity by the Archangel trapped inside. She would be dead and Dean would live on and on forever, locked in torment until the universe collapsed and reality disintegrated, and maybe not even then would he be allowed to rest. Michael could keep him as long as he wanted, perpetually frozen in time even as time wore on.

She’d be dust and he’d be flesh and blood.

She’d be a memory and he’d be in his self-made hell.

He was sleeping so soundly, she didn’t want to move, but she had to go. There was a pain in her chest that expanded with each breath, a hole inside that grew with every second that she stared at him.

Carefully, she slid from his arms and out into the morning air. She gathered her clothes and grabbed the keys to her little Toyota.

She glanced back at the house, at the barn housing Dean’s final resting place. Sam would help him, she was sure. Mary would talk some sense into him. But she couldn’t stay. She couldn’t watch him go, couldn’t bear to see tail lights fade into the horizon.

The sky was changing: black to indigo and on to pink.

Y/N backed down the gravel driveway and was gone before the first light.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Can we get more wolverine polycule??? Theyre so cute for her

"Way to go, champ," Wade said, kissing your nose. "Knew you could do it, did it feel good?"

"Yeah," you manage, snuggling into the warmth that's offered. Tomorrow you'll be sore. Tomorrow you'll be limping at work and you'll just tell people you tripped on a rug. But that's not a right now problem. Right now you're sleepy and warm, tangled up with two walls of muscle keeping you pinned to the bed.

Behind you, Logan laughed softly and buried his face in your hair, "You did good, Princess. Do you want Ice?"

" 'm okay, Lo," you murmur. But despite your protests, you find yourself laying half ontop of Wade, your head on his shoulder with Logan'warming lotion in his hands.

"Can't have you miserable tomorrow after you fucked us both stupid today," Wade reasoned, stretching lazily as he met Logan's eyes over your head.

They could go again. Few more times. But. They could do that tomorrow while you were at work- it had been... a while since you'd been able to come play with them like this. The pain made you tense and the tension made you think and the thinking only made it worse. The more tense you were, the more painful it was to even have sex. You'd blow them if they wanted, sure but. They liked this. Their girl in their bed. Satisfied and not just sitting on the sidelines.

Logan worked down your back and hips, smirking when you sighed. "That's it, pretty girl," he coaxed. "Took such good care of us-"

"You did most of the work," you point out.

"Soul-sucking blowjobs are work," Wade put in.

"Did so good you shut Wade up. Fucking miracle worker," Logan snorted, popping your backside affectionately.

When you don't answer, from your spot face down on Wade's chest, he pushes hair out of your face and grins, "Out cold," he said.

"Good," Logan rumbled, kissing the back of your neck and pulling a sheet up over you. "Gonna need her beauty sleep." He laid down on your other side and threw his leg over you, effectively pinning both you and Wade in one place- where he'd know if you got up. Where he'd know you were safe.

"Breakfast in the morning?" Wade asked, stretching.

"Sounds good." It was better now. You smelled right. Like them. Tomorrow's problems were tomorrow's problems. Right now, nothing was wrong. The feel of your bodies were imprinted on him properly and it felt right.

_____________

When mottled arms wrapped around him in the shower, Logan hummed, "Where's Y/N?" he asked.

"Showered, dressed, and fucking baby sitting," Wade whined.

"Babysitting?" Logan growled, "What the-"

"For not fucking liking her her sister is really quick to drop off her fuck trophies at the ass crack of dawn," Wade sulked, thudding his head against Logan's back.

Logan growled, "How'd I not hear-"

"She met them downstairs. Kids slept on the couch for a bit while she hosed off all that sweet sweet-"

"So much for breakfast," Logan grunted.

"Yeah. She took them out already. Guess she figured if she fed and walked them they'd be easier to wrangle. Cute kids. Less bitchy than their mom."

Logan snorted. He'd see about that. He also wondered if their parents knew you were fucking BOTH the men you lived with. You tended to avoid telling your family anything you didn't have to.

By the time they were done fucking around, dressed and out of the bedroom, you were back. And in full 'Cool Auntie' mode. Clearly, this might not have been an expected visit, but it didn't take long for Wade and Logan to notice the near hero worship on the faces of the three boys who were sprawled on the furniture and playing with Mary.

"Listen, Homie," you're telling the oldest, "I got you you first date and I have pictures that can ruin your life, don't test me."

"No you don't," he scoffed.

"Oh, oh honey," you laugh, "I took you to your first comic convention dressed as a tiny baby Hulk-"

He visibly paled and you grinned, "I got pictures that can ruin your mama too. So. Try me if you want to but remember. We existed before Life 360."

"Hey, Shush," the middle kid asked, looking up from his phone, "what was it like when dinosaurs roamed the earth?"

Wade snorted when you mimed throwing a plastic cup at him, "I dunno, Peanut, what was it like?"

"Fuck you, Wade."

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Misdemeanor Of The Heart (Chapter 15) Human!Alastor x Married!Reader)

Chapter Trigger Warnings: Rape

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Prev Masterlist AO3 KoFi

The high pitch whistle of air passing between Laurence’s lips cut through the air, ripping through what little peace you could cling to. He always whistled while dressing, especially after having taken his pleasure from you. It didn’t matter that you lay trying to will your heart to stop beating in your chest as wetness trickled down your thigh.

That wasn’t different in the slightest, but this morning, things were different. You were sobbing, for one. Though you tried to stifle the sound, bunching blankets up to shove against your mouth as you lay crumpled on the bed with your legs tucked against your chest. 

This morning, you had fought him. Why, you couldn’t say. Though, as his wife, you had no right to deny him your body, you had told him ‘no’. That meant nothing to him. It meant nothing to him when you screamed or when you pushed at him as his much larger body enveloped you. It meant nothing to him as you clawed at his chest.

For Laurence’s part, he was sure that today was going to be a good day. He had plans, big ones for the day. He had woken up hard, eager to fuck the day and looking over at you, he found you making the loveliest sounds in your sleep. Little whimpers that sounded so much like the sounds Emma would make as he kissed her neck passed through your lips as your eyes moved under your eyelids.

It was only right for him to start his day buried inside his wife’s cunt, Laurence decided in that moment. With you asleep and making those sweet noises, surely you were dreaming about him, about your want for him. Laurence knew he would push your nightgown up and find you welcoming to him without the pressure of society’s propriety you seemed to exist living by. 

You woke with a start as he slotted his. Burning pain ripped through you as he pushed inside, hips jerking into you. Each brutal thrust forced himself deeper, ripping open your core. 

A scream tore from your chest as he forced himself deeper, not relenting at the resistance your body put up. The sound wasn’t long lived as Laurence’s hand clamped down over your mouth. He glowered down at you, bright blond hair lit up by the morning sun. He had to hold his hand over your face as he fucked you, sealing the breath in your lungs and stifling your screams as you clawed at him.

He had almost lost track of time as he fucked into you while your struggles grew weaker, but he caught himself just in time. The moment his hand lifted from your face, letting you breathe, you gasped in a breath and forced it to not leave you in another scream. 

“Honey?” Laurence went to your side, running his hand up and down your bruised arm softly, as if he could wipe away the lingering marks his hands had left like they were little more than marks on a chalkboard.

 He’d been so good to you lately, so distracted- the marks were mostly green and yellow, healing with the passage of time as spring took root. It’s a shame you had to take all that kindness and patience he gave you and turn around and fight him over your wifely duties. 

“You’re overreacting.” He said softly, as if your tears were over nothing more than a broken earring. 

“I’m sorry, Laurence.” You whispered the words, trying to hold your breath to control the flow of your tears. All it did was remind you of how it felt to have his hand over your mouth and nose, lungs fighting for small gasps of air as you struggled under him. 

“You need to stop fighting it,” Laurence ran his hand over your hair, smoothing it down as he sat on the edge of the bed. The way he spoke reminded you of a parent lecturing their child about the need to take medicine. “You’re my wife. It’s your job to see to my needs. All of them.” 

“I know,” you whimper, forcing yourself to submit to his touch. It had been harder and harder to allow him to couch you, as you’d spent more time with Alastor. It wasn’t right, you knew that. Laurence was right. It was your duty to allow him to touch you.

You needed to do better so that he wouldn’t hurt you. 

“Honey, I’m not going to be home tonight. That’s why I had to have you so bad. I’ve gotta leave town for a meeting. It’s a big deal and we’ll be set for the year if I close it. Get you that clothes washer you wanted. Would you like that?”

