#i suppose i have to satisfy myself with my imagination

[oarfishing]

i need to Transformers Roll Out into a drill and dig into the earth and marinate there for a bit i think

[taeyongdoyoung]

hide and seek

summary: your best friend chan finds you've been fantasizing about him and decides to turn those ideas into reality... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to ??? warnings: *cracks knuckles* cnc/primal play, wolf/bunny roleplay, mention of safewords, traffic lights system (yellow used), hide and seek, mentions of pee, chasing scenario, blowjob mouthfucking, hair-grabbing, degradation, leg cramping, knees hurting, kinda realistic, unprotected sex, missionary but he holds reader down, pet names, daddy kink (like once), breeding kink, creampie, aftercare, discussion of future scenario 👀 author's note: this will be the first part in a series, i haven't decided yet how many parts, maybe three? stay tuned if you're interested 🤍 part two & part three word count: 2.5k

Chan simply asks you if he can use your laptop while you’re having a shower since his battery died and he really needs to check something work-related real quick. After doing so, he can’t help but notice the recently opened pages. He doesn’t mean to pry, really. But it’s right there. And a quick look into his best friend’s mind couldn’t hurt…could it?

He is immediately captivated by this story you’ve apparently written and keep hidden in the drafts of your blog. It’s so…sexy and unlike anything you’ve ever talked to him about.

“Dumb little bunny, thinking you can get away from me,” the big bad wolf growls in the bunny’s ear.

The bunny whimpers helplessly, trying to escape the wolf’s strong grasp but to no avail.

The wolf takes the bunny from behind mercilessly, biting her neck and using her to please his needs...

What comes at the end of the story is what shocks him the most.

“Chris, please…”

Huh? Which Chris? Chris Evans? Or maybe Hemsworth? As far as he remembers, you have always been more of a Sebastian Stan and Tom Hiddleston kinda girl but…people change, he supposes.

Until it hit him. His name is also Chris! And people do compare him to a wolf…But no, it couldn’t be…There is no way his best friend is writing stories fantasizing about him.

Unless…

He can’t imagine going on with his life without knowing the answer. So, Chan waits impatiently until you are done with your shower.

“Everything good with your work thing?” you ask him calmly once you return to your room.

“Yeah, all is good. But I found something way more interesting on your laptop,” Chan blurts out meaningfully.

The expression on your face is enough of an answer. You look completely mortified, like a true bunny that is waiting to be devoured.

“I forgot to clear my history, didn’t I?” you murmur even though you already know what Chan has seen.

“That story wasn’t about Chris Evans, was it?” Chan wants to know though he suspects what the truth is.

You immediately drop to your knees in front of him, which takes him by surprise. Gripping his hand tightly, you look so cute and pitiful. He wants to ruin you. Wait, when did those feelings show up?

“I know it was wrong, Channie, believe me. But I just couldn’t help myself, okay? Nothing else helps me get off but this fantasy. I promise I won’t do it again, please don’t end our friendship! You mean the world to me, I’m so so sorry!”

“End our friendship?” he is completely stunned by your train of thought. “Why would I? I mean, you never meant for me to see it, so I think it’s okay to have certain…fantasies. But now that I did see it, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it, if it makes you uncomfortable,” you suggest.

“You’re right, we don’t have to talk about it. But how about I make those scenarios come to life?”

“Huh? You want to what now?” you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“It can’t be satisfying, dealing with all these frustrations by yourself.”

“It really isn’t…” you confess.

“Then, let me take care of you. That’s what friends are for, right?” Chan chuckles.

“Let me get this straight, you wanna re-enact my freaky fantasies while still staying friends?”

“Um, sure, why not?”

You would be a fool to agree. This could mess up everything. But you would be an even bigger fool to reject his tempting offer.

“I’m in.”

“Great! Then, should we discuss boundaries and safewords and stuff?”

“No boundaries, no safewords, you can do whatever you like to me, I don’t care.”

“This isn’t right. What if I want to use a safeword?”

Oh. That thought never crossed your mind but perhaps it should have.

“How about this…if I want a scene to end, I’ll say red. I know you said you don’t need one, but just in case, feel free to use it. If we want to just pause for a bit, then yellow. Green is good to go. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir. I mean, Chan. I mean, uhhh…do you want me call you something specific?”

“Whatever you like, babygirl,” he reassures you and pats your cheek. “Do you want to give this a try rightaway? Unless you’ve got other plans…”

“No way, let’s do this!” you practically jump at the opportunity.

“Alright. I’ll give you one minute to hide anywhere in this house. After that, I can do whatever I like to you.”

His words make you so thrilled that your heart threatens to escape from your chest because it’s beating louder than ever.

“If you find me,” you tease.

“Oh, I will,” Chan swears. “Now, run.”

You sprint out of your room and down the stairs, as he starts the countdown.

“Sixty…fifty-nine…”

Where should you hide? The living room doesn’t have any good hiding spots and neither does the kitchen. Under the table is too obvious. Your room would have been a good option but Chan is currently there, so it’s out of the question. The bathroom is right next to it, so once again, not a great idea. Then, it hits you. The basement! You don’t remember ever showing it to Chan so it will take him more time to think of it. You go through the door and run down another set of stairs leading to the basement. You see the perfect spot. A vintage wooden chest that just happens to be empty and is big enough to fit you if you squeeze in.

Okay, maybe not comfortable but you can survive in there for a couple of minutes. Once you’ve tucked yourself inside and closed the lid, you are suddenly hoping that Chan finds you quickly. Whatever he does to you can’t be worse than this tiny space. You didn’t know you had claustrophobia but in this very moment, you do. You can’t hear him from down here so you imagine he is looking through the other rooms first. After what feels like eternity, you finally hear steps. You are grateful that you recently peed before getting in the shower because the current situation would have undoubtedly made you wet your pants. As the steps approach, you begin to worry. What if it isn’t Chan? What if you’d forgotten to lock the door and now a complete stranger comes in to take advantage of you? No, these thoughts are irrational and make you want to use the bathroom. Ugh.

“I’ll give you ten seconds to come out and I’ll go easy on you.”

Chan’s voice both comforts you and freaks you out even more. You’re not coming out, alright. This spot was great! He can do whatever he wants to you.

“Three…two…one,” Chan finishes counting and opens the chest’s lid.

You look up at him, eyes blinking to adjust to the light. He pulls you out of it roughly.

“Last chance. Run.”

But then, you realize you were squeezed into that tiny space for so long that your leg had cramped up. You can’t possibly run right now.

“Um, sorry but yellow,” you feel like an idiot. You had said you don’t need a safeword and yet…

“What’s wrong?” Chan’s threatening gaze immediately softens and he rubs your elbow gently.

“I didn’t think I’d get a leg cramp in this freaking box,” you admit, ashamed of yourself as you shake your legs in an attempt to relax muscles.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Chan coos at you and helps you massage your leg. “Wanna call it a day?”

“Hell nah. Just, no more running, please.”

“Sure, that’s fine by me.”

“Sorry for ruining the mood.”

Chan shakes his head.

“You could never.”

“Okay, I think I’m good now,” you assure him.

“Scene?”

“Scene.”

“Did you really think you can escape me? Dumb little bunny…” Chan tsks at you and you feel your knees giving out. You need him so bad it’s not even funny anymore.

“Please, don’t hurt me, Mr. Wolf,” you plead with him even though every cell in your being would be glad to be on the receiving end of his anger.

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? You should’ve locked your door to keep me out.”

If you tell him that you want him inside would it be too out of character for a scared bunny?

“I’ll do anything,” you promise crying. “I won’t tell a soul.”

“You’ll do anything regardless,” Chan smirks devilishly and grabs your hair harshly, pushing you to your knees. With his free hand, he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, wasting no time in pulling his cock out of his confines and stuffing your mouth full.

Fuck, your knees already hurt, probably because of that stupid chest but you choose to ignore the discomfort for now because this feeling of being dominated like that is too good to let go of.

“That’s it, take it like the useless cumslut you are,” Chan speaks degradingly but you’ve never been wetter before.

You wish you could say you are doing your best to give him a blowjob but the truth is you are not doing much, his hips thrusting forward aggressively, his hands gripping your hair. Your mouth is nothing but a cumdump for him. Your eyes are watering, vision is blurred. Your throat hurts too but it is nothing compared to the burning feeling in your knee. It is in that moment you realize that you didn’t discuss a signal for a situation where you can’t speak. You rack your brain for an alternative and remember that some subs opt for pinching their dom’s skin in an attempt to communicate discomfort. You really don’t want this to end but…

As you are overthinking this, you realize Chan’s already released his seed inside of your mouth and you are left with no choice but to swallow it up like the greedy cumwhore you are. Only for him, though.

His cock softens in his mouth but he doesn’t immediately pull out and only then, do you remember what you’ve been about to do.

You pinch his thigh lightly, looking up with moist, pleading eyes.

“What is it, darling?” Chan needs to know, taking a step back.

“Help me stand, please,” your voice is hoarse.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks as he grips your hands and leads you to sit for a while on the stupid chest responsible for your current pain. Okay, maybe, you brought this upon yourself but whatever.

“No, you were perfect, it’s just that my knees hurt. Fucking dumb wooden thing,” you grunt in frustration, punching it with your tiny fist.

Chan chuckles and strokes your hair comfortingly in complete contrast to how he was pulling it mere seconds ago. Then, he pulls you into his arms for a sweet hug.

“Sorry…I’m killing the mood again, aren’t I?” you pout.

“Not at all. Remember you’re in charge of whatever happens between us. You wanna pause, we pause. You wanna stop, we stop. I would hate myself if this doesn’t feel as good for you as it does for me.

“You feel good?”

“Are you kidding? Do you think I’d offer just anyone to fulfil their fantasies hidden in their drafts?” Chan laughs fondly.

“I’m glad you think so,” you smile at him gratefully. “I’m better now so if you’re still on board, we can continue.”

“I’m on board but let me come up with a new plan. I was thinking of fucking you doggy style but now that’s out of the question with your knee situation.”

Hearing him speak out loud what he was planning to do to you sends shivers down your spine. Damn it, maybe you should have just hidden under the table.

“How do you feel about missionary?” Chan inquires.

“Wouldn’t it be too intimate for the kind of scenario we’re doing?” you are doubtful.

“Not if I hold you down,” Chan murmurs smugly.

“Oh. Well, then…like I said, you can do whatever you like.”

“Action?”

“Action,” you confirm.

Chan wastes no time in pulling you up from your sitting position and pushing you down on the cold floor. He’s holding your wrists with one hand and undressing you with the other. Scratch that. He’s tearing your dress apart. It was never one of your faves.

“W-what are you d-doing?” you mewl at him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Chan commands.

He doesn’t bother with stretching you out because he sees you’re already soaking wet for him. Instead, he forces his thick cock inside of your tiny pussy.

Only this time, your screams are real and you’re not at all pretending.

“T-too b-big, it h-hurts,” you cry out.

“You can take it, bunny,” Chan says confidently.

You know that you can put an end to this with one simple word but damn, does it feel incredible to be stuffed full by your best friend’s large manhood.

“Shh,” he whispers in your ear. “This’ll feel so much better if you relax f’me.”

You’re trying, really. But it’s too much you feel like he’ll split you in half. Okay, maybe not a bad way to go but still.

“D-daddy, it h-hurts so m-much,” you slur mindlessly.

Wait, what did you just say?

“Daddy, huh? Easy, babybun, your wolf dad’s gonna take good care of you, I promise,” Chan’s words send you into overdrive and you come around his cock, your thighs are shaking and you’re arching your back. You can’t think anymore, you just need to be with him stuck in this moment forever. Soon enough, he releases his cum inside of your pussy.

You want to beg him to stay there for a while but you are too weak to speak.

Instead, Chan uses his fingers to push back the cum inside of your tiny pussy.

“Gotta make it stick. Will my bunny have my wolf puppies, huh?”

Oh? So, he’s that kind of guy. Well, you can’t say you mind...Besides, you’ve talked about this before and you’re on the pill so whatever he says is just for the sake of the scenario. Right?

“Was this okay?” Chan intends to find out and judging by his soft tone that is just begging to be praised you can tell that the scene is over.

“You did amazing, Chris,” you sigh wistfully and kiss his cheek.

“Better than your fantasies?”

“You have no idea.”

“So…when can we do something like this again?”

“Gee, let me have some water, at least,” you joke but your best friend (?) takes it literally and scoops you up in his arms, heading towards the stairs.

“Wait, where are we going?”

“To get you water, of course. And have a bath. And then to bed.”

Fuck. Maybe staying friends will be more complicated than you initially thought.

Once you’ve both been hydrated, washed up and dried out, you are cuddled in your bed, sharing snacks.

“Do you want to try something more extreme next week?” Chan asks casually. As if what you just did wasn’t already pretty intense.

“Um, sure? What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Kind of an outside setting. It will take some planning to make sure there aren’t other people but…it just came to mind while we were in the basement.”

“Tell me more about it,” you blink curioisly and put your hand on top of his.”

“So…how do you feel about being chased in a forest?”

To be continued…

[rememberwren]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Third time’s the charm. Simon/fem!reader. Handjobs, edging, cumming untouched, thigh riding, femdom behavior, somewhat submissive!simon, literally tried to cure my depression with this (did not work)

-

“You said you usually go three times in a session. We should try one more time, shouldn’t we?” 

Ghost looks at you like you’ve grown an extra set of eyes. He shakes his head a little, his eyes hard and disbelieving when they meet your own. “Have I not embarrassed myself enough for you?”

“Not really—? I mean—fuck,” you fumble, running a hand down face. “That didn’t come out right. I just meant that I don’t feel like you have any reason to be embarrassed.” 

He stares at you, through you, like if he looks long and hard enough he’ll be able to see your truth straight down to your bones. Well let him look. He hadn’t exactly bared his soul during the few weeks you had spent discussing this before meeting in person, but he had told you plenty: his issue had cost him relationships. It had cost him jobs thanks to lack of focus. Friendships thanks to neglect. You couldn’t imagine anyone willingly choosing something which gave them so much suffering. His lack of complicity cleared him of any blame in your eyes. 

At length, he must see that there is some honesty in you. Looking like it pains him, he nods his head, hulking shoulders deflating a little. “Fine. One more time. I’ll need a few minutes though.”

“That’s fine,” you offer, and it is, or at least it would be if it meant you both didn’t have to sit in complete silence, Ghost uneager to offer up conversation topics and you too awkward to try. 

He keeps staring at you, too. Or more specifically, your breasts. You’re wearing a simple t-shirt, but the effect is aided by one of your prettier bras. You had worn it unsure if Ghost was serious in his insistence that there would be no sex taking place between you both 

It seemed a pity for it to go to waste. 

“Do you want to see?” you ask him, fingers finding the hem of your shirt and gripping it tightly, folding it a little anxiously back and forth like an accordion’s bellows. 

“See? What? No—!”

“I don’t mind, honestly.”

Ghost reaches up a hand to rub at one eye like a headache is forming behind it. His mouth never abandons its signature frown, even as he says, “If you want? Jesus, fuck. I don’t know. I’m not going to stop you.”

You find that you do want. You kneel up, take the hem of your t-shirt into your hands and work it up over your breasts. For all his lack of enthusiasm, his eyes crack open straightaway and glue themselves to you, widening a little at the sight of your strappy, lace-laden bra. 

“I know you didn’t fucking wear that for me,” he says, sounding winded. 

“I’ll be honest, I thought this was just a ploy to hook up. I wore the matching panties too, do you—“

“Stop—talking,” he mutters, closing his eyes. His hand reaches down towards his (valiantly hardening) cock, but thinks twice, turns into a fist, and comes to rest at his side. “And under no circumstance should you take your pants off.”

“Got it. Pants stay on.”

Ghost sighs. “I’m ready. Let’s get it over with.”

That’s the spirit, you think to yourself dryly. You lift your hand to your mouth, creating a little cup with your palm and to spit in, your eyes locked on his own. You hear the click as he swallows, but it’s progress that he doesn’t cum, right? That must mean that he had experienced some level of desensitization, either to you as a partner or to the specific stimulus or a mixture of both. 

But that’s not how this is supposed to work. The whole point is to help him learn to last when he’s as desperate as possible, hoping that edging when he’s truly suffering will lead to a more satisfying orgasm and therefore a need for fewer of them. 

You lower your hand instead of spitting and grip the hem of your shirt, tugging it off over your head altogether. Ghost can’t seem to find his tongue, staring at you with dark, huge eyes as you reach around back and fumble with the clasp of your bra, but at last that comes undone, and you peel it away from you, letting it join his jeans and your shirt on the floor. 

His eyes rake over your naked breasts, mouth forming a curse that he lacks the breath to whisper. His cock is so hard and heavy that it lays against his belly, thick and twitching. 

You shift and straddle his thighs just proximal to his knees. He fists the bedsheets, abs tensing sharply as he watches you with silent awe and trepidation. 

“What are you doing?” He whispers. 

“Getting comfortable?” you suggest. 

