#tight vs off live

[shouty-sam]

.

[misctf]

Country Living

When he stopped to help you on the side of this lonely country road, you couldn’t have been more grateful. You didn’t expect your car to breakdown on these desolate backroads. Nor did you expect a lack of cell service. Your years studying in college didn’t exactly give you the knowledge on how to diagnose and fix cars. But based on all the smoke, you figured something was wrong.

“Aw, don't you worry none, I'm right happy to help y'all out.” He removed his ball cap and ran his hand through his short brown hair, “Name’s Bucky. What brings y'all to this neck of the woods?”

He was certainly taller and more muscular than you- not to mention ripe with the smell of a hard day’s work. And you could tell he was looking you over, the juxtaposition couldn’t have been clearer. Country vs city boy, manual laborer vs keyboard warrior, dropped out of high school vs college educated. The list could go on. But despite the bias you held towards these country folks, you were happy he was helping. And so you introduced yourself and expressed your sincere gratitude. Bucky smiled and gave you a bone crushing handshake.

“Ain't no trouble at all, I'm just glad to help out.” He smiled warmly, his dark eyes, while lacking intelligence, were filled with kindness and just a bit of mischief.

He winks at you and you felt your heart flutter for just a moment. Maybe it was the way his stubble framed his tanned face. Or the way the sweat dripped from his muscular arms as he worked on your car. Or perhaps it was the occasional glances he gave you and the sly smirk that told you he knew you were checking him out.

“I reckon I know what's wrong. Just need to grab a tool from my garage.” He said, wiping the sweat from his brow, “You care to join me? Looks like you could use a sip of somethin’.”

It was true. In the sweltering heat, you were certainly thirsty. And while part of you wanted to stay with your car, you felt beckoned to go with him. And so you did. You climbed into his pick-up truck and watched as he revved the engine. And before long, you were cruising down the old country road with your car disappearing from sight.

“Well, dang if this ain't my favorite tune!” Bucky said, turning up the volume, “You figure you into this kinda music?”

It was some country song. One about cars, beer, and living on a farm. Not something you’d listen to voluntarily. But as Bucky sang in his southern twang, you found your foot tapping along. Soon you were mouthing the words, almost as if you knew the song by heart. And a moment later you joined in with him, the two of you putting your hearts into every lyric. You barely noticed the southern twang that garnished your voice.

“Well, I'll be darned! Can’t believe you like these kinda tunes. No offense intended, but you don't quite fit the mold, do ya?” He says with a chuckle.

Bucky gives your arm a playful punch and you look down at the exposed, tanned skin of your bicep. Your muscles were contracting and seemingly getting larger, highlighted nicely by the wifebeater that clung tightly to your skin. You look up at Bucky and he gives you a wink. Again, you feel comforted by his kind smile and playful dark eyes. You turn away and absentmindedly run a hand over your growing biceps. So firm and tight, the skin somewhat weathered. But deep down you know something isn’t right. Its nagging at you, begging for you to say something. To at least find out what’s happening to you. You want to tell Bucky, but he’s just pulled up to his garage.  

“Mind givin’ me a hand findin’ my toolkit?” Bucky asks. You nod quickly- your anxiety being pushed deep into your subconsciousness. And as Bucky enters the garage, he pulls off his sweaty wifebeater, “Don't pay me no mind, it sure gets mighty hot 'round these parts. You’re welcome to do the same.”

And you follow his example. As you do, you catch a whiff of your pits. The musk that invades your nostrils is a far cry from the vegan deodorant you applied this morning. Moreso, your usually well-trimmed pit hair is now a curly damp bush of dark brown hairs that poke out when you lower your arms. The smell makes you dizzy and you feel like you might fall over, but Bucky lends you a hand.

“Don’t go faintin’ on me now.” He says with a grin, “We got a lotta work to do.”

“Don't you worry 'bout me none, I got this here handled.” You say- the words leaving your mouth without much input from your brain. Bucky’s eyes light up and he grins.

“I shoulda known that.” His laugh fills your ears and you swear it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve heard. He notices you admiring him, “Gotta find those tools now.”

You nod and start rummaging through his garage and workbench. You pick up a wrench and place it down. Then another and another. You never really needed to learn basic mechanic stuff, let alone the names of wrenches. You were more focused on your degree. Your degree in... In...? You stare at the composite wrench in your hand and your eyes narrow. You were studying something at that univer... uni... book-learnin’ place of yours, right? Your thoughts are distracted when some oil spills on your hands.

“Gosh darnit.” You mutter, wiping the oil on your work jeans. Work jeans that were stained and torn from years of laboring.

You turn towards Bucky to say something, but instead find yourself gawking. His perfect stubble across his face, the sweat gleaming on his firm and toned muscles, and the way his chest hairs frame his pecs. Your dick gets hard and you quickly start to massage your bulge. And when you see how well his work jeans fit tightly around his juicy ass, you can’t but help let out a whistle.

“You say somethin’?” He asks, turning to face you, “Yeehaw! Look at you!” He says, clearly gawking.  

You turn to catch a glimpse of yourself in a nearby mirror and your eyes widen. You bounce your juicy pecs, appreciating the light dusting of hairs that decorate them. You raise your thick, meaty arm and flex, causing your muscles to bulge. And then you look at your face. It had squared out a bit, giving it a masculine edge and your cheeks now sported stubble. You felt powerful, and you couldn’t help but continue to flex.

“Hey there big fella.” You let out a masculine moan as Bucky comes from behind you, his arm reaching around, and his hand grabbing a fistful of your muscle tit, “You’re bigger’n a bull in springtime!” You just nod, unable to produce words as pleasure courses through you from his teasing hand, “It sure does get lonesome out here in these parts. Reckon I wouldn’t mind some company, if it ain’t too much trouble.”

He spins you around, your bodies pressing up against one another. His hand moves down your abs and then down your work jeans. He’s staring deep into your eyes now, a primal lust replacing the prior warmth from earlier. And for the first time, you feel lost. Scared even. As though you’re going down a path you wouldn’t be able to back away from. The end of one chapter of your life and the start of another you weren’t sure you wanted.

“Wait a minute... somethin’ don’t feel right. I... this ain’t who I am.” You say, unable to talk like you used to.

“Now, don’t go overthinkin’ it. Just keep your eyes on me.” Bucky whispered, his hands working to undo the buckle on your jeans.

You watch as he pulls down your pants and slowly gets down on his knees. Your enlarged, throbbing dick continues to grow, adding inch after inch. Bucky is nearly salivating as he comes face to face with your monster, and without another word, his tongue traces along the shaft. You moan as his mouth expertly works your cock. He bobs up and down, taking its entirety into his mouth. You feel as his hands wrap around your waist and he grabs a fistful of your muscular ass, causing you to let out another deep, masculine moan. You can feel your dick throbbing, your balls growing heavy with your seed. And as he expertly works the head of your cock, you can feel it. You’re getting close... so close. And then it stops. You’re breathing heavy now, and you look down at him. A sheen of sweat covers your body, dampening your body hair and filling the air with your country musk.

“Wh... why’d ya stop?” You breath out.

Bucky smirks, “You sure 'bout this, darlin’? Leavin’ behind all that city livin’ and book-learnin’? Just you and me, livin’ simple out here?” He licks along your shaft again, “Once you say yes, that’s it. No turnin’ back, no second thoughts. You sure you’re ready for that?”

Was this what he wanted? To bring you so close? To send you into a horny frenzy? To make it so that in this moment, all you’d be able to say was yes? With a smirk and a wink, he went back to sucking your cock. And as he did, you could feel it. You could feel your brain shrinking. Your memories growing up in suburbia vanished. As were your memories of going to college in the city. Nerdy interests like videogames and comic books vanished from your brain, and you felt terror as you forgot about your friends and family. Everything that made you you was vanishing from your mind. Instead, you could feel new interests: farming, hunting, woodworking, lifting weights, and drinking beer with your husband after a long day. Your fashion sense simplified: wifebeaters and work jeans, and honestly going shirtless was preferred. And as your eyes dimmed to reflect your lack of intelligence, and Bucky bobbed up and down on your dick, you finally came, releasing all of who you used to be. And as you filled your husband’s eager throat, you blacked out.

If someone told you who you used to be in your past life, I’m not sure you would go back. When the police came by a few days after your transformation with a missing persons poster of some kid, you had no idea who they were talking about. You quickly forgot all about that encounter. You had more important things like fixing the truck. But before you did that, you should check on Bucky. It’s been a few days, and your balls were mighty full.

[hyuuukais]

heyllo :3

can i request reader x chan? reader is overwhelmed but keeps it in because that’s what they see chan doing a lot of the time. but eventually it builds to a breaking point where the stress causes them to completely shut down. chan doesn’t know exactly what’s wrong so it might be cute if he just sits on the floor in front of reader and plays clips from a song he’s working on and asks for their opinion (by basically talking out loud to himself) and then after reader calms down they are able to verbalize they just need a human weighted blanket and to be told they are doing amazing and their efforts are not going unnoticed.

im fine. 🥲

just hold me, tell me you love me

pairing : chan x reader

notes : me vs the long title. anyway thank uuu for being my first request! i hope this lives up to ur expectations and can provide u some comfort 🫶 sending u hugs and love 🫂💙 sorry it's taken a bit long to get back to! kind of was getting this feeling myself and have been unable to write, but i think i'm getting back

warnings : reader is overwhelmed, mentions of anxiety, fear of opening up to someone, reader is called pet names (love, baby), reader breaks down

wc : 1.4k

All week there's been a growing pressure in your chest threatening to spill all over the floor and leave you a mess, lying on the ground with nothing else to give. Give, you've given all you can, and now that you're home, you can't do it anymore. You seek peace in the quiet of your shared bedroom, your boyfriend still at work in his studio.

Your boyfriend, who works hard day and night. Your boyfriend, who's loving and caring and sweet. Your boyfriend, who you're scared to open up to when things get really hard, because he doesn't share with you either. Although the relationship isn't fresh, going on a year and a half, there are still things you don't talk about. You don't want to burden him with your struggles when you've always been able to power through by yourself.

Fisting the sheets under you, you can feel the need to cry in your body, the hollow feeling in your chest and the tightness in your throat, but nothing comes. It's like your body knows you're too tired for even that simple of an action, for even one tear to slip. So instead, you sit the the blanket over you, face peeking out to stare at the wall with tired eyes. You can't sleep. If you close your eyes, you know you won't drift off and wake up feeling better, you'll just lie there for hours.

"Baby?"

Something spikes in you when you hear Chans voice ring out through the apartment, curling into yourself more. He shouldn't be home this early and yet, here he is, calling your name and wondering where you are; you're never in bed this early. Chan continues to call out for you until you hear the bedroom door opening quietly.

"Love?" Chans footsteps get closer, and you can feel the edge of the bed dip with his weight as he sits down. "My love..."

His hand brushes over your shoulder, but you can't face him. When you bring the blanket over your head more, he seems to get the hint, shifting to lean against the headboard next to the statue that is your body, unmoving and heavy. You can feel him fiddling beside you, and soon, a soft melody fills your ears. It's enough to distract you temporarily from the raging storm in your head, focusing on the beats, and when Chans voice comes through, it's like you can feel a sense of comfort washing over you. Although it's not enough to completely take these feelings away, you're grateful for what he's doing.

"This song has been giving me trouble," Chan comments over the music, sighing heavily. "I can't figure out if I like the chorus or not, and it feels like it's missing something in general, but I don't know what. What do you think, baby?"

Unable to answer verbally, but still wanting him to know you're listening, you roll around so you're facing him. He chuckles as you bury your face under his thigh when you see he's sitting cross-legged, the pressure on your face oddly comforting. Chan places a hand on your back, his arm resting behind your head as he rubs small circles over your thick layer of blanket. Another song starts playing after a while, another soft one, too. You relax under his touch, feeling the vibrations through his body as he hums along to this one and makes occasional comments about changes he'd like to make.

Exhaustion hits you like a ton of bricks, your eyes fluttering shut as he keep playing different songs and telling you all about them. Both of you are aware that he shouldn't be playing so much unreleased music, but all Chan cares about in this moment is you, helping you, calming you, loving you. The company will never know anyway.

"Chan," You whisper, voice barely audible. His humming stops and he pauses the music, looking down at your limp form with furrowed brows. Moving your head slightly, you're able to look up at him on an angle, the cool air of the bedroom breaching your blanket cocoon.

"What is it, baby?" Chan moves some hair from your face, leaving this palm to rest on your cheek.

"Can you just-" You clear your throat, one hand coming up to play with the hem of his shorts at his knee to calm you more. "Just hold me, tell me you love me?"

Without words, he shifts down to your level and nods. Carefully, Chan guides you to face away from him and brings you close to his body, your back pressed tightly against his chest. His chin rests on your shoulder, now enveloped inside your blanket as he holds onto you tightly, scared that if he let's go, you'll fade away. The thought of you being in so much pain, whether physical or emotional, is something he can't bear; he can't sit on the sidelines and watch you wither away. Neither of you speak as you lie there for what feels like hours, although it must only be a few minutes. The feeling of Chan's breath on your neck is oddly comforting, your own hands finding his arm around your waist and holding onto him.

Something about the way Chan is holding you, comforting you without the pressure of being asked what's wrong, has you finally breaking down. It starts small, holding back a few tears, but a few escaping despite your efforts. Then Chan shifts closer, pressing soft lips on the skin behind your ear.

"I love you, you know that? So, so much," He whispers, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as he buries his face into your hair. "You're doing amazing, baby, and I mean that. I thought... I thought something might have been wrong, but I didn't know how to go about this. I'm sorry it got to this point, I should have asked. I want you to know you can always turn to me, okay?"

His words have the dam breaking and soon enough, the sobs ripping from your chest have you gasping and hiccupping like there's no tomorrow. You don't register the way Chan tries to soothe you as he pulls you around and into his chest. Subconsciously, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and roll his body onto yours, his head sitting in the crook of your neck. The weight feels nice, grounding, and you can finally hear Chan speaking again.

"Shhh, it's okay, you're okay." Chan whispers into the skin of your neck, one of his hands smoothing back your hair. "You're okay, I'm here, now breathe, alright? Breathe, baby."

He inhales deeply, and you do your best to mimic his movements. It's shaky, but you're doing it.

"Good job, you're doing great," Chan keeps his voice low as he speaks. "Keep breathing."

It gets to the point where you don't need to think about breathing anymore, your head throbbing slightly from the sudden outburst of emotion. Chan's body stays on yours, but he props himself up enough to look at you, his palm on your cheek and his thumb wiping away any remaining tears. You can barely look him in the eye.

All he does is stare at you with those pretty, dark eyes, but you realize there's a dampness under them matching yours. You open your mouth to question it, but he shakes his head, a soft smile on his face.