“Yes, Laurence.” Your throat was so dry, it felt like you were speaking through sand. 

“I’ll be home tomorrow for dinner, alright?” He leaned down and kissed your temple. The trembling in your body froze at the contact. It wasn’t comfort that stilled you. 

“Alright.” You whispered, feeling muscles cramp as your body struggled to remain still. It didn’t matter that he had already had you, that he had already hurt you. 

Alastor sat in the cafe, cup of strong coffee in hand as his eyes skimmed over the newspaper. Bright lights lit up the shiny polished tile. It was a far cry from the warm and comfortable cafe he had spent much of his childhood in but it was the world he had fought tooth and nail to step into. 

That didn’t stop him from fighting to maintain the smile on his face. The morning had been less than ideal, with a board on the porch snapping under foot on his way out the door. It wouldn’t be a difficult repair, but he wasn’t looking forward to it either. 

The fact that his latest body was on the third page and some other half bit sloppy killer was on the front page had him in a sour mood. It wasn’t the first time this other person had stolen his spotlight, but at least this time they were reporting on the bodies as the acts of two separate killers. 

Alastor had been expecting to start his morning off with an early call from Laurence and been right. Now he was stuck waiting for the one man he cared to see least in the moment to join him. 

The individual stealing his spotlight could have at least made themselves useful and taken out Laurence for him. Then Alastor wouldn’t have to sit and spend his morning waiting for the fool to show up.

He glanced up at the sound of someone approaching his table to see it was just the man he was waiting for. Alastor set his paper down, article on the latest body found front and center, proclaiming to the world that they were no closer to catching the person responsible, as he stood. 

“Laurence, a pleasure to see you again,” Alastor lied, holding his hand out. As was expected, his business associate clasped his hand and shook. Today, Alastor resisted the urge to crush the lesser man’s hand again, but the temptation had nearly won out.

“Likewise, Alastor.” The other man spoke through gritted teeth, “Shall we get down to it?” 

Alastor motioned for the other man to take a seat across the table from him. He didn’t return to his seat until Laurence did so, taking the moment to tower over the blond man, to remind him of his place. Laurence was to be looked down upon. He was below Alastor. 

“I’ve got your payment.” Laurence pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket and slid it across the table. 

Alastor eyed it for a moment, letting it sit where Laurence left it. He took a long drink from his coffee before finally setting the mug down as he picked up the envelope. He didn’t bother being discreet. Rather, he made a show of counting the bills inside, ensuring the agreed upon payment was there in full. 

“I’m glad to know you managed to make the payment,” Alastor said, slipping the envelope into his pocket jacket pocket, “Considering your firm lost the station contract.” 

“Just a minor speed bump,” Laurence assured him, though Alastor could see the way the other man’s jaw ticked, muscle jumping as he clenched his teeth. 

“Of course.” Alastor’s smile pulled wider across his face. 

The phone rang mid morning, startling you out of your thoughts as you scrubbed the bathroom tiles. You hesitated for a second as you walked by Laurence’s office door. There was a phone receiver in there, but you were not allowed to enter his office. 

With a shake of your head, you made your way downstairs and picked up the receiver in the hall. There was no reason to dwell on how much more convenient it would be to be able to answer from that phone. 

“Hello?” Silence stretched on as you waited a few moments before repeating the word.

“It’s me,” Alastor’s voice filled your ear as he spoke softly, “Is he home?” 

“No,” You found yourself leaning against the wall, mindful to keep the pressure off your still healing ribs as found butterflies fluttering around your stomach. Your heart was giddy at the sound of his voice. “I’m alone.”

“Do you know when he’ll be back?” Alastor asked, no longer whispering. Static crackled over the line, fading in and out, but that didn’t stop the smile spreading across your face. 

“Tomorrow by dinner.” You felt scandalous to be telling an unattached man such a thing, but he was safe. Alastor wouldn’t hurt you. It was safe to confide in him. It was safe to talk to him. 

Perhaps that’s part of the problem, a voice in the back of your head whispered, but you ignored it. The last thing in the world you wanted at the moment was to listen to the vile logic of that voice. 

This was the only thing you had for yourself in your life and you were determined to cling to it, cling to him as long as you could. It was innocent, anyway. Society wouldn’t understand your friendship, but that didn’t make it anything more than it was.

“So you’ll be home, all alone, all night long?” Alastor’s voice purred across the line, the same tone you were sure he used to catch the attention of any woman who caught his eye. 

You feigned a mock gasp before giggling, “Alastor! What are you implying?” 

Alastor’s suave purr melted into a warm laugh that soothed away the aches in your joints. “That you may need to come out with me. I know a joint, good music, good drinks, good dancing. What do you say?”

“Somewhere that you know? Would it be safe?” You chewed on your lip as you listened to his chuckle. 

“Do you trust me?” He teased. “If you do, meet me in our alley.” He asked, and you trusted him. With hardly a doubt, you did. 

You wore your best dress, not that it was up to style. The deep green color and glittering beads contrasted with the vibrant red of the cloak you secured around your shoulders. The sun was setting, lighting up your home with the warm golden glow that was unique to mornings and evenings as you applied your lipstick.

If you didn’t hurry, it would be dark before you got to the alley. The cover of darkness would be useful in hiding your identity but brought its own dangers, dangers you were not sure you were brave enough to face alone. 

One last look in the mirror brought a smile to your face. Most of the bruises were hidden, covered by powders, creams or bangles. If you kept the cloak on, no one would see the fading bruises on your arm. If Al was taking you somewhere with drinks, dancing and music, you wouldn’t be able to get away with not shedding it. No one would care to notice them, even if it was bright enough inside to see them though, if music was playing, drink flowing and lights dim. 

Never in your life had you wanted to look as nice as you did tonight for him. Even as you were primped and polished for your wedding day, you hadn’t been too concerned with your appearance. 

It was better that you didn’t think about it too carefully. It was better that you didn’t consider what it could mean. You deserved a night out. You deserved to have a friend. There was nothing wrong with what you were doing. 

But… you hoped he would find you pretty. 

“Mimzy?” Alastor called into the dimly lit lounge. It was early, and she was far from opening, but he had a key. She was prone to losing hers, misplacing it for days at a time, and he would have to come to her rescue. 

“Al?” Her voice came from the back. “What ya doing here so early?” 

“I’ve got a favor to ask you,” he was shouting across the lounge, knowing there wasn’t anyone to overhear them. 

“What ya need?” She called back, glancing over her shoulder as he drew closer to where she was unpacking crates of liquor into a box hidden under the floorboards. She had a few spots to stash excess supply, had to be sure she could open right back up if she got busted. 

Women didn’t get thrown in jail for running shows like this. Whatever lad she currently had on her arm this season would take the fall, as they always did, and she would get off by batting her pretty blue eyes and acting like she knew nothing. 

“Use of the side storeroom for the night?” Alastor took a few bottles out of the crate and passed them into the box Mimzy was stuffing. 

“That room is full of boxes and crap,” Mimzy only glanced up at him as he put another bottle down into the straw filled box. 

“We can move all that. I’ll help.” 

“Why that space?” Mimzy stood up, dusting her hands off while he closed the box and began replacing the boards. 

“It’s just got a curtain,” Alastor slipped one board into place and then the other before picking up the crate and carrying it to the next hiding place. “We’ll be able to hear the band better, see them a little too.” 

“What are you planning?” Mimzy rested a fist on her cocked hip. 

“I’m going to bring her here tonight,” Alastor said as if it was nothing. “He’s going to be gone until tomorrow, and left her behind. Can you believe that?” 

“What I can’t believe is that you’re wanting to do something like this for your latest little hobby.” Mimzy rolled her eyes, but the sass did nothing to wipe the smile from her face.

“She’s just lonely, needs a friend.” Alastor rolled his eyes back at Mimzy as she started pulling up the next set of boards. “You didn’t see the way he left her- all over some flowers.”

“You gave a married woman flowers, knowing how Laurence is, and were surprised how it turned out?” Mimzy looked up at him from where she knelt, eyebrow raised, “Men like that are mean at best.” 

“That it turned out as badly as it did for her? Yes.” Alastor gave Mimzy a pointed look, “Didn’t you say I needed more friends, more company and to be less isolated? I’m only doing what you told me to do.”

“But carrying on with a married woman wasn’t what I meant.”

“And when did you become the paragon of propriety?” Alastor let out a breath, sending a chunk of hair that had fallen into his face off to the side. 