Now you cup your hand and spit into it. Then you offer it to him, holding out your hand expectantly. Looking wary, he leans up onto his elbows, ducks his head, and spits into your hand too, quite delicately for being a giant of a man. 

You take your hand and place it palm down against where his cock lays on his belly, slicking the underside from top to bottom. Ghost groans, a low sound torn deep from his chest. He collapses off of his elbows and onto his back, hands finding his eyes and palming at them again while you slick his cock all over with a delicate touch, barely more than a tickle. 

“Are you teasin’ me?” he grits out. 

“I would never.” The tips of your wet fingers trail down over his balls, tight and drawn up against his body already. He hisses through his teeth, cock flexing. You fight a grin. 

Taking him firmly in your hand, you give him a series of smooth, slow strokes, your hand loose and gentle where it is cupped around him. His body writhes against the sheets. 

“Stop, please stop,” he gasps, and you do, letting his cock fall to rest against his belly with a soft thud. He opens his eyes, takes one look at your tits, and squeezes them shut again. ”Fuck, can’t believe you took your shirt off.” 

“I can put it back on if you want.” 

“Really don’t want that. Really fucking don’t. Just—sit there. Please,” he tacks on to the end like an afterthought. You’re grateful to have received a please at all. He takes deep, slow breaths, his nostrils flaring as he strains for air. 

When he gives you a curt nod, eyes still firmly closed, you reach down and use one hand to grip the base of his cock. The other you place toward the head so that you can softly drag your thumb over the deep red tip, tracing the sensitive ridge and over the leaking slit. He whines, honest to god whines, a sound which you feel viscerally in your belly and lower. You shift on his thighs, wondering if it would be so bad to just straddle one, to get some pressure right where you need it most. It’s not like there’s any sort of propriety in a situation like this. He’s getting his, why can’t you get yours? 

You use your thumb to trace a vein up the length of his shaft and smooth the slick over his tip, polishing it softly. 

“Fucking—! Stop! Stop!” 

You stop, and you swallow an unhappy sound. Things had just been getting fun—for you, at least. Ghost looks like he’s being put through the wringer, redness creeping down his neck to disappear under his shirt, knuckles white where he grips the sheets, breaths rapid and shallow. 

“Fuck,” he whispers. He laughs a little, a self-deprecating, unhappy sound. “You’re too good at that.” 

“Good with my mouth too,” you say on a whim. 

His eyes flash open, wide and surprised (and narrowed in on your mouth), his lips parted in a look of near comical astonishment. His hand scrambles to grip around the base of his cock, squeezing painfully. “You—you’re enjoying this aren’t you?” 

“Way more than I thought I would,” you admit. “An obscene amount, honestly—I’m so wet—“

Ghost releases his death grip around his balls and strokes his cock, once, twice, thrice, quick little strokes as his face crumples, as he gives up on the whole fucking thing. You can see it in his face, the defeat, the submission. He’s going to jerk himself off to a quick, unsatisfying release—but it doesn’t seem fair. 

“Stop,” you hiss, reaching out to grip his wrist. He lets go of himself like he’s been burned, immediately obedient even as his face twists with fury. He pulls away from your touch but watches as you shift until just one of his thick thighs is between your own. 

You give a soft, gentle sway of your hips against him. His face is so fucking expressive, his eyes and brows and mouth telegraphing his every little thought and feeling. He watches you with something like tortured awe, eyes flickering towards where your clothed pussy rubs against his bare thigh. 

“Don’t touch yourself,” you breathe, pleasure zipping up your spine at the friction against your cunt. “I want to see if you can cum like this.”

“Came went you spat in your fucking hand,” he breathes, abs tensing, cock twitching as precum pools in his happy trail, watching as you get yourself off against his thigh. “Can cum like this no fucking problem.” 

“You’re not as sensitive now,” you pant, planting a hand against his tensed chest to gain the leverage you need to lengthen the rolling of your hips. 

“Am too.”

“We’ll see.”

His face twists. “Will you—keep going? Even if I do?”

You consider for a moment and then shake your head, breaths too shallow to make words properly. You feel saturated, swollen and sensitive. Every drag of your hips sends muted pleasure up your spine. Normally this would take you ages to cum, but you haven’t been this worked up in a long time. Watching Ghost’s cock turn shades of red and plum is like live pornography, obscene and arousing. Feeling a little cruel, you tell him: “Gotta hold it.”

He tenses his thighs, heels digging into the bed. It does something to the muscle pressed against your cunt and makes your nails dig into his chest. 

He’s shaking his head. “No. Negative. Can’t.”

“Hafta.” 

“Can’t—fuck, I—“

“Goddamnit Ghost,” you whine, hips working feverishly against him. “Hold it and let me cum.”

He really can’t—really and truly. His cock spurts against his belly, a pitiful amount of pearly cum as he groans low and long, moan forming half-hearted, breathy apologies: sorry, ‘m sorry, couldn’t hold it—

You groan, a sound more frustrated than aroused. Your hips slow and stop, and your mouth fights to make a pout. You will it away. It really isn’t his fault. 

“You…you don’t have to stop,” he says, a little shyly. 

You shift off of him and swallow your own sigh, feeling sticky and unsatisfied. “It’s okay,” you reassure him. “Maybe next time I’ll get my pants off.” 

His cock, spent, still twitches against his belly. 

[etherealkissed88]

just give up : a motivational post 🥰

there reaches a point where your so tired of not getting what you want in the 3d and you feel like you want to give up. my advice is just give up.

give up trying to get shit in the 3d. “jani does this mean im not gonna get it in the 3d :(“ if you ask this question that means you dont understand the law.

by law, whatever you assume to be true in imagination will harden into a fact. if you have it in imagination, it will reflect in the 3d period. thats inevitable. thats the law. when i say “give up on getting it in the 3d,” i mean stop trying to manifest, stop trying to see change. when you try and try, you fall behind on what your actually supposed to do. your only job is knowing its done in imagination.

leave the 3d alone. when you focus on seeing change in the 3d and it clearly isnt there, you start assuming shit like “i cant manifest” and then the 3d will reflect that. it isnt in the 3d! its fine to admit it! the 3d is none of your concern! if you start actually looking towards imagination to experience what you want and focus on satisfying yourself, you will realize that the answer was self the whole time.

trying to change the 3d wont do shit. changing self will change the 3d because the 3d only looks at self for the next steps.

i promise you that fulfilling yourself and returning to that fulfilled state whenever you feel lack will make you feel so confident in the fact that its already done! and ofc it will reflect because you are changing self to someone who has what they desire

imagination is the source so your goal should be knowing its done in imagination before even thinking about it in the 3d since imagination literally molds the 3d - simply decide its done. do techniques for fun because its already done

satisfy yourself. satisfy yourself. satisfy yourself. fulfilling yourself will always be my favorite piece of advice.

therefore, give up on forcing it in the 3d. change self first. your focus should only be on imagination. you dont see it in the 3d? -> realize it was already done in imagination and enjoy it there. feeling lack or experiencing negative thoughts? -> realize its already done and satisfy yourself within. if not, have fun getting anxious and frustrated bc you still dont have it in the 3d🥰

heres an example of when i manifested something i wanted only when i left the 3d alone and actually fulfilled myself in imagination: 🎀 (if you cant see the full thread, try logging in or just get the twitter/x app)

stand on fucking business, get off these apps and change self. its already yours.

kisses, jani ☆

[orionremastered]

hi! I was wondering how the bats would be with a reader who is disabled or has prosthetics? they're all just very protective of people they care about since...everything, and how maybe that could start to feel sufacating at some point? Or something, idk dude

(also-the way you write is realy cute and sweet for all of them, makes them feel a lot less heavy when they have someone to hold them <33)

Masterlist

Batboys with a Disabled S/O

Dick Grayson [Fully Deaf]

A gentle touch on your shoulder prompts you to slowly turn around, a smile stretching across your face when you realise your boyfriend's back from work.

You pull him into your arms, threading your fingers through his hair. Pulling away reluctantly, you give him a kiss on the tip of his nose.

But he's not smiling; only a sad smile that makes you tilt your head in a silent question.

Don't worry about it, he signs. Have a good day?

You nod, though your frown remains when he moves to the kitchen, always adamant that he cooks whenever he's home. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, frowning at the caller ID and puts the phone on speaker as he begins cooking.

Dick gets more and more angry as the conversation goes on, his hands waving wildly around the small kitchen, only stopping to return to the cooking.

Finally, he hangs up. You tap him on the shoulder and he turns, watching as you sign;

Who was that?

Dick's shoulders raise and drop. A case I'm working on. I'll figure it out.

You nod slowly, satisfied with his response.

Jason Todd [Fully Blind]

Mornings with Jason always start like this. They always start with you gently running your fingers across his face, mapping it out and imagining it in your head. Over his nose, his lips, his stubble.

"Did you clean the apartment?" you ask, lying on top of him as your guide dog sits next to you on the mattress. "I almost knocked one of your guns off the counter yesterday."

"I did," he murmurs. You rest your fingers on his lips and feel that they're stretched into a smile. "I'm sorry for letting it get messy."

"That's okay," you reply quietly, "Ollie picked it up before it hit the floor."

Ollie, your guide dog, makes a huffing sound beside you, causing you both to chuckle.

"Good boy," Jason says proudly, feeling him shift underneath you, mostly likely to pat Ollie.

"You're both good. Too good, maybe."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jason asks.

"Hmm."

Tim Drake [Classical Ehlers-Danlos syndrome]

"Love? Can we go for a camping trip on the weekend with my friends?"

Tim turns his head slowly as he sits in his study chair. He taps the pen he's holding against his lips. "What happens if you get exhausted?"

"We can go back to the tent and rest."

"You can get bruises. A lot of bruises," he frowns, gesturing for you to walk to him. You comply.

"That's fine, they're just bruises," you respond, sitting on his lap. He begins gently drawing shapes on the bare skin of your thighs.

"You could dislocate something," he says to you, quieter now.

"You know how to put it back. You do it for me all the time."

Tim's brow furrows at the reminder of having to put back in dislocated joints more often than he'd like. "Fine. But if you even start to get a little tired, you tell me. Okay?"

You rest your forehead against his and murmur, "Okay."

Damian Wayne [Prosthetic Arm]

"I'll take those—"

"Damian, I love you, but I can put shopping bags into the car just fine." This and many similar conversations have been going on practically since the start of your relationship. And while you do find it endearing that he cares, sometimes you just want him to treat you like you didn't lose your right arm in an accident.

The man scowls. "But—"

"I'm not going to hurt myself, really."

He watches you warily, weighing the outcomes of the situation. "Fine. Only the lighter ones."

You suppose it's better than not being able to do any of them. Still, he watches you like a hawk as you put the lighter ones in the back of the car he bought you (you protested but that man has the most selective hearing).

He closes the trunk/boot after the bags are inside.

"Can I drive?" you ask, hoping you'll get luck there too.

"No."

"I know how."

"No."

[itsravenbitch]

how i revised my boyfriend’s mother’s death

a little backstory

— for the sake of privacy, we’re gonna say my boyfriend’s mother’s name is kay

kay’s “death” was caused by a car accident (wasn’t her fault) and she later passed in the hospital. this all happened in new york, and my boyfriend and i live in georgia. but about a 2 days after we found out, we flew out there.

my bf and his mom were super close so that loss was a lot on him. he started burying himself in the gym, sleep, work etc & eventually he became really depressed. he would not get up out of bed and i could not take that. that was when i decided to revise her death, and this was like a week after she passed.

the moment i learned she was dead, i naturally entered the state of loss. so, i simply and quickly went over what state of mind i was currently in, and what state of mind i needed to be in.

now y’all know i love meditating <3 so ofc i meditated. the one i used is by edward art, i believe i’ve mentioned it before. but here’s the link 😌💘

so yeah after this meditation i had completely satisfied my imagination, i had a great feeling of serenity, and i was in the state of the wish fulfilled. + i let go of any need to control the 3d.

— reminder: don’t look at your 3d as something to change. things change when they change in consciousness/imagination. if you wanna manifest something, don’t point out your current circumstance as something that you need to change. be cool and fulfill it in imagination;)

— also sn: my boyfriend knows about the law but he doesn’t necessarily study or consciously use it. so, i didn’t tell him i was revising his mom’s death.

— and i had to continue to act like his mom was actually dead when i was around him, even tho at this point kay was 100% alive in imagination.

so in the morning, i would wake up and assume the state of fulfillment. throughout the day, when i would go check on my boyfriend, he always expressed his feelings, how i could help, and new ways he was trying to cope. honestly, seeing him so hurt and confused hurt me. and throughout this, one of the few things i always reminded myself was that, i’m not my emotions and i’m my thoughts, and neither of those things matter (in terms of manifesting).

another thing i always reminded myself of was the fact that i’m god, BUT i’m also human. so, the ‘god me’ was relaxed & satisfied. the god in me also didn’t have a hurting boyfriend with a dead mom. but the ‘human me’ did and he needed my comfort.

so that’s what i did, i comforted him because he was grieving the death of his mother. so what? i’m human, and i have human decency so ima comfort my baby.

HOWEVER, i didn’t attach myself to that (accept it). i didn’t look at me comforting him as “his mom’s dead and that’s final”, i just did it because he’s my bf and he’s hurt. but i still maintained fulfillment in imagination.

— i talk about this more in depth here. but basically the post acknowledges that yes, you’re god, but you’re also still human and you have a human life to respond to. so do that, respond to your life (when necessary) while simultaneously fulfilling the inner man.

as long as you continue to return to the state and fulfill SELF, you will manifest whatever it is you’ve fulfilled.

when it manifested

the night before it manifested, my bfs dad asked everyone (the family) over for brunch. just so everyone could be together during rough times and whatnot.

the next morning when we woke up, my bf.. it was like he completely reverted; he just went back to his regular self. i made sure to take a mental note of it.

as we were driving to his dads house he was acting very normal. all that pain, hurt, etc was not there. his whole energy was different. then what really got me was when we had got to a red light. he said “i already know my moms threw down, i wonder what she cooked”……….and i’m like, i know i’m not trippin. just went along with it and agreed with him cause what was i supposed to do lol😭?

so we pull up to the house and get to the door, and one of his brothers opened it. as we’re saying hi and walking further into the house we start smelling food and my bf goes “YUP! I KNEW IT!!”

then he walks into the kitchen and says “hey ma watchu in here cooking? it smells good”……. and his mom was literally standing there smiling before she gave him a hug.

this all happened naturally by the way. it was like… she never died😂😂 the power of revision yall!

anyways the whole afternoon went by like nothing ever happened.

i honestly thought it was pretty funny. knowing how they used to interact with each other while they were grieving kay’s death vs now was hilarious. and what makes it funnier is they never knew and never will 😂😂😂

so there y’all have it, how i revised my boyfriend’s mother’s death. sorry i made y’all wait so long:) i literally got so demotivated while trying to type this.

feel free to ask questions cause ik yall got some😩😂 love y’all 🫶🏾

[asdfghjklmals]

CRAVINGS✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. mentions of sex and suggestiveness at the end. WORD COUNT: 2.9k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, dadtobe!gojo, pregnant!oc, established couple.

SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend’s pregnancy cravings keep her up at night and she ends up waking up satoru because of it. AUTHOR'S NOTE: this all started because i was craving fried chicken. i love writing for pregnant oc gojo girlfriend. she is just so funny. 🤭 consider this my late happy birthday fic for satoru. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

toss. turn. toss. turn.

you felt satoru’s arm twitch as you kept tossing and turning in his embrace. the half-asleep sorcerer opened his eyes as they adjusted to the dark to look at you.

“you okay?” he asked as he murmured into the crevice of your neck.

he brought your body closer to his chest, stroking your cheek gently. you sighed, embarrassed to tell him what was running through your mind. your emotions have been all over the place during your pregnancy, so you were feeling vulnerable. pregnancy hormones were no joke.

you pouted your lips at him, “if i tell you, will you promise not to laugh at me?”

“why would i laugh at you?” satoru scoffed in disbelief. he reassured your feelings like he always did, “i know it’s been getting harder for you to sleep since baby gojo is growing so big and strong in your belly… so, tell me what’s wrong sweetheart.”

you pursed your lips and hesitated before leaning towards satoru’s ear to whisper to him. this was normal… right?

“satoru, baby gojo is violently craving a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

and you had to have it now.

satoru laid back down on his back and dropped his head on his pillow, he turned his head to stare back at you. he then glanced at his phone on the glass nightstand beside him, checking the time. all he knew was that it was an ungodly hour of the night.

3:42 am.

“right now?” he asked, “like… baby gojo doesn’t want it for breakfast instead?”

you frowned at your baby daddy and gave him your best puppy dog eyes that you knew he couldn’t say no to.

“yes, right now. for like… a midnight snack.” you replied with a twinge of guilt, “—but it’s okay, babe. i can make it myself. i know you have work in the morning.”

you turned away from satoru so you could roll over on your side of the bed to attempt to sit up. you could feel baby gojo kicking your side, happy that you were moving around at this time of night. your baby had always been extremely active while you were supposed to be sleeping.