"I don't want you to be in pain alone ever again." His thumb continues to caress your cheek, even though the tears have dried. "I love you too much to let you go through that. Whatever's going on, tell me when you're ready, yeah? For now, just let me gush about my beautiful partner until they're feeling better."

You can't help the small laugh that escapes you as Chan surges up to pepper your face in kisses, saying praises in between each one. With every kiss, you can feel your face heating up until you try and cover it, but he just grabs your wrists and pulls your hands away. Eventually, he slows down, pressing one last kiss directly on your lips, and settles back onto you.

"Let's stay like this for a while," Chan suggests, knowing you need it, but so does he. "My favourite place is in your arms."

-

─── taglist : @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom

[megvmins]

THE MOST TOUCHSTARVED VS THE MOST TOUCHY BOYS AWARDS

warnings: none, very fluffy

a/n: now i'm only doing the top three as the headcanons could get pretty repetitive but i'll do some headcanons for more characters later in a different post.

touchstarved boys awards

#3 KAJI: I believe he doesn't need that much physical affection overall but most of it stems from him being terrified that he could snap back into his angry self. before hiragi helps him get the hang of it, he avoids you like the plague which in turn makes you feel like he hates your guts but it's the opposite. he cares for you too much to let you see him snap and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he hurt you. but once he gets it under control? he does crave some skinship – holding hands is almost a must but sometimes the guys would tease him and he ends up throwing a hand around your shoulders/waist instead. 

#2 SUGISHITA: he avoids physical affection if it doesn't come from umemiya most of the time but sometimes he kind of misses the warmth of another person. when you start dating he becomes your shadow, stands behind you closer and closer every time until he brings himself to rest his chin on top of your head or shoulder if you are taller. if you point it out he will flush deep red that even sakura would be amazed and immediately lets go. he doesn't want many people in his personal space but you soothe his temper. loves when you hook his pinky finger with yours and swing your hands between you two. 

#1 SAKURA: obviously due to his life up until joining furin he didn't even know there could be physical touch that's good so when he figures it out he finds himself almost hungry for any little bit of physical affection. the hunger only grows with every little brush of your fingers when you walk side by side or playful ruffle of his hair even if you scold him by flicking his forehead he cherishes the warmth of your touch. he definitely won't slip up much in public as his embarrassment would literally make him explode like a volcano but in private? he would become a lot clingier. hugging you tight and not letting go as fast, volunteering his chest for you to sit against when watching a movie or intertwining your fingers with his before he drifts off to sleep with a dopey smile on his face when you're already deep in slumber.  

the most touchy boys awards (under the cut!)

#3 CHOJI: straight up doesn't understand personal space, it's free real estate for him. he pulls you around by your hand everywhere. it's honestly admirable how fast he walks even though he is not that tall but he will slow down for you if you tell him to. something in me tells me he loves head rubs and head pats as praise. loves surprising you with quick pecks on the lips or cheeks because “i just felt like giving you a kiss.” i also believe he moves around a lot during his sleep so only if you literally lock him down with your legs and arms are you safe from getting kicked off the bed or hit in the face when he rolls over.

#2 TSUBAKINO: same as ume, tsubaki is a naturally touchy person, it's part of who he is. in addition to him having the worst cute aggression and absolutely zero self-control about it. if at any point his brain says you look cute he will act on it. if you eat something and it makes you look like a chipmunk he will gush and coo and dab the corners of your lips for you. definitely pulls on your cheeks out of nowhere just to make you talk funny because he finds it adorable. sidehugs, backhugs, welcome home hugs, you-look-so-cute-i-could-eat-you-up hugs you name it he does it. also please please please brush his hair for him with his head on your lap or massage his head like that and he will melt. will do the same for you in a heartbeat.

#1 UMEMIYA: it goes without saying but he won't let a single chance escape him. he offers high-fives to you when something good happens just to intertwine your fingers once your palms touch and pull you in to kiss your forehead. one of his hands is always on you in some way – around your shoulders, on your lower back guiding you through crowds, on your thigh when sitting down to give you gentle reassurance that he's there. he's so clingy that it's weird when he isn't around. you get so used to him in your personal space that when he's not there, you feel a sense of loss – like something is clearly missing and then you see him running up to you like an excited golden retriever to hug you and spin you around and everything feels right again. 

[inuyashaluver]

airport havoc with reader and leah’s 3 kids😩

mumma williamson - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which you and your wife handle your children at an airport, a roller coaster for everyone involved

warnings: leah never did her acl, looonnngg, really don’t know how to feel about this one

a/n: thank you for the request lovely, this was super fun ❤️ also - i unintentionally wrote this at the airport lmao

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your wife, leah have been together for just over 10 years, it seems unbelievable but you and leah have been basically in love with each other all your lives, taking years of mutual pining and a gentle push of your teammates.

you’d met leah in the arsenal youth teams, becoming quick best friends through both of your competitive natures. “i’m gonna win” little leah says with a toothy grin, giving you a light shove. “not if i win first!” you say cheekily. and that describes your entire relationship, competitive, genuine, loving and comforting.

when you finally started dating at 16, you grew closer and closer over the years, both physically and emotionally. you two just got each other, everyone around you telling you that you were soulmates and you couldn’t help but agree.

—

if there was one thing to know about your wife, it was that she is incredibly convincing. this girl could have you doing anything she wanted and you would because you love her so much. she was exactly the same, if you wanted something, she would make it happen, no if’s, and’s, or but’s.

so when you both hit 22, leah took you to her house for christmas, where she brought her cousin’s baby over with a pleading expression. “baby, look” she pouts, cradling the baby’s head to her chin as she gently bounced up and down. you couldn’t help but grin longingly.

you had to admit, everytime leah held a baby, your ovaries would explode, you knew she’d be an amazing mother and you were willing to give her that.

so, you put your career on hold to have your first child, amanda, named after her mother but called mandy for short. you and leah were ecstatic to have a little girl, both of you crying when you were told the gender.

after you had baby mandy, you’d taken months off before making your return, working extremely hard and honestly playing better than you ever have. leah was incredibly proud of you, telling you everyday. you were both so content with your little family, until it flipped completely.

during a game, you’d manage to get a goal which saved the match for arsenal vs chelsea at the emirates.

when it happened, leah bolted over to you, hoisting you up in a tight embrace. “look at you, mummy williamson” she winks, giving your cheek an affectionate kiss as you tried to push her off out of embarrassment.

“stop it, mumma williamson” throwing her a half assed wink, she laughs and bumps her hip with yours, running back to her position for the last two minutes of the match. by the time you’d done your lap of signatures and photos, you and leah make way to the family and friends section, taking baby mandy from leah’s mum and taking her around the field.

she was a year old at this point, your teammates immediately running over to her and giving her all their love.

you held mandy on your hip, she’d fallen asleep. you lightly chat with some of the girls while rocking your baby gently as she sleeps against your shoulder.

leah stood behind you and took in the scene, her wife and her daughter, ‘williamson’ shining brightly on their backs. she walks up behind you and wraps her arms around your waist, gently kissing your neck and smirking when your breath hitches.

“lee” you breathe out, she tightens her grip, “hm?” she places a kiss just below your ear and you lean into her. you let out a shaky sigh when she continues to press soft kisses against the right sight of your neck. “what? i can’t kiss my beautiful wife?” she says smugly, spinning you around gently so she could face you.

“i know what you’re doing” you sing out, leah looks at you with fake confusion. “what? nah, baby, i’m not doing anything” she moves her hand to lightly tug at the bottom of your jersey and you squint your eyes at her. her finger dips under your shirt to lightly graze the skin of your waist and you grab her hand before she continues. you were both literally standing in the middle of the pitch.

—

when leah saw how much of an amazing mother you were, her heart exploded. she’d known you’d be an amazing one but the fact that you carried her child and gave her the privilege of becoming a mother herself, how could she not want another?

that night, when you arrive home, leah pushes you on the couch as she carried a sleeping baby mandy in her arms. “hey!” you whisper shout and she just grins at you, winking to wordlessly tell you to wait there for her. once she put the baby in her bed, she comes out with the baby monitor in hand, placing it on the coffee table before making you lie flat on the couch so she could lie on top of you.

“hi, mumma” she says cheekily, leaning down to place a sweet kiss on your lips as she hovered over you. “hello” you mumble against her lips in between her kisses. she pulls away and looks at you suggestively, “you know, i’ve been thinking..” she starts, “oh, that’s not good” you grin, she rolls her eyes amusingly as she pinches your hip. “shut up, anyway, you know, you’re such an amazing mum, baby” she says adoringly, her eyes glistening as she speaks.

you place a gentle hand on her cheek, “you’re an amazing mum too, lovey” you grin softly, she leans forward to kiss your lips. it’s starts off slow and calculated, until she feels your hand dip under her shirt and graze your nails on her skin and a switch flips.

a needy make out session progressing quickly, she pulls away from you breathlessly and looks down at you with blown out pupils. “i want to run an idea past you if you’re comfortable” she breathes out, getting off you to sit up and tapping her lap for you to join her which you happily do.

you knew where she was going and you were in the same mindset. you wanted another baby. she nervously plays with the hem of your shirt, unable to look into your eyes because she was so nervous. you smile, placing a hand under her chin and directi her eyes to yours. “you want another baby” you say simply, affection laced in your words.

leah looked at you with wide eyes and an unmistakable grin. “only if you want to” she replies, grabbing your hands and squeezing them gently. you nod and smile, leaning forward to peck her lips, then her cheeks, her forehead and her nose. she looks up at you, completely love sick. you lean forward to whisper in her ear, “put another baby in me, williamson” and that’s all it took for her to lift you up and run to the bedroom. sure, leah couldn’t put a baby in you like this, but the both of you weren’t complaining.

so that’s how baby cathrine, cat for short, came along. you begged leah to name the girl after her middle name because you found it so cute and she begrudgingly agreed, willing to let you name the baby anything you wanted as you were carrying her child. at this point, mandy was two and a half while baby catherine was just a year old.

—

one day after training, you’d gone to the shops to quickly get some groceries and came back to leah sprawled out on the floor with your two daughters, their little heads propped up on your wife’s arms, completely engrossed on the screen. walking closer to the sweet scene in front of you, you realise leah had put on a video of your highlights

“mummy’s so cool isn’t she?” leah says proudly, mandy nodding and watching intently, cat reaching her arm out in a grabbing motion when there was a close up of you after your chelsea goal which prompted her birth but you would never tell her that.

“mumma’s cooler i think” you say suddenly and all three of them jolt, snapping their heads towards you. leah looked at you with so much love in her eyes, you nearly collapsed. the entire rest of the night, you couldn’t keep your hands off leah and she just knew what you wanted because she wanted the same thing.

when the two girls were tucked in by you and leah, after they were sound asleep, you drag leah to the couch, pushing her onto it and immediately straddling her. “oh, hello” she giggles, placing her hands on your thighs. “i need to ask you something” you say nervously, feeling so vulnerable in this moment for no reason.

“you want another baby, don’t you?” leah says simply, a deja vu moment for both of you.

you instantly nod, “only if you want to” you whisper and she kisses you sweetly. “i’d have 50 babies with you if i could but i care about this and you” she pokes your stomach cheekily and you giggle with her at her response. and so, baby olivia was born, liv for short.

you’d taken some time off football to be a mum, spending your time with your kids until they were old enough to go to preschool/school. you’d made your comeback during the euros, a euphoric experience being in your national team that your wife captained while your three kids sat with your families watching.

—

and now in present time, it was the 2023 world cup. your wife was named captain and both of you get called up. it was a no brainer that you would bring your kids along for the world cup, mandy was now 4, cat was 3 and liv was 1. you’d been to the airport with your kids before but not like this, you were flying internationally, with your teammates, for over 16 hours.

you had expressed to leah how nervous you were about it but she constantly reassured you that everything would be fine. crazily enough, your children were extremely well behaved, the girls absolutely loved having them around. many of them teased you that all three of them were just complete carbon copies of you and leah mixed together.

—

and so, you, leah and your three daughters arrived at the airport with excited grins, you and leah were in your training kits while your daughters all wore their ‘williamson’ jerseys. you held liv along with dragging two suitcases in your other hand while leah held mandy’s hand, mandy holding cat’s, leah held all your documents in her other hand while you all walked through the airport. thankfully, england had gotten a private plane for your arrivals, as there was so many of you coming along for the trip.

you’d done all the check ins, dropped off your luggage and that left the five of you to chill and wait until boarding. your kids throughout check in and security were perfect little angels, you and leah constantly giving each other surprised and proud grins. you were so impressed by your kids behaviour until they saw their aunties at the airport, all of them switching completely.

each and every teammate of yours was always an auntie, so when your kids are surrounded with almost all of them, they go insane. as soon as mandy sees her favourite auntie, georgia, she sprints away from the both of you and jumps into her awaiting arms.

“my little mandy!” georgia exclaims, hugging the girl tightly, she laughs gleefully when georgia litters kisses on her cheeks. “careful, amanda” leah scolds when the small girl ripped her hand from her own. georgia waves leah off and leah can’t help but send her a half-hearted scowl.

cat however also had a favourite auntie, the small girl sprinting over to auntie lucy through the influence of her big sister. “lu-lu” cat squeals, her little feet bounding over to the brunette.

lucy gives the small girl a bright grin and an affectionate kiss to the cheek before gently throwing her in the air and catching her, spinning the girl around as they both giggle with each other.

“oh my god” leah breathes out terrified, scared lucy would drop her. you wrap your arm around her bicep, she looks down at you with uneasy eyes but washes away at your comforting grin.

“hello, kitty cat!” lucy coos, taking her to watch the big window where the planes were taking off and landing.

you tug her over towards some open seats, sitting down and looking up at her with a bright smile. “come on, captain” you tap the seat next to you encouragingly. liv snuggles into you further, her hand gripping your jacket tightly as she buries her face into your neck.

leah looks at you with a little pout, she felt a little betrayed that none of her girls wanted to stay with her, instead running off around the section in the airport where the lionesses were situated.

well, liv did stay, but the girl was passed out against your shoulder, cuddling into you completely. “all our baby girls are gone, we’re empty nesters” she huffs, you just shake your head at her gently.

leah lets out a defeated sigh but smiles at you and liv, taking out her phone and snapping a quick picture before sitting next to you, placing a warm hand on your thigh while your head rests on her shoulder.

“oh, leah baby,” you coo amusingly, “we’re not empty nesters, my love, they’re just excited” you hold onto the arm that was holding your thigh.

“they don’t want us anymore” she pouts, you take your head off her shoulder and pull her down to kiss you softly, she can’t help but smile into it while you run your nails over her arm.

“they do, baby, don’t look into it too much” you part from her with a kiss to her cheek. you look into her eyes to reassure her and it seems to do the trick, she nods and smiles at you, quickly kissing your lips appreciatively. “yeah, you're right, darling” she breathes out and trails her eyes over your face.