“Alastor, don’t be like that.” Mimzy huffed, “You know I don’t give a shit if someone’s married or not. I’m not above spending an evening with a married man. But I worry about you, that’s all.” 

“You needn’t worry about me, my dear.” Alastor patted Mimzy on the top of her head, ignoring the scowl etched across her face. 

“Of course you can use the room.” She answered, an exasperated sigh paired with the relaxing of her furrowed brows. 

With the added pair of hands, they could unpack the crates much faster than Mimzy would have alone. That worked out just fine for Alastor, leaving him plenty of time ahead of opening to get the small side room emptied. For that task, he didn’t have the benefit of an additional set of hands, though he had expected as much.

Mimzy watched, drink in hand, as Alastor moved boxes and crates, stacking them in different side rooms. There wasn’t much order to where he put things. Much of the boxes and crates held things that belonged to the landlord or things she was storing for this person or that. 

Her speakeasy had not always functioned as a bar and lounge, but she improvised with what she had. With the nature of her business, it wasn’t really in per power to demand an empty space from the landlord. Storing other people’s junk earned her a few extra pennies a month, too. 

“You sure about this?” Mimzy called as he walked a small table into the enclave behind the curtain. 

“I’ve got it under control, Mimzy. I’m just having some fun before I end Laurence.” Alastor called, “Start bein on the watch for a new supplier.”

“And how you going to do that?” She watched as he made his way back for two chairs.

“I’ll see him into bankruptcy. He’ll be so shamed he has no choice but to divorce his pretty little wife and then I’ll take her from him too.” 

“You think that’s how that works?” Mimzy laughs. “Men don’t just let go of their wives when they go broke, Al.” 

“He won’t be able to provide for her,” Alastor walked by, glasses, tablecloth and a candle in his hand while Mimzy’s eyebrow rose. “I’ll buy him off and poof. I’ve got a romantic cover so people can stop yapping.” 

“And that requires a date in my side room?”

You looked both ways before tugging the red bowl hat down just a little more before you turned into the alleyway. Your alleyway. Your place, as Alastor had called it. It wasn’t safe for a woman to just walk in an alleyway. To steal moments of time with Alastor, it was worth it to take these little risks, though. It was more and more worth it as you spent more time with him. Peeking in, you saw the dark mass that you hoped was his car. 

“Hey,” Alastor’s warm voice came softly from just under the cover of the shadows, far closer to the mouth of the alley than you had expected. “I wanted to make sure you made it to the car alright.”

His hand, covered with a dark gray leather glove, reached out from the darkness, inviting you in. Each moment that passed drew the darkness tighter around you while the sun sank lower below the horizon line. You looked both ways, finding no one paying you any mind at all as they scurried home to their dinner. With one last deep breath, you let Alastor take your hand and pull you into the darkness with him. 

“Good Evening,” you whispered. 

“I’m glad you made it safe,” Alastor’s voice was soft. He leaned into you as he tucked your hand around his arm, confidently leading you through the near total shadows. “Forgive me for not picking you up directly, as a gentleman should.” 

“It wouldn’t have been proper, it would have looked-” you tripped in the darkness but the hard ground never came. Alastor’s arm reached out, catching you and holding you against his side, mindful of your still healing broken ribs. 

“Be careful,” he said, “And it would have looked like exactly what it is.” 

What did he mean by that? 

Alastor parked his car behind a large brick building. Technically, it was the side, but the back door was where everyone else would go in. The side door function as the back door to Mimzy’s joint, Alastor had explained. The front door was boarded closed, not having been used in as long as he had known her. 

You stepped out of the car after looking for anyone that could see and may recognize you and tell the world of your sins. Darkness fell, night chasing away twilight as Alastor drove you to the heart of the city. It always amazed you how quickly the day could give up its grasp to night. 

Alastor wasted no time tucking you into his arm, hiding you against his towering frame as he shut the door behind you. His presence was a rock you clung to through the rushing waves of fear and guilt. Again and again, as you allowed him to wrap you in his arm the way a lover would, you tried to tell yourself that this was just friendship. 

You were doing nothing wrong. 

Tucked against him, you walked with him to the door that looked clearly unused in the dark. Light from the street lamps, recently switched to electric as so many things were now, reflected off the dull metal that was full of dents and scratches. There were warning bells screaming in your mind, telling you that you had let yourself get talked into a dangerous situation. 

How well did you really know him?

There was a serial killer on the run. While they usually took men, it wasn’t unheard of for a woman’s body to be found, chunks of flesh or whole limbs missing. You tried to focus on the warmth of him, the arm holding you nestled against his side as the door opened to darkness. 

Alastor was safe. He wouldn’t hurt you. Your mind was just running away with you. It was just the guilt. Alastor had done nothing to make you fear him. There wasn’t anything wrong. He had been a perfect gentleman. You convinced yourself that you were worrying about nothing. 

Alastor flicked a switch just inside the door, and electricity buzzed to life. Overhead, a few lightbulbs flickered before building brightness but most came to life instantly. It didn’t light the space particularly well, but it allowed you to see. 

“What is this place?” You asked, stepping closer to Alastor, taking shelter in his side. Your fingers wrapped around his jacket, letting the feeling of the rough wool ground you. 

Alastor chuckled, letting his arm trail from around your shoulders. His palm ran across your shoulders and his fingers trailed down your arm before he let his fingers just hook into the palm of your hand as he stepped away.

The thunder of your pulse in your ears was deafening as you looked up at him questioningly. Was he really doing what you had thought he was trying to do? Holding hands was something young courting couples did, not the male friend of a married woman. 

But sneaking out into the night with their male friend behind their husband’s back also wasn’t what married women did. 

You let his fingers slip into your palm, wrapping your fingers around his hand as his smile brightened a little more. He said nothing of your acceptance of him, but it was written clearly on his face. 

You loved him, you realized, and whatever you were doing with him was far from innocent. But that was alright, you told yourself, as long as it stayed just like this. As long as it stayed your little secret, was it really any worse than the wives whose heads lived in clouds formed by romance novels hidden behind their cook books?

He pulled you through the sea of boxes, dust swirling around him as he lead the way, reflecting the dim light in a sea of sparkles. It made him look warm and inviting, a sin you told yourself it was alright to just get a taste of.

“It is just through the storeroom,” Alastor said as he pulled you along, unaware of the vision he was in your eyes or the warring realizations in your head and heart. “I didn’t want anyone to see us, so I set up a surprise.”

No, this wasn’t right. You needed to stop whatever it was you were doing with him. It was going to lead you to damnation, to ruin. And you would, you decided as he looked forward again, letting you shamelessly take in the way his fluffy hair moved with him. 

You would put a stop to this but, what harm could come from just one more evening with him? You were already there, hand in his and music building as he led you through the sea of boxes. 

What’s one more evening?

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"The Test." Part Two. Sugar Daddy AU. Poly!Ghostface X FEM! AFAB! Sugar Baby Reader.

Part one here! Hey, hey, hey! Here it is part two! Picking up RIGHT where part one left off! So this is basically all porn, so happy to be finishing this behemoth! So I might add onto this in the future if people want it, there is still the rest of this three day weekend to go over! Feedback very much encouraged on this one! Thanks for reading and enjoy!

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 7.6K. Billy Loomis/Stu Mach/Sugar Baby FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Age Gap. Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby Relationship. Sex Work. Restrained Reader. Tit Slapping. Nipple Play. Pain Play. Knife Play. Blood Play. Vaginal Fingering. Edging. Orgasm Denial. Vaginal Sex. Anal Sex. Blow Job. Throat Fucking. Extreme Kink. Double Penetration. Multiple Cream Pies. Dirty Talk. Praise. Degredation. Aftercare.

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Billy felt a thrill run through him. This was unbelievably exciting, so far, this is everything he’d been wanting, all he’d been hoping for. He and Stu both looked at eacdoh other, even though he couldn’t see the eyes of his long term best friend, he knew he felt the same. Giddy, alight, ready to really dive in. A deep breath to compose and really ready himself. 

You wait, but you aren’t left questioning for long, the hand that isn’t holding the knife comes into view, he palms the now obvious clothed erection so close to your face, so easy to see with how your head is currently tilted. “I think we are going to put that mouth of yours to work.” 

The robe is hauled up, and his belt is open, he isn’t in a rush but also clearly he wants to get inside you after all this build up, zipper comes down, then he is exposed, thick and hard, hanging right there, close enough to feel the heat radiating off of him. 