“no, babe—” satoru interrupted you as he grabbed your arm, “i’ll get you—i mean—baby gojo a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. you stay here.”

you smiled sweetly at him and caressed his cheek, giving him an appreciative kiss.

satoru gojo would do anything for you, even if that meant he had to get out of bed at 3:42am to make his pregnant girlfriend a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when he had to wake up for work at six in the morning.

satoru took a deep breath and swung his long legs out of the warm and comfortable duvet. he rubbed his face with the palm of his hands before hopping out of the bed and into the kitchen.

even though you really wanted that peanut butter and jelly sandwich, you did feel bad that you woke satoru up on a work night. ever since shoko told him that all your cravings needed to be satisfied since that’s what his baby wanted to eat, he was always at your beck and call.

this wasn’t the first time the white haired sorcerer had to fulfill a ridiculous craving of yours. you’ve asked for extra crispy fried chicken in the middle of the night, finished large tubs of lactose-free ice cream, and would make the world’s spiciest noodles even though your heartburn was amplified tenfold during this pregnancy. you told satoru that you were going to eat whatever you wanted if you were gonna be having his baby.

you got up slowly from the bed, feeling your baby shift in your belly. small kicks attacked your left side as you laughed at your active baby. you opened the door of your bedroom to peek into the kitchen.

satoru was standing in front of the fancy digital toaster that megumi had bought him (with your credit card) for father’s day this year. satoru loved high tech gadgets, and knowing him, he always had to have the best in everything… even toasters.

you watched as your sleepy and shirtless boyfriend popped two pieces of whole grain bread into the toaster, grabbing the smooth peanut butter from the pantry and the sweet strawberry jelly from the fridge. your household had two types of peanut butter on hand at all times, one smooth and one chunky. satoru and megumi liked the chunky while you and tsumiki preferred the smooth.

you wrapped yourself in your robe and stepped out into the kitchen. you walked over to satoru, who’s cheek was resting in the palm of his hand, his elbow supporting him on the kitchen counter. he was waiting for your bread to finish toasting.

you snaked your arms around his bare chest, your belly preventing you from hugging him as tightly as you actually wanted to. you rested your cheek on his back.

“what are you doing out here, sweetheart?” satoru asked softly as he peeked behind his shoulder, “i was going to bring the sandwich to you.”

“i don’t want crumbs in our bed.” you replied innocently, “—and i just wanted to watch you.”

satoru turned to you and grinned, “a little creepy, but i like that.”

you glared at him playfully as he snuck a kiss on your cheek. you clung to his side as you watched him spread the peanut butter and jelly onto the perfectly toasted bread. he cut the sandwich into triangles, just how you liked it.

you sat across the kitchen island in the barstool, admiring your boyfriend’s shirtless figure. you laughed knowing that satoru would definitely be considered a ‘dilf’ once your baby was born.

he slid the plate to you and watched as your eyes lit up. he could practically see the stars dancing in your eyes. you were drooling over the sandwich that you were craving so violently just a moment ago.

you took a bite as the peanut butter, jelly, and toasted bread married flavors into your mouth. you swore you haven’t had such a delicious peanut butter and jelly sandwich before this moment.

“is it that good?” satoru chuckled. he was honestly curious. you could be a peanut butter and jelly sandwich spokesperson with the way you were eating that sandwich.

you licked your lips and your strawberry jellied fingers, replying with a mouth full of sandwich, “yes, thank you. baby gojo is so happy, babe. they’re doing somersaults in my stomach right now.”

satoru laughed at your ridiculous reply before swiping crumbs off your bottom lip with his thumb. he turned around to grab an empty glass cup from the kitchen cabinet and filled it with water. he slid the glass over to you.

“thank you.” you said with a smile before downing the glass of water.

satoru had always been an attentive boyfriend, but ever since he found out you were pregnant, he did all he could to be there for you in any way, shape, or form. he was present and involved, you couldn’t ask for a better partner. you couldn’t wait to see him be a father to your baby.

satoru patiently watched as you finished your last bite of your sandwich. you pushed yourself off of the barstool and took your plate to the sink, washing away the crumbs from your hands and plate.

he leaned against the kitchen counter, satisfied with himself, arms folded, “anything else before we head back to bed, sweetheart?”

with no hesitation, you blurted out, “baby gojo wants a hot chocolate.”

satoru blinked twice. at this moment, his baby was craving the most random things. he couldn’t even believe it. this was worse than when he went to buy you fried chicken in the middle of the night. you made sure you put the emphasis on ‘extra crispy’ and if it wasn't extra crispy, he couldn't come home.

“really, babe?” he asked, “you really want a hot chocolate? when was the last time you drank hot chocolate?”

you gave him the puppy dog eyes again, “it’s not me. it’s the baby—can you use the lactose-free milk?”

he stood in front of you and bent down to eye-level with your belly and pointed at your belly button.

“you—baby gojo—are asking for a lot in the middle of the night.” he said to your belly, “it’s a good thing i’m insanely in love with your mommy.”

you felt two kicks from baby gojo. you smiled at the sight of satoru talking to your stomach. he loved to speak to baby gojo as if they were already born. you were certain that your baby recognized yours and satoru’s voices because baby gojo would kick, twist, turn and throw punches when they heard satoru’s voice after he would come home from work or when he would stop by your office to escape his students. your baby loved his voice just as much as you did.

you sat back down in the barstool and watched satoru grab a mug from your mug collection. he recently added a pregnancy mug that he was very proud of.

“this is probably the most accurate mug you’ve bought yet.” you giggled. in a bright sparkly pink font, this one read ‘beware, due to the influence of pregnancy hormones, i could burst into tears or kill you in the next two minutes’.

“sometimes, i worry about you,” satoru teased as he poured your lactose-free milk into the mug and stirred a hot chocolate packet into it. “one minute you’re climbing me like a tree and the next you don’t want me to touch you. is that also because of your pregnancy hormones?”

you laughed shamelessly, “yes, sorry, the libido is off the charts some days.”

the white-haired sorcerer thanked god every day for your increased sex drive during your pregnancy. nowadays you were the one who initiated intimacy… and satoru gojo was not going to complain about that.

satoru put the mug of hot chocolate into the microwave to warm it up for you. he turned to face you as you both waited for the microwave to beep.

once the hot chocolate was done being warmed up, he guided you to the living room with the mug in his hand. satoru sat down on the plush white couch and patted the seat next to him, motioning for you to sit with him.

you obliged and made yourself comfortable. he grabbed your legs to put on top of his and handed you your hot chocolate. he draped a blanket on top of your laps. he placed his hand on your thigh and admired the pregnancy glow on your face in the warm and dim living room lights.

a sweet cup of hot chocolate, a handsome man cuddling you, a comfortable couch and warm blanket? what more could you ask for? you enjoyed any quality time with satoru as you got older and busier. quality time was something you’d keep near and dear to your heart, especially knowing that you weren’t going to be alone with him anymore in a short couple of months. baby gojo was going to be joining the circus soon.

“you know what i just realized?” satoru said out of nowhere as you blew on your hot chocolate.

you looked over at him, cocking your head to the side, “what?”

“we didn’t read week 22.” satoru stated. he was always on top of reading the ‘what to expect’ app with you. you watched as he stood up from the couch to quickly grab your phone from the bedroom nightstand for you.

once he returned to the living room, he made himself comfortable next to you again and swiped open your phone to find the app that you used to track baby gojo’s development.

“baby gojo is as big as a papaya.” satoru read, “baby gojo hit a huge milestone and is weighing at a whopping 1 lbs and is measuring 11 inches in length.”

“that’s our big and strong baby.” you cooed, caressing your belly with your free-hand, taking another sip of your hot chocolate.

“baby gojo’s grip, vision, and hearing are all getting stronger now! you might notice a protruding navel—” satoru lifted the blanket to check your belly button. you laughed to find a non-protruding one at the moment.

“—and possibly even bigger feet.” he finished reading. he peeked over to look at your feet.

“they’re just a little swollen.” you frowned.

“at a glance, even though baby gojo’s eyes are sealed shut, they can perceive light and dark now. shine a flashlight on your tummy and see if your little one moves—oh, babe, we have to try that out.”

you watched as satoru got up from the couch again to dig in the kitchen junk drawer for a flashlight.

“you need to clean out that drawer.” you nagged.

satoru brushed off your comment as he returned to your side, “yeah, yeah. i’ll do it later.”

he turned on the flashlight and pointed it directly on your belly. you immediately felt baby gojo move away from the light, surprising you and making you laugh out loud.

“did you feel anything?” satoru asked curiously. unfortunately, he still hasn't been able to feel baby gojo kick yet, you had hoped that he would be able to soon. only you were able to feel movement at the moment.

you nodded with a toothy smily, “yes. seems like our little one doesn’t like the flashlight.”

satoru grinned back at you. he sat back down and continued to read enthusiastically, “baby gojo is starting to hear and process sounds from inside your body so watch what you say… and baby's nervous system is sharpening the five senses, which means little fingers are learning to grab those tiny ears, nose and umbilical cord.”

you watched satoru’s slender fingers scroll slowly through the app. you gasped. your eyes started to well up with tears. you seemed to cry more easily now with the pregnancy hormones.

“satoru… it says my feet might not go back to normal after pregnancy.”

satoru knew exactly what question you'd ask. 'satoru would you still love me if my feet don't go back to normal after i give birth?'

“babe, it’s okay.” satoru wiped your crocodile tears as he comforted you, "and don't worry, i'll still love you."

“—what if i can't fit my shoes anymore?” you continued to frown, taking a sad sip of your hot chocolate.

satoru stroked your head before placing a kiss on your temple. leave it to you for the theatrics, you were his precious drama queen.

“sweetheart, if your feet don’t go back to normal, i’ll buy you every single pair of shoes you own in a new size.”

and satoru gojo could definitely afford to do just that.

you continued to pout as satoru continued to read the app.

“it says you might start experiencing braxton hicks. they’re like practice contractions.” he hummed, “and the app advises to take more magnesium and to work out… and that’s all for this week.”

you nodded, “i’ll call my doctor and ask about the magnesium. that should help with my leg cramps—and about the working out…”

“—we’ve been working out.” satoru commented slyly.

you glanced at him and sipped at your hot chocolate. even though satoru was keeping you company on the couch, he was probably exhausted. you thought that maybe he could call out of work tomorrow… guilty thoughts of keeping him awake filled your head.

“okay, baby gojo—” satoru leaned over to ask your belly, “is that all you’re craving for? last call in the kitchen. daddy wants to go back to sleep now.”

“yes,” you hummed, “—but mommy is craving for something now too.”

satoru squinted at you and booped your nose playfully, “mommy and baby gojo are the same at the moment. if you’re craving it, i’m sure the baby is too.”

“no, this one has nothing to do with the baby, satoru.” you told him confidently, hoping he’d understand.

he cocked his head to the side, wondering what else you could possibly be craving for at this time of night.

“what is it?”

you looked up at satoru with needy eyes before mumbling, “i want you.”

satoru stared at you for a couple seconds before he registered at what you were hinting at.

“oh. ohhhhhhh—i see where you’re going with this—” he grinned before replying to your sly innuendo of a request, “—well, how can i say no to that?”

you laughed out loud as satoru sat up quickly from the couch, taking you by the hand to lead you back to the master bedroom. you sat down on the edge of your bed, satoru towering over you to lean towards your ear.

he whispered, “you have some interesting pregnancy cravings, babe.”

© 2023 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

[midnightfictionlibrary]

Better Man - Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Better Man - Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Content : angst, fluff, friends to lovers, jealousy, sexual tension

Word Count : 2.4k

Summary : Anthony must rectify his rakish ways and wed, but he has a lot to think over if he doesn’t want to lose his dearest friend forever. 

A/N : I’ve been reading/watching Bridgerton again, so I had to write for my lovely Anthony. As always, pls like and reblog if you enjoy! 

Anthony raised his glass to his lips as he watched the rest of the “eligible young ladies” at the ball circle him, grateful for your presence at his side. 

“My, my. It is almost as if you are a vulture's prey.” You tease, fixing a delicate button on the wrist of your perfectly crisp, white glove. 

Anthony snorts at your comment. “Please, my lady. Vultures are much more interesting than the ladies circling my person.” He pauses, looking down at you fiddling with your button. He reaches out gently, “If I may,” he mutters quietly, reaching out to fix the offender. An electric jolt passes through you, and you have to keep your eyes on your glove to resist the urge to pull away quickly. You did not wish him to know how you felt about him. 

“Thank you, my lord.” You respond, nodding your head politely and giving him a small smile. He regards you for a moment before bowing and offering you his hand. 

“May I have this dance?” 

“I suppose.” You say, taking on a teasing tone again. Anthony outright smiles at this, leading you to the ballroom floor. It always came easy to dance with you, Anthony realized. It was as if you both could read each other’s next movements perfectly. After all, you had been friends since you were wee babes, crawling through the Bridgertons’ lush garden. You regard him slightly before saying “Have you found a suitable wife yet, Anthony?”

Anthony’s dark eyes settle on yours, and he has to keep from swallowing thickly. Something about the way you settled all of your attention on him had always made him nervous, always making his heart beat a bit too fast. “No.” he says quietly. “None of them are suitable. This is not to be a love match, strictly business, but I cannot imagine any of the women here as my life partner.” He looks down at you again, unable to read the look on your face for the first time in what felt like quite a while. 

“Well.” You say. “On my front I do not have any prospects. No one seems to wish to marry me.” 

“Why would that be?” Anthony questions, too quickly, he thinks. 

“It may have something to do with the fact that we seem to be attached at the hip at every ball we happen to grace with our presence.”

We. Anthony wants to shiver at that word, thinking about you being attached to him was too good to be true. You were much too good for a rake such as himself. His eyebrows knit together and he tilts his head slightly. “Should I leave you here amongst all these people on the ballroom floor?” Now he took on a teasing tone, secretly satisfied that he can pull an eyeroll or annoyed look from your otherwise prim and proper stature. 

You do roll your eyes, shaking your head at him slightly. “You leave me on this dancefloor by myself and I have no doubts even the most boring high society lady here would turn their nose up at you.” You pretend to sniff, as if your feelings were hurt. “And to think, I was under the impression you were my dearest friend.” 

Anthony dips you slightly as the song draws to a close. The vanilla perfume wafting from your exposed neck and up to him. It’s intoxicating to him and he rights the two of you quickly, clearing his throat as he steps back. “I thank you rather kindly for the dance, my lady.” You nod to him, watching as he walks away with a broad step. 

You furrow your brows, wondering why his attitude had changed suddenly, when you are approached by Lord Nikolai Andros, who asks you for a dance. You smile at him graciously, pleasantly surprised that he had approached you, and you would be able to dance with someone other than Anthony for once. 

Dancing with Anthony just made your feelings all the stronger, and you did not know how much longer you could endure being his dearest friend. You curtsy to Lord Andros, following gracefully as he spins you across the ballroom. You wondered idly why he so suddenly expressed an interest to dance with you, but it was exciting to dance with someone else. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel guilty, as if your dance card was to be filled by Anthony Bridgerton and Anthony Bridgerton alone. 

From across the ballroom, Anthony had his hands clenched at his sides, watching Andros spin you across the ballroom. You were much too good for Andros, and if he was a rake, Andros was a bigger one, known for not being particularly faithful to his late wife. 

Benedict slides up next to Anthony, following his gaze. “I say, is that Andros?” 

“Yes.” Anthony replies, voice clipped and tight. 

“Hm.” Benedict huffs, “She seems to be rather enjoying herself, wouldn’t you say, brother?” 

“It would appear so, yes, Benedict.” Anthony replies, trying to keep his voice from sounding too strained. 

Benedict smirked. “Yourself, however..” clamping his mouth shut with an innocent shrug when Anthony gives him a look suggesting he could kill. However, Benedict continues on, nudging his brother’s shoulder. “You love her.” 

Anthony opens his mouth, then closes it again, his perfect jaw set in anger, denial, or perhaps both. He shakes his head at Benedict, as if to say not here. He knows he has to be a better man for you, but the thought is too painful to bear at the moment, while you spin across the floor in another man’s arms. 

Benedict raises his hands slightly as he backs away from his brother, nodding his head in your direction again, where you were curtsying to Andros. Anthony feels heat rise in his chest as Andros maintains eye contact with you, and before he can comprehend what he’s doing, he strides back over to you. 

“My lady, would you like to promenade with some of the other young men and women in the garden? They have taken to admiring the rose bushes.” Anthony doesn’t wait for an answer before he gently grasps your elbow and steers you towards the open doors to the garden. Both of you pretend not to feel the butterflies that appear when the two of you touch. 

“Anthony, whatever are you doing?” You half whisper. “You did not even acknowledge Lord Andros.” 

Anthony leans in and whispers, almost harsh with you. “You cannot court that man.” 

You stop walking, pulling your arm out of his grasp. “I do not believe you are the authority on that matter, Lord Bridgerton.” 