“it’s alright, lee, i’ll just annoy you” you say cheekily and she kisses the top of your head, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. “you never annoy me, my girl” she smiles, resting her head on top of yours as she watches her daughters interact with your teammates.

contempt, she closes her eyes for just a second until she feels a little body clawing itself into her lap, opening her eyes to see mandy looking at her with wide and excited eyes. “hi, mumma” she grins happily and leah smiles at her affectionately, “hi, baby girl, you having fun?” leah questions, mandy nods her head instantly. mandy was in a stage where she asks questions every two seconds, leah was in for a ride.

you sit beside them and watch the interaction while liv was still passed out on your shoulder.

“why are we here?” mandy cocks her head to the side and leah couldn’t help but grin, “mummy and I are playing football” leah remarks, the small girl grabs her hand and begins to play with her fingers. “but, mummy said you can’t play football at the airport” she cocks her head to the side and stared up at leah confused.

leah lets out a little laugh, moving her hand up to pinch her cheek gently. “mummy’s right, darling, but i meant we’re playing football in another place” leah speaks full of affection, mandy nods and turns her head to smile at you,

“hi, mummy” mandy offers you a toothy grin and you send her one right back, “hi, princess” you lift your hand up to give her a gentle pinch on her cheek. mandy suddenly snaps her head towards leah again and leah’s eyes slightly widen, “where are we going?” the girl queries, “australia” leah replies with another soft smile.

“that’s where auntie caity and steffy are from!” mandy remarks with a bright grin, leah nods along with her, “that’s right, smart girl!” she praises, placing her hand on her head and lightly ruffling her hair.

mandy hates that, offering leah the signature williamson glare and leah just laughs loudly, looking at you with an amused grin, you laugh along with them. suddenly, little cat runs over with a bright grin, climbing on top of the seat and sitting on one of leah’s legs and one of your legs. “hello, catty” you say brightly, the girl smiles at you, “mummy! i saw the plane!” she says completely astonished, you and leah both offer her shocked expressions, “did you really?” the small girl nods enthusiastically and you and leah have expressions full of love evident on your faces, a couple of your teammates watching your family interact with one another with elated grins.

liv who was asleep until now slowly begins to stir, taking her face out of your neck and looking completely disheveled. you and leah let out a little giggle at your daughter’s appearance, she offers you a tired smile before blinking slowly and taking in her surroundings.

“hello, baby” leah coos, liv smiles gently and rests her head on your chin, leah pouts at the sight, her heart soaring out of her chest. “she’s so cute” leah boasts, you nod your head in agreement and hug the little girl closer to your chest.

“what about us?” cat exclaims and you both look over to see two unimpressed glares staring at the both of you, the two of you immediately fuss over them. “look at our cute and pretty girls, huh, mummy, aren’t they the best?” leah asserted, nodding over in your direction where you nodded instantly.

“oh definitely, mumma, prettiest and cutest girls alive” you affirm, both you and leah nodding enthusiastically and it seemed to work on your daughters, both of them sporting shy grins. liv still tight in your embrace cuddles into you further, babbling random words as she stares at her sisters.

you were growing slightly uncomfortable, the small girl had been sitting in your arms for so long, they were growing tired. you try to stretch and leah notices your discomfort, moving immediately to grab the small girl, holding her in her arms and you let out a sigh of relief, smiling at leah appreciatively.

liv was happy to move as well, giving leah a sweet kiss on the cheek which had tears brimming in your eyes. you can’t help but look at them full of love, leah instantly growing shy under your gaze. “stop it” she mumbles and grows pink at the sound of your affectionate giggle.

leah has always slightly freaked out when she sees you looking at her completely love sick, often feeling like it was a dream that her dream girl was looking at her full of love.

the two girls on your’s and leah’s laps brighten at your now vacant body, both of them trying to get over to you as quick as they could. you had each girl on a thigh each, letting out a little laugh at leah’s frustrated face, she wanted you to rest a little before the flight and she just knew you wouldn’t be getting that till much later. “girls, no, let’s leave mummy to rest, please” leah commented, trying to coax your daughters to get off you but they wouldn’t budge.

“no!” cat exclaims, grabbing your arm tightly and shaking her head at leah, mandy does the same thing, grabbing your other arm and holding it as tight as she could, they were just like their mother, stubborn, you thought. “yes, come on, let mummy relax, she’s very tired” leah says sternly, patting the chair next to her for them to sit in.

you open your mouth to assure leah it was okay but before you could, you hear a whimper from your lap, looking down to see cat’s eyes swelling with tears. both your and leah’s eyes widen, at seeing her sister cry, mandy begins to cry. “mummy, i’m sorry” cat wails, cuddling into you and you instantly hug the girl back, mandy follows in suit and holds onto you tightly.

“why are you sorry, lovey?” you coo, running your hands over both of their backs in comforting circles. “we are making you tired” mandy cries, nuzzling her head into your chest. you look at leah beside you with wide eyes, faced with your wife and your youngest looking at you with shocked and confused expressions. “baby, i-” leah tries to respond but she’s just so shocked, she didn’t think her words would spur a reaction like that.

“no no, my girls, it’s okay, you’re not making mummy tired” you reassure but the two girls continue to cry, leah dips her head to make eye contact with the two of them but they refuse to look at her. leah pouts at you, she made her babies cry. you move back from the two of them and they face you with matching, tearful expressions, their pouts going unmissed. “aw, girls don’t cry, it’s okay” you smile softly, wiping both of their tears away with the pads of your thumbs.

“babies” leah calls out, all three of you look up and leah mutters up all her strength to bite back a smile. “did mumma make you sad?” leah questions, placing liv on one of her thighs and holding her hands out to them, mandy grabs one and shuffles closer to leah. the two of them nod, pouting up at their mum. “oh, my loves, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to make you sad, i just want mummy to feel good for the flight” leah says earnestly, placing a small kiss on mandy’s head and holding cat’s little hand in the other.

“it’s okay, mumma” cat says, lifting leah’s hand up and placing a little kiss on the back of it, you and leah wear identical grins. mandy nods at her sister’s words, wrapping her arms around leah’s neck and hugging her tightly. leah looks at you with the biggest smile, you giggle at the little interaction. cat moves to hug you, holding onto you tightly and pressing her cheek up against your own, smiling at leah. leah could’ve crumbled at the sight before her, knowing you felt the same with her.

after the moment of solidarity with one another, you hear a bright laugh coming from leah’s right thigh, looking over and seeing liv with a bright smile at seeing you all hug. leah brings her over to the middle of you and you all have a little group hug, hearing multiple ‘aw so cute’’s coming from your teammates.

when you pull away from the hug, mandy immediately bombards you with questions, making both you and leah laugh. the team had gotten called to board the plane and the girls all perk up, excited to embark on the journey to australia. leah takes over with liv, the girl extremely cuddly and wanting to go back to sleep, seeming as though the arms of her mums lulls her into dreamland.

on the other hand, you’re being dragged by two sets of hands, mandy and cat’s. “mummy, quickly” mandy huffs, sending you a little scowl when you giggle at her attitude. “sorry, baby, mummy will hurry” you tease, leah places a hand on the small of your back and leads you all to your seats.

“these two will be handfuls, baby, let me take care of them and you take this one” leah gently passes liv over to you, you smile and pucker your lips up at leah, which she quickly leans down to place a quick kiss on your lips.

she pulls away slightly, pecking them numerous times until she feel small hands on her legs, dragging her to the seat directly next to you. “do you see these little monsters you made” leah says jokingly, you stick your tongue out at her and shrug your shoulders. “i may have carried them, but they’re all you, williamson” you smirk. leah tutts, but smiles at you, “yeah, yeah, williamson, whatever, look at how stubborn they are, that’s all you”. leah teases and you roll your eyes at her jokingly, both of you knew that your daughters were clones of the both of you.

she takes mandy and cat and sits them in their seats, immediately putting on movies for both of them to watch, both of them entertained wholeheartedly. leah smiles at both of them, “can i sit with mummy or do you need me?” they both look at her with cheesy grins, “go kiss mummy” mandy teases, leah’s eyes widen with amusement, laughing and ruffling the girls hair and again gaining an icy scowl.

leah moves away to where you were, liv sleeping soundly on your lap while you sit and look up at her with a smile. “hello, mumma williamson” you say adoringly, your wife leaning down to place a kiss on your lips before sitting next to you. “hello, mummy williamson” she replies cheekily, placing another peck on your lips before settling in her seat beside you.

“they’re awfully quiet” you whisper in your wife’s ear, she nods in agreement, both of you look over to see your two daughters sleeping, heads resting on each other while completely out cold. you and leah look at each other sweetly, “we made them” leah pouts, you nod with a matching one, “we made them” you mirror, both of you have eyes full of pride and adoration.

the rest of the flight, the girls were mostly asleep, waking up to ask you to take them to the bathroom or for a little snack or meal before dozing off completely. “i think we should go on planes more often, look how perfect” you point at your sleeping daughters, leah smiles at you sleepily, clearly wanting to join. “let’s sleep” leah kisses your forehead and you rest your head on her shoulder, the five of you asleep and fully contempt.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by stanwaygeorgia and 44,232 others

leahwilliamsonn: all my pretty babies

view all comments

yourname: leah williamson is a milf

↳ leahwilliamsonn: (y/n) williamson is a milf

stanwaygeorgia: my little monster

luzybronze: kitty cat

mbrighty04: still shocked at how you made such perfect children, considering both of you are fucking handfuls

↳ leahwilliamsonn: just because you’re second captain doesn’t mean you can put us down like that

↳ yourname: yeah! tell her, baby!

↳ mbrighty04: okay captain, you’re still a handful

↳ yourname: i won’t deny that

↳ leahwilliamsonn: baby!

[enwoso]

Alessia Russo + reporter!gf, where Alessia is nonstop flirting with Reader on national television when you're trying to interview her

LIVE TO ALL — alessia russo

masterlist

you were a sports journalist for itv, travelling up and down the country as well as across the world each week to cover matches as well as try and get some of the players thoughts and opinions on the game.

today was the england lionesses vs sweden at home, at a sold out wembley. the game being tense but the girls pulling out a win by one goal and of course it being scored by non other than the alessia russo who just happened to be on your radar to interview.

normally it would take some convincing from some players to get them to do a quick post match interview, most players after a win wanting to celebrate and after a loss was when it was even harder to get players to interview as they just generally weren’t in the mood, understandably.

however luckily you wouldn’t have to do much convincing to get england’s star girl for an interview as she just so happened to also be your girlfriend. so one little bat of the eyelashes and a flash of the smile and the blonde would be right over.

so as your team handed her a mic as she walked over from the pitch hugging you tight as you sent her a loving smile trying your best to remain professional but the girl just looked so gorgeous even after running around a pitch for ninety minutes, her hair slicked back a few flyaways had came loose above her as well as her cheeks being slightly flushed pink probably from the amount of running she’d done.

“so alessia another sold out wembley for the lionesses, does the feeling ever change walking out and seeing that many people in the stadium?” you began the interview as alessia nodded along with what you were saying, her bottom lip inbetween her teeth as you watched as her eyes roamed your face as she held her eye contact with you instead of the camera like she was supposed to.

there was a slight pause between your question and the blonde starting her answer, “oh um it definitely helps to keep us motivated whilst we are playing- as we love seeing our fans pack out stadiums and creating as much noise as possible!”

“speaking of motivation, what helps to keep you fired up especially when your playing top teams like sweden?” you asked as you seen alessia giggle to herself, you being thankful for the fact that the camera can’t see the look your throwing alessia right now.

“well away from football there’s definitely someone who does that for me-” the blonde making direct eye contact with you as a smirk crept onto her face. you knew exactly what she was insinuating on and while the your relationship wasn’t exactly out there it wasn’t a big secret either fans definitely had their suspicions and alessia right now was definitely adding fuel to that fire.

she carried on, you sending the blonde another stern look that told her to behave, “but the staff at england as well as the girls we all do our part to ensure that’s we can all play to the best of our ability to ensure we get the result that we want as a team and as a nation” she smiled innocently as she finished awaiting your next question.

you began to explain the importance of the goal that alessia scored to start off the lionesses euro qualifying campaign while alessia well she was just staring at you, totally zoned out as she licked her lips. her eyes scanning your outfit as she imagined maybe what it would look like on the floor of your shared bedroom…

“and finally how does it feel to finally get your first goal at wembley especially the one that sealed the win for you guys” you finished with a quick smile, slightly kicking the blonde which wasn’t able to be seen by the camera which shook the blonde from her daydream.

“oh- um, wait i- sorry what was the question?” alessia flushed red with embarrassment as you were the one now with a smirk, knowing by her face she hadn’t been listening and also having a suspicion of why she hadn’t been but nevertheless repeating the question again for her.

“yeah, it’s always a good feeling to score at wembley makes it that little bit special but anything to help the team out”

“well thank you alessia and well done for tonight!” you applauded with a smile as alessia nodded, “thank you babe” alessia said so causally, you quickly spinning around mouth wide open as you eyes widened.

the interview already been finished as your team off-mic’d you both. alessia with a smirk which was widening on her face, you knew she had done that on purpose.

“i love you?” she whispered, as she looked at your less than pleased look on your face.

“your on thin ice miss russo!” you warned narrowing your eyes at the blonde as she slung her arm around your shoulders guiding you both down the tunnel as you knew she was rolling her eyes at your stern tone.

“hey! it’s not my fault the person who was interviewing me happened to be my really sexy, beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend!”

[barefoot-joker]

Against Heaven and Hell~Yandere!Adam X Reader X Yandere!Lucifer

Hello, everybody! Welcome back to my Hazbin Hotel hyperfixation! Today I bring you a Yandere! Adam vs Yandere! Lucifer story. I think this one turned out alright but let me know what you think. As always, enjoy and have a great day/night!

Words: 1972

Warnings: Swearing, Adam being Adam, Car Crash, Contract Signing, Kidnapping

I bit my lip as I looked at myself in the full length mirror. The girls and I were going out tonight and I wanted to look my best. It had been a few months since we’d seen each other after all. I smoothed out my black and red plaid pants and fluffed my black dress shirt. Deciding I was presentable enough I walked to my kitchen. I grabbed my keys off the counter, put on my black bomber jacket and black boots, and walked out my apartment door. I locked the door behind me and continued my way to the elevator. Hitting the button for the first floor, I found myself tapping my foot as I waited.

Ding!

The doors opened and I walked out. I headed to the parking garage to the left of my apartment building and walked up the few flights of stairs to my car. Since I was the designated driver I made sure a few days before my vehicle was nice and tidy. I put on some tunes as I drove down several blocks before arriving near the center of the city. I parked on a side street and pulled out my phone, texting Ashley that I was ready for them. I scrolled through social media for a few minutes when there was a tap on my window. I looked up and saw Ashley, Shiloh and Tiffany standing there. I unlocked the doors and they all got in. “Hey, girl! Long time no see!” Ashley, sitting in the passenger seat, gave me a tight hug.