You open your mouth and try to appear somewhat reluctant about it, a valiant attempt to mask the strong desire to have him in your waiting mouth, you manage it well, to not show the excess of saliva that pools or the want in your eyes from the prospect of getting him inside. You want to please them, play your part of the unwilling victim. Your eyes are locked on the bead of pre-cum at this tip, you want to taste it.

“Mmm, can’t you at least try to look a little happy about it?” The question makes you scoff, you fight back the urge to roll your eyes and instead, while keeping your mouth open, you quirk up at the sides. A nearly comical open-mouthed smile forms from the action that in response makes you feel this wash of an emotion that is surely a cousin of humiliation, it also gets minor praise from him, “Better.”

It hits your ears right before, he shoves his cock into the orifice with such brutality it makes even you, the experienced paid slut for hire, gag. It isn’t the hardest you’ve ever gagged, yet there is still a particular kind of force behind it, your body rocking away before making yourself roll forward, taking him deeper, to the root until your lips wrapped around the base. 

He holds, staring down at you, the bulge of himself buried in your throat apparent and crystal clear, if he reached down and squeezed he could feel the pressure of his fingers through the walls of your neck for sure. As it stands at this moment, he doesn’t do that, the knife is still pressed to your throat after all. The view is spectacular, combined with the sensation, it is enough to make his breath stutter, and you can hear it from behind the mask. 

Slowly, he pulls out before bucking his hips forward again with a quiet curse, “Fuck.”

That one exclamation does absolutely everything for you, the cadence of it, you are able to hear the heavier breathing, both sides of that word almost bracketed by a moan. He starts to get into a sporadic rhythm, it is hard to keep track of when he is going to jam himself in or retreat, but you are trying to anticipate his needs, stay on top of it and please him as best as you can, you are doing this to save your life, right?

While you are distracted trying to work with him, move your head, take him as he pushes forward and pull back when he does so you can sneak in breaths whenever he isn’t lodged in your throat, you are assaulted with another sensation leaving you floundering to contend with. 

What sensation is that? The light touch of leather gloved fingertips on the tops of your thighs, they move, patterns being traced that you can’t keep track of before they slip between your thighs and then part them, spreading your legs, exposing yourself. You can feel drool slipping past your lips, running down your face, gravity helping pull the wetness on its way, you still keep up, but barely as finally fingers touch you where you are soaking and aching. The touch is gentle in comparison to how brutal your mouth is getting fucked, one hand palms you carefully, fingers press but don’t penetrate, they rub but not where you wished they would. The first hand shifts, spreads your lips open and then the second joins, thumb dips slightly into your hole collecting slickness before tracing up, circling around your already swollen clit, and you stiffen, moaning around the intrusion between your lips. 

“God, that feels good.” The cock is forced deeper into your throat, “Again.” 

The pressure increases and the circles get smaller, the feeling becoming more intense, and you moan again, louder, whimper a little at the jolt of pleasure that overtakes, and this is how it goes. One between your thighs, touching and rubbing your clit, the other fucking your mouth with abandon until you feel lightheaded from the lack of proper oxygen, trying to breathe while blowing and getting pleasured like this was proving to be impossible. You swallow thickly, trying to manage the excess of spit you were producing, and it was as if they planned it ahead, the timing of it is perfect. Right when you swallow, the first one pushes his hips forward, the head of his dick breaching the tightness of your throat mid-swallow, and the one between your legs? He slips two fingers into your leaking hole, his thumb pressing on your clit all the while. You gag and your walls clench around his fingers, the drag of the leather of his gloves feels much better than it should, his thumb is swirling around and around your clit, your hips buck, wanting to get more of the sensations he was foisting upon you.  

It becomes a blur of trying not to choke on spit or the dick in your mouth as you are catapulted to the edge with alarming speed. The push and pull of the entire act, the heightened emotions from the scenario at hand, all of it, has you near cumming, your body betrays you, tightening, getting more tense and trembling slightly, almost, so fucking close and right before you can tip over, before that first wonderful spasm can start, the fingers are ripped from your hole, leaving you dangling. Your hole is grasping, clitoris throbbing, both silently calling out for something to push you over and finding nothing. Your hips squirm and you whine around the dick in your mouth, if you were able to pout around the thick shaft, you would have.  

“Stop hogging her mouth and let me have a turn.” The voice cuts through the lustful haze, it sounds playful but with an edge that mirrors the knife being held to your throat. 

“Fine.” He grunts before pulling out of you, your eyes take a second to adjust, managing to catch the sight of the wet leash of your saliva still connecting him and you break as he moves back, the blade lifts off of you as you suck down a series of deep breaths. You don’t have time to try and regain some sense of yourself as you are spun on the smooth, polished table-top with ease. Now you are reversed, confronted with the man who was just fingering you, glove still wet as he hauls his robe up and starts opening his pants. 

You wish that your hands weren’t tied and pinned under you right now, you wanted to reach out and tug him close to you, wanted to taste him the moment that second cock was revealed. Patience was apparently wearing thin, pointer finger and thumb at the base of his shaft, near neatly trimmed coarse hair, he guides himself into your open and waiting mouth. 

The moan of satisfaction was so arousing, you swear to God above you feel yourself get wetter. 

“Fucking shit-” He gasps as he thrusts experimentally and the other one hums in response, “Right?” 

There is less than five thrusts into your mouth before you feel a hand between your legs again, two fingers thrust unceremoniously into your hole, you clench, body tenses, you had backed off from the edge, but you were still incredibly sensitive. His thumb presses to your clit but doesn’t rub, the fingers fuck in and out, the pressure combined with the lack of movement of his thumb is killing you viciously, it isn’t enough, you want movement, more friction. However, you are drenched, the wetness is a comfort and a curse, makes for fluid and smooth work, but it also dulls the feeling slightly. The butter soft leather is lovely, sure, but it isn’t what you need right now. His fingers curl, he finds what he wants and he abuses it liberally, he curls into the firmer, rougher tissue causing you to moan, your eyes squeeze shut. His thumb doesn’t move a single centimetre, he drags you to the edge with his middle and ring finger working at a steady pace, up, up, up and there you are, so fucking close you can almost taste it and he stops. Doesn’t even take his fingers out because of the risk he might accidentally trigger it, he just holds, you are throbbing around him and he waits for the edge to recede before he starts again. 

You groan, much more focused on the intrusion in your cunt than the one in your mouth, you had fallen into a good rhythm with that, mostly letting him do what he wanted, take the lead, do what he wished the same way his partner in crime was.

Surviving the next two edges was equal parts blissful and terrible. He worked them out of you quickly, you, of course, let him without putting up a fight, just moaning mournfully around a mouthful of cock.

You wonder if you can get away with it, with grinding your hips up without him protesting, could instead put forth the effort to rub your clitoris on him instead of waiting for him to rub it that last pass needed to make you cum. If you timed it right you could make it happen, push yourself over, steal that much coveted orgasm out right from under him, because who knows if they had plans to let you cum tonight at all. If you do that, make yourself cum using him before he is ready for you to? Who knows what he will do. 

Should you risk it? You swallow around the cock shoving its way into you, inching further and further down your throat, once more your head spinning with want, so fucking close, you are nearly there, his fingers feel incredible. You are buzzing with pleasure, you could always blame it on the lack of proper oxygen, so with that thought you do something stupid.

You move. 

Hips squirm, arching up and then coming back down, the slip of him, of the firm pressure sliding up your clitoral hood and then back down fully over your clit makes you cry out, walls gripping a bit tighter, and that is as far as you get. That knife is put against your hip, your eyes are watering slightly with the effort and severity of the throat fuck, a sharp inhale through your nose, shoulders shuddering as you jump from feeling the cold steel against heated flesh. 

You feel your pussy fighting it, trying to go over the edge, his thumb was barely touching you now, had eased way up, so the contact was extremely minimal, his fingers inside you still and straight, not even curled, not pressed into the spot you needed and slowly, agonizingly, you feel the orgasm slip from your grasp. You didn’t time it correctly and you missed your chance. 

His voice slices through the air as easily as his blade would be able to do your skin, “Try it again. See what happens.” 

An invitation. You hesitate, obviously, fearful of hurting yourself. He pushes, “I mean it, if you want to cum that fucking badly you’d do it, hm? Trade a little bit of pain for some pleasure.” 

You make a sound of question that makes the thrusting into your mouth falter, he pulls out over halfway, just the head of his dick resting between your lips. He joins in, encouraging what the man threatening you between your legs, was suggesting, “Yeah, I want to see it, unless you want to wait for a cock in the other end of you-” He laughs as he slides back in fully, deeply, you gag and he pulls back out almost all the way, “-you aren’t cumming any other way. And you should see how cruel he can be, the stamina on him? He’d be content to fuck with you like that for hours.” 