“Do not use my title because you are vexed at me, little bird.” Anthony says, his childhood nickname for you slipping from his lips effortlessly. You narrow your eyes at him, and he knows that this is you demanding an explanation. He licks his lips and glances around at the other ball guests milling about. None of them seem any the wiser of the tiff the two of you were beginning to have. 

“I will stand here for as long as I possibly can. This overprotective nature is not unlike you, but you have never outright sought me out to tell me to not court a gentleman.” 

Anthony sighs, starting to become frustrated. “He..is of the rakish variety.”

You snort. 

Anthony’s perplexed eyes meet yours and you shrug. “And you are not, Anthony?” 

“He is worse. He had many a mistress while his wife was ill in their marriage bed.” 

You grimace and Anthony nods almost smugly. “See. You are much too good for a man like that.” 

“If I am much too good, why am I yet to be wed?”

“I…” Anthony starts, faltering over his words. He had no answer. 

You step closer to him, your voice low. “I will tell you the reason. It is because of you.” 

Anthony swallows, looking down at you. You are much closer to him than he usually allowed himself to be, and your intoxicating scent and god, the way the light in your eyes trapped him made him more than nervous. “Me?” he questions. 

“Yes, Anthony. You. Every person in the ton believes me to belong to you. They pity me. Oh poor girl,” You start to mock, affecting your tone “that Lord Bridgerton is just stringing her along.” Your nostrils flare. “However, here you are, deciding to marry, using me as a pawn to get these most delightful young ladies to leave you alone.” You feel tears starting to sting your eyes, the hurt of not being the object of Anthony’s affections threatening to spill over. “I am not willing to be your pawn any longer, Anthony.” 

Anthony watches your face, devastated as he realizes that you feel the same longing for him as he feels for you. “Little bird, I-”

You hold up a hand. “No. I do not wish to hear what you have to say to me any longer. It is time I retire, anyhow. Goodnight, Lord Bridgerton.” You say, turning on your heel quickly, just as hot tears begin to flow down your cheeks. Rushing out to your carriage, you ignore your mother, choosing to spend the ride home in heartbreaking silence. Your mother says nothing, just clasps your hand gently, which makes you cry all the more. 

The next morning, Anthony is pacing in his study, wondering if he should call on you. Would you even want to see him? Should he just leave you be? Would it be better to give up everything the two of you shared so he did not cause you such pain again? 

Before Anthony can make up his mind, you walk through the door to his study. His back is turned to you, and you can hear him audibly sigh. 

“Benedict, I truly do not have the mind to-” He stops as he turns around, mouth dry. There you stood, a beautiful pale purple dress accentuating the very air of loveliness that seemed to follow you wherever you went. 

“Hello, Anthony.” You say quietly, watching as he fumbles, setting his bourbon glass down shakily and coming around the front of his desk. 

“You have given up calling me Lord Bridgerton, then?” He asks, his voice sounding strangely strained. 

“Yes. I apologize for being cross with you yesterday evening. I just..” You pause, and Anthony takes this as his opportunity to come toward you. He comes close, looking down at you with his beautiful dark eyes. 

“What is it?” He asks, afraid of what your answer may be. He was expecting you to tell him that you never wished to see him again, and he would have to accept that and let go of you. He desperately prayed that you did not come to lock him out of your life forever. 

“I have fallen in love with you, Anthony. I know how you feel about love, because of your father. But I cannot sit by idly while you look for a wife that is not me. I am going to court Lord Andros, and you will have to accept that, because I cannot allow you to look over me, when all I have wanted for as long as I can remember is the reciprocation of my feelings from you.” 

Anthony stood there, shocked beyond belief. You did feel the same way about him. He was not making up the pained look you had on your face at the ball the previous night. He felt as if someone had reached inside his chest and squeezed his heart, and he could hear his ears ringing. He did not know what to say. 

“I will take my leave from you.” You say, turning and making your way back to the large oak study door. 

Suddenly, Anthony snaps out of his stupor. “No!” He almost yells, quickly moving to place his hand on the door, barring you from opening it. This is the closest the two of you have been in quite a while. Your bodice touching his chest, his nose almost touching yours. You inhale sharply, gazing up at him. “Let me explain my wretched behavior darling, but please do not take your leave of me.” Anthony pleads, his voice dripping with desperation. Taken aback, you give him a tiny nod, still mesmerized by the proximity in which the two of you stood. 

Anthony glances at the door, then to your face, and then he gently brings his hands up to cradle your face. Your eyes widen, and his brows furrow. 

“I…”He bites his bottom lip, his eyes flicking to your lips before sighing. “I long for you. I long for your attention. I cannot sleep without thinking of you. I cannot read a book or discuss politics without thinking of what you may say or how you may react. I long for your company when I awake in the morning and long after I have gone to bed. My soul desperately aches for you as if you are a piece missing from it. Seeing you with Andros solidified this feeling for me even more. Watching another man take your hand in his…I could have sobbed at the sight of it. You haunt every part of my being and I cannot deny it any longer.” 

“Anthony…” You breathe out, eyes roaming his beautiful face. 

“I love you. I love you, I love you.” He says, bringing his face closer to yours each time he says it. “I am terrified of love, my little bird, but I love you so deeply that if you will have me, I will spend the rest of my days cherishing you.” He breathes out, as if he had been holding in a breath, and he leans his forehead against yours gently. 

You reach up, using a finger to smooth the furrow in his brow. “I love you most ardently, Anthony Bridgerton.”

Anthony is so relieved, he leans in and captures your lips in his without thinking clearly. Worried he may have made a mistake kissing you before you were to be wed, he tries to pull away. 

You grab his lapel and keep him close, smiling into his lips. 

“Marry me.” He breathes out, running a finger along your bottom lip after you’ve pulled back from him. 

“The answer has always been yes.” You whisper back, gazing at him lovingly. Anthony grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead, cherishing the feeling of having you in his arms. He cannot wait for you to be by his side for the years to come. He hums contentedly, hugging you as he should have done so very long ago.

[nieamo]

Lipstick

Summary: You're backstage with your girlfriend Rhea getting ready for her comeback

"10 more minutes Rhea, then we need you on stage" a member of the RAW production staff tells her before walking away. You're leaning over her while she's sitting more or less patiently on her chair, waiting for you to be done with your final touches on her make-up. "Stop fidgeting, I‘m almost done" you say with a warning tone. "Sorry, I guess I‘m just pretty nervous about coming back and all. Kind of feels like I‘ve been away for years and I'm really excited to be back even if I don't fight today but I still worry tha-" you stop her rambling by laying a finger on her lips and then tilt her chin up to look into her eyes "Hey, stop worrying for a second and listen to me. You have absolutely no reason to be worried. You are Rhea fucking Ripley! No one can live up to you and everyone out there knows it. So wipe that worried frown of your face, get up and get ready to kick some ass! Well maybe do the ass-kicking part figuratively, today's supposed to be just about showing your face again."

Rhea smiles and looks up at you lovingly. "What would I do without you?" "Crash and die" you respond smirking down at her. "Oho someone's feeling confident today." she says and cocks an eyebrow in a challenging way. "Well someone's gotta get you all riled up for the show" you respond. "Then you better be sure you can handle the consequences. Because trust me, if I don‘t get to fight today, I‘m sure as hell not going to go easy on a brat like you." she threatens. You grin slightly before leaning down and whispering into her ear: "You think that's going to scare me off? Try me, Mami." As soon as those last words left your mouth Rhea jumps to her feet and steps impossibly closer, slightly towering over you. "Ah ah ah not yet though, I‘m still not done with your makeup. Your lipstick is still missing." She sighs and lets you finish your work although this time she keeps standing right there, only millimeters in front of you, seemingly counting the seconds until you're done. "Alright I‘m d-" but you can‘t even finish that sentence before she picks you up, presses you against the wall and starts kissing you. You immediately start kissing her back and tightly grip onto her neck and shoulders. But before things could go any further there's a knock on the door and the same assistant as before says "3 minutes. We really need you in position now Rhea!" before hurrying away again. You reluctantly pull back from her lips and she grins saying: "Don't think we're done here. I want you packed up and ready to go as soon as I get off that stage understood?" "Yes" you reply and quickly add ", Mami" when she gives you a warning glare. Satisfied with that response she lets you down and turns to leave after giving you a quick slap on the ass. But you stop her and turn her around again saying "Wait! I have to redo your lipstick."

hellooo this was my first short little imagine. i‘ve been desperately craving some rhea fics so i thought i'd just start writing some myself. feel free to let me know what you think and thanks for reading :)

[beneathstarryskies]

Hi hi hi there!

Could I please request a smutty something having to do with Astarion and him drinking my blood while having sex? Thanks!

Warnings: blood sucking (obviously), fem!reader, oral (f receiving), penetration (p+v), creampie • word count: 2,262 • a/n: I got a lil carried away on this one lol

Astarion tries his damndest to keep his hunger in check when he is close to you. You already give him so much - so willingly at that - he couldn’t bring himself to burden you with the random bouts of bloodlust he feels at times. Not because he knows you wouldn’t give in to his whims. Quite the opposite. He can already picture you giving him that sweet smile and baring to him that pretty little neck, inviting him to take and take and take some more. Despite your willingness to stand up to him about your morals, you hardly have the strength to truly deny him anything he wants. 

After a while, the bloodlust begins popping up during the most inopportune times. Bathing with you in the large tub, holding you close as you rest against his chest draws his attention to the curve of your neck, tempting him to bite when you’re so trusting and vulnerable. Having you spread out on the bed while he’s buried between your legs only makes him wonder if the blood would taste sweeter if he bit into your inner thigh. On the same note, he imagines driving himself deep inside your tight heat and biting into your neck to hear your sounds of pleasure mixed with a cry of pain…You can try to tame a vampire, but at the end of the day he will always be a predator. 

Maybe that’s why he begins pulling away from you, spending more time alone and wandering the streets at night. Finally, he has the nerve to ask you if he should consider finding a different way to feed. He’d fed upon animals before, he’d be willing to do it again if it meant he didn’t lose control and drain his beloved. The only person who has ever truly cared for him…

“Why would you want to do that?” you ask him, feeling a little hurt at the assumption you didn’t want to allow him to drink from you any longer. 

“It just doesn’t seem economical that you have to bear the burden alone,” he explains in that voice that’s dripping with sweet manipulation. “I’m only thinking of what’s best for you, darling.” 

‘And trying to keep myself from tearing you apart…’ he thinks. 

“I suppose it does make sense,” you agree. 

He nods, seemingly satisfied with the conversation. He stalks out that night in search of prey, and you’re left lying alone in the bed wondering where it had all gone wrong. The act of letting him feed on you had been the first step to bonding with him. Like a feral cat, Astarion found himself slowly growing closer to the one who provided him sustenance without asking for anything in return. Eventually, he’d allowed you to even touch him while he did it, running your fingers through his hair and clinging onto his shoulders. Then came the night he’d taken too much. You hadn’t even been angry with him over it. You’d blamed yourself for not letting him know in time. As you’d laid in your bed roll shivering from the cold brought on by blood loss, he’d even tried to hold despite knowing his cold skin wouldn’t offer much help. 

The nights pass with each of you alone until one night when he’s preparing to venture out once more, you grab his hand. Your eyes are desperately peering into his, trying to convey all of the feelings you struggle to say out loud. 

“Stay,” you whisper. 

“Darling, I should feed.” 

“Please,” you whine and tug on his hand with enough strength that he almost drops back into bed beside you. “Just one night, please. I’ll bring you a rabbit or something tomorrow. Please. Just stay.” 

His eyes soften when he hears your pleading. The new arrangement had taken him away from you during the key few hours of the night when you could be together without worrying about the sun. He places his palm on your cheek and sighs softly. 

“I suppose I have been sneaking away a lot lately,” he concedes. He sits down on the bed beside you. “I just wanted to make sure I was feeding well, and not burdening you.” 

“I thought you were beginning to hate me,” you chuckle softly despite the relieved tears brimming along your lash line. 

“Oh, darling. I had no idea that’s what was going on in that pretty head of yours,” he kisses you softly. “Why didn’t you say so?” 

“I don’t know. I just assumed I’d made it clear I don’t find you to be a burden, so the only explanation was that…You know, you were pulling away.”

“And you were just going to let a beauty like me go?” he teases you although his hand on your thigh is gentle and reassuring. 

“So, will you stay?” you plead again. 

“Hm, let me think on it,” he says as he stands up and begins undoing the laces of his shirt and untucking it from his pants. “Should I?” He removes his shirt and tosses it onto the chair nearby. “Perhaps, I will.” 

He kicks off his shoes and removes his pants before crawling back into the bed with you. His hand slowly moves up the hem of your nightshirt. 

“It seems you are,” you giggle. “Unless you intend on going out in those adorable underpants.” 

“Rest assured, my adorable underpants are for your eyes only.” 

He smirks before leaning in to kiss you deeply, slowly pushing you down onto the bed so you’re pinned beneath him. His hands slowly move down your sides. It always awes him how warm your body feels, and he instinctively seeks out to take it in. He pulls your nightshirt off and tosses it aside just to feel you against him, your warmth seeping into his being. He pulls you closer and begins nibbling on your collarbone. 

“Astarion,” you giggle. 

“Mm, I think you should be moaning my name. Not giggling it.” 

He moves lower, letting his fangs graze against your skin. He used to worry about that. He thought it’d bother you, remind you of what kind of monster he is. Until the day you’d shyly admitted you liked how it felt, it turned you on. He carefully drags them over your warm breast before sucking on your nipple. As a moan falls like a song from your throat, he flicks his tongue over the pert bud. He continues until you’re writhing and whimpering then he moves to the next breast, lavishing in it in the same lewd attention. Astarion knows how to work a body into a craze, but none have delighted him the way you do. Every moan, every quiver, every soft breath of his name falling from your lips is like a gift to him. 

“So responsive tonight, have I truly neglected my sweetheart so much?” he asks before kissing your tummy. If you do answer, he’s too busy kissing and licking and nibbling on every curve of your body until he’s nestled between your legs. 

“Astarion,” you gasp when you feel his breath on your dripping cunt. 

“Oh, that’s more like it,” he chuckles. 

He presses a soft kiss to your mound before using his nimble fingers to part your folds. He feels his body stir with delight at the sight of your flushed, wet pussy. He explores the curves and tender flesh with his tongue before wrapping his mouth around your clit. His hands hold your thighs apart, allowing him to devour you as deeply as he desires. He keeps savoring the taste of your sweet arousal with the same appreciation one might use to sample an expensive wine. He can almost taste the orgasm building in your core. He can sense the quickening of your pulse and smell the increase of your hormones. 

“I’m gonna…” 

“I know, darling. Let go for me.” 

He returns to his ministrations as though his very being depends on it. Your thighs tremble around his head and the moans falling from your lip are like music to his pointed ears. You throw your head back as you feel the tightening in your core threatening to break at any second. 

Astarion suckles on your clit and moans against your cunt. It’s enough to drive you mad. The coil snaps inside of you, releasing waves of nerve-numbing pleasure. You tug on his white hair gently and your hips buck slightly against his face. He keeps you suspended in a place where time stands still, and it’s only you and him at this moment. That is until you let out one final cry of pleasure and fall back into a relaxed puddle on the mattress. Astarion smiles when he lifts his head from between your thighs, a look of smug satisfaction on his features. 

“I suppose it has been much too long since I’ve done that,” he admits before climbing over your body.

 He presses soft, sensual kisses on your lips before pushing his boxers down and kicking them off. He takes your hand and guides it to his aching erection. A hiss of pleasure escapes him when your warm, soft hand wraps around his length and you start to stroke him with practiced skill. 

“Do you feel what you do to me, darling? After all this time, just the smell of you can drive me to madness,” he whispers huskily against your ear. 

You’re lost for words, as you so often find yourself when Astarion speaks such passionate words. It had been an adjustment to learn when he was toying with you and when he was sincere. As time went on, he became more sincere than manipulative. It was a gradual change that came the more you proved your care for him and the more you’d earned his trust. Now when you look into his eyes, you see such unwavering devotion you feel like such a fool for having doubted him. 

“I love you,” is the best you can do in response, but the sound of those words still sends a shiver down his spine and warms his chest in a way he never thought he’d feel again. 

“I love you too,” he whispers. It’s still painful for him to say at times, for fear the vulnerability will be turned on him one day. Instead, you release his cock and spread your thighs, baring all for him. Invite him once more to take what he desires from you, proving your willingness to give him everything if that’s what it takes. 

He guides the weeping tip to your entrance and takes a moment to tease you slightly. He presses the head against your whole just to hear you let out a pleading whine, then pulls away again. He repeats the motion until you’re trembling with need, then he thrusts into you with graceful precision. You both gasp as your bodies connect. Your hands almost instinctively grab onto his ass, squeezing and pushing him forward. 

“It feels so good,” you moan. 

“Divine,” he grunts as he begins thrusting slowly. His hand rests at the back of your head, tangled in your hair. 