“It’s nice to see all of you too. Gosh, it feels like it’s been forever.”

“It really has. But no time is like the present as they say!” Tiffany piped up from the back seat. 

We all nodded in agreement. “So, where should we go?”

“How about Tito’s? I heard they have a $3 special going on tonight.” Shiloh said.

“Tito’s it is then.”

With that I started the car and drove further into the city. We arrived at Tito’s around 7 pm and after parking the car, walked inside. The bar was quite busy that night with many couples sharing tables and others taking to the dance floor as a live band played. The four of us took to a booth across from the bar and ordered our drinks. The girls had gotten some classics like a gin and tonic, old fashioned and Manhattan while I just had my favorite soda. I was the designated driver after all. We sat and chatted for hours, and it soon was 10 pm and my friends were wasted. I struggled to carry all of them to the car as they giggled drunkenly, grasping onto me tightly. “Oh my god, Y/n! You’re so cute, you know that?” Shiloh said, giggling slightly.

“Yeah, yeah.”

I had to lean Tiffany and Shiloh against the back door as I struggled to put Ashley in. “Stop, Y/n! That tickles! Stop!”

I grunted as I managed to get her in with her seat belt on. Quickly I rounded to the back of the car and started to get Shiloh in. Tiffany slid to the ground and started to laugh uncontrollably. This was going to be a rough night.

It took about 15 minutes but I had finally gotten everybody in the car. I drove everybody back to Ashley’s apartment and started to unload them into the hallway. “Y/n, please stay. We can like have a big sleepover!” Ashley slurred.

“Sorry, honey. I’ve got work in the morning. But I’m sure Tiffany and Shiloh wouldn’t mind your company.”

I leaned down to the “Welcome” mat by Ashley’s door and grabbed the spare key. Unlocking the door, I dragged in all three girls. I placed Ashley on her armchair and Shiloh and Tiffany on the couch. Once I made sure they were all cozy, I snuck out before they could grab onto me. I made sure to replace the key under the mat before I walked back to my car. 

The drive home was a bit chaotic. There were lots of people on the streets wandering around due to it being a Friday night and night life was hopping. I was placed out of my thoughts as my light turned green. I was in the middle of the intersection when suddenly my car was struck on the side by a much larger vehicle. I tried to regain control of the wheel as my stomach clenched, however, the car began to flip. I couldn’t even get a scream out as another car came and smashed into the front of mine. I could feel the car being slid across the road before slamming into a building. My head flew forwards and smacked into the wheel before flying back. My vision was doubling as I heard faint screams from the street. Just as my eyes began to close, I could have sworn I saw golden wings descending from the sky.

Before I even opened my eyes, I could feel warmth around me. It didn’t feel like a blanket or anything more like the Sun beaming down upon me. I slowly opened my eyes only to be blinded by bright light. Everything seemed to be overly saturated as I looked around and the gentle humming of violins filled the air. I sat up with a groan and held my head, a slight dull pain hitting it. What happened?

Suddenly, a set of double white doors flew open and revealed a tall, large man in a white, gold and purple robe, a demon looking mask on his face with black horns scraping behind his head. Beside him a smaller female with a black and white devilish mask, gray dress and white and black wings stood. “Ah good, you’re finally awake, babe.”

“Who are you?”

“Adam, first man. Autographs are extra, sweetheart. And this is Lute, my assistant.”

I just stared at him. What in the world? “Um, I hate to ask, but where am I?”

“You’re in Heaven, toots!”

“H-Heaven? You mean like Heaven and Hell Heaven?”

Adam’s yellow eyes rolled. “Duh! What other Heaven do you know of?”

My hands touched my chest and then my face. If I’m here does that mean-

“You’re not dead if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Then how’d I get here? I thought only dead people saw the Pearly Gates?”

Adam’s smile grew wide and the sight of fangs alarmed me. “I may have pulled a few strings to get you here. Please hold the applause. You can thank me later.”

“Um, okay.”

“I’ll give you a few minutes to collect yourself, but don’t keep me waiting for too long.”

He snapped his fingers and the two left. When the doors closed, I took a few moments to breathe. What exactly happened? All I could remember was driving back home from Ashley’s apartment, getting into a huge car crash and golden wings descending from the sky. Could that have been Adam? But then did he know I was going to get into a wreck? Could angels predict that sort of stuff? 

I shook my head and stood up from the bed I was on. Looking down I was in a light blue medical gown and my feet were bare. Was I in a hospital back on Earth? “You almost ready in there, babe? It’s been a while.”

“C-coming.”

“Not without me I hope.”

I stopped before the door. Did he say what I think he said? Whatever.

I opened it and stepped out. “Finally. Now come on, toots. Let the first man show you around!”

Before I could say anything, he slung a tight arm around my shoulders, and we walked off. 

Heaven wasn’t quite what I expected. It was almost like the city I lived in just without what would be considered sin. Every angel smiled and waved as the three of us walked by and it was almost sickening how happy everybody was. “So how do you like Heaven, babe? Does it surpass your expectations?”

“I guess. I wasn’t really expecting to be here. How did I get here again?”

“That doesn’t matter. The important thing is that we’re together! Especially now that you’ve got a real man in your life!”

“Sir, you said you’d hold off on that information.”

“Oh what’s the big deal, Lute? Toots will be stuck here anyway.”

I stopped walking and the two turned to look at me. “Stuck here? What are you talking about? You said I wasn’t dead.”

“Not yet. But as soon as my favor goes through then you’re all mine, sweetheart.”

“F-favor? Are you going to kill me?!”

“Eh, sacrifices need to be made. But I can assure you my dick is good.” He winked.

“Get away from me!”

I bolted as fast as I could. “Lute, grab her!”

I could hear the flapping of wings as I continued to run. Just as I was rounding a corner, I could feel myself falling. It wasn’t fast but more like floating back to Earth. The light around me dissipated into a grayness and I felt myself land softly.

My eyes flickered open and it took me a few minutes to realize I was in a hospital room. I sat up quickly and looked around frantically. I couldn’t see any angels around, so I leaned back in bed. A knock sounded at the wooden door and in walked a short man with blonde hair. He had on a white dress shirt and red tie, white pants and black boots. He stopped by the side of my bed and a pleased smile graced his lips. “Thank goodness you’re alright. I thought you’d never wake up. You were in a coma for a few days.”

“You are?”

“Oh, forgive me, where are my manners? Dr Morningstar at your service. You were in quite the accident, little lady.” 

“What happened?”

“From what we were told it was quite the fatal car crash. I’m not sure how it happened, but it seems like Heaven willed it to occur.”

He grit his teeth when he mentioned the glorious upstairs. Odd.

He went back to smiling at me and I couldn’t tell if it was the lighting, but his eyes appeared red. “The most important thing is we get you better. I’m sure your husband is worried about you.”

“Oh, I’m not married.”

“I see.”

His gaze dropped to my hand and I became uncomfortable with how long it lingered there. “Well, I’d better let you rest. I’ll be back later to check up on you.”

He bowed and exited the room, closing the door behind him. What is with today?

Over the next few weeks Dr Morningstar helped me recover. My friends came and visited a couple of times which was nice. I was told I could go home at any time soon. It was late one night when Dr Morningstar came into my room. “Alrighty then Y/n, I have your discharge papers right here.”

He handed me a stack of paperwork. “I just need you to sign the bottom.”

“Of course.”

I did as he said when suddenly the lights started to flicker. The room slightly shook as Dr Morningstar suddenly summoned a cane with an apple on top. “W-what’s going on?”

“You my dear, just signed your soul to me.”

“W-what?!”

“I didn’t want to trick you like this I promise, but it needed to be done. Adam was getting too close to you.”

How could he know about Adam? 

“The douchebag spilled everything to me, trying to make me jealous I guess. But sad to say, you’re now mine.”

He walked closer and I attempted to run but was met with a whack to the head. “Sweet dreams, darling.”

My eyes couldn’t quite process the six wings and horns that my doctor gained as they closed.

Everything faded to black.

[dunmeshistash]

Literally right after I saw one of ur Milsiril posts today I saw another person doing a Mithrun analysis with a huge focus on Milsiril only helping him bc of ulterior motives and it makes me sad :( She’s such a soft mum that would teach her children anything. If anything she’s less overbearing than my Chinese mother

What are the arguments? I don't really get what she gets from helping Mithrun. I guess the thing she would be able to get is making him fight the demon.

But like, she's no longer a canary and there isn't really much to hint that's what she wants. This is her part in Kabru's version

My boy really fairy tale-fied his backstory, it just ends with "And from that point onward Mithrun lived only to slay demons. He ate even though he had no desire to eat. He lived on, even though he had no desire to live."

Which is objectively false, in this version it really seems like she lets him live cause he can still be used, but he can't.

This doesn't really look like a killing machine that can be used to fight demons does it. Kabru as usual oversimplified what happened cause as he said "the world doesn't need to know personal things like that"

Again with his timeline vs Kabru's

Utaya started and ended while he was still recovering, 20 years from being saved to being appointed as a captain again. I know elves see time differently but even if we do the divided by 5 that's still the equivalent of 4 years of his life if he was a tallman. I don't think that's a negligible amount of time and honestly I'm happy Ryoko Kui considered that recovery from something so traumatic isn't fast or easy.

I said Milsiril only started to help with his rehabilitation after she retired because of this bit. "Mithrun. I saw a demon in Utaya" the situation from arrival to destruction was at most one year, I can't imagine she was able to leave in the middle of it just to visit Mithrun?

So I always assumed she did it after retiring (perhaps one of the first things she did since she's still in canary uniform)

Even if she left in the middle the earliest this could have happened is 498 so at most from his 20 years of rehabilitation Milsiril was with him for 2. At the most.

To me her smile here is cause she's seeing a way to motivate him to eat

Doesn't really look like someone sinister or with ulterior motives to me, she has her eyebrows slighty furrowed and a forced tight smile. To me it looks like she's worried. The other point is that right before this scene this is what she says

Here she has a soft smile as she remembers that he was someone similar to her. I think she didn't kill him because she saw herself in him, and I think she tried to help him for a similar reason. "It was such a warped, convoluted place built from inferiority jealousy lies and anger" "We might have hit it off pretty well"

She isn't saying that to judge him she's saying that and acknowledging he was just like her. I don't think the fact she relates to him would have been set up right before she tries to motivate him to eat to show "ulterior motives".

If anything I think the ulterior motive she has is that she sees herself in him, and wants to help him to help herself. Which as 'ulterior motives' go I think it's fine.

Everytime I talk about Milsiril I end up with a huge text lmao, I think I might be repeating myself too but I wish I understood the arguments for a sinister Milsiril using Mithrun. I don't really see anything in the extras that could indicate that. And the biggest "proof" is a intentionally abridged version of Mithrun's backstory told by Kabru that ignores all of his interpersonal relationships in favor of a easy to understand cautionary tale.

Oh yeah, and Mithrun's bitchy past self that didn't trust or like anyone saying it,

[zillatastic]

rapper! ony x singer! reader

summary: good girl gone bad ; you just can’t get enough of rapper ! ony who has made a name for himself for participating in a plethora of (usually) one-sided rap beefs, being a creative lyricist/producer, & being such a bad influence to your heart.

(I suck at summarizing ಥ_ಥ̥)

this post contains: head-cannons, cursing, n-word usage, smidge of smut, spelling errors, lowercase grammar, semi-toxic ! ony or wtv, crybaby ! reader, vague description of reader’s body, lowk clickbaited summary, not proofread.

▬▬ rapper! ony who “accidentally” leaks a snippet of his new song with your moans as the intro melody.

much to your horror the audio blows up on tiktok and now every time you open the app, that accursed audio plays.

the worst thing about it is that every time you bring up the audio to ony and question how it even got leaked in the first place, you’re met with a..

“mmcht, ma, for the last time I don’t know how it got leaked. connie’s dumb ass must have did something stupid and posted the wrong shit.”

or a..

“fatbutt, I don’t know why you complaining. you sound sexy as fuck and the fans wanna hear more of the track once i release it. you don’t wanna disappoint our fans, right ma?”

“n-no, I don’t wanna disappoint them but I just don’t feel comfortable with it. maybe you can call connie one more time and try to get it taken care of ?”

“ight.”

it never gets taken care of, in fact three weeks later ony drops the song with eren as featured artist which doubles the song’s popularity and makes it on the billboard hot 100.

“whose pussy is this, ma ? ~ mhm tell me ?” ony asks while delivering slow harsh strokes into your trembling body. your hair wrapped tightly in his hands as it helps aid his assault into your weeping cunt while his free hand is gripping your midsection equally as tight.

“f-fucknmhm, it’s yours pa,” ony’s abusive thrusts to your pussy force your words to ball up in the back of your throat as you try to concentrate on listening to his commands and hold the phone recording the intimate moment.

watching the phone slowly start to slip through your half- boneless hands, it urged him to re-wrap your hair (tightly) into his hands and harshly lift your body onto his chest while continuing his now- upward thrusts into your cunt. the new angle allowed a deeper reach into your cervix as ony heartlessly knocked into it. “say it louder for the camera baby. whose owns this pussy ?”

“ony does, ony owns my pussy. fuck~ please pa I’m so close.”

“good girl, ma. you so pretty when you cry. now cum for me.” ony commands as he watches your body tremble in pure overstimulation and pleasure. biting his lip as he gently wipes the tears from out the corner your eyes and leans down to kiss your cheek.

▬▬ rapper ! ony who can sense when someone is making his girl laugh.

“ony what is your opinion on the Kendrick vs Drake beef?” a reporter asked while shoving her mic into his face.

ony who was tired of being asked this question sighed and tried his best to formulate a sentence that would not offend either rapper.

“well you know I be-” he stops mid sentence to turn around before hearing the soft chuckle of his girlfriend from across the garden of the regal event.

the reporter who was standing there unanswered lifted a brow and tried to gain ony’s attention back on the question for it’s live broadcasted audience.

“umm, ony ?” the reporter asked until she heard a feminine chuckle from the other side of her. the reporter and the cameraman turned swiftly to what caught ony’s eye to see you laughing hysterically at something thee Brent Faiyaz said.

“I’ll be back.” ony mumbled.

(damn.. someone stole my bitch.)

▬▬ rapper ! ony who promotes your music to his hardcore fan base.

▬▬ rapper ! ony who cannot keep his hands off your body.

he is stuck to you like white on rice.

you physically cannot escape this man because his strong arms are always securely wrapped around your waist, neck or arm.

ony isn’t a controlling person, but he is very clingy. he likes to feel the presence of his girl around him and having a body part of his connect to yours-

It sedates him.

cheesy? I know.. but he’s your man, so you’ll deal with it.