Your eyes widen in disbelief, hours? He could and would edge you like this for hours? You had barely made it halfway to ten, no way could you make it through hours of that particular brand of torment. You whimper, partly from the situation, partly because those fingers inside your wet walls stir, slow, counterclockwise, stretching you, and you decide fuck it, you can’t hold out. You rock your hips, conveying your consent and they seem pleased by this, “Good. C’mon, put on a show like you did earlier in bed, yeah? Show us how bad you wanna get off.” 

The reminder of their voyeuristic tendencies makes your cunt clench again. 

The cock pulls out of your mouth and slaps your cheek wetly, “Hey, don’t forget about me.” He inserts himself back into your mouth, just the head, and you give a small nod. You lick and suck at the head of his cock as his gloved hand proceeds to slowly stroke his shaft. 

He praises you, “Good girl.” 

Hearing that in that voice? Christ, you wouldn’t take long. The fingers inside curl again, his thumb closer again, and you get to work. Your feet are up on the table, knees bent, you roll your hips, arch up and down, squirm and writhe, rubbing yourself to your hopeful end on his fingers, using gravity to help, pleasing yourself both inside and out. You are very, very aware of the knife, it is to your hip, over the bone, and you find with every movement, there is a small spike of fear, wondering if this will be the pass he presses it the few extra ounces of pressure needed to make that first cut. 

Suck, lick, tongue swirling around the tip, flick, gasp, moan appreciatively and closer and closer you get to the edge. “God, you are such a fucking slut, you just couldn’t get away fast enough before, so confident, wanting to run off down the beach for help and look at you now.”

He sounded a mix of joyful, condescending and mocking all in one, “I’m not doing a damn thing, this is all you, I mean Christ look at you! Slobbering all over my buddies dick and fucking yourself on my fingers.”

He exhales amused, “This isn’t even enough to deter you-”, he taps the knife on your hip and it makes your legs jerk, your cunt grasps at his fingers and he laughs, shocked and delighted, “Oh! See? I think it’s more than that, you actually fucking like it.”

You try to shake your head, try to protest that isn’t true but the one whose cock you are currently worshipping isn’t having it, he smacks your left breast, the pain is sharp, he pinches your nipple next and says harshly, “Get off that high horse of yours sweetheart, you are just as fucked as we are but don’t worry we like it!”

“Yeah, we do, we like to take good care of our toys.” He hums, you hadn’t stopped moving your hips, hadn’t stopped trying to satisfy yourself, your movements are getting sloppier, messier. “Oh, look at you, getting close again, hm?”

You nod, your mouth is uncoordinated, but he doesn’t seem to mind, in fact he is seemingly loving watching you losing your mind, stroking himself as you slurp at the head of his dick, his body language telling you his immense enjoyment.

So consumed with pleasure you had almost forgotten about the knife, as if he could sense this, he chose that moment to remind you. He pressed harder and the skin breaks, you cry out, eyes squeeze shut and your hips stutter, pausing midair, two slaps ring out, one on your chest again, the other on your inner thigh with the back of his hand before the knife is replaced over the fresh wound. You hiss at the rush of pain, “Show us you want it! Keep. Fucking. Going.” 

You did want it, you did want to cum, you needed it so badly, and his tone left no room for argument. You keep going, you rock with renewed vigor, his thumb is slipping over your clit, fingers pushing into that sweet spot again and again, as you move, you find yourself almost sawing the knife into your hip, the cut isn’t deep, but it is getting wider.

You can’t look, but you feel it, hot blood spilling out, running down over your hip, the curve of your ass, your inner thigh, gloved fingers pick some of it up in the process of your pursuit of pleasure, wet crimson adding to the sweat of your tense body, to the mess of your slick pouring from your cunt, creating the most obscenely erotic lube the pair had ever seen.

They knew they would both have to fuck you, bloodlust feeding into sexual lust, merging, twisting, combining.

The cock is pulled from between your lips, no longer stroking himself, he just wants to watch, wants to hear you. With your mouth unoccupied, it hangs open as you allow yourself to pant and moan through it, vocally express yourself. Even with the pain, it doesn’t hurt or hinder, no, it’s helping, the sharp stinging and burning cut of the blade assists and you are hanging on by a thread that is threatening to snap at any second. A quiet and breathless chant is leaving you, “Please, please, please, m’ so fucking close-”

“Nothing stopping you, certainly not us.” 

Your eyes flick down to the man currently two fingers deep, that mask’s hollow empty eyes are staring back at you makes your breath catch, one more, you know it, you think they both do, one more rise and fall of your hips, one more grind, one more cut, and you’ll be there. Your whole body is trembling with the effort, so fucking near you think you might go insane if he stops you from seeing it through again, “Do it.” 

He doesn’t need to tell you twice, hips fall, fingers press inward harder with him helping, thumb slips over your clit and the band inside snaps, your whole cunt spasms and you cum. A bleeding, sweating, shaking, gasping mess, you cum, walls like a vice around his fingers, throbbing and completely alive. You feel indescribably amazing, barely holding on, vision whiting out, you have no words, unable to begin to convey how strong your orgasm was. It’s the kind of climax that leaves you speechless, gun to your head, or knife to your throat, you don’t think you’d be able to adequately describe it in a way that would save your pathetic life. You are left feeling different afterwards, floating and ears ringing, body uncontrollable, from so tense, too loose as can be. 

When the pleasure did finally stop, when every bit of sensation had been wrung out of your body and you were lying flat back on the table, legs dangling once more, chest heaving, struggling to catch your breath.

It isn’t verbally communicated, or maybe it is, you aren’t sure, you are still kind of out of it, you register fingers slipping out, but not much else, your ears are still fucking ringing. You are repositioned, put on your stomach, one leg brought up, knee on the table, the robe flipped up, covering your still bound hands pressed into your lower back. You try to roll your wrists in their restrained state, and yup, just like you thought they’d be, totally asleep. Your cheek is to the table-top, eyes wanting to slip closed, your pussy and ass are totally exposed like this, hands spread you open and you hear a happy sigh, “Oh come look at this!” 

The other one walks around the table to join his friend, his thumb presses to the base of the anal plug you slipped in after your bath, “When did you get this inside yourself?” His tone sounded pleasantly surprised and very pleased.

“She’s a sneaky, filthy little thing. Didn’t I tell you?” The one whose cock you just had in your mouth pre-orgasm asked and the other responded, “You did, I swear I’ll never doubt you again, now go get the lube.” 

You hear him step away, the other continues to prod at the anal plug buried in your ass for a moment before his fingers hook around the base and he slowly starts to remove  it. You hiss slightly at the pull, you had lubed it very well, but that was a long while ago now, he pulls harder and it pops out with relative ease. Breathing a sigh of relief, you hear the heavy steel plug set on the table further down with a minor clank, as well as more footsteps, signalling the return of his friend. 

“Here you go.” 

“Thank you, so-” He takes the lube and you hear the click of the lid open as if for emphasis, “-she’s an admirable cocksucker, isn’t she?”

“Oh yeah, very good, she’s got a nice throat, can take a good pounding.” He sounded gleeful, a sound of agreement rings out before it’s added onto, “You were fucking into it pretty hard for a minute there.” 

So true, he gave it to you rough, your throat will feel a bit raw tomorrow for sure.

“But we still have two other holes to try out, and she was nice enough to start prepping one for us, it’d be rude not to take advantage. Hold her open for me.” 

You feel hands on your ass, spreading you open, and then feel the cold lube pouring down over your tightest hole and in short order, two fingers rubbing around the rim, spreading the cool slippery substance around. You remained relaxed, you weren’t a stranger to anal, you’d done some prep earlier, it wouldn’t take much to get you ready to go. 

“You have a preference?” One asks, and the other responds, “Who says we can’t try both?”

“Elaborate.” One finger begins to slide in, the material of the leather is smooth but still provides some drag, he sinks in to the last knuckle before pulling out, more lube is heaped on before reinserting. 

“Start in her cunt, get a good feel for it, then end in her ass, obviously.” It is said so easily, like it’s unbelievably simple.

“Sure, you are gonna be able to wait me out?” He teases and the other laughs, “Ha! Who says I have to? Once you are in the back, I’ll slide in the front. A whore like her? She can take a dick in each hole, no problem.”