Your body begins moving along with his in a sensual, lustful dance. How many times the two of you must have made love like this, but it always feels like the first time. The thrill of it all is never lost on you, and the comfort shared in the act of being so close to one another and knowing your bond is deeper than either thought possible only adds to it. 

Astarion watches you with hungry eyes. His gaze moving from your lips to the curve of your exposed neck, and his mouth waters. Just the thought of biting into your neck and drinking of your blood while he’s so intimately intertwined with you riles him up further. His thrusts quicken, becoming more frantic as a fresh wave of arousal hits him. You gasp when he begins kissing your neck and you can feel the sharp point of his fangs against your skin. 

“Bite me,” you whisper. “Please.” 

He wants to hesitate, to be a good partner to you and assure your consent before continuing. But he just can’t. The hunger, the lust…It’s all too much to fight against. You cry out in pain and ecstasy at once when his fangs pierce your skin. The wound is deep, but never deep enough to be fatal. He would never forgive himself if he did that. It’s just enough for the coppery tang of your blood to hit his tonge, and he begins to suck on the wound to bring forth more. Your mind spins as the icey numbness on your neck conflicts with the white hot pleasure in your core. 

Without warning, a second orgasm rips through you. Your nails dig into his back as you cry out. Astarion only releases your neck because the steady pulsing of your walls brings him to the edge as well. He kisses you, neither of you caring about the blood staining his lips, as he fills you with his seed. As you both come down from the intensity of your shared bliss, he returns once more to the puncture wounds on your neck. He suckles gently then begins licking it to soothe the ache until finally the bleeding stops.

You’re still holding onto him like your life depends on it, so he contents himself with laying his head on your chest. He can hear your heart beating against his ear as you run your fingers through his curls. 

Against all odds, Astarion is content. 

[akixxsstuff]

Masters Who Serve (Black Butler Smut Part 1)

Sebastian Michaelis x female reader

Slight NSFW content // Part one

Summary: You discover that you're little brother Ciel sold his soul for ultimate care and protection to his demon butler, Sebastian. But when you offer the same exchange to Sebastian he declines since he...

already had another proposition in mind.

"The queen is hosting a charity ball tonight so please dispose of any intruders to ensure her safety".

"Please bring me another cup of tea once you've finished with the laundry".

"Cancel my appointment with the seamstress this afternoon".

Every request of yours was immediately met by your demon butler, Sebastian.

"On your knees now mistress, my cock isn't very patient".

"Moan louder for me lass, I want everyone to hear you".

"Strip. I want to see every inch of your naked body right here and right now".

And every request of his was immediately met by you.

Protection and care in exchange for sex was the deal between you two until death did you part. With how rentless you both were with your demands the question always remained: who was really the master in this contract?

Was it you for having Sebastian constantly sacrifice himself for your safety? Or was it Sebastian for having you abandon any task in order to satisfy his lust? Was it you for working him to the bone with every kind of duty imaginable? Or was it him for not allowing you to ever be married or to sleep with another person?

As you ponder on all of this your mind takes you back to the very day you made your exchange...which was also the same day you lost your virginity.

"Sebastian! Take my soul too! I want you to protect and care for me just as you do to Ciel" you cried.

"Doesn't that seem a little unnecessary since my services also already benefit you? You are his sister after all my lady" Sebastian queried.

"Yes but once Ciel has his revenge you'll both be gone forever and I can't uphold the family name by myself. Together or alone me and Ciel can't do anything without you so just take my soul!".

"To be quite frank with you mistress I do not wish to go the same troubles once again for just another meal" Sebastian groaned.

"There must be something else that want" you whimpered.

Sebastian chuckled, "Because of your brother's contract I can not say that there isn't".

"Please Sebastien tell me" you begged.

"A human as beautiful as you would do perfectly in satisfying my carnal desires, you ought to receive some training of course but within time I know you'll be the perfect plaything" Sebastian smirked.

"Y-you're asking for my purity? We're not betrothed S-sebastian" you stammered while flushed.

Butterflies filled your stomach as you felt the silk of Sebastian's glove caress your cheek. "You're as sweet and sensitive as a fresh bouquet of orchids mistress, and I know you'll flourish immensely from some much-needed attention".

He gazed adoringly into your eyes and brushed your lip with his thumb, he was so close that you could smell the vanilla he was baking with earlier.

"I suppose you're right...what are your conditions?" you whispered in a daze. "To fornicate with me in anyway and anytime I desire as well as to never be betrothed nor fornicate with anyone but me" Sebastian devilishly smiled.

"You'll truly never allow me to fall in love? To be betrothed?" you whimpered as your heart sank. Sebastian leaned in even closer, "No husband will be able to protect you like me, isn't that the entire reason for this discussion? Y/N?".

You gasped as you felt Sebastian leave a trail of tender kisses down your neck, "Tell me your deepest desires...please...I need you" he softly groaned.

"Y-you will obey all my c-commands until my d-death, you will n-never discuss this n-negotiation with anyone but us and you will never lie to me" you choked as you felt the tip of his tongue glide slowly further down your neck.

You were in such a overwhelming daze of lust that you couldn't think clearly, which Sebastian took full advantage of, "I know you crave for more mistress so pledge to follow our contract". "I concur wholeheartedly" you breathlessly moaned without a second thought.

You weren't aware that all this passionate affection from Sebastian was nothing but a mere manipulation tactic. A hopeless romantic like you would never agree so readily to a contract of sexual slavery with a demon, so he needed to lure you in and you had completely fallen for it.

[hoomandoescosplay]

🍋Twist of Fate | Alastor x Reader x Lucifer🍋

This oneshot is a lemon so please take this into consideration before reading!! ✨

─── ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ ───

I sit on the lobby’s sofa waiting for Lucifer to finish his conversation with Charlie as I hear a slight static noise coming from somewhere. I glance around the room but don’t see anyone or anything. Standing up I cross my arms, tilting my head slightly in the process. “You know it’s really creepy to watch someone.” I say out loud.

“Oh? Well, forgive my rudeness, it’s a nasty habit of mine.” Alastor smirks as he slowly appears from out of the shadows. As soon as I called him out the static noise disappeared, piquing my interest. “Habits are hard to break, I'll give you that.”

“Mmm, I suppose so. Now, you’re Lucifer’s little play thing, correct?” Alastor walks up to me, his cane tapping along the ground with every step he takes. “Play thing?” I scoff, offended. “Do you think we don’t have a serious relationship? That’s quite an assumption to make.”

“Oh, I have no doubt it’s serious.” Alastor says as he stops a few feet in front of me, his smile growing a little wider as he speaks. “I’m just surprised Lucifer could keep someone like you happy, darling.”

I grimace slightly at his bold statements. “And what exactly do you mean by that?” He chuckles as he gently grabs my chin, his hand cold and slender. He moves my head up as he speaks. “He’s simply too boring for you. Someone such as yourself needs someone a bit more entertaining.”

I try to move away to create some distance between us but his grip on my chin is firm. “And what exactly do you consider “more entertaining” means for someone like me?”

His smirk widens, his red, glowing eyes never leaving mine. “Someone who’ll give you all of the attention you could possibly desire. Someone more than willing to satisfy your needs...” His other hand comes up to my waist, slowly wrapping around it. “In every way imaginable.”

“And you don’t think Lucifer does that for me?” I question as my eyes narrow. What kind of game is he playing at right now? “Oh, I’m sure he tries.” Alastor leans forward to whisper in my ear, the hand around my waist moving up my back. “But he’s just too soft, too gentle. A proper lady such as yourself needs something a bit more… rough.”

My lips part slightly as he whispers into my ear before he pulls his head back. “And who’s to say I’d want something like that.” I respond lowly. “Oh, darling, I know how to read people…” Alastor’s grin somehow manages to grow wider, his hand on my chin starting to trail along my jawline. “...and I have a feeling that while Lucifer can please you, he can never truly satisfy you.”

I can’t help the shiver that runs down my spine and I mentally curse myself for it. Alastor chuckles lowly, feeling the way I shiver. “Mmm….I’m right, aren’t I? There’s something deep down inside you that’s unfulfilled. Like you’d enjoy something a little darker, a little rougher than what your King can give you.”

“And if you are right?” I question as I look up at him through slightly hooded eyes. Alastor slowly moves closer to me, his hand on my lower back pushing me forward so that my body presses against his.

My hands go up to grip his shoulders from how close we are. “Then I’d be more than happy to remedy that, my dear….” He says as he leans down so that his mouth is next to my ear again, his breath cold against my skin. “In every. Single. Way.”

My mind is fuzzy from his words as I battle between what is right verses what I so badly want. He slowly begins to trail his other hand down my body, his touch light and gentle. “There’s no need to fight it. No need to tell yourself it’s wrong…”

He then moves his head down to my neck, the touch of his lips cold against my skin. “Why not let yourself have the one thing you truly want…?” Fuck. Why do I want him so bad? Why does he have such an effect on me?

The feeling of Alastor’s lips on my skin is enough to make chills run down my spine. He slowly plants gentle kisses upon my neck, his other hand moving down to my hips as he keeps me tightly pressed against him.

My thoughts are broken as I feel another pair of hands wrap around my waist, trying to create distance between Alastor and I. Alastor lets out a growl, looking up to see Lucifer standing behind me.

Alastor’s grip on me tightens, making Lucifer scowl. “Let go of her.” My breathing is slightly heavier as my checks are completely flushed. Alastor grins, his eyes staring directly into Lucifer’s. “And if I don’t? What are you going to do, hmmm?”

“I won’t ask again. Let. Her. Go.” Lucifer’s hands tighten around my waist, wanting to pull me back. Alastor’s hands grip my hips harder in return, pulling me closer and causing our bodies to press against one another. “No. I don’t think I will.”

Their grips get increasingly tighter on my hips and waist as I glance between them. This is surprisingly very attractive. The two of them continue to pull me back and forth as they try to get me away from one another.

“I won’t keep playing this game with you. Let her go.” Lucifer’s voice has an edge to it this time making Alastor even more pleased. “Why should I? She’s so much more responsive with me than she ever is with you. She wants me, Lucifer, can’t you see that?”

“I want both of you.” I finally breathe out, making them both pause for a moment, processing my statement. They look at each other for a moment before their gazes are both on me. “Is that so?” Alastor purrs, raising an eyebrow.

“Please.” I say breathlessly as my hands grip tighter onto Alastor’s shoulder while I lean into Lucifer’s chest. Alastor and Lucifer both make a noise at my reaction, both of them obviously not expecting me to give in like this.

Lucifer’s voice is low and deep, his breath warm against my skin. “You know we aren’t fond of one another….” I repeat myself again, this time with a small whine. “Please.”

They share a look again before their grins match one another. Alastor chuckles lightly as he grabs my chin once more. “I suppose we could share you.” My eyes immediately meet Alastor’s own as my breath hitches.

Alastor grins, his hand slowly moving to wrap around my throat. “But I get to have you first, since I’m the one who got you all riled up in the first place.” I feel Lucifer grumble from behind me but he doesn’t object to it.

“What’s wrong, Lucifer? Can’t handle that you’re not the one who made her this excited?” “Shut up.” Lucifer snaps, glaring down at Alastor, who only laughs in response.

“Mmm, I don’t think I will.” Alastor says as he turns his attention back to me, his grip on my throat growing a little tighter. “Now, where should we start?”

“Bedroom.” I say quietly. “Mmm, good girl.” Alastor murmurs as he grabs my hand and begins to pull me in the direction of the bedroom. Lucifer is on our heels, practically seething as Alastor leads me away.

As soon as we get to Alastor’s room both of their hands are immediately back on me. Alastor grabs my throat as he begins to kiss me aggressively. As he’s doing this Lucifer moves his hands up my body, giving me small bites on my neck and shoulder.

Both of their touches make me shiver and I can’t stop the moans from escaping me. Alastor’s grip on my neck tightens as he pushes his tongue into my mouth, wanting to deepen the kiss.

Lucifer runs his tongue up my neck before lightly nipping my skin, his hands slowly moving to unzip my dress. Once my tongue meets Alastor’s, he explores my mouth eagerly. Lucifer gently pulls my dress down, his hands beginning to explore my body.

A small gasp leaves my mouth as one of Lucifer’s hands goes to massage my breast. All of these different sensations are already making my legs feel weak.

Alastor’s grasp on my neck finally loosens and he pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting our mouths together. “Looks like she’s enjoying herself already.” He chuckles as he watches me, his eyes darkened with lust.

My hands immediately go towards Alastor’s shirt, working to unbutton it as I try to level my breathing. Alastor’s eyes watch my hands as I unbutton his shirt, the smirk on his face growing.

As my hands work fast to undo his shirt Lucifer’s free hand travels down to my clit, beginning to rub it in slow deliberate motions. My hands immediately pause from his touch as my legs shake slightly. “Fuck.” I groan out.

Alastor’s usually smile turns into a slightly more agitated expression as my hands stop moving. Alastor grabs my face, his grip a little too harsh, and forces me to look at him. “I didn’t say you could stop, did I?”

I shake my head as my hands continue to unbutton the last few buttons on his shirt. As I get to the last one Lucifer starts to move his fingers slightly faster making my breath hitch again.

Alastor’s hands move to my hips, gripping them tightly to keep me steady. “Watch it, Lucifer.” He grumbles as he watches me squirm in his grip. “I’m the one who gets her first remember?”

“I’m reminding you who’s more important, Alastor.” Lucifer says as he squeezes my breast, making a small moan escape my lips. Alastor scowls, not enjoying the fact that Lucifer is making me moan. “Keep touching her like that and you won’t be able to touch her at all, Lucifer.”

I whimper slightly as Lucifer’s hand stops moving. Alastor smirks a bit as he looks me up and down, his eyes dark and wanting. “Good girl…now finish removing my shirt.” He orders me.

My hands immediately go to take off his shirt, letting it drop to the ground. “There you go, such an obedient little thing.” Alastor murmurs as he leans down to my ear.

One of my hands goes to rub Lucifer’s growing erection through his pants as I reply to Alastor. “Mhm.” Alastor groans in response to me rubbing Lucifer, not enjoying the fact that I’m pleasing him and not himself. “You can stop doing that anytime now, darling.” He grumbles as he watches.

“But you’ve been getting all the attention.” I say as I look up at him through my eyelashes. “I said I wanted both of you.” Alastor growls lowly, the sound making chills run down my spine. “You’re a tease, darling…but I suppose I can’t fight you on that.” He says as he looks up at Lucifer.

Lucifer lets out a small moan as I continue to rub him. My other hand goes to travel up Alastor’s chest. Alastor shudders slightly, clearly enjoying that I’m touching him. This only annoys Lucifer more as he watches me continue to tease both of them.

Alastor’s eyes darken as more noises come out of Lucifer’s mouth. “If you want to please him so bad…” Alastor starts off before yanking me to be pressed up against his back. “Then feel free to continue but I get to please you as well.”

I can feel Alastor’s erection press up against me, making a whimper leave my lips. My hands make quick work of Lucifer’s shirt and pants, having them all on the floor in the blink of an eye. After pulling down his boxers I take his cock in my hand, pumping it back and forth.

A deep growl comes from Lucifer as he feels my hand on him, his eyes closing in pleasure. Alastor is watching us carefully, one of his hands on my hips slowly making its way down to my core.

My legs squeeze together slightly as Alastor teases my clit. Applying a feather light touch to it. My free hand grips onto Lucifer’s shoulder as I continue to pump him back and forth.

Alastor’s hand parts my legs away from each other before he starts to rub circles on my clit. A small moan escapes me from his touch, making me squeeze Lucifer’s cock slightly tighter.

This makes Lucifer let out a grunt as he throws his head back, seemingly enjoying the feeling of my hand around him. Alastor doesn’t enjoy it nearly as much, slipping a finger into me.

My hand stops moving as I feel Alastor’s finger move in and out of me. I begin to pant slightly from the feeling of his finger curving ever so slightly. “Fuck. More please.”

Alastor’s hand pauses for a moment. “What was that?” He asks as he waits for me to repeat myself again. He knows I will, and he just wants to hear me beg him. “No no no. Please don’t stop.”

“Why should I continue when your own hand has stopped moving for your dear boyfriend.” He chuckles. I let out a small whine before I continued pumping Lucifer, my thumb rubbing his tip every so often.

Both of them let out moans from my actions, though Alastor clearly wants to be the one to receive my attention. “Much better, good girl.” Alastor mutters, his praise making me shudder.

He inserts another finger before moving in and out of me again making me shutter. Lucifer rests his head in the crook of my neck, much to Alastor’s dismay.

“That’s enough.” Alastor says lowly as he notices how close Lucifer is to his own release. I remove my hand from cock as Alastor removes his fingers from me and pulls me towards the bed.

Alastor pushes me onto the bed, his eyes raking over my body, looking me up and down as he removes the rest of his clothes. Lucifer grumbles from being denied his release.