▬▬ rapper ! ony whose mean mug is nasty.

he does not play when it comes to people besides him being handsy with you.

ony’s sideeye has become a stan twitter icon.

in the earlier stages of your blooming relationship ony did not want to come off as too overbearing (he is) and let a lot of of his boundaries be overstepped. he never wanted to cause a big scene, so he always used his face to project his emotions instead of his words and fist.

a particular event where you had been pulled to the side to be interviewed had blown up all over social media because of ony deviously standing in the back- mugging the fuck out of the reporter whose hands were on the small of your back.

retweets of the incident had you delighted while ony was rather annoyed.

▬▬ rapper ! ony who dedicates an entire album to you.

▬▬ rapper ! ony who corrects your behavior.

ony has eyes all over. never forget that.

you two had gotten into an argument the day before over something small. at this point you had already forgotten what you two were arguing about, but the impact of the altercation was still there.

you despised when ony bested you in an argument and in retaliation you decided to attend a not-so little house party that ony advised you not to attend.

so what did you do?

you went to the party.

that night you’d tell ony that it was all sasha’s fault, but this was a conscious choice made by yourself.

that night you were spent bent over ony’s leg being spanked till tears then finger fucked.

▬▬ rapper ! ony who can’t stop talking about you during interviews.

▬▬ rapper ! ony who verbally dragged another artist who decided it would be cute to throw shade at your new single.

“ony, delete the tweet.” with your hands on your hips you let out a deep sigh. you two have been bickering back and forth all evening about the tweet-simply because you didn’t care what someone with barely 500k streams had to say.

“no, she’s gonna learn to pick her battles wisely today, ma.”

“oh my fucking god onyankopon put the phone down.”

(end of rapper! ony x singer! reader headcannons pt. 1)

author note: thank you so much for reading and noting. I have not written in years (2019-22) and I wanted to jump back into something new. usually I would’ve written a 10k fanfic on naruto but I’ve been tuning into a lot of aot/jjk content and I’ve decided this is my new era of writing. I cannot wait to find my own comfort and flow with this new fandom !!

[bellawoso]

I Know Places

Ona Batlle x fem!reader

You and Ona had always been rivals, whether it was national rivals, or club rivals, you always seemed to end up on opposing sides in women’s rival teams.

England vs Spain. Barcelona vs Lyon. And now Manchester United vs Manchester City. With both you and the Spaniard playing for Manchester teams in the WSL, it allowed for you two to see more of each other and eventually extended your rival status to being friends ever since a bad tackle from the brunette, and a follow on instagram from her later that night.

After some casual chatting and the occasional comment on each other’s instagram posts, the defender soon asked you on a date, you were nervous to say the least, but the date went well and after a few more you were quick to start dating.

Being together for over a year now, and being able to live with each other, your relationship was going well. Escaping the prying eyes of fans and photographers was hard, but you and Ona managed. Together.

Until at the end of the season, over dinner Ona told you about Barcelona’s offer for her, it was no surprise the team wanted her back, Ona was well known for her amazing defending in the WSL, so obviously Barça had their eyes on her.

Although you were happy for her, it still hurt, knowing that there would be a sea keeping you two apart, but the both of you were sure that you could do it.

After she left for Spain, you watched every single one of her matches, and she did the same for you. Even after moving teams, she would still never say the dreaded words of ‘Manchester being blue’, which never failed to make you laugh.

Until a few months later, you recieved a call from your manager wanting to discuss potential transfers, you brushed him off quickly saying how you wanted to stay at Manchester City, until you received an email later that night, with a list of all club offers.

One caught your eye, the club offering you the most money was ironic. Real Madrid.

Barcelona’s biggest rival, Camp Nou selling out every time a Barcelona vs Real Madrid match was scheduled.

You immediately called your manager, telling him to accept Real Madrid’s offer, it was a great team, and you had met a few of their players before.

After speaking to your manager, you wondered how exactly you were going to tell Ona about your transfer in the January window, and settled on a simple phone call to break the news to her.

———

Ona was currently at a team bonding night, which were now currently just an excuse to crash at Alexia’s, watch movies and eat all night.

However, recently the brunette had been missing you more than usual, she longed to hold you tight again, and missed the privilege of living with you instead of in a different country.

So when her phone rang, she couldn’t resist waiting until getting home to answer it.

Unbeknown to you, the team already knew about your two’s relationship, after Patri catching Ona watching edits of you, but Ona cut of her teasing by saying ‘She has a right to’, which gave away the fact that you were dating.

“Hola amor” Ona greeted you.

“Hola baby, I have something I need to tell you” you said, your voice sounding serious made Ona sit up straight in her seat, catching the attention of her teammates, who mouthed ‘Que?’ (what?) at her in confusion.

“What’s wrong amor, is everything okay?” Ona asked, worried about your clear state of nervousness.

“No, no nothings wrong Oni, I just thought I would tell you that I’m moving clubs.”

“That’s great, where to amor?” Ona was excited now, the thought of you moving to Barcelona to be with her, like before except this time on the same side for once.

Her teammates had caught on now, excited at the prospect of you joining the team, you were a great central midfielder, Ona offer insisted on watching your games at movie nights if they were live, so many of her teammates were aware of how useful you would be on the team.

“Uh, that’s the thing, promise you wont be mad?”

“Why would I be mad amor? I would never mind wherever you go.” Ona and her teammates were confused now, and Ona was trying to think of the possible clubs you would go to that she would be mad at, however she didn’t realise she was kidding the most obvious one.

Lucy mouthed ‘Lyon’ at her from across the sofa, and most of the girls nodded in agreement.

“Real Madrid.”

“Que?! Real Madrid! Joder!” (What?! Real Madrid! Fuck!)

This caused an outburst amongst her teammates, who were also in just as much shock as Ona about your news.

You let out a laugh at your girlfriend’s antics “Guess we’re rivals again babe”

Your girlfriend only scoffed in response, and you could just imagine the pout on her face as her teammates chatted around her.

“Guess what?” You asked once again.

“Do I really want to know? Is it better news than what I’ve just heard cariño?”

“The first match I play is against you at Camp Nou!” You said excitedly.

Ona only groaned in response.

“I can’t wait to put a few goals past you as well” you said cheekily, as you heard Ona chuckle.

“You wish amor, at least being with me will soothe the sting of your loss against us”

“I’m sure being with you will just be a bonus when we win babe” you replied whilst yawning.

“Are you tired? Go to sleep amor.” Ona said.

“Mhm, I will speak to you in the morning?”

“Sí, buenes noches cariño.”

“Night Oni” you said before hanging up the call.

———

Your signing to Real Madrid was successful, although you were sad to leave your City teammates behind, you were looking forward to playing against your girlfriend again.

As much as your girlfriend hated any colour on you apart from red and blue, she had to admit that the white and gold looked good on you, Alexia had given her a firm warning to not let your relationship affect the game, but Ona didn’t need to hear it. There was no way she was letting you win.

———

The game was intense and Barcelona were already 2 goals up thanks to Aitana and Caro, you came on in the 60th minute, returning from a minor muscle injury, ready to make a difference.

The first goal for Real Madrid came from you after only a few minutes on the pitch. Barcelona’s defence were playing high, leaving you able to get past Ona and Ingrid, and then shoot from just outside the box into the top left corner of the net.

Whilst celebrating with your teammates, you caught eyes of your girlfriend, sending her a subtle wink and a smirk, and she returned with a scoff and a shake of her head.

She could not let you past her again.

In the 80th minute, Olga passed the ball to you allowing you to begin running up the wing, however as you were about to send a cross into the box, your legs were swept from under you, your head hitting the ground leaving a ringing in your ears.

Your ankle ached, and the harsh shrill of the whistle only worsened your growing headache.

“Come on amor, get up for me por favor.” You rolled onto your back to reveal Ona stood above you, worry evident all over her face, until in contorted to one of guilt for hurting you.

However at seeing your girlfriend you forgot all about the foul she just committed on you, and instead sent her a toothy grin, which she chuckled at, before helping you up and whispering a quick apology into your ear.

Ona accepted her yellow-card graciously, and you were awarded with a free kick, which you stepped up to take.

The free kick went just where you wanted it, and immediately found the head of Caicedo, to which she slotted it into the bottom corner, running straight to you to celebrate.

With Barcelona’s recent winnings, the evened out score was unexpected, and it was obvious that many Barça players were getting annoyed, resulting in more dirtier challenges, mainly directed at you.

The game went on into extra time, the referee choosing to give 13 minutes, however it didn’t take long for you to help your team find the back of Barcelona’s net once again, nutmegging your fellow English teammate Lucy, and passing it to Raso, who was able to tap the ball into the goal to put Real Madrid in the lead.

After 4 more minutes of defending from your team, the final whistle blew.

3-2 to Real Madrid, in a sold out Camp Nou stadium.

The win was unexpected after the long list of defeats Madrid has had from Barça, as your teammates went to celebrate with fans, you instead sprinted to your girlfriend who was stood with a defeated look on her face whilst talking to Aitana, Lucy and Keira.

As much as you wanted to hug and pepper your girlfriend in kisses, the fans and cameras would catch it, so instead you settled on shaking her hand and politely asking for a jersey swap with her.

When you successfully retrieved your girlfriend’s jersey, you told her and the others ‘good game’ and told Ona you would meet her at her car, before running off to celebrate with fans.

After signing what seemed like the hundredth jersey, and taking the thousandth picture, you retreated back to the locker room, and got a quick shower before getting dressed.

Your teammates asked you to go to a bar in Barcelona with the Barça team, it was sweet how they all still wanted to celebrate with each other no matter the outcome of the game.

———

You got ready at Ona’s house after she drove the two of you there with a hand on your thigh the entire journey home.

After the two of you were ready, and after you had to push your girlfriend off you for the 8th time she tried to keep you home by attempting to persuade you with repeatedly shoving her tongue down your throat, you eventually got to the bar, only an hour late.

The adrenaline still coursing through your veins combined with the shots and drinks you had drank with your teammates, supplied you with the confidence to saunter over to your girlfriend, and sit down in her lap.

Most of the Barça team had chosen to lay of the drinks, they hadn’t won and so didn’t really feel like celebrating too heavily.

This meant that your sober girlfriend quickly noticed your tipsy state and laughed as you sent her a toothy grin, finding her lap very comfortable.

However, as your sweet pecks on her cheeks turned to you trying to now shove your tongue down her throat, the Spaniard was fast to push you back, leaving you pouting whilst waiting for her reason.

“Amor, people could see, remember?”

You replied with a huff and a simple “I don’t care!” And the continued your assault on her neck, to which she pulled you off her lap completely, leaving you whining at the loss of contact.

“Amor, not here!” Ona scolded playfully.

“I know places baby, no one would see!”

Ona only shook her head at your statement, she was not going to go any further than kissing whilst you weren’t 100% sober.

“We should probably get back, I want you to spend your last day tomorrow with me instead of hungover in bed amor”

As drunk as you were, you registered Ona’s words and agreed with her, so you let the brunette defender lead you to her car, as she took you back to hers.

———

You did not remember much from last night, your splitting headache and sore limbs only an indication of how much you had to drink last night before Ona took you home.

You reached for your phone, and were shocked to see thousands of notifications from instagram.

Opening the app, you only laughed in response to what you saw, the candid photo someone had taken was beautiful and captured the love both you and Ona felt for each other.

———

barcafanupdates

y/n yl/n and ona batlle spotted at bar in barcelona last night.

liked by user1, user2 and 68,783 others.

comments:

user1: they’re so cute together

user2: rivals?! I want this now!

user3: stop this is so funny- the fact they’ve only ever been on rival teams.

———

yourusername

although it was nice hidden, i guess it’s now time for the world to know your mine

tagged: onabatlle

comments:

onabatlle: amor, te amo ❤️

mapileon: I guess I can tolerate a *gag* Madrid player for Ona.

-> ingridengen: Mapi! Be nice.

user4: and they were rivals…

user5: them casually making out in a bar after Madrid defeated Barça is my Roman Empire 😭

———

[written-in-flowers]

Her Soldier: Demon!San x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Incubi!San x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, smut, angst MINOR DNI

Word Count: 14k

Summary: Injured during a mission to protect Lucifer's child, San begins to doubt his dreams of having his own someday. It's only your comfort that convinces him it's not all pointless.

Tags: polyamorous relationship (m/m/m/f) bisexual!demonline, graphic depictions of violence, serious injuries, scenes of child birth/child labor, blood, blood and violence, angels vs demons, religious imagery, underage storylines, mentions/allusions to underage violence, implied child neglect/abuse, crime, mentions of childbirth death and complications, fluffy vanilla sex this time, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, breeding kink, breeding.

Pretty Lady Masterlist

Previously on Pretty Lady

Next >>

***

He’d never seen anything like it before. The young woman laid on the stone table in the torch lit room, sweat gleaming on her body and blood oozing from her legs. Dark hairs sticking to her forehead, her face squeezed tight as she made attempts to push the child from her. Women wearing black cloaks stood around her, dabbing cold cloths on her forehead and encouraging her to breathe between pushes. One sat at the edge between her legs, gloves on her knobbly hands as she urged the woman to keep going. Around the room, monks in crimson cloaks held black candles. Her cries drowned out their low chanting, an incantation to welcome the new babe into the world. San couldn’t keep his eyes off the mother. She looked so young. She couldn’t be any older than you, and here she was harboring the greatest responsibility a servant of Lucifer can bear. 

His seed. 

He’d heard people around her say how lucky she is to be pregnant with Lucifer’s child; it is a high honor to carry the King’s child. They tell her that she will be the mother of a powerful lord, who will take over the world and rule as a living god. He heard one midwife talk of Lucifer’s other children, and how successful they’d become. Very few women have had the privilege to carry the new Antichrist. She should be thankful for this child’s birth is a slight upon The Almighty. San knew he’d be more worried about not dying during the birth than the honor of being chosen.

“Your first birthing ceremony, son?”

The soldier beside him leaned over and whispered, not catching anyone’s attention. San almost didn’t hear him. He saw more blood staining the mother’s white dress. San shed more blood than either of his brothers, but this was different. 

“Yes, sir.”

Hector chortled. His former commander stood in bronze armor that popped against his green tinged skin. His horns, white and ribbed, curved from the top of his forehead and his wings remained close to his back. He stood several inches taller than San, and much wider too. 

“Is it always this…bloody?” he asked, watching the midwife reach forward.

“Yes, sometimes bloodier depending on the woman,” he replied. “It is an honor to be here, Choi. Not just anyone is chosen to protect The King’s offspring.”

“I know.”

The messenger came to the Black Keep with a royal summons from His Majesty to San. San thought it might be to perform a demonstration in the frozen palace in the ninth circle, since he’d done it before, but he’d been wrong. Lucifer had impregnated another follower, who was due any day. They’d chosen him and others to protect the mother and child. His brothers begged him not to go.