“You are so right! Stupid of me to think otherwise. Too bad we don’t have a third friend for her mouth, could make her airtight.” That thought makes you shiver, fuck.

“Maybe something for the future.” He muses. 

The conversation turns quiet save for the occasional comment from them, or moan from you, as he continues to lube you up and finger your ass open, before you know it you have a second and a third finger buried in you, he was twisting and scissoring them, stretching you wider and wider until he deemed you ready to go. You were excited, very into this and leaking even more, you can’t help it, anal even after all this time, is a major turn on. You had been rocking back into him for a while, moving with him, encouraging him with your deepened breathing and pitched moans, biting your tongue to hold back your begging for more. 

His hands grip your hips and pulls you back towards him, you feel how sticky his fingers are with lube, you feel more alert, recovered from the monstrous orgasm you experienced earlier and ready for more. His hands lift momentarily to slick his cock up, you can hear the wetness of it, your fluttering stomach flat to the table, and his hands are back on you, gripping your hips tighter. You feel it, the hot velvety brush of his cock against you, bumping over your clit, he allows that for a moment, a few passes that makes your breath stutter. You feel next, a hand between you and him, gripping him, “Let me help.”

He assists in dragging the blunt and fat head up through your folds, spreading your ample wetness, adding on further to the slickness already coating him.

“Ready?” It's said quietly, so quietly you aren't sure if you are even meant to hear it, was it meant for you or for him? 

A small hum and a confirmation, asking low, “Stop teasing me.” 

“You're no fun.” It's said light, teasing, ignoring his friend's explicit ask, uttered in such a way it has you questioning just how deep their relationship goes, the true nature of it. 

“Shut up.” The response comes, fond, and with what sounds like a grin. 

He's lined up and he pushes forward, he fills you completely, the hand guiding his shaft into you falls away. You know who is who, now. The one who is buried balls deep in you is Billy, not a single doubt in your mind. The one who was in your mouth first, who threatened you with the knife, who spilled your blood, who edged you into oblivion, made you cum so hard you saw stars and spent ample time fingering your ass open and now was inside you, stretching the walls of your pussy so well, was Billy. He pauses, and Stu, you realize now, asks, “How does she feel?”

Billy sighs, “She's soaked-” He pulls out halfway before thrusting in again, “-and somehow so, so fucking tight.”

He began a slow rhythm, fucking you in earnest, his own breathing behind the mask picking up, that makes more heat flare inside,“You know something feels off.” 

He fucks harder, as if barrelling into your pussy with more strength will reveal the answer he is looking for. His hands are on you as he stills, they start to wander, feeling you, legs, ass, lower back before curling down and his fingers press over your hip and you cry out from him pressing so hard on the cut from earlier. “Oh, that’s what it is! She’s not bleeding anymore.” 

He sounds disappointed.

A beat before Stu responds, “We can fix that.” 

You hear the sound of the previously abandoned blade on the wooden table-top getting pulled up, that distinct schink sound as it is drawn up, “You just focus on fucking her.” 

He comes around the front of you, facing you, looking down and brandishing that knife, he gives a small wave with the steel as if to say, “Hi.” 

Even with his face covered with that mask, you are sure of the look on his face, the playful shit eating grin, eyes alight with mischief.

Billy starts fucking you once more, you moan helpless to resist, brows furrow as the haze of pleasure descends once more and Stu steps closer, the hand not holding the knife reaches down and he cradles your chin. His thumb traces your lips before pressing to your bottom lip, you can smell the leftover juices from when he was fingering you earlier still clinging to the leather. 

“Where should I cut you? Where should I cut you?” He is musing it as if to himself, you know he isn’t asking you. 

You have no say in this. 

He is humming, you can almost feel his eyes moving over your body, currently being rocked from the force of Billy’s thrusts. His hand moves, slips down your throat before tracing your collar bones and then going over your shoulder, strong fingers follow the line of your spine all the way up to the nape of your neck, to where your hair starts. He nods, small, nearly imperceptible and he brings the knife down. The cut isn’t deep, however it is quick, precise, he cuts slightly above where his fingers were pressing, you hiss and clench around Billy’s shaft, making him groan. Honestly, it’s a smart place. Your hair can hide any scar that comes from this easily, he presses harder, squeezes and makes more blood spill and it only has one place to go, down your back. It makes it look much worse than it actually is, the pain isn’t actually the bad, the pleasure is far outweighing it at. 

“How’s that?” Stu asks, and Billy responds easily, “Much fucking better.” 

Billy’s hand reaches up, his fingers smear the blood down your back, his hand lifts only to come back down hard, smacking right on your ass as his hips drive into you the hardest they have all night. Stu’s hand is cradling the back of your neck, pressing down on that wound in time with Billy’s thrusts and the chorus of moans it draws from you are pitched and loud, caught between heaven and hell, pain and pleasure. You inhale through your teeth, musing faintly how thankful you are that all the houses lining the beach are spaced so far apart, some of the moans they have you making would be cause for concern for nearly anyone who overheard your current lustful activities. 

Billy pulls you back as he fucks forward, he tugs you a bit closer, adjusts you slightly and you tense all over. Billy found that same spot he had been practically bullying earlier and you gasped, the pair shared a look over your taut body, shared acknowledgement that he'd locked onto it again. Billy didn't falter, he fucked harder all while staring at Stu, who's fingers were dragging down over your back, smudging and smearing more of your blood as your eyes go hazy and unfocused, consumed with feeling and the slow build of another orgasm.

You push back to meet him and in the process cause Stu to press on the still fresh wound, but just like earlier the pain falls more to the background. 

“Look at this brainless mess, she's on autopilot.” Stu laughed and Billy’s breathing sounds more strained as he asked, “Yeah? Looking cock drunk?”

“Not a thought behind her eyes, all she's focused on is cumming on your cock.” His fingers tangled in your hair near your scalp, he tugs, you wince and Stu asks, “Isn’t that right?” 

You are panting, a nod, the only concern is how your blood is singing, the feeling of intense fire under your skin and keeping this whole experience going, getting as much enjoyment from it as you possibly can. 

“Awe, you're speechless! Is his cock that good? That you have no words?” Considering how close he is already getting you just from his thick shaft splitting you wide and annihilating your cunt for a few short minutes? Yes, he is that good. 

“Not gonna lie-” Billy sighed, the sound again sounds so much better from behind that mask, you clench around him, he pauses briefly, grinding deeply into you before resuming fucking in and out, “-wouldn’t say I’m one for getting pussy drunk but fuck man-” He breaks off in a groan and picks up the pace just a little.

“-this feels fucking in-cred-ible, right?” 

You nod again, agreeing with him wholeheartedly, frantic and dumb as you creep closer to the edge, moaning wordlessly, your walls grasping desperately at his shaft telling on how fantastic this is feeling for you, and when you are roughly fifteen seconds from another brain breaking orgasm, Billy pulls out. You begin making sounds of protest, trying to get yourself together to string together some words to complain, but they are already hard at work again. 

“Help me move her.” Hands are on your biceps, pulling you up and you are being repositioned. You are struggling and putting up a bit of a fight again, they are working you into the configuration they want, you seriously wonder if they talked about it prior or if their non-verbal communication is that strong. Here is how it ends up.

Billy is sitting on the edge of the table, you are in his lap, legs spread wide and hooked over his strong thighs, his hands holding your upper arms so firmly you can't get away. Stu gets on his knees briefly to help Billy lube up extra before he assists lining him up again. You feel the slick tip pressed to your asshole and Stu rises, but his eyes stay locked on where you are about to be joined, he watches intently as the grip loosens and gravity aids in helping you impale yourself on Billy. 

Your hands clenched into fists, you groan as he bounces you up and down a few times, gritting out, “C'mon, open up-” until suddenly he slowly slips inside your tightest hole, once the head pops in he joins you, the mixing sound of pleasure from him and effort from you as you take more and more until at the halfway point he starts to bounce you more vigorously. 

“Was worried it might not fit.” Billy breathed out, and you laugh just as breathlessly, “Me too.”

He is thrusting into you very shallowly, making you take more in small increments as Stu is stroking himself to the picture you both made until finally, fucking finally, he is totally buried in you. 

He is merciful enough to let you take a moment to breathe and get accustomed to him fully inside your ass, but it is only a moment. His hands adjust slightly but remain on your arms, he tugs you up with them and buck his hips up from below to fuck up into you, causing you to choke out, “God-” 

It didn't feel bad at all, but it is an intense sensation, he is very girthy, thank God he put so much effort into the prep earlier or that’d be a different story. Stu could only watch Billy for a minute more before he needed to get in on the action, you had your lips on him far too long ago, he is dying to get inside you again. 