He ignores Lucifer entirely as he climbs on top of me, settling between my legs. “Keep your attention on me, darling.” He says as he looks down at me, his eyes burning with lust.

I nod my head as my arms immediately wrap around his neck. Alastor’s lips immediately attach themselves to mine, his tongue pushing past my lips so he can taste me. One of his arms holds him up over me while the other hand goes down to my hip, grabbing it and pulling me against him.

As soon as he has me where he wants he takes the hand on my hip to line himself up with my entrance. Alastor finally pulls his lips away from mine, panting heavily as he looks down at me.

He takes a moment to watch me in this state, loving the way his actions have affected me. “You ready, darling?” He asks, his voice low and rough with need.

I shake my head quickly. “Yes. Fuck please. I’m so ready.” That’s all he needs to hear as he roughly shoves himself into me, a loud moan escaping my lips. Even though the wave of pleasure rushing through me I can hear Lucifer’s breath hitch as he watches.

Alastor’s cock twitches inside of me as my walls tighten around him. He stays still for a moment letting me adjust to his size before he pulls himself all the way out, just to slam back into me.

“Yes. Fuck.” I moan out as I claw at his back. In the corner of my eye I see Lucifer begin to pump himself, making me even more aroused. Alastor groans as he feels my nails dig into his back, enjoying the feeling. He continues thrusting in and out at a steady pace, biting and leaving marks on my collarbone.

Eventually he pulls out of me, flipping me onto my stomach. His hand goes around my throat, making me stand up. “You’re being so good for me.” He murmurs in my ear before inserting himself once more.

I can’t help but gasp as he continually hits just the right spot. “Right there. Oh…” My hand goes to grab his thigh. “Right there don’t stop.” Alastor smirks, his fingers tightening slightly around your throat as he increases the pace, hitting that spot again and again.

Lucifer continues to pant, his hand pumping himself faster. “You better hurry up Alastor.” Lucifer grumbles out as he continues to watch him fuck me. Alastor just chuckles before turning his attention back to me.

My hand grips onto his thigh tighter as my legs begin to shake. He begins to pick up the pace, biting me harder on my neck. Not long after I feel myself reach my climax. Alastor’s hands grip onto my waist to steady myself.

He pulls out of me before helping me to sit down on the bed as I begin to pant heavily. Lucifer snarls as he sees how worked up I got from Alastor. “I hope you’re ready for round two cause we’re not done with you yet.”

I shiver at those words, my core clenching at the thought. Alastor steps slightly off to the side as Lucifer stands between my legs, lifting my chin up to look at him. All three of us are panting heavily, the air around us is charged with lust.

Lucifer looks down at me with such lust in his eyes it’s almost painful. “I think I’m long overdue for a turn with you.” He says, sending a quick glare towards Alastor.

My hands go up to grab his face as I pull him towards me for a kiss. He immediately captures my lips with his own, kissing me much more gently than Alastor had. Lucifer’s hands slide up and down my body, touching me as if I was fragile glass.

We break apart after a moment and he gently pushes me down onto the bed, pulling my hips so they’re at the edge of it. One of his hands grabs my calf and lifts it onto his shoulder as he moves closer to me.

A small look is shared between us before I nod, letting him know he can go ahead. He lines himself up with me, pushing in slowly as he lets me adjust.

I let out a small moan as he fully entered me. Lucifer smirks at the sound, starting to move his hips in a slow rhythm. Not long after he picks up the pace Alastor nears the bed again.

My eyes immediately glance over to him as he lifts one knee onto it, his cock hovering over me slightly. My hand goes up to grab it, pumping it at the same pace Lucifer is pushing into me with.

Alastor’s eyes close for a moment from the sensation before bucking his hips slightly in my grasp. Lucifer grumbles at this, picking up his own pace.

“Fuck.” I moan out, arching my back up slightly. “You’re doing so good.” Lucifer murmurs out, his own eyes closing from the pleasure. I lay my head back against the bed, still pumping Alastor. I feel him twitch and can tell he’s close to releasing.

Alastor’s breathing hitches, his hand reaching out to grab my wrist to stop me from pumping him. “No...not yet.” He grits out, his eyes locking onto mine.

I slowly release him from my grasp before one of Lucifer’s thrusts makes me gasp. I close my eyes for a moment, from the sensation, before they meet Lucifer’s.

His thrusts are starting to get a bit sloppier, giving me a sign that he’s close. Alastor watches with a gleam in his eye as Lucifer captures my lips into another kiss.

This time it’s hungrier, slightly more aggressive. After a few more thrusts he groans into the kiss as he climaxes. My hands run through his hair as he collapses slightly on top of me.

After a few moments he pulls out of me. I continue to lay on the bed, catching my breath once again. My eyes glance over to Alastor as he’s eyeing me with a hungry gaze.

He gives me a large smirk before making his way back in between my legs. “I hope you didn’t think I’d let him finish you off.” One of his hands teases my breast as he pushes into me, gentler this time.

With him so close to release I can understand why he’s not being as rough this time. He groans in pleasure, his eyes rolling back slightly. I gasp as he pulls me even closer to him by my hip.

He leans down to leave a trail of kisses along my neck and chest. As he continues to thrust into me my legs begin to shake slightly. I did not expect three fucking rounds. I whimper slightly feeling close to my climax again.

With every kiss, Alastor's grip on my waist tightens. He knows what he's doing to me and is relishing every moment of it. As I near my climax, he smirks in satisfaction before capturing my lips in a heated kiss.

My whole body shakes as I reach my climax. As soon as my body relaxes I can tell it pushed him just over the edge. Not a moment later he reaches his own climax. He stays inside of me until we’ve both completely regained ourselves.

Alastor pulls out of me before picking me up in his arms, placing me further onto the bed to let me get comfortable. After I settle into my spot he climbs in next to me, Lucifer following close behind.

I lie between the pair, completely sandwiched between them. Alastor’s arms are draped over my waist, his chin resting on top of my head, while Lucifer has his head resting on my chest.

“You can go now.” Lucifer mumbles as he glances towards Alastor. He raises an eyebrow in response. “This is my room.” Alastor counters as I sigh. To think they wouldn’t have anything more to argue about today.

“Well I rule over this whole ring so technically this land is mine. Making your room mine.” I can’t help but roll my eyes at his argument. “You’re just pissy cause I made your girlfriend cum twice and you couldn’t even get her to cum once.” Alastor immediately quips back stunning Lucifer for a moment.

Lucifer immediately sits up with a huff making me quickly drag him back down to lay on top of me. “Enough. Both of you. I’m tired, let me sleep.” They both give each other one more glance before quieting down.

[olderthannetfic]

I know the response to this will be "WRITE FOR YOURSELF!!!1!" but when I look at things I worked really hard to write that have zero comments and the things I threw out there on a whim that actually appear to have made people happy, I feel so much less motivated to write the former. I know I'm supposed to be "doing it for myself" but I don't know what that means. It feels like those 90's movies saying "be yourself" or my therapist saying "be authentic". It's a nice enough sounding thing, but what does it mean? Does it mean writing in obscurity is more pure or more artsy? Is it supposed to be more moral and demonstrate integrity?

There's an agreement in fandom that writing for others is bad. It's impure. It's selfish. But no one has really ever explained why. Nor am I getting much out of writing a story that means a lot to me and getting dead silence in response. I like entertaining others and making them smile.

I can practically feel the, "uh, back in my day fic was hosted on a server and we didn't see hit counts let alone get comments and we were happy with it because we weren't whiny and in need of validation like Gen Z!!!1!" people gearing up to yell in the replies that they're good writers who don't care about comments. That's great for them, and I mean that sincerely. But equally sincerely, how are you supposed to maintain passion for something no one else is interested in? I've been told it's better to get validation via hit counts or bookmarks but numbers don't really do anything for me. Someone saying, "I loved this! Can't wait to see what happens next." can make not just my day but my week.

I know what people say. Fandom isn't a popularity context. It's not social media. You're not supposed to like talking to people about fandom things. But... I do. And the utter silence that is modern fandom - of the 100 last published fics in my fandom, only 10 have comments, and only 4 have regular commenters - is just really not fun to me.

--

Yes, lots of people do think it ~demonstrates integrity~. People who never finish anything.

People who actually succeed at making art will say superficially similar things, but what they mean is "If you write things you aren't actually interested in, you will either burn out or the art won't actually be satisfying to the audience or both".

--

The thing about back in the day is that we only got comments. You're dead wrong about that part. Yes, people whined that there wasn't enough feedback, and they will continue to whine about this until the end of time, but your description misses the most important part about the rose-colored glasses and what people are trying to explain about the past in most of those posts:

We couldn't see the lurkers (hit counts) but we did see some actual interactions. This allowed us to imagine that the comment rate was way higher than it actually was and to see fandom as a close-knit community (which was maybe somewhat more accurate than now but never as true as people believed).

--

You have fundamentally misunderstood what the (saner) posts about this are saying.

You shouldn't care about overall numbers. You should care about meaningful social interactions. Obviously, people like connecting with others via art.

Fandom is not a popularity contest. That's why you should enjoy talking to actual peers about things. Genuine connection is not about being a celebrity with fans: it's about making friends.

--

Some fandoms do have interactions. Maybe if you start interacting with others' works, that will help. Maybe you need a different fandom. "Modern fandom" isn't this total wasteland with no interaction, nor do most people find a total lack of it fun.

[olivianyx]

How do you ignore 3d? Like what mindset allows you to truly not care about it and keep going? I've been trying to find a way that changes my perspective on it fully.

Hey, sorry for the late reply. I'll brief it with my perspective.

(I may use vulgar language, so pardon)

So I know my imagination is the only reality. What I assume, think, focus on, visualize,& tell myself will be reflected in the out reality. Suppose I want an ice cream, I imagine eating an ice cream in my head. And that same day, I eat an ice cream in the outer reality. Why? I decided I'm going to eat it after school.

This 3d, I think it as a prostitute. It only reproduces what I put inside (4d). So I only need her to give me what I put inside (thinking it in my imagination) and she gives me the baby (reflection of 4d) and I'm the desire. I put the desire (imagine) in my 4d, and it reproduces in the 3d. So in my perspective, I rail the 4d in all the positions possible till I'm satisfied, and she reproduces my baby in the 3d.

If an unusual circumstance happens, I imagine that it doesn't exist and whatever's happening is in my favour. I go back to my imagination, whenever something happens. Whether favourable or unfavorable, I go 'bruhh, thank you! I have what I want already wtf??!!' And I move on.

Whatever's around me is my old story. I only focus on the new story. The 4d is the source, not the 3d. So if I find myself getting anxious, I immediately ground myself and affirm or imagine what ever I want is happening. I've did this a countless times, I've started doing this by default 😭 every time I go 'bitch I already have my desires, wtf? I'm literally living my dream life, I'm so grateful' (that's how I talk to myself lol 🗿)

I don't actually ignore it, I live in the 3d. I enjoy myself, I live as ifi have my desires, and I do 😽 but when any circumstances occur, I ignore it. I just focus on what I think, imagine and tell myself.

I hope this helps 😭🤍

[hmar177]

DALLAS WINSTON ONE SHOT <3

******SMUTTTTTTTYYYYY******

I'm not sure when I stopped loving Jack, but I know it crept out of the subconscious of my mind the second I saw that damn photo. I know I shouldn't feel this way, Jack is perfect. He comes from a good family, he's sweet and charming, he gets along with my friends and brings my mom flowers everytime he comes over. He was everything I could have dreamed for myself. He is who I should want. But that damn picture of Dallas Winston.

I wish he had just stayed on his side like he was supposed to.

My predicament started a few months ago when I was walking home from school. I had to stay late after my final class to run over a few plans with the committee for the dance coming up. It was my first dance that I was fully running myself and I was over the moon about it. I loved planning big events like this. My brain worked meticulously over every detail and it was so satisfying watching it all come together.

After I had finished my meeting with Sally and Davis, I found myself taking my normal walk home. It was a beautiful day out. The sun was just low enough in the sky to cast a gentle, warm glow on my face, the leaves left a quiet hum in my ears, and I found myself inhaling the glorious scent of the freshly landscaped houses as if the scent would live forever in my lungs if I breathed deep enough.

As I rounded the last corner before my street, I heard loud screeching coming from behind me. A car full of what seemed to be 4 or 5 rowdy boys came barreling down the street. Blasting loud rock music and howling like a pack of wolves, the boys came up fast. I stopped in place and watched as they came closer. They slowed up ever so slightly as they passed me, giving me a good chance to glance into the vehicle. I didn't recognize them, but I did recognize the driver. Dallas Winston.

With his sunglasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose and a cigarette hanging lazily out of his mouth, he held my eyes as he cruised by. I can't tell if I imagined it or not, but I thought I caught a hint of a smirk on his face before he punched the accelerator once more and took off before I could even register the entire exchange. It almost felt like I had just hallucinated that whole sequence.

What were a bunch of greasers doing over here on the west side? Not that I ever had anything against them, I just figured they would want to stay clear of a bunch of privileged, snotty folks who are constantly after their demise.

I had never met Dallas before, but I knew bits and pieces about him. Grew up with a rough homelife, dropped out of school, and even wound up in prison for a while. Everyone in this town saw Dallas and all the greasers as less than. I saw them as kids who just had shit luck when it came to the parents department.

I knew some greasers. There were quite a few in my grade, like Sodapop Curtis. He was one of the sweetest kids I ever met. Had a heart of gold, and a boatload of love for some girl Sandy he always seemed to mention. Soda dropped out a few months ago though after his parents both died tragically in a car accident. Another example of kids with shit luck and no ones around this town to sympathize for them.

Later that night, I found myself sitting at my desk trying to work on my short story. I was assigned by my English teacher to write a short story loosely based on a truly exciting and invigorating time in my life that made me feel alive. The only problem was I have never had an experience in my life that could remotely be described as such.

Everyday, I wake up, go to school, go to event committee meetings, or to my internship at the local newspaper, The Tulsa Chronicles. After all that, I either come home and do homework, or just hangout at the drive in with my friends and my boyfriend Jack. Nothing about my routine is special or interesting. It never changes and I don't see it altering anytime soon. In a town with so little to do, it is quite the tall order to ask us to find something interesting to write about.

I want to be a writer some day, so when I can't complete a simple short story for school, it horrifies me that I may be chasing after a hopeless dream. I intern at the Tulsa Chronicles in hope of it being a good addition to my college applications, but for now I am just helping with the printing and shipping of the papers. One of the editors told me if I had a writing piece that I was proud of, I could pass it along to them and they could give it a read and see if there were any opportunities for me to write something for the paper soon. I was hoping this short story could be that piece that I was proud of, but that is looking like a pipe dream now.

After staring at my blank paper for what feels like hours, I decide tonight is not the night that I am going to find any inspiration, so I turn out the lights and climb into bed. Maybe my dreams will inspire me. Maybe I'll dream of those greasers, flying through neighborhoods and screaming, sounding like they are high on the freedom that life has to offer. I want a taste of what they are having.

The next day is the same as all the other ones, not to anyone's surprise. I woke up, went to school, and made my way over to the Tulsa Chronicles. When I walked in, the newsroom was buzzing much more than normal. In a town as boring as Tulsa, there is not a ton of news to report, so when the newsroom was like this, something major must have happened.

“Rose, get to the printer stat. We need to start loading up these boxes now!” my boss Susan yelled from across the room.

“On it!” I let her know.

As I made my way to the printer, pages were flying out faster than I have ever seen before. This must be a big story if they have the printers working this hard.

Page after page, I watched them stack into a nice pile until the cover page finally flew out.

It read, “Delinquent youths turn heroes after daring fire rescue”

Right next to the title, I saw their faces, Ponyboy Curtis, Johnny Caid, and Dallas Winston.

Pony and Johnny's pictures didn't shock me. Cherry Valance told me a few days ago how sweet and kind they had been to her at the drive in and they always seemed like kind approachable kids. But cherry had also mentioned that Pony and Johnny had protected her from, Dallas Winston

Dallas had always seemed so cold and foreboding. Even his smirk from yesterday's drive by left a chill down my spine. It wasnt that I was afraid of him, but Dallas Winston wasn't someone you just assumed you could become fast friends with. You had to earn his loyalty to be seen with him. His picture being tagged alongside this story seemed extremely out of character. Dallas had his family of greasers and he had himself. There wasn't much else he was looking after. Especially not strangers in some random church fire.

I picked up the front page and looked at it very closely. Part of me didn't want to assume like the rest of this town that this was a mistake, but a bigger part of me couldn't help but think this wasn't true. Dallas Winston saving children he didn't know? Dallas didn't walk by a child in the street without trying to terrify them in some way. Something isn't adding up. Were we all utterly wrong about him? I couldn't help but just stare at his picture, trying to see him run into that burning church. Coming out covered in ash, carrying a couple kids in his arms and placing them down gently before rushing back inside to save more. I felt a twinge in my chest. Something I haven't felt before.

“Rose! Quit daydreaming and pack up those papers. The delivery service will be here in 20 to take those boxes out. They better be filled!” Susan yelled.