“You could die, San. You could actually die if an angel gets their sword in you.”

“Please, decline. You can tell him that while you are honored, you cannot accept. San, you’d be going to the living world and you’d be facing holy magic. That can actually kill us. Do you hear me? A holy blade can and will kill you.”

“Sannie, don’t go.”

Your plea had been the softest of them. Even if you didn’t fully understand the gravity of the situation, you didn’t like the sound of it. The look of concern in your eyes haunted him as he stepped through the portal into the living world. He found himself memorizing your kiss when they arrived at the church. Standing in the circular room, watching a young woman give her life for her master, you kept rushing to his mind. It was possible that this birth would be successful and he'd go home to you. But, the likelihood of a fight was also possible. Every soldier faces the risk when they head into battle. San knows once he picks up his sword, he agrees to the fight. There’d been a time in his life where he’d join without hesitation, but that changed when you arrived. 

The image of you sitting across from him, laughing at one of his jokes and engaging in conversation, brought comfort to him. In a world of blood and pain, you’d become a beacon of warmth; the candle in the window or the light in his valley of darkness. When he first looked at you upclose, seeing you in the soft firelight, he felt you slip through the chinks in his armor. He still thinks about the vision of you on the soft sheets, soundlessly sleeping next to him the morning after. He’d wanted to stay holding you a bit longer. San wanted to know the beautiful “human” who’d wandered into his life so unexpectedly. He’s thankful you’d decided to stay so he can keep digging for more. 

“Father,” the midwife turned to the coven leader, “There’s something wrong.”

“What’s wrong?!” the mother panicked hearing this, eyes wide with fear as she looked between them. Neither priest or midwife answered her, but instead quietly spoke to one another. “What is going on?! What’s wrong with my baby?!”

San’s blood ran cold. He watched the pair continue talking before the priest went to retrieve a black bottle from a nearby altar. He bid the mother to drink it, telling her it’ll save her child. San saw him bring the bottle to her lips, and she gulped it greedily. Thin crimson trails leaked from the sides of her mouth, not going to waste as she wiped them. Suddenly, she screamed. A terrible, painful scream ripped through her chest and out into the world. Bony fingers gripped the sheets underneath her, and her toes tightly curled inwards. The midwives encouraged her to keep pushing, even as her screams turned into guttural snarls. San’s eyes widened as that final push ended in high pitched squeals drowning her out. The coven members awed and praised her as the head midwife pulled the squalling babe from her. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Hector asked, wiping his eyes. “I always cry at these things.”

“Yes. It’s wonderful,” San said in a monotone voice.

The midwife wiped the blood and matter from the baby, and San finally caught a look at it. Skin the color of snow, he saw small hands and feet kicking around before being swaddled in a blanket. The mother beamed happily, laughing as she held her baby to her naked chest.

“She’s beautiful, Francesca,” smiled the midwife. “You’ve done well, my child.”

“What’s her name, Sister?” asked one of the attendants.

“Gisella,” the mother sniffled, unable to stop her happy tears. “Her name is Gisella.”

Francesca kissed her daughter’s forehead, not bothered by her small claws or dark red eyes. San knew once the child grew, the human features would start appearing. He wondered if any child you two had would be the same. His heart fluttered imagining you in her position, holding his child and crying tears of joy. It was unlikely you’d want children or a family, since you never showed interest in having them, but he knew you at least liked babies. You smiled whenever you saw one in the street, and some friends of yours had them. The dream of you carrying his children, being a mother to them would be a dream.

“Choi,” Hector called to him from the birthing bed, “Come see her.”

In timid steps, San approached them. The stench of blood grew thicker, but the sight of the newest Antichrist took his attention away. The baby had His Majesty’s sharp nose and round eyes, but her mother’s lips and chin.

“Congratulations,” San said kindly.

“Thank you,” she smiled, immediately looking back at her baby.

“His Majesty must be informed at once,” the priest said.

“I’ll have one of my men go inform him…” Hector said, but San tuned him out right away.

An unnatural breeze blew in from the nearby tunnel entrance. His entire body moved into action. In an instant, a figure in bright gold armor appeared from thin air, raising their longsword to slash at San. He blocked it with his own sword, then swiped at them. The angel, with their large feather wings, lifted into the air and more of them appeared. Then, the battle began. San and Hector stood by the table while their fellows fought off those at the entrances. The angel who’d attacked San came at him again, but a swing of his sword to the midriff and then to the back of their wings wounded the celestial being. San then blocked another angel’s sword, kicking them right in the chest and stabbing them in the gut. All the adrenaline he’d held back came at him full force. It fueled his fast, precise movements, causing his heart to pound in his ears and made him hyper aware of his surroundings. 

“Beat them back!” ordered Hector, who blocked an angel’s sword. “Protect the babe!”

He could not fail. If the angels managed to get their hands on the baby, they’d never see her again. One angel flew and landed on top of the table, reaching for Gisella, but a slice at the back of their ankles crippled them. San then stabbed them right in the neck, blood spurting from the wound and the angel clutched their neck as they fell. He had no time to observe.

“Can you stand?” he asked Francesca, who shook her head. 

“Take her,” the young woman cried, handing Gisella to him. “Please, take her.”

“Take the baby and get out, Choi,” Hector ordered.

He gently took the baby from Francesca, and held it close to him. Due to all the noise and commotion stimulating her senses, little Gisella’s shrieks nearly blew out his ears. San, unable to use one arm, swung his sword at any enemy he came across through the tunnels. The portal back home was on the other side of the church, underneath the Vatican streets. Urgency pushed him forward, and panic had him holding the child close to his chest. He moved through the caverns until he reached a large room where seven demonic statues stood facing the center. Yet, right as he reached the very threshold, one of the angels grabbed him by the metal arm guard and spun him away. San lost his grip on Gisella, who floated in the air before being caught by an angel. 

“No!” he screamed, scrambling to stand and rush at the man holding Lucifer’s child, but was then countered by another soldier. 

The burning heat of a holy blade seared his skin, sinking further into his body. All the air in his went out in a single gasp. His muscles constricted, but he maintained his own strength. As the pain took over, San reached for the dagger on his belt. The handle carved with serpents slithering towards the rose pummel, San sunk his blade into the angel’s exposed neck. Blood poured out from the angel’s mouth and artery, while more bled out from San’s side. The angel fell first, laying flat on their wings as they struggled to stay alive. Demon blades held the same power as holy ones. Falling to the ground, San took deep breaths on the stone ground. Each one burned, and he felt them start to choke him. He grabbed at the wound between his ribs. His vision started to blur and blacken, but he blinked it away. Images suddenly flashed before his eyes. 

Hongjoong smirking and winking as he stole a grape from San’s bowl. 

Seonghwa smiling widely, a book in his lap and the sun beaming behind him. 

The three of them sitting in the lounge, chattering and laughing together. 

And you. Wonderful you. Your eyes are bright with happiness as flowers grow all around you. Face down on the floor, the stone scratching his cheeks and arms, he held onto images of the four of you. The sounds of his enemies fleeing with the squealing baby became muddled and inaudible to him. He thought of your laugh, sweet and cheerful. He’d promised to come home. More pain shot through him as the magic took over, sapping more life from him. 

“Choi!” he heard a voice say from nearby. 

Before, he would’ve been glad to be dying for his king. He’d feel honored to die fighting. Not anymore. Now, he wanted to live. San only groaned, rolling onto his back. He struggled for a breath, clutching onto each one as it may be his last. He told Seonghwa he’d be back in no time. It’d been almost a month. Hands grabbed at him, and he left the ground. 

He told Hongjoong not to worry; that he’d been in tons of battles before.

He told you he’d be fine. He said he’d be home before you knew it.

Promises he’s unable to keep. San clung on to every breath, feeling the pain it brought and the hollowness of his chest. The sudden nothingness of the portal sucked more precious life from him. He heard voices all around him. Bright lights burned his eyes. Where were you? He wanted to see you. He wanted to see his brothers. Several hands laid him on a firm surface, and small wheels could be heard underneath him.

“You’re going to be alright, son,” he heard Hector’s voice. “You’re going to be alright.”

His Darling, who brought so much comfort to him. He’d never known real comfort until he ended up in Hell. The couple he’d been given to gave him the bare minimum. The witch, Hyeon, and her servant, Heechul, took him in as a baby and never told him about his true identity. He’d only learned what a family was when his brothers took him into their home.

Darkness came over him the moment the cart stopped. He forced himself to stay awake, despite the blood filling his lungs to choke him. San wanted to see you. He needed to see you one last time. 

“YN…”

****

“Wake up, you stupid boy!”

The world came to him in a blur. He blinked back the rays of sun peeking in between the cracks in the curtains. Outside his doorway, he heard the other tenants starting to rise from their corners of the shared room. The stench of sweat, illness and filth sunk right into his nose at the first breath; he coughed it out as he did every morning.  

“I said ‘get up’!” 

A swift kick to his ribs took the breath from his chest. San curled inwards on the thin mattress, groaning as the pain subsided into a dull ache. Kicks to the stomach hurt more without any fat protecting it. Immediately, the boy stood up from his bed on heavy legs. Ahead of him, a skinny woman with messy black hair in a bun walked away from him to a rickety dresser. He watched her start slipping into a ragged chemise and stockings. In a corner of their small area, a man in rags sat passed out against the wall. The dark bottle beside him told San he'd drunk too much gin again. He recalled Hyeon and Heechul’s argument last night, and the latter likely drowned his sorrows in the drink. The yellowish puddle around him made San’s stomach churn.

“Daniel!” Hyeon screeched from her cot, using his English name.

“I’m up.”

He picked up the gin bottle from Heechul, and finished it off. The pure liquor stung his throat, but relieved his thirst and woke him up right away. All around him, he heard people starting to rise from their beds to begin their day. He saw Mrs. Cimorelli pulling on the top layer of her dress. His eyes scanned over her slim figure, taking in her soft curls and olive skin. A shudder went through him when he recalled a few nights previous, when he’d offered her his last bit of coin for a suck. His age, fifteen, didn’t matter to a whore like her. San snapped back into reality when a sharp hand hit the back of his head. This caused Mrs. Cimorelli to turn her head. It took her a moment, but she smirked when she realized he’d been watching her.

“Filthy lout,” Hyeon scoffed, pulling on her worn out boots. “You’re going to catch a pox one day, boy. You mark my words.”

“Ah, shut up, you ol’ cow,” he snapped back, rubbing where she’d hit him.

“You're lucky I got work, or you'll get more than a clout on the ear. You get yourself right and get going. The overseer will deduct your wages if you’re late.”

San glared at her. He'd grown used to it since arriving in New York. Whenever she started barking about work, he thought of telling Hyeon they’d do better starving back home than starving in a new country. Though, she’d quickly retort with, “There aren’t any jobs at home.” He’d then tell her fortune tellers and mediums did just as well in Korea as they did in New York.

When Hyeon turned her back, San quickly snatched the lump of bread she had hidden under her blanket. Taking a bite of the hard lump, he glanced back at Mrs. Cimorelli as he passed her. Her small wink and smile warmed his blood. If he made enough, he’d give her another go if he caught her on the street that night. San walked past the other tenants in the small apartment space, nodding to those he knew and turning from those he didn’t and walked outside. In the stairwell, he heard the hustle of the morning crowds. He heard and smelled everything around him. He heard babies crying behind closed doors; he caught Mr. And Mrs. Wang arguing about Mr. Wang’s drinking again; he saw Daisy, Irene, and Sarah walking up the stairs from their night on the streets.

“Morning, Handsome,” Daisy, straight black hair in a messy braid and dress slightly askew, smiled at him. “We missed you last night.”

“Sorry ladies, I had places to be,” he said apologetically as he walked down past them.

“Will you be out tonight?” asked Irene, a red blotch starting to bruise on her peachy skin. “You know I always save space for you.”

“If the boss lets me,” he winked, walking down the steps to the next floor.

The best thing about New York? The girls. Back home, girls shared the conservative, modest views of their parents. The women in the brothels looked tempting, but they didn’t service teens. The ladies he’d met in America did him as long as he had enough money.

Coming out into the street, San took in the sights and smells of New York’s Chinatown. It wasn’t strictly speaking only Chinese people. A melting pot of different ethnicities and races lived in the small community, working and surviving off meager wages. Those with a bit more sand did jobs for the gangs around the city. When he first arrived, San got a job at the textile factory working the looms. It was a dangerous job for a skinny boy who barely spoke English, but it was better than the street. Of course, any money he made went directly to Hyeon, who claimed to spend it on ‘keeping them above ground’. Heechul worked in the fish market, coming home stinking of fish guts and stagnant water every day, while Hyeon was a seamstress who told fortunes on the side. It was when he beat down two thugs trying to rob him that he caught the attention of crime boss Lee “Benny” Siwon. Siwon led the gang known as the Black Lotus, a gang known for smuggling, theft, and drugs. He offered San a place in his gang.

San had been working for him ever since.

Making a right turn down an alley, he passed through a market street where vendors peddled their wares. His stomach growled seeing the fruits and vegetables being left out. He bypassed a fruit vendor, and with a deft hand, took up the topmost apple in the pile. The vendor never noticed. Nobody noticed. He waited until he’d gotten a good distance before he sunk his teeth into it. The sweet juice filling his mouth pushed back the constant seed of hunger. San could never take food home, otherwise Hyeon split it and gave him the small pieces. One might think a new country with better opportunities would make the old witch turn over a new leaf. It’d done nothing.

San finally reached a small restaurant nestled between a butcher’s shop and a chemist. The black lotus sign hanging above the door told people who ran these streets. He walked in with a small smile, seeing people already at tables and servers taking orders. The boys sitting at a nearby table took notice of him first, all of them smiling and greeting him. He shook hands, and took the shot of gin that they offered. As the boys went back to talking about their various runs, San lit a cigarette and took his first puff of the day. Any minute now, Siwon will send one of his thugs to give them various jobs for the day. Everything from passing on messages, picking up or dropping off products to theft and beating people up could be assigned to any of them. San hoped he’d be sent on one of the more important jobs for once. Things like stealing from rival gangs, picking up money from extorted business owners, or roughing up people who owed money paid much more. Siwon promised he’d give him a chance one day, but ‘one day’ is too far away.

“Hey boys,” a tall man with square shoulders and an oval face approached them. In his tailored pin-strip suit, he looked like any ordinary gentleman.

“Shoiming!” the boys cheered, clasping hands with the older man.

“I got your jobs right here,” he said, holding up a few papers. "You know your streets. You know your marks,” he began passing items to certain boys, “Get the job done fast, you get paid even faster.”