In short order Stu is stepping forward and with the combined height of the table and you on Billy's lap it makes your leaking pussy at the perfect level for him to fuck you too. One hand on your hip and he is nearly flush to you, Billy had stopped moving to allow Stu to get inside of you, and you are confronted with just how imposing they both are when you are in this position, pressed between them, white masks with hollow eyes watching your every move.

The hand that isn't on your hip grips the base of his shaft, the tip drags up through your drenched folds only once before he is nudging up against your grasping hole, his hips press forward with no small amount of force and he eases into you with a harsh inhale through his teeth. “Jesus fucking Christ.” 

Stu isn't quite as thick as Billy, but he is longer, which makes this position easier, to be honest the excess length is what makes this position possible, period. He manages to get about two thirds into you comfortably, his head tipping forward, his breathing laboured behind the mask as he starts to begin a rhythm in earnest. “You are so, soooo much tighter like this-”

The first thing said tonight that didn't fit the true narrative of the role play but no one complains, you are all rather lost in the weeds at the moment, consumed with lust and the only real God that mattered in this house, that of course being the moment, the now, worshipping at the altar of the flesh. 

“Can feel you so easily.” Stu huffs out to Billy, he grinds his hips, his shaft rubbing against Billy’s through the thin wall separating your two holes.

So you weren’t lying to Stu earlier, your stance on threesomes being very pro, especially after this experience, but the threesomes you engaged in were different; they were usually with another woman, another sugar baby or the partner of some client. Sure you’ve had things in both holes at the same time, however never anything as filling as this, nothing close to having a dick in both your pussy and ass at the same time. Now that Stu has a good handle on working himself in and out of your cunt, Billy starts moving again with a throaty groan, responding to Stu's earlier statement, “Can feel you too, man.”

You have never felt more full or more helpless, you couldn’t do much of anything, truly a pliant fuck doll pulled one way and another, pulled up and dropped back down, thrust and ground into. What bliss, having your holes stretched to the limit and lost in the feelings being forced on your body. 

The two men weren't so much as concerned with fucking in and out in that feverish and devastating way you were experiencing earlier, the kind where they pull out almost completely before slamming back in, the current action could be described as more of a firm grind. You quickly come to realize the rutting movements are just as much them seeking pleasure in each other as they are in you, gaining friction from each other as well as the gripping, well lubed and rippling walls of your holes.

The shared moaning and panting between the pair is getting louder, more intense, the dirty talk is fractured and not flowing in as elegant a manner, no full sentences, just short and degrading praise huffed out before breaking out. 

“-her holes are so fuckin’ hungry-” “-leakin’ like a faucet all over us-” “-just listen to her-” “-think she knows how loud she’s being?”

Shit, were you? Tuning in a bit more, you realize that yes you are moaning loudly and pathetically, helpless to stop it from how it all feels. Instead of feeling embarrassment or shame over this fact, you moan.

You aren't sure cumming from this is possible, it feels fucking incredible, but not necessarily in a way that could build towards an orgasm, it feels too overstimulating for that. Furthermore, you feel a strange mix of limp and tense as together they use you, mind blanking out with every jolt of overwhelming pleasure. You are more than aware this isn’t about you, this is about them, their mutual enjoyment, you are a prop for their fantasy and yet, you don’t feel objectified, or bothered, in fact, you find yourself loving every single moment. It feels good to be part of what they have, be privy to this level of closeness, it feels startlingly intimate. You had no idea how much more intimate it was about to get. 

Stu instigates it, his hand is off your hip and coming up, it pushes the bottom of his mask up, exposing the lower half of his face and he reaches out to do the same to Billy, he catches him off guard, you hear the question of, “What are you doi-”

Which is promptly cut off by Stu jerking forward over your shoulder, his mouth capturing Billy’s in a kiss, your eyes go wide as you look up and to the right to watch the frankly filthy looking tongue kiss the pair is engaged in. Billy doesn’t fight it, he moans into it and fucks into you harder. 

It doesn’t last much longer after that. 

Billy cums first, hips stuttering unevenly, choked sounds of pleasure expressed against Stu’s mouth, you think you can make out a curse or two, but you aren’t sure as he gives a few more shallow thrusts as he milks the last vestiges of his orgasm. You are seated fully in Billy’s lap as his chest heaves, slowly trying to recover, his currently still hard cock plugging your ass enough to keep the cum deep inside, something you sure would no longer be the case when he pulled out. 

Stu on the other hand was chasing his orgasm much more aggressively, now without having to try and contend with Billy’s movements he could fully focus on getting his. Stu’s hand is resting on the back of Billy’s neck, he had broken their kiss, lips an inch from his best friend’s, panting out as he ruts into you, “Fuck, fffuck, M’ so close-”

“Do it, come on, fill her up.” The encouragement seems to be what makes it happen, you feel him still, throbbing, the rush of warm as he shudders from the sheer force of how intense it feels. 

The come down takes a good minute, the only sounds are your collective harsh breathing, but when you all catch up they start to move. First things first, the masks come off, Stu face is revealed to you as he fully removes it, tossing it onto the table near the long discarded knife. He grins down at you, hair looking a little sweaty, cheeks a bit flush but eyes as playfully mischievous as ever, he says a soft, “Hey.”

You laugh softly, returning it, “Hey yourself.” Before you lean up and press a kiss to his lips, he returns it for a moment before you feel still gloved fingers trace your jaw, turning your head. Once he has and you are looking at him, you realize Billy had taken his own mask off, his smile has a soft but still smug quality to it as he also repeats the greeting before kissing you for the first time. 

You melt into it, the realization that Billy had fucked every hole you had, cut you, hurt you, caused you to bleed and cum all before you ever kissed running over your brain like liquid fire. Your body responds automatically, clenching on them both, twin small groans pulled from them both as you squeeze their slowly softening dicks still buried in you. The kiss breaks and Billy asks, “When was the last time you came?”

A small laugh as you admit with a shrug, “Just the once, earlier on your fingers.”

He tsks, “Shit, well that’s no good at all Stu, hmm?” Stu nods in agreement, “Not good at all.”

“What’re we gonna do about that?” He asks with a hum and Stu offers, “How about we get her cleaned up, get all the cum and blood off her and then get her off real slow, comfortably?”

Billy’s nose runs up the side of your neck and you sigh out at the feeling and the thought, being freshly clean and in soft bedsheets as they focus on you, devote themselves to getting you off again hard as fuck, “Sounds good.”

“Yeah? Then that’s what we will do, the least we can do to show our appreciation for how good you did tonight.” Stu kissed your forehead and you ask, “Mmm, yeah, I did good?”

“Oh my God, the best.” Billy gushed, he slowly pulled out of you, causing you to gush in turn, Stu pulled out too and the amount of cum that spilled forth was impressive. They finally untied your hands, you rolled your wrists and open and closed your hands, trying to will the feeling back into them, the robe was used to mop up the cum you leaked out onto the table and floor. The robe was caked in now dried blood, it looked totally wrecked, you doubt it could be cleaned but oh well, the sacrifices we make in the pursuit of kink and pleasure, some casualties are meant to be expected. 

You are way too unsteady on your legs to walk, they are constantly trembling, Stu was carrying you upstairs, Billy carrying the ruined robe, knife and masks as he trailed behind. 

Soon the bath was running, you were sitting in the tub as Billy and Stu got out of their costumes, the Ghostface garb was being stripped away and finally he asked the burning question, “So what did you think? Did it live up to the hype?”

Billy scoffed, a fond roll of his eyes, “Is that why you were so quiet on the way up here? Worried what I would say?” 

Stu brushed him off, “Pfft no. Obviously not.” 

He hummed unconvinced, finished taking off his boots he walked over to Stu who was still unlacing, leaning down he kissed him on the forehead and said, “Stu, it was so fucking amazing it makes me wonder why we waited so long.” 

Stu grinned and pushed his friend’s shoulder playfully, “Shut up, yes you do.” He glanced over his shoulder to you reclining in the tub, enjoying the hot water slowly filling the porcelain, relaxing in your now second bath of the night. He finally admitted that Billy was right, that they needed the right person to make this as good as it was, he admits this by saying simply, “We were waiting on her.”

[merthosus]

Hello, my first time requesting, but please i badly needed part two of 'It hurts, doesn't it?"

Cried so much because someone betrayed me.