“Yes of course.” I replied, suddenly taken out of my temporary, and odd trance.

As I loaded each paper into the boxes, my eyes lingered a little too long on Dallas’s face as each paper piled onto the next. After what must have been hundreds of papers, I “accidentally” misplaced one in my bag sitting next to me. I don't know why I took it. I would surely be getting one of these papers delivered to my house within the next day or so, but part of me wanted to just have this for me. I also didn't want to explain to my dad why I needed his morning paper, the one I had helped package and ship out and have had access to for over a day.

After loading the last box and as a sudden calmness came over the newsroom, it was finally time to head home. I grabbed my bag, making sure the paper was tucked in enough so that it wouldn't be seen, said goodnight to the staff, and made my way out.

As I walked out of the building, I looked up to see Jack leaned up against his shiny new sports car that his parents just bought him as a good job for making the basketball team present. It sounds ridiculous and it is ridiculous. When you come from money like Jack's family, there are very few occasions that don't involve an illustrious gift such as the sports car he now leans against.

I say all this with complete understanding that I come from a family very similar to Jacks. I am privileged and I know that, but I don't see that as a reason to act any differently towards others. Why should the number that's on my fathers paychecks determine whether I am a better person than others? It doesn't. But people like Jack feel that it does. But Jack makes me smile, and my mother hasn't shut up about those lilies he brought her this past weekend when he was over for dinner. Who could hate Jack, right?

“Hey there honey. How was the journalism world today?” Jack says with a smile as he opens the passenger side door for me to get in. Jack picks me up whenever he's in the area and he knows I'm here. It's very sweet of him. Another reason to love him, right?

“Busy. There was a big story today so there were a lot more papers to print and ship.” I told him.

“Really! What was the story?” He asked.

I hesitated for a second.

“Oh I don't remember. I didn't really get a chance to read it. Too busy getting them into boxes.” I explained. I don't know why I lied. I think a part of me felt guilty about the things I felt and thought as I looked at Dallas’s picture the past few hours and another part of me wanted to keep Dallas to myself for a bit longer because by morning everyone would be talking about him. More people would be picturing him as this grand hero, and I still wanted to be the only one who saw him that way.

The rest of the ride, we sat in comfortable silence. That was the best way to describe me and Jack's relationship. Comfortable. Our parents set us up freshman year of highschool and we fell into the narrative with ease. He was cute and popular. It made sense why I should want him, so I convinced myself I did. And it worked for a while. A long while now. But as we come towards the midway point of Junior year, I'm not too sure how much longer I can convince myself that Jack is what I want. But what would be my reason for leaving him? He was too nice to my parents? He made one too many jokes that made all my friends laugh? He was too popular? Too athletic? On paper he was perfect. Trying to tell anyone that my time with Jack was coming to an end would make me sound like the biggest fool. So I just stayed. There was no reason to leave, even though I wanted there to be so badly.

We pulled up to the front of my house and he came around and opened my door. I thanked him and looked up to my house. The big, beautiful white home sat on top of the hill at the top of my street with a huge porch that wrapped around the whole house, and perfectly painted blue shutters. It was truly out of a magazine and I was eternally grateful for being able to be raised in a home as beautiful as this one. The dining room light shined bright and I knew my parents were in there waiting for me to arrive so we could have dinner as a family. Jack took my hand and walked me to the door. My mother opened it as we took the final step onto the porch.

“Jack!’ My mother said, “How kind of you to bring Rose home. Won't you come in and join us for dinner.”

A pit immediately formed in my stomach.

“I'd love-” Jack started before I cut him off.

“I'm actually not feeling very well so I think I am just gonna go to bed.” I quickly sputtered out. Facing Jack I said, “Maybe another night.”

I gave him a quick peck on the cheek before rushing up the stairs and straight into my room before anyone else could say anything. That was definitely rude of me, but the thought of having to sit next to Jack for the next hour, knowing I smuggled home a paper with the only intention of staring at the man on the cover made me extremely nauseous. I may not feel for Jack the way I used to, but I wouldn't be disrespectful, and if I was gonna be disrespectful, I wasn't gonna allow him to eat dinner with me and my family as if everything was fine and dandy.

I sat down on my bed and immediately removed the paper from my bag. It wasn't often that I had strange outbursts such as the one I just had downstairs, so I knew my parents would leave me be for a while. I took the paper, and got comfortable. Reading the entire article front and back and learning that what the title states was indeed true, I took the cover and discarded the rest of the pages. Holding Dallas’s picture up, I thought about the words in the article and how they described the man I was looking at. Bold. Courageous. Brave. Not words I would initially think of when I heard the name Dallas Winston.

His face held hard lines in his jaw and forehead. He had strong dark features and striking eyes. He was beautiful in a rugged and tired way. A way that you never see here in the west side neighborhoods. I was mesmerized by his stern stare. I wanted to know everything about him and I wanted to know it now. I wanted to spend a day with him and learn what it took to earn his trust. To earn a glance from those haunting eyes. The way he looked at me as he rode past me in his car yesterday felt like a shot of espresso. It jolted something awake inside of me. I needed another hit. I craved it.

Before I could comprehend what I was doing, my body was up and at my desk. I was opening my drawer and pulling out a pair of scissors. I slowly and carefully cut around his face making sure not to accidentally trim anything important off, because truthfully it was all important. He was important and I needed to know why.

I held the small picture of Dallas Winston between my fingers, holding as close to the edge as possible, with fear I might smudge it, and I grabbed a piece of tape. Walking over to my bed, I taped the picture on my wall right next to where my head lays when I sleep. I could hide it during the day behind my pillows when I made my bed. It was just for me. He was my new interest. He was my excitement that I had been looking for, I just had to find a way to make these little daydreams something real. As I crawled into bed with the image of dark raven eyes flashing through my mind, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, Jack, my parents, and Tulsa all feeling like a distant memory rather than my reality.

It could have been 3 hours or 3 minutes, but before I knew it, I was woken up by the sound of my desk lamp falling to the ground and a soft breeze coming from my window that I was sure was closed when I got into bed. I shot up like an arrow and reached for the lamp on my bedside table, flicking it on as fast as I could. As the light flooded the room, I was immediately met with the eyes I saw as I lulled myself to sleep. I had to be imagining him right? Dallas Winston stood right there in the middle of my bedroom, standing at least 6 foot 2, drowning in his leather jacket, with his signature blue jeans, and a black eye that was shining through even in the dim lighting.

“Dallas?” I began before he ran over to my bed and clasped his hand around my mouth and the other one slid behind my head keeping me quiet and still.

Slowly he shook his head as if to tell me, now is not a time for talking. I assumed he was scared my parents would hear him, which I am now realizing never even crossed my mind. My parents would lose their minds if they strolled into my room right now to find a greaser, Dallas Winston worst of all, standing in my bedroom at, I flashed my eyes to my clock, 2am. But my parents never even entered my head, nothing really entered my head. Not fear, not my parents, not jack. All I could think about was that incredible shot of adrenaline I felt when I saw him, and coming up with a plan to make him stay as long as possible so I didn't have to stop this feeling.

All of a sudden I heard sirens, and red and blue lights flash past the house at a high speed. I looked up at Dallas who was looking out the window to make sure the coast was clear. His hands were still firmly placed around my head. I studied his face while he wasn't paying attention to me, just as I was doing last night. But this was ten times better. The picture didn't do him justice. He was gorgeous. A light sheen of sweat coated his forehead from running I assumed, and his hair drooped gently in front of his eyes, giving him a rugged elvis look. I could stare at him for hours and not get bored for a second.

Once he saw that he was in the clear, he slowly brought his attention back to me. He studied my face for a second, a small shimmer of something in his eyes but I don't know what it was. After a moment he brought his eyes around my room, studying the pictures and posters on my walls that I'm sure I'll be embarrassed about later, to the books on my nightstand, and with another flick of his gaze, he was locked in on something behind me. He stared long and hard and I couldn't think of what it could be. He slowly came inclose, his lips right next to my ear.

“Well I'll be damned. Looks like I have a fan.” He whispered, his warm breath hitting my neck.

My eyes widened, the picture. Dallas WInston was looking at the picture of him I cut out and taped next to my bed.

“Now tell me darling, if I remove my hands, can you stay quiet and not let anyone know I am here? Because I do have a few questions about this I'd like to ask.” He said quietly with a shit eating grin on his face, so good, that it could seduce the Queen of England.

I slowly nod. Why am I not terrified right now? A known felon is standing in my room right now in the middle of the night. He snuck in my window in an attempt to run from the cops. I am harboring a criminal right now as we speak and all I can think about is how I can end things with Jack so that this lasts forever.

“Good Girl.” He says softly, then slowly takes his hands off my mouth, immediately missing the feel of his touch. God I was so fucked.

He pulled over my desk chair and took a seat right in front of me, our knees almost touching. He held the picture between his fingers looking at it, then up to me.

“So tell me, what's a nice girl like you doing hanging up pictures of bad Dallas Winston on her pretty pink bedroom walls?” He asks.

I think I stopped breathing. What was I supposed to say? There was no real explanation for why I hung up the picture other than I was chasing a feeling I couldn't even name. I stared blankly trying to say anything, trying to think of something to say that would make him as interested in me as I was in him.

“Well?” He pushed after I sat there stunned for I don't even know how long.

“Uhh, I, Uh….. I think I want to feel what you feel.” I said. Shit. That didn't even make any sense. He for sure thought I was crazy. He looked at me puzzled.

“Honey, the last thing you want is to feel what I feel.” He gave a small laugh that created small needles in the back of my throat and moved to get up.

“I want to feel alive. I want to be reckless and have fun. You have fun, don't you?” I said quickly, anything coming out of my mouth was just a hidden plea for him to stay.

He stopped in his tracks, and looked back over to me. The moon casting a soft glow on his hard features. The shimmer in his eyes came back for a second. He slowly sat back down.

“Oh, I have fun. But the kind of fun I have would give a soc like you nightmares.” He said with venom on his tongue. I couldn't tell if he was threatening me or daring me to push him more.

“Show me.” I whispered. Dally smirked at me pondering my dare for a split second, before he slid his switchblade knife out of his pocket and softly dragged the blade from my fingertips, up my arm, and across my collar bone. Every hair on my body stood straight up. My breath hitched ever so slightly and he moved the blade to my neck and held it there.

Part of me was truly scared, and another part of me felt that there was something a bit performative too. Dallas Winston wasn't going to hurt me. I knew that for a fact. He leaned in close, taking a strand of my hair in his other hand, and brought his lips to my ear.

“Are you having fun yet?” He said. I couldn't see his face, but I could hear the smirk in his words.

I backed away so I could meet his eyes. A fire raged behind them. I would give anything to look inside his brain, even for just a moment. I smiled at him and I could see the excitement grow. I don't know why, but I liked what was happening. I liked the uncertainty of what he was going to say and do, and I liked that I trusted him for no reason at all.

“I think I like you more than I should.” I say. I don't know why I said that. I wasn't even embarrassed that I did. It was like being close to him unlocked a new version of myself that I didn't know existed. A version of myself that had confidence and a desire to push the limits. I felt alive.

“Do you like me more than your boyfriend?” He grinned.

“Do you want me to?” I challenged. He grinned and his gaze flicked down to my lips for a moment before it returned to my eyes. The knife at my throat is all but forgotten.

“Let's make a deal. If I can kiss better than a soc, you have to go out with me.” He said.

“And if you can't?” I said, barely a whisper.

“Oh honey, there are very few things I can't do.” He said leaning in and attaching his lips to mine. I felt the knife hit the bed next to me as I melted into his kiss and his hands wrapping around my face.

It was soft and slow for all but a moment, before I knew it he was laying me down on the bed and forcing his tongue into my mouth. I guess it wasn't forcing it, more like me waiting for it and craving it.

My hands roamed his body, feeling his toned muscles through his thin black tee shirt. I slid his leather jacket off, as his hands found their way under my shirt. He planted his hand on my stomach and pushed me down to the mattress keeping me in place. A breeze gently floated in from the window, and it made me hyper aware of the slickness that was now coating my thighs.

His mouth moved to my cheek and then to my neck. I clasp one of my hands over my mouth to muffle my moans. He placed his thigh between my legs allowing me to move my hips to get some relief.

God what was I doing? How did it come to me grinding on Dallas Winston in my bed at 2 in the morning. I couldn't bring myself to stop though. It was all too much. Too good.

“How am I doing sweetheart?” He said in my ear before he brought his face back up to look me in the eyes. “I think the tears in your eyes are telling me that I'm gonna see you tomorrow night.”

I moaned into his shoulder, as I felt his hand trail down my abdomen and underneath my waistband. He teased there for a moment, smirking down at me waiting for me to stop him, but there was no way in hell I wanted this to ever end. I gave him a quick nod before he cupped me over my underwear. He quickly covered my mouth with his own as he knew I was about to moan. He chuckled softly into the kiss.

“My God Dallas. Oh my god” I moaned into his mouth.

“I am a God, aren't I?” He growled before sliding his fingers underneath my underwear and inside of me. The pleasure was so overwhelming, that I bit into his shoulder to stop myself from crying out. He groaned from the pain, but I knew he liked it.

As his fingers pumped in and out of me, he slowly started to grind himself into my hip. He was hard. I felt him poking through his tight jeans, begging to be let out.

“Dallas. I want you.” I begged. I need more of him. I need him closer.

He removed his fingers from me, leaving me feeling empty. I looked up at him and he immediately placed his fingers into his mouth, sucking me off of them. I let out a moan. He was trailing kisses down my chest, then my stomach, never taking his eyes off of me.

“I know baby, I know. Not yet though.” He assured me. “I just need a little taste first.”

He grabbed the waistband of my shorts and my underwear and slowly pulled them down, never stopping his trail of kisses that now led down my leg.

“So beautiful.” He whispered to himself as he was now eye level with my core. “Spread your legs for me baby.” I do what I'm told. “That's it. Good Girl. Now lay back and let me worship you.”

Dallas wastes absolutely no time diving right in and taking all of me into his mouth. He licks from top to bottom and back again before taking my clit into his mouth and sucking. “So sweet.” He moans into me.

I have to grab the pillow on my bed and cover my face because the scream I almost let out would have surely woken up the entire neighborhood. Dallas’s name on the tip of my tongue. The name about to escape with every moan that shoots through me, which would not only let the town know I was in the middle of the most erotic moment of my life, but also it was Dallas Winston that was buried between my legs.

I feel one of Dallas’s hands remove from my thigh and I look down to see what he was doing. I look down to see Dallas’s mouth still attached to my clit, but his eyes boring into mine with the most seductive look I have ever seen in my life. Without ever looking away from me, Dallas removes his mouth, now just an inch away from me, and takes a little gold foil packet out of his pocket and takes it straight to his mouth. He rips the foil open with his teeth and slides the condom out.

He stands up. His 6 foot 2, god-like stance, looming over me, made me feel so small and helpless on my bed. God, I wish I could be a fly on the wall right now, wanting to see what I might look like. My shirt pushed up, shorts and underwear thrown about the room somewhere, My hair probably a mess, and tears staining my face as Dallas Winston stands over me, slowly unbuckling his belt.

He smirks down at me and he pulls his pants and boxers down, revealing his erection and my god it was big. I honestly didn't know if it was gonna fit inside of me. Right on cue, as if he could read my mind, Dallas says, “Don't be scared darling, you can handle it.”

He goes to put on the condom, but I sit up quickly, grabbing his hand, stopping him. “Can I do it?” I ask him. He looks down at me with hooded eyes and a smirk that could kill.

“Fuck yeah you can.” he says in a breathy tone as he hands me the condom. I take the condom out of his hand and hesitantly grab his dick. A low grumble comes from his throat as I give it a little pump before rolling on the condom.

The second it's on, he pushes me on my back, and comes down on top of me. He starts to position himself at my entrance and looks me in the eyes. “Baby, as much as I want this to last forever, I'm not gonna last very long.” He leans in kissing me hard and chuckles against my lips and I smile at his words. Yeah, me neither.

I take a deep breath and he thrusts inside of me. I clasp my arms around his neck and hug him as close to me as possible. He is big and it hurts so good. I bite into his shoulder again trying to distract myself from the pain, but also from the fact that my orgasm is seconds away and he just got inside of me.

He whimpers in my ear as I kiss his neck profusely. He finds a steady pace that has me borderline drooling. “God Dallas, don't stop. It feels so good.” I barely get out because I can barely catch my breath. I shoot one of my hands out and feel something sharp hit my finger. I look down to see Dallas’s knife still sitting next to us on the bed. It must have nicked my finger. Before I can register what's happened, Dallas takes my bloodied finger and sucks it into his mouth while holding my gaze. His eyes were hooded, and looking drunk off sex.

“Come for me baby. Come on. I know you're there. Show me how good I make you feel.” He begs me. Between his words, and my finger in his mouth, I'm there in a second. Burying my face into his neck, my orgasm rips through me harder than it ever has before. My nails digging into his bicep and a drip of sweat going down my forehead. Dallas still thrusts into me hard and fast for a moment more before he takes my lips into his and I feel his dick twitch as he spills into the condom.