Shoiming handed everyone a slip, and San looked at his. From the scrawled handwriting, he saw mostly pick ups and drop offs. He sucked his teeth. Pennies again. He supposed low wages were better than none. He stood up from the table, holding his cigarette in the corner of his mouth, as he tucked the paper into his pocket. It was then that Shoiming stopped him by the shoulder. For a split second, San thought he’d get a scolding for his reaction, but the large man didn’t seem angry.

“Do your work quickly,” he said, “Siwon has a big job for you tonight.”

“Really?” San’s eyes lit up. “What is it? Smuggling? Roughing up?”

“Something like that,” he nodded. “Go on, now.”

San walked with a pep in his step the rest of the day. While Hyeon thought he was at the factory, he was really jumping from place to place. He handed off packages and messages that couldn’t be sent through official channels. He bought and sold the items given to him by various vendors. San even took time to go into the fancy part of town where he picked pockets. He’d gotten away with a decent loot: a gold pocket watch, a few coins, three rings he lifted from a shop, and a snuff box he stole from a fancy lady. Siwon will be so impressed, he’ll take him on the big jobs. By nightfall, San felt nervous and excited. He came back to the restaurant with his loot and messages.

“Good haul,” nodded Shioming. He took the pocket watch, two rings and the snuff box. “Siwon’s not here. He told me to tell you to meet him at Flannery’s Hall. It’s on King’s street, not too far from here.”

“What’s that? Some kind of club?”

“Yes, now hit the bricks. Don’t be late.”

He left right away, going down all the alleys and side streets until he reached King’s street. The nightlife started buzzing to life around him. New York never slept, he’d come to learn during his time there. Back home, everything grew quiet once the work day ended. That wasn’t the case in this new country. Life kept going even as the moon reached high into the sky. He liked that. He never grew bored or anxious in the hustle of the city. Walking down a row of clubs and bars, San stopped outside the one with the sign ‘Flannery’s Hall’ written on it. He only stopped because his stomach twisted tightly. A pair of women’s boots hung on the newel post leading down into the building’s basement. San tried not thinking anything of it as he walked through the doors.

Once inside, a new world unfolded in front of him. In the small bar, he saw men sitting and drinking at tables with pretty girls. Except, most of the ‘pretty girls’ weren’t girls at all. They were boys in girls’ clothes and wigs who’d powdered their faces. In various stages of dress, they moved about the room to their marks while one “girl” sang up on a stage in a falsetto voice. San’s insides told him to run, but he knew better. Siwon didn’t like people who didn’t follow orders. He walked up to the bar where a young man stood handing out mugs of beer.

“Excuse me,” he said to the man, “I’m looking for Siwon. My boss said he’d be here.”

“Nah, I ain’t seen him,” the barman replied.

A lie. He likely didn’t trust San. Most white people didn’t. He huffed and turned to the room. San tried not noticing the boys around him. He found them to be beautiful in and out of their dresses. He supposed them dressing as girls made it easier for their customers to stomach their desires. San preferred boys who looked like boys and girls who looked like girls. Of course, he kept that bit to himself. If Hyeon knew, she’d kick him out for sure. She’d rather he be stealing than selling himself to old men.

“I know where Benny is,” someone said to him.

In a very short night dress and stockings, there was nothing hiding the fact that they were a boy. Blond hair cropped short, he wore a thin robe that barely hid the naked flesh exposed underneath. He sat on the bar stool next to San, light blue eyes sultry and flirtatious, and leaned closer.

“I can take you to him.”

“What’s it going to cost me?”

“For you? Not a dime. I’m Lucy,” he said, “Benny and I are pretty close. I can get you in with him.”

“He asked me to come,” San said.

Lucy paused, his seductive stare breaking for a brief moment, “Huh, alright. Come with me, handsome.”

Lucy walked him through the bar’s main floor and up the stairs. He tried ignoring the workers servicing their clients or sitting in their rooms waiting for the next one. San enjoyed a good brothel, but something about Flannery’s Hall disgusted him. Not the boys or the girls, but the clientele. Old, wrinkled men who want things that real girls would not do. He saw one man in just his trousers come out of a room holding his shirt. Even after being with the person inside, he still sized San up with hungry eyes. He nearly vomited before moving onwards. Lucy led him to a series of rooms on the third floor. These rooms weren’t much quieter either. His body grew numb. He regretted coming here.

“Do you know what he wants?” he asked Lucy, keeping the nerves out of his voice.

“What every man that comes here wants.” He brought San to the last room and turned around, “Just relax. It’ll be over a lot quicker than you think.”

He blew San a kiss, and walked away. San could run. He could turn tail back home and pretend he’d gotten lost. He can say he got picked up by cops. But, he knew Siwon. The old man would see right through him. It wouldn’t be his first time with a man, but those had been different. He didn’t do it for money or by force then. San turned the knob, took a deep breath, and went inside.

“-And I told him, ‘Sure you can have it, but let me tell you, this snuff bites back!’”

Siwon sat in a well furnished room with a group of other well-dressed men. He stayed frozen by the door, counting down the seconds before someone saw the young, good-looking boy in the doorway. Siwon lifted his head first, gleeful and sucking on the end of a cigar, and smiled at San.

“San! There you are!” He stood up and walked over to him, patting his shoulder. “I worried you might’ve gotten picked up.”

“I ain’t a whore,” San heard himself say defiantly. “I ain’t sucking anything I don’t want to suck.”

Siwon appeared stunned by his words. “What?” he said in disbelief, but then it came to him and he laughed. “No, no, Sannie. You don’t have to worry about that. That’s not why I called you here.”

“It’s not?”

“Hell no,” he said. “You’re a good looking kid, San, but my girls have to be delicate and pretty. You’re too rough for that kind of work. Nah, I got a better job for you.” He put his arm around his shoulders and brought him closer to the men, “You see these men?”

San nodded, and he immediately noticed their fine suits, pocket watches and shiny shoes.

“They’re some friends of mine from uptown,” Siwon continued. “I told them I’d show them a good time while they’re visiting our little corner of New York. Now, I got the ladies and the booze, but we need the entertainment. That’s where you come in.”

“I ain’t following, Siwon.”

“This,” he gestured to another boy on the other side of the room, “Is Tiny.”

Tiny stood much taller than San, with muscular arms, legs and chest. In nothing but a pair of trousers, he might’ve been mistaken for a grown man if the face didn’t give away his age. San saw the faint scars on Tiny’s bronze skin, and the scab on his lower lip. He gulped down his nerves when the truth came out. 

“And you’re going to fight him.” 

****

“San? San? Can you hear me?” 

The voice came to him through a blurry haze. A gentle hand touched his face, and he instantly swatted it away. He pictured Siwon, the old man who’d caused his death, hanging over him with disappointed eyes. He’d lost the fight. Tiny beat him to a bloody pulp and he landed in the hospital. It explained the pain coursing through his body, starting at his torso and radiating across the rest of him. A low groan escaped him as a rough hand cupped his face. 

“San, wake up,” a familiar high voice said, not in the usual forceful tone but tender and calm. “Wake up, Sannie.”

“I’m sorry,” he coughed, the breath he took hurting his chest. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” they said. “We’re just glad you’re home.”

“San,” a female voice spoke to him. Hyeon? No, not Hyeon. Someone whose voice calmed every nerve in his body. The other person moved away as the woman came closer. “It’s me,” she said, “It’s YN.”

Opening his eyes at last, he saw you next to his hospital bed. Your eyes, puffy and red, stared at him worryingly. The girls in New York looked nothing like you. They had bruises or scratches from rough customers, and they carried that New York bred toughness about them. You had sand, but softness too. If he’d met you then, he would’ve tried keeping it straight and narrow. He’d get an honest job and marry you. That’s what couples did back then; they got married. But then, he wouldn’t know who and what he was. 

“YN…” your name left him in a hoarse croak. 

“Yeah, it’s me,” you sniffed. “We’ve been so worried about you.”

“I’m okay,” he said unconvincingly. 

“You got stabbed in the lung and started choking on your own blood,” said Seonghwa. “You aren’t okay.”

“What?”

Then the truth came to him. The birth. The angels. The baby. “Where’s Gisella?” he asked, panicking. “Did we get her back?”

“Gisella?”

“He means the baby,” Seonghwa told you. “They lost her,” he answered San’s question. “The angels got away before we could get her back.”

He’d failed. Once again, he’d let somebody down. “What happened after?”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” he said. “You stay here and rest.”

“What happened?” he asked more forcefully. 

“They brought you here,” Hongjoong answered. “Hector told Lucifer they’d taken the baby, and, well, losing a kid isn’t great news.”

“You’re lucky he doesn’t blame you,” Seonghwa said. “The guy’s lost so many Antichrists that he isn’t surprised when the angels take them away.” He paused, looking down at his younger brother. “Let’s give San some breathing room. We’ll come back later, Brother.”

A pair of lips touched his forehead, and another hand ruffled his hair. San reached out for you, grabbing your sweater. “Stay,” he said, though felt himself dozing off again, “Don’t go.” 

“I’ll stay here.” 

“Until they kick you out,” noted Hongjoong. 

San heard footsteps cross the linoleum floors and a door softly close. The scent of oranges caught in his nose, and he inhaled it until his lungs hurt. Your fingers pushed hair from his forehead, giving him a way to catch your hand. 

“I thought you’d died,” you said in a whisper, afraid to break the quietness of the room. “When you didn’t come home after a week, I thought something happened to you.” 

“The birth took longer than expected.”

“It made me think of what it’d be like without you,” he heard your tears thicken your voice. “I don’t like it.”

“I wouldn’t prefer it either.”

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” you said, sniffling. “You hear me?”

“I’ll try.” He felt you rest your head on the bed, still staring at him with watery eyes. San hated seeing his Darling cry. “Please don’t,” he said. “I’ll be okay now, Darling.” 

“I can’t help it.”

He cupped your cheek and wiped a stray tear. Whatever painkiller they’d given him slowly took over again. He didn’t let go of you, worried about where he might end up. 

“Just sleep, Sannie,” you said, kissing his inner wrist. “I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

****

He should be in pain. The bones Tiny broke with bloody fists should be cracked and poking through his skin. Blood should be dripping from the broken teeth and cut cheeks onto the floor. His jaw, his arms, and shoulders suffered so much pain that they must be in pain. Yet, when he opened his eyes, he felt barely anything. Only a dull stiffness in his muscles remained. A soft groan pulled itself from his chest, which did not feel broken or torn apart. He forced himself to open his eyes, but immediately regretted it. 

“Welcome,” a man’s voice said from nearby. It didn’t sound like anyone he knew. “Name?”

“Huh?”

“Your name, son. What is your name?”

“Daniel,” he answered with his English name. 

“Your true born name, please.”

“San.”

“Surname?”

“Choi.”

He blinked the pain from his eyes, and took in his surroundings. He found himself on a cold, hard floor. Looking around, he saw empty chairs in a carpeted room. When he glanced upward, he saw a man in a purple suit standing behind a window like a bank teller. Except, this wasn’t a bank. 

“Choi San, Choi San, Choi San,” the suited man looked through a thick, leather bound book. “Date of birth?”

“July 10th, 1910.”

He sensed the man’s silence when he finally stood on his stiff legs. The man, dark skinned with tight black curls, looked at him in astonishment. All the breath came out of him at once, and he fixed up his suit jacket. 

“My-My Lord,” he said, “Forgive me. We weren’t expecting you so early. You had four more years until you came of age. This is, I’m sorry to say, quite irregular for us.”

“What’re you talking about?” he asked, confused. He touched his lip where Tiny slammed his fist last, and felt the split skin. “Where am I?”

“You’re home, sir,” he answered. “I am Charon, ferryman of souls.” 

“Okay, and what’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you’re in Hell, my lord.”

San’s eyes widened, and his heart jumped into his throat. “I’m where?”

“In Hell,” he repeated. “Since you are a demon, you came to my station instead of the forest.”

“Look,” he walked up to the window, “I know I wasn’t the best kind of kid, but I couldn’t have been that-” then he stopped. “Wait, what did you say?”

“I said that since you are a demon-”

“-What? I ain’t a demon.”

“Yes, you are. Look for yourself.”

Charon turned the book around to show San a list of names scrawled in black ink. He pointed to San’s name, “Choi San, birth date July 10th, 1910. Mother: Kim Youngmi. Father: Asmodeus, Prince of Lust and Lord of Depravity. You’re a Duke of Lust, my lord.” He paused, “Did you…Did you not know that?”

San stared at the names. That couldn’t be right. Hyeon and Heechul were his parents. As terrible as they were, they’d tolerated him enough to feed and house him. Hyeon always told him she’d given birth to him in their house in Korea. Heechul claimed to have delivered San on his own. No Youngmi or Asmodeus came looking for him. 

“I can’t be. I just can’t.”

“But you are,” he closed the book, “You’re a very important person down here, my lord.”

“I ain’t a ‘lord’.”

“Yes, you are. Come with me. The ferry for Depravity hasn’t left yet.”

Charon walked out from behind the window and walked him to the front door. He led San out into what reminded him of the ferry back in New York. Thousands of people moved in straight lines towards the different colored ferries. A melancholic, dreadful feeling carried through the air. San thought he’d stepped into the most miserable place he’d ever been. He followed Charon down a flight of stairs opposite the one leading down to the crowds. By the ropes separating this line from the others, San guessed he’d gotten special treatment. Charon led him past the flowing black river, the crowds thinning the further they walked from the main ferries. 

“Are all those people demons too?” he asked. 

“No, these are reluctant sinners or those who received no baptism or funeral rites,” he said. “They’re taken across the river to Inferno’s port where they’re shepherded to Limbo. That’s where the sin seers figure out where to put them. Don’t fret, my lord. You’re not going to Limbo.”

“Where am I going?”

“Home.”

“Home?”

“The Lands of Depravity, located several circles above the circle of lust,” he said. “Your older brothers will explain more.”

“Brothers?” San gulped, “I have brothers.”

“You didn’t know that either? Whoof, whoever raised you certainly did you no favors,” he huffed. 

Charon led him to a smaller dark green ferry. At the bottom of the ramp leading onto it stood a soldier in bronze armor. Charon approached with a self-important smugness. 

Charon turned to him. “Here’s your ferry and your ticket,” he handed San a ticket from his inner pocket. “Hand it to the guard, and he’ll let you on board. It’s a short trip, but there’s plenty of food and drink there.”

“Thanks,” San said, reading the white ticket. 

“You’re welcome, and I hope you enjoy your new home.”

San nodded as Charon left his side. Anxiously, he walked up to the guard. 

“Ticket, please,” he said. When San handed it to him, he checked and then stamped an approval. “Welcome to Hell, my lord.”

“Thanks.”

San took careful steps up the ramp. It reminded him of the ferries back in New York, except this one didn’t have any people. An attendant in a purple vest and pencil skirt smiled brightly when he walked into the sitting room. She offered him refreshments, but he declined. He might vomit if he digested anything. Sitting on a chair, he kept an eye on his surroundings. He wanted to think he’d entered a sort of coma-induced dream. Right now, he’s really in a hospital bed. Any second, he’ll wake up and it would’ve been a big dream. 