It hurt's, doesn't it? Part 2

Summary: Diego caught you and Five kiss, after you both watched him and Five's girlfriend cheating. Diego insults you out of anger, will Five step in for you?

Of course my dear, take a cup of coffee and a warm blanket, Five will heal all of your wounds!

"Did you really… like me all this time?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!", Diego screamed.

You had expected Five to jump up from you, push you away or even ram you to the side, but no. His body only pressed harder against your own. You swallowed, getting caught felt worse than you expected. Your stomach tightened and your hands clawed into the seat of the van. You put a hand around the back of Five's neck to pull yourself up and support yourself by your arm.

When Diego, after several moments, angrily yanked the door open, you felt mortal fear. “You fucking whore…” he whispers to you as he captures you with his eyes. Five's grip on your waist tightened. “Watch how you talk to her,” Five mutters angrily. "I talk to my girlfriend how I want to, brother", he says.

The tension in the van was palpable, and for a moment, you weren’t sure what would happen next. Diego's glare felt like a sharp blade cutting through the air, and you could feel the heat of it burning into your skin. His words echoed in your mind—girlfriend. The weight of the accusation hung heavy between you, Five, and Diego, creating a suffocating silence.

Five’s grip on your waist was firm, protective even, and you could sense the quiet storm brewing in him. His jaw clenched as his eyes flicked toward his brother, not backing down. He was always calm under pressure, but you could tell that Diego’s words had struck a nerve. The van’s confined space only added to the suffocating tension.

"Diego, this isn’t the way," you said softly, trying to de-escalate, but your voice trembled with the weight of the situation. You weren’t sure what Diego had seen, or what he thought he saw, but this was spiraling out of control.

“Whore?” Five growled, his voice low but dangerous, his gaze locking onto Diego. His body shifted slightly, as though he was ready to throw himself between you and his brother at a moment’s notice. "She was not the one flirting with my girlfriend in there", Five arguments, whipping his head to the side of the restaurant.

Diego’s eyes narrowed, his face twisting in anger. "That’s not the point, Five," he spat, his voice laced with frustration. "You don’t get to play the hero here. You were all over her," he gestured wildly at you, his hand trembling with rage. "What the hell are you thinking?"

Five shifted slightly, his body still shielding you from Diego’s intense gaze. His voice was low and cold when he spoke, but there was an undeniable fire behind his words. "I’m thinking that I’m tired of all of this. Tired of pretending like nothing’s wrong while you’re in there playing happy with someone else." His voice cracked slightly, betraying the anger and pain he was holding back. "I gave everything, Diego, and you threw it away. So don’t you dare act like you’re the victim here."

Diego’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, the veins in his neck straining. His eyes darted between you and Five, as if searching for something—some explanation, some way to make sense of the mess unraveling in front of him.

"You don’t understand," Diego muttered, his voice barely audible now, as if he was losing control of his own emotions. He took a step back, his eyes flicking to you, and for a brief moment, you saw something other than anger in his gaze—regret, maybe even guilt. "There is nothing to understand Diego, she gave you everything and you threw it away like it was nothing. She doesn't deserve you", Five says with a lower tone.

Your hand travels up his waist, you hid your hand into his shirt, hoping Diego wouldn't see it. "You always had an eye on her Five, don't you dare to play the victim!"; he screams angrily.

Five’s eyes darkened as Diego's accusation cut through the air. He stood still for a moment before letting out a low sigh, his voice unusually soft. “You’re not entirely wrong, Diego. I liked her before. Long before you two were together.”

Diego’s face twisted in disbelief, rage boiling up. “You’ve had your eye on her this whole time? Waiting for me to mess up?”

Five’s grip on you tightened slightly, but his tone remained calm, steady. “No. I never wanted it to be this way. But I watched you throw her away, over and over again. I buried my feelings, out of respect for you. But then you left her.”

Diego’s fists clenched as he stepped forward. “So now you think you can just step in?”Five shook his head, glancing at you briefly. “No, Diego. I didn’t plan any of this. But I couldn’t watch you hurt her anymore.”Diego’s jaw clenched, and without another word, he turned away and stormed off, leaving the two of you standing in the thick silence.Five turned to you, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want this to happen.”

Five’s confession hung in the air, the weight of his words pressing against you. Diego's retreating footsteps echoed in the silence as he left the two of you alone in the van.

You turned to Five, your heart pounding. "Did you really… like me all this time?"

Five hesitated, searching your eyes before answering. “Yes,” he admitted, his voice low and honest. “But I never acted on it. You were with Diego, and I respected that. I kept my distance because… it wasn’t my place.”

You swallowed, your emotions a tangled mess. “And now?” Five looked at you, his eyes softening. “Now, everything’s different. I didn’t plan this, but… I care about you. More than I should’ve allowed myself to.” Your breath caught, unsure of what to say. But deep down, a part of you knew that things between you and Five had always been different—always deeper than friendship. In that moment, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you had always felt it too.

For all the people who wanted a part 2 :)

[feroshgirlsims]

Chapter 4.3 - Dating for Weirdos

Alice feels like her brain has been scrambled. How did she end up on a date with some dude who didn’t think she was worth any effort? Her self-esteem was…well, her self-esteem was in the toilet, but still! She had her pride!

Although, probably not enough of it. 

Reasonably, she shouldn’t be afraid. Vlad was not going to lose his shit just because her tone was too sharp, and if he did, she could just leave this date.

Unreasonably, she avoids his gaze and swallows down her rant.

Fucking muscle memory. 

“I’m trying valiantly," Vlad says gently. 

“What?” 

"I want to be the least shit version of myself on this date,” he continues, looking pained, “But even that version leaves a lot to be desired. I’m a difficult sim to be around, and so far, despite skipping my Civil Procedure class today to read a self-help book on using imagination to increase my charisma, I fear I’ve failed.”

Trying and failing is something Alice is pretty familiar with. And Vlad doesn’t lack charisma, per se. It was just kind of hidden behind his aura of “find out even if you don’t fuck around.” 

“What was the advice?” she asks, giving him what she hopes is a friendly smile. 

“Imagine a better version of myself,” he smirks, “And introduce you to it.”

“Kind of shit advice,” Alice murmurs. 

Vlad laughs, and she relaxes, “Ok, so was this the introduction to the newly developed, less shitty version of your personality, or do you have something else planned for later?"

“Usually, I’m better prepared, but no, this mediocre showing is the best I could come up with.”

“I give it a 4 out of 10,” Alice scrunches up her face, “Which makes me sort of concerned about your future as an attorney who needs to sway a jury.”

As soon as the words fly out of her mouth, anxiety pools in her stomach. But Vlad simply throws back his head and guffaws. 

“Very fair,” he concludes, wiping the tears from his eyes, “I don’t ever plan to practice law, but even if I did, I’m not worried about manipulating a jury of my peers.”

“Why not?”

“Universally, sims are stupid when they get into groups, and I have no problem lying. The hard part is that I want you to know the truth of me and like it.”

“Oh, I…” Alice jolts at his expression. Even guys she’s really liked have never looked at her with that sort of intensity.

“Ask me a question. Trust me, you'll know immediately if you have any interest in seeing me again.”

Alice hesitates. She could ask something basic to confirm that Vlad is a normal sim, but it’s pretty clear that the answer to that question is no. And the last time she fell for normal, it gave her a black eye.

“If you had any supernatural power, what would it be?”

“Paralyzing sims with fear and the ability to become a sentient mist so I could leave any conversation.” He taps a finger to his lip, “And enough strength to crush someone’s bones.”

“Messy,” Alice giggles. “What are you gonna do with all that bone dust?”

“I’m envisioning crushing their bones inside their body so it’d be more like a hearty stew as opposed to a pile of dust.”

“You would eat them?”

He shrugs. “Waste not, want not.”

It is an absolutely wild answer. Alice flashes him a grin. “The power to turn sims into mushy take-out meals. Got it.”

“And what about you?”

“I’m not turning sims into bone soup.”

The corner of his mouth tilts up. “You can't. As we’ve discussed, that power has already been taken. Might I suggest flight or rotting someone’s flesh with the snap of a finger?”

Alice laughs, and just like that, her appetite returns with a vengeance. “I like the true you,” she says as the waitress sets down Vlad’s order.

He smiles and begins dividing everything in half, shoveling it onto an empty plate that Alice didn’t even notice was on the table. He slides it over to her. “I’m relieved. Now, the pancakes are to die for and I promise no sims have been harmed in the making of this food.”

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(Part 3 of 4)