He lays on top of me, breathing heavily in my ear for what feels like an hour, but was probably only a few minutes. He slowly removed himself from me, then pushed up so he was hovering over me again. He smiled down at me as I grabbed his face with my hands, pulling him down to kiss me. His kiss was so gentle, the word love flew through my head, but it was only a fraction of a thought.

I brushed my finger over his cheek bone, before noticing my finger was still bleeding. I brought it to my face, inspecting the cut. It wasn't deep at all. Just a knick. Dallas took my finger to his lips and planted a soft kiss to the cut. Adab of blood coating his lip, only for a second before he licked it off.

“What time are you free tomorrow?” He asks as he nuzzles his face into my neck, no doubt leaving more hickeys.

“Maybe around 7?” I told him. “I just have to go break up with Jack, and then I'm all yours.” I giggled lightly. He came back up and looked at me with the most serious expression I saw all night.

“All mine.” He smiled.

***hope you enjoyed!!!!!!!!! DALLAS WINSTON I LOVE YOU***

[yellowbunnydreams]

Bunny Ears (Part 17) ~William Afton X F! Reader~

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Want more or something different? *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tag List: @ruh--roh-raggy @h4nluv @sleepy---head @do-double-g @confiscated-peaches-main @dij-ology @viviennemuerte @robin-the-enby @shari-berri @randymeeksisafinalgirl @hallow1090 @aponia-yue @likoplays @dilflover-3 @oak-leafs @phd-in-fuckery @weirdoartist21 @nicolezghostz @fauine

Sorry if I missed you on the tag-list!

CW: Minors DNI, (18+ ONLY), Female Reader, legal age gap (Reader- 20's, William - 30's), divorce/processing divorce, Afton being a sarcastic hot ass, Henry being such a dad, grumpy x sunshine . Faz-Fuck TM. Cringe scenes ft. Henry.

The ringing phone turned your peaceful sleep into a groan and soft 'thwump' as you rolled out of bed, swearing as you picked yourself up out of bed and padded through to your phone. Rubbing at your eyes as you took a moment to yawn before glancing at the clock on the wall that you'd finally gotten round to mounting. It wasn't too early you supposed, but you wanted to sleep in on one of your days off at least.

"Hello?"

You heard your name being chuckled through the phone, the gravelly voice sending shivers down your spine as you woke up a little more. Rubbing at your face as you tried to listen to the familiar voice.

"Good morning, bunny. It sounds like I woke you up." His own voice was deep in a way you hadn't heard before, making you smile as your finger twisted the phone cord idly whilst you talked, making an approving hum.

"You sound pretty tired yourself this morning, Will." Making him chuckle and you could faintly hear the rustle of cloth in the background as it took him a moment to answer.

"Well I did just wake up myself. I haven't even left my bed yet." Your cheeks flooding with heat at the image that flashed in your mind of William. Laid in bed and sprawled out, holding the phone to his ear and talking to you in his half-asleep voice. The thought made you wish you had a mobile so that you could say the same thing back to him. "I'm shirtless too, if that helps your little daydream." Practically hearing the smirk in his voice.

"I-I wasn't- I... You..." It was too early to have your boyfriend fluster you in such a way, hearing him chuckling as you stumbled over your words and hearing the rustle of cloth that you now assumed was his comforter being moved as he shifted in the bed. Wondering what colour it was. You could totally see him rocking black satin sheets somehow.

"Sorry bunny, I couldn't resist. You sound so adorable all sleepy and flustered like this. I'm now far more tempted to make these calls a regular thing." The thought made your knees weak and suddenly you were all to eager for the mornings if he followed through with it. Giggling as you bit your lip and tightened your grip on your phone cord.

"Don't threaten me with a good time, Afton." Hearing his chuckle before he made a little noise that you tried to imagine was him stretching, letting out a satisfied sigh afterwards as if to confirm your theory. Wondering if he understood that he kept finding new ways to surprise you and make you even more smitten with him, if you had the same effect on him despite not being as experienced in the whole 'dating' thing.

"Oh I'd say worse if I wanted to do that, honey." A slight scratching sound making you think he'd run his hand over his beard, perhaps wiping the sleep from his face just like you were doing. "Anyway, I wanted to call and ask if you wanted to go out together today? Henry texted me last night that him and Sarah are going to a new mall that opened and apparently she's eager to spend some more 'girl time' together."

It was sweet to you that Henry's wife clearly thought to highly of you, your cheeks flushed and looking at the clock, nodding to yourself despite the fact that he couldn't see you. Freeing your hand from the cord and touching your hair, wondering if you should shower that morning before you went out and deciding that it was probably for the best.

"Sure, I'd love that William. Are you up for socialising today?" Teasing him as you heard a slight grunt and shifting cloth again, a low hum before he answered you in that deep gravel that made your knees weak and body ache.

"Got at least one thing to sort before I'm acceptable to be out in public, but I'll always make exceptions to 'no socialising' if I get to spend more time with you sweetheart." You giggled at his affectionate use of nicknames for you, wondering if he would only ever use your name if you were in trouble or in a professional setting. Chewing on your lip as he yawned down the phone, building the image of him in your mind during the call. "Oh, and I want to ask something."

"Sure Will, what is it?"

"Can you not wear my hoodie today? Not that I don't love seeing you in it, I just...have a present to give you and now seems like a good time. But it requires you to be jacketless." He explained, voice somewhat sheepish as you smiled into the phone. Raising an eyebrow as you tried to figure out what it was that he was going to give you.

"You don't have to get me anything Will." Speaking softly and hearing him chuckle as he spoke again, speaking lowly as he stretched again on the other side.

"No, I know. But what else am I supposed to do with this money I've saved aside from treat you, my beautiful girlfriend?" Making you blush as you shrugged your shoulders and thought for a moment before speaking again.

"Pay off your mortgage? Pay off your car? Spoil Vanessa rotten?" Hearing that chuckle become more awake as you talked, making you smile wider as you heard what sounded like him turning over in bed.

"Baby-girl, bunny, I own my own house and my own car. I already spoil her rotten, so what if I want to spoil the other girl in my life too?"

"Owning your own home and car is probably the sexiest thing I've ever heard." You joke, pulling your phone away from your ear as William laughed loudly into the landline, making you beam with pride that you'd made him laugh like that.

~~

Sarah and Henry had picked you up a few hours later, dressed in a black skirt and a baggy t-shirt from a metal band you'd forgotten you even purchased a few years ago. Deciding to apply a little lip-gloss and mascara, as well as some eyeliner like how Sarah had showed you, although yours wasn't perhaps as skilled as hers had been. The pack of used make-up wipes and the slightly red skin around your eyes from the what felt like hundreds of attempts attested to your practise however.

"You look like the kind of girl we would have tried to set Will up with in college." Sarah laughed when she saw you, making you blush as you'd climbed into the car.

"Is that a good thing?"

"Absolutely. He's going to faint when he sees you." Henry confirmed, grinning at you before heading out. The drive had been a little long, but when you finally arrived, you found yourself scanning the lot to try and spot William's car.

Walking just behind the couple as you all headed inside, scanning the bright banners that advertised the grand-opening and the sales going on inside because of it. Smiling as you saw Sarah practically vibrating with excitement at the prospect of a bargain, Henry staring at his pager for a moment before waving his hand to get you to follow him. Sarah linking arms with you and letting him lead as Henry looked at the mall map and tried to figure out where to go, presumably from a text from William.

"He's in the food court, wanted to get coffee and some food before we spend hours in here." Henry laughed, making Sarah roll her eyes and scoff at the thought, looking around at how busy it was since it was the opening week of the mall.

"We're going to miss out on the best sales!"

"Babe, I love you, my darling wife, but they are aware that a lot of people would be coming so probably over-stocked a lot of the shops." He explained, looking at her with a gentle smile, receiving one back from his wife before he moved off.

It was pretty quick to spot William in the food court, sat at a table, one leg brought up to rest on his knee, leaning back into the chair did little to hide his tall stature and he was broader than most of the chairs were seemingly designed for. A purple bag sat on the floor besides him as he drummed his fingers idly against the metal table, expression a slight frown as he waited.

You couldn't help but blink and admire him in a lighter colour pair of jeans and another tight t-shirt, black with some design that had faded but you could recognise as some punk bank you'd vaguely heard of. He looked good. His glasses perched on the end of his nose as he reached up to adjust them, seemingly lost in his own little world and failing to notice your approach.

Grinning widely, you broke away from the group and ran up to him. Throwing your arms around his neck and bringing him into a hug as he grunted from the slight impact, his arms wrapping around you and one hand landing on your thigh just because of the fact he was sitting whilst you ran at him. Hearing laughter behind you, you assumed his expression was mildly confused. Taking a second to register who was holding onto him before he turned his head and let his stubble scratch across your cheek and planting a kiss along your neck. Pulling you tighter to him and his large hand pressing into your back and his other one moved from your thigh.

"Well hello to you too, bunny." He laughed into your neck, making you shudder as the hot air brushed your skin. Planting a soft kiss to the top of his head before pulling back to grin at him.

"I couldn't help it, I wanted to hug you." Playfully pouting at him, watching the lopsided smile grow before he planted a firm kiss on your lip, humming into it and licking his lips when he pulled away, the slightly sheen on your gloss visible on his lips and making you giggle.

"Well I'm never going to say no to that now, am I? And I approve of that cherry flavour, I quite like cherry." William grinned as he went in for another kiss, waving off Henry as he wolf whistled whilst taking a seat at the table.

"Get a room love-birds!" He teased, earning a smack on the arm from his wife as you parted from William's lips again, both smiling as he ran his hand up and down your back soothingly. Finally seeing what you were wearing and pausing, blinking and eyes widening as he saw you in the skirt, boots and metal t-shirt. Seemingly processing what was before him as Sarah laughed.

"Told you he'd break a bit." William seemed to snap out of the comment, shooting a sideways scowl before smiling at you again, taking a barely perceptible shuddering breath. Resuming the path of his hand on your back and making you feel relaxed under his touch.

Reaching down, he brought up the bag with a smile, waggling it in front of you and kicking out a chair for you to sit on. Making you raise an eyebrow curiously before you opened it. Glancing at the matching bracelets that both of you constantly wore with a smile before untying the little ribbon at the top of the bag. Brow furrowed in concentration as you undid it and looked inside. Gently taking out the material inside and thumbs brushing over it. Something faintly spicy hitting your senses before you let the material unfold, revealing a large hoodie that would surely look baggy on Afton even. Black with a zip down the front, eyes widening as you realised there was a little embroidered part in black thread over the breast. A little leaping bunny, looking closer at it as you saw a speck of purple. Grinning wider as you realised it was wearing a tiny purple bow-tie.

"Thank you Will, I love it!" Throwing your arms around him and his arms came up automatically to wrap around you this time, holding you close and planting a kiss on your cheek as he laughed slightly at the second over the top hug you'd put him through for the day.

"You're more than welcome, bunny. I know it's subtle, but I thought you'd get a kick out of it." He whispered to you, planting another kiss and taking a deep breath, squeezing you slightly before he let you go. Allowing you to slip the massive sleeves on and shrug it onto your shoulders, the size absolutely drowning you as you felt the soft material against your skin. Realising that the spicy smell was his cologne that he always wore, you came to the conclusion that either he'd drowned it in the stuff, or that he'd secretly been wearing it for a few days to get the scent there. Either one made you incredibly happy and made your chest tighten and flutter.

"Good job you got a zippered one Wills, she might look she might have nothing else on otherwise!" Henry laughed, earning an eyeroll from Sarah as she all but dragged him up to go and get coffee and some food since that was what you'd gone there for. Leaving William to take your hand and stroke his thumb over the knuckles before planting a kiss there, your cheeks flushing as he raked his gaze across your body before meeting your curious eyes.

"Oh, trust me. She's already been occupying my thoughts with such delicious ideas today." Whispering it as Henry was clearly intended not to hear it. Making you shudder and feel your thighs press together slightly as he held your gaze hungrily, placing a conversely chaste kiss against your knuckles again.

~~

Henry and William had gone off to look at some of the stores that took their interest, and you and Sarah had split off. Chatting together idly and Sarah making you laugh and blush as you talked about various things together, her teasing you about breaking your boyfriend with your outfit. You hadn't been in many stores. more following Sarah until your eyes drifted to a dark store-front, brow furrowing as you tried to figure out why the windows were darkened with minimal branding on it, but the door was propped open to welcome people inside.

Sarah noticed your gaze with a wicked grin, practically sprinting and dragging you behind her to go inside despite your protests that you weren't sure it was even open. Blinking as you adjusted to the low light inside and felt your cheeks heating up as you realised that it was a discreet lingerie store. Eyes flickering over racks of lace and satin, cheeks burning as you tried to avoid looking anywhere in particular but feeling yourself curiously looking at certain pieces.

"Don't tell me you've never been in a lingerie store before?" Sarah teased as she noticed your burning cheeks, your eyes widening as she seemed to say it all too loudly over the quiet music playing in the store.

Shaking your head slowly and making the older woman squeal in delight that she got to introduce you to another new thing, taking your arm and walking you through the racks. Grinning widely as she thumbed through the racks and occasionally glancing at you. "So, do you have any big dates planned with William?" Her voice sing-song as she pried and clearly fished for a reason for you to remain in the store for a bit longer.

"I-I mean, I'm going to his house on Friday?" You stammered out, making Sarah pause and raise an eyebrow at you. Checking you were serious before her jaw dropped and her eyes widened, suddenly squealing happily and seizing you by the arms, jumping up and down slightly, catching you off guard.

"Girl! Dear! He didn't even invite his ex-wife around his house until they were engaged. Even then it took her suggesting it for a month before he reluctantly agreed. Did he ask you?"

"Y-Yeah?"

"Oh my god, he's probably cooking for you too then! I bet it's going to be such a cute date!!" The blonde squealed in excitement and made you feel a little self-conscious as other patrons of the store threw questioning glances your way before returning to their own browsing. Planting a kiss on your cheek before she looked about conspicuously, taking you to some back corner away from the most prying eyes and speaking quietly to you. "Have you thought about..you know?"

"About what Sarah, there have been a lot of thoughts recently." Crossing your arms over your chest, fiddling with the sleeves to help calm your nerves, William's cologne helping to relax you despite your nervousness.

"Have you thought about...Well, no delicate way to put this...Whether you want to have sex with him?"

You were sure your cheeks couldn't get any hotter, but somehow you were proven wrong as they increased in temperature again. Shoulders tensing as your mind froze and then began to race. Feeling embarrassed that Sarah had asked you so blunty, but then you supposed that this was the same woman who had told you your boyfriend was a player in college in a restaurant bathroom whilst reapplying her lipgloss.

"I um...Maybe? A-A few times maybe...I mean...That's normal, right?"

"Of course it's natural sweetie. But, I was thinking you probably want to feel sexy and cute for that time, so why don't we shop for something for you and you can wear it when the time feels right? Men love this shit, and it can make you feel like a million dollars too." She suggested, returning to her normal, calming voice once she saw how nervous you were. Nodding your head slowly and playing with the sleeves more on your hoodie, letting Sarah gently take your arm and guide you around to look at various styles.

She talked lowly and slowly for you, whispering to you about the pros and cons of each style and material and after a few minutes of her patiently walking you through everything, you felt glad you had a friend who seemed to know about all these sorts of things. Relaxing a little more as she talked you through the various bits and pieces that you were clueless about.

Eventually, something caught your eye and your fingers reached out to brush the delicate chiffon fabric. Picking up the hanger and fingers moving over the lace cups, the slight strap that went down the front. It looked almost like a see-through slip, and Sarah hummed over your shoulder as you looked over the item.

"That's a baby-doll set. They're super comfy and breezy, plus they offer a little more cover than some types, whilst still being revealing." She explained lowly, making you nod in understanding as you bit your lip. Chewing it slightly as you admired the sheer black fabric, the details on the cups forming flowers and leaves. A small vine-like design moving from between the cups and forming a sort of halter-neck strap alongside the two shoulder straps. You guessed it had something to do with lines and how people tended to let their eyes move over a person.

"I-I think I like this one." Blushing as Sarah nodded and squeezed your arm lightly, leading you towards the cashiers with a few selections of her own, after she made sure you had the right size for yourself. Letting you pay for it and beaming with pride as you took the bag, the discreet branding of it meaning you didn't quite feel a burning guilt that everybody would know where you'd been.

"Let's go find something pretty to put over the top of it now. We've got some time before the boys come back after all." Sarah giggled, taking your arm and leading you again. "And I think you chose well. William, from what Henry has said, is a man of...tastes."

You raised an eyebrow at her, but she refused to elaborate, only grinning at you wickedly and focusing on her hunt for an appropriate shop for her purposes, woman on a mission as she tried to guide you through the art of feeling sexy for yourself.

Suddenly, you couldn't wait for Friday. Even more than you had been before.