He figured out he was wrong once the ferry reached port. The attendant led him to the ramp and gave him the typical customer-service farewell. At the bottom, he spotted dozens of people leaving their own boats to come ashore. He might as well be in New York, coming off a ferry from one part of the city to another. San had no clue where to go from here. Charon gave him no directions, and the attendant told him nothing. Staring around, he saw certain people in suits holding up signs. He spotted a tall, broad-shouldered man in a suit holding a card with his name on it. 

“Um, hello?” San approached him slowly. 

“Choi San?” the man asked with bright eyes. 

“That’s me.”

“Oh, wonderful,” he laughed with relief. “I’m Yunho. I work for your brothers. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sir. We weren’t expecting you for a few more years.”

“Things happen,” he shrugged. 

“As they do,” he agreed. “Come with me. I'm going to take you straight home.” 

“Where is ‘home’?”

“The Lands of-”

“-Depravity, yeah, the Charon guy told me that. What is home? Who is there?”

Yunho guided him towards the turnstiles, “The Black Keep. Well, it isn’t so ‘black’ anymore, but the name’s endured the centuries. Your brothers, Lords Seonghwa and Hongjoong live there. When they received Charon’s message, they were overjoyed.”

“They don’t even know me.” 

“That’s not important. You share a mother and father. Do you understand how rare that is for a demon prince?”

“My dad’s a prince?”

“Yes, Prince Asmodeus. Charon didn’t tell you?”

“He glossed over it.”

“As usual. I suppose it’s excusable since he has a lot on his plate. Things have been heavy for him since Lucifer added more ferry boats…”

He brought San over to a motorcar. Black with white leather seats, San hesitated to get inside. “I ain’t never been in a motorcar before.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

The car ride distracted San from the city around him. He hardly noticed how much it reminded him of the big cities of the world. He held onto the side of the car as it bumped and rode through the streets. Soon enough, they’d left Inferno and ended up in a vast countryside. It looked nothing like what he expected. Evergreen trees lined the rolling hills and fields of tall grass. The sun shone bright in the clear skies. This was “rich people country”, as Hyeon used to say. Street rats like them didn’t live in big houses with lots of land and fresh air. He knew it must be nice, but not like this. Yunho drove up the country lane to a large gold and white gate. Golden serpents slithered down from the bars that resembled flower vines. They opened on their own, letting them drive onto a circular roundabout surrounding a floral bronze fountain. 

“I ain’t ever seen a place like this…”

More snake motifs molded into the cream colored walls, with a long balcony above the tall doors. San stayed frozen in the car as he continued taking in the grandeur of the mansion. The people who lived here came from old money, like Siwon used to say. Their home didn’t appear brand new by any means, but it was not decrepit or unkempt. It amazed him. Not even Siwon could afford a place like this. His sleazy uptown buddies would never own a home like this. 

“Behold, my lord. The Black Keep.”

“It’s…”

He saw gold roses winding through the rails of the balcony above, and more clinging to the columns holding it up. San felt tears in his eyes. He’d never seen a more beautiful place, and this guy was saying he’d be living here. Impossible. Not even in his wildest dreams could he make up a place like this. 

“My lord?” Yunho opened his door without San realizing it. “We’re here.”

“Nah,” he shook his head, “This can’t be it.”

“You’re right. There’s more inside.”

San couldn’t picture the inside. Slowly, he stepped out and onto the gravel driveway. Yunho led him up stone steps to the front doors. More roses. 

“They must like roses, huh?” he joked, trying to hide his anxiousness. 

“They’re part of the family crest.”

“What’s a crest?”

“Like a little picture representing the family. Seonghwa will explain it should you want to know more.”

Yunho opened the doors and San stepped inside. He’d been right. He could not have dreamed up this place. High ceilings, paneled walls, expensive paintings and drapes with a grand staircase could not be of his own imagination. He gazed up to the ceiling to see a garden mural with a naked woman standing next to a tree holding an apple. He’d never seen a more beautiful painting. 

“You’re here!”

No fantasy of his could create them either. At the top of the steps stood two men: one with thick black curls hanging to his chin, and the other with dark red hair slicked back from his face. They weren’t New York boys. They weren’t human. Their beauty surpassed any boy or girl he’d paid for back home.San saw the golden pins on their chests: a snake coiled around a singular rose. The dark-haired one wore a white shirt underneath an emerald velvet and satin vest with a nice tie. The red-head wore a similar fashion, except dark red rather than green. They were beautiful. 

“You’re more beautiful than I thought you’d be,” the dark-haired brother grinned, eyeing him from top to bottom. “A bit grubby, but with a bath you’ll sparkle.” 

“I don’t mind a bit of grubbiness,” said the redhead, also sizing him up. “I think it adds to his charm.”

The way they undressed him with their eyes didn’t bother him like it might have before. He couldn’t look away from either of them. He’d let them take a piece for free. The dark-haired one snorted with a smirk. 

“Naughty,” he said. “I’m Seonghwa.”

“I’m Hongjoong,” said the other brother, still looking down at San's body. “He’s the oldest. I’m the middle child, and you’re the baby.”

“I ain’t a baby.”

“You mean ‘I’m not a baby’,” Seonghwa corrected him. 

“But, I imagine you’ve done a lot of things kids your age shouldn’t have been doing,” Hongjoong winked, but stopped when Seonghwa backhanded his arm. 

“He’s a child, Hongjoong.”

“You think the people up there care?” he retorted. “They force boys to dress up like girls and fuck them for spare change. They’re a bunch of animals. I bet he walked around with a painted face and gave blowjobs for two dollars-”

“-I ain’t a fucking whore,” San interrupted him harshly. 

“It’s ‘I’m not a fucking’-”

“-Correct me again and I’m putting you on the floor,” San cut him off. 

Seonghwa laughed rather than cower away. Hongjoong beamed, “Finally, somebody with some fire around here. Are you sure he’s our brother, Seonghwa?”

“Yes, I double checked. It seems he inherited Mother’s tough streak,” he said, amused. It was then that Seonghwa addressed the injuries left on San’s body. He walked up to him, and tried touching his chin before San flinched away. “Who did this to you?”

“A kid named Tiny.”

“What was he? Like four-feet but full of fire?”

“Six-feet with muscles that no kid should have. My boss made me fight him.”

San didn’t want to explain it to them. He still tried wrapping his head around the incident. He always believed Siwon cared about the kids who worked for him. Whenever one of them was mugged or picked up by the cops, Siwon sent men to take care of them. As he thought about it, he realized Siwon didn’t protect them. He protected the product the kid held for him. It saddened him. 

“Don’t blame yourself,” Seonghwa said. “Men like him only care about themselves at the end of the day. If he’d treated you like scum, you wouldn’t have worked for him. I’m positive if you’d survived that fight, you’d end up doing it again with someone else.” He brushed his thumb on the split lip, “Nobody is going to hurt you here. Not even if you asked,” he glanced sideways at his brother. “You’re the son of a lord now. Demons around here would be marked for death if they put a finger on you.”

“We’d make sure of it,” reassured Hongjoong. 

Their words should comfort him, but the comfort never came. He’d met plenty of adults who made the same promise. Hyeon was supposed to protect him, but she never did. Heelchul was supposed to protect him, but he never did. Siwon, Shoiming, his friends all meant to protect him and they didn’t. He meant nothing to them. He meant nothing to anyone. 

“Come on,” Hongjoong touched his shoulder, and frowned when San pulled away. “You’re peaky. Cook will make something for you. What do you like?”

Nobody did things for free. “Nah, I’m fine.”

“You’re not. Let’s go.”

Hongjoong and Seonghwa led him into a fancy dining room. On the table, servants put a large spread of food. Meat, cheese, fruits, and small cakes laid about the table. San’s stomach rumbled. The two of them sat on the other sides of the table, watching him closely. A woman in a maid uniform served him pieces of chicken, potatoes and vegetables. San stared at the plate. It beat the bits of bread and cheese he managed to steal off Hyeon. He picked up one drumstick and bit into it. The juicy meat broke on his teeth, tender and steaming hot. The first bite preceded the next greedy bites. It was so good that San thought he might cry again. Nabbing a bread roll, he wiped up gravy to stuff into his mouth. 

“Easy there,” Seonghwa chuckled. “The food isn’t going anywhere.”

“Or are you used to food disappearing before you eat it?” Hongjoong asked with a knowing look. “You aren’t the only person here who’s used to going hungry.”

“How could you get hungry? You live here,” San asked, food in his mouth still. 

“I didn’t always live here. Neither did Seonghwa.”

“Did you know who you were?”

“Yes.”

“Wait,” Seonghwa paused, “Did you not know you were a demon?”

“Not until I got here.”

“You mean to tell me that not only did your caregiver treat you poorly, but they never told you who you are?” 

“Yes.”

Hongjoong laughed gleefully. “They’re going to get torn apart.”

“Rightfully so. You weren’t supposed to be here so early. You’re still a child.”

“I ain’t a kid.”

“Yes, you are,” said Seonghwa firmly. “Just because you’re not twelve doesn’t mean you’re not still a child.”

“Nobody treated me like one.”

“Because they didn’t care. I care. Hongjoong cares.”

He’d believe it when he saw it. 

*****

Nothing beats coming home. Whether from a vacation or a night out, walking through the door into the comfort of familiarity relaxed the mind. San breathed much easier when he finally came home. He smiled seeing his bedroom, neat and tidy as he’d left it, and at the softness of his own bed. Seonghwa told Cook to make his favorite dinner for his homecoming; Hongjoong pulled out the “fancy shit” from their cellar. He appreciated his brothers’ attempts to make the event special, but the person who eclipsed them was you. 

“No fair,” frowned Hongjoong when you walked into the dining room, “Nobody said to look hot. Seonghwa just told me to wear my ‘nice shirt’.” 

San couldn’t take his eyes off you. In a velvet blue dress, he saw the tantalizing off-the-shoulders and the way the dress slimmed down to your shins. You’d put on the diamond necklace and earrings he’d bought you for your four month anniversary. He stared down your body as you walked to him and kissed his cheek. A single whiff of your expensive perfume had him capturing your lips with his. 

“You look divine, Darling,” he grinned, taking in the shade of your lipstick and your upturned lashes. “And all for me?”

“All for you,” you agreed, kissing him once more before taking your seat at the table. “I wanted to look nice for you.” 

“Do we really have to eat?” Hongjoong asked Seonghwa. He looked over to you, “She looks better than anything on this table.” 

“Back off,” San joked, throwing a piece of his roll at him. “You sleep in your own bed tonight.”

“Oh come on,” he whined, “We missed you too Sannie. I think we should all celebrate you coming back home alive together.”

“We can do that another time,” he laughed at the weak attempt. He took your hand, noticing the ring on your finger. “I want my Darling all to myself tonight.”

“I’m not the one complaining,” you replied, smiling coyly at him. 

“First course, please,” Seonghwa told one of the maids, who bowed and went to the kitchen. “This reminds me of his first homecoming.”

“His first homecoming?”

“He’d gone back home for a special assignment,” he said, buttering a bread roll. “On their 18th birthday, a demon is allowed one free kill. They get their choice of prisoner, living or dead, and can torment them however they see fit.” 

“I tormented a guard from my reform school,” Hongjoong smirked over his wine. “I put a box of rats on his stomach and-”

“-San,” Seonghwa continued, “Was offered the pass too.”

“You killed someone?” you asked, surprised by it. “Who?”

“Lee Siwon.”

“Who’s that?”

“He was a gang boss who cheated, lied, stole, gambled, raped, and killed. He sold young boys to seedy old men. He forced kids to fight each other until they knocked out or died. He was your classic asshole criminal,” he picked at the soft inside of his roll, “My dad gave me the torment pass as a gift for my birthday. He said it was a right of passage for demons. You can really exercise your powers and spread sin everywhere at the same time. I could only think of one person when he asked me who I’d pick.” 

“Was he still alive?”

“Surprisingly,” he nodded. “I figured he’d still be in the same city, extorting the same families and fucking the same kids. I got my pass and went home.”

“And he saw you?”

“No,” San grinned, recalling his one year back home, “And it drove him insane.”

“How?”

“General ghost stuff at first,” he shrugged. “I would open drawers and cabinets. I’d move stuff around his house and office. I’d make random noises in quiet rooms, open windows, and make radio static during his favorite songs.” He then laughed softly, “Every night at exactly 3:42am I’d turn on his water faucet. Not a steady stream, but enough that he’d hear it dropping. It drove him crazy. Then,” he ate the soft part of his bread, “I revved it up. I’d make him think people stole from him by taking money and hiding it around his businesses. I’d leave messages to make him think people in his gang were conspiring against him. Whenever he went to a drug deal, I’d either take money or damage the goods.” He laughed softly, “He finally spiraled when the market crashed, and he lost everything. Without me, he might’ve been able to survive with the money he’d kept hidden in one of his warehouses.”

“But you happened?”

“A huge fire started in the warehouse and destroyed property and the goods inside. By the time Siwon put the gun to his head, he’d completely lost his mind.”

San pictured his killer: Siwon, his hair streaked with gray, kneeling in his dusty apartment, sobbing as the agony took over. He remembered the man’s luxurious apartment having been stripped of anything valuable. Without a maid, and his wife having left him, Siwon surrounded himself with filth. Stuck in an apartment of trash, no money to his name with only the clothes on his back, Siwon had fallen. By the time San finished with him, nobody feared or respected Lee Siwon. He only revealed himself in those last few minutes, disguised as his fifteen-year-old self. Believing himself to be in a delusion of despair, Siwon didn’t question it when San made him see more children: the ones he forced into prostitution, the ones he put into fighting rings, and the ones he sacrificed on his path to fortune. The visions surrounded Siwon as he put the shotgun in his mouth. 

“No talking gore at the table,” said Seonghwa as the first course was served. 

“My favorite part was when he came home,” Hongjoong smirked, hardly noticing the soup bowl in front of him. “Seonghwa and I used to peep at him through the holes in his walls. We didn’t want to force him into anything, since we weren’t sure if he liked boys. Imagine our delight when Sannie walked into the lounge and,” he held back a laugh, “And told us if we wanted to see him naked, we could have just asked.” 

“And then you guys fucked?” 

“And then we fucked,” San confirmed, starting to eat the soup. A creamy chicken soup he’d fallen in love with when he first tried it. “What did you do while I was gone?” he then asked, wanting to change the subject. 

“What happened between you and Siwon?”

“Huh?”

“You could have picked anyone, but you picked him.”

San’s eyes met Seonghwa’s from across the table. He preferred not to think about how he ended up in Hell in the first place. 

“He killed me,” he said. “Well, indirectly. He put me to fight this kid that was twice my size and he beat me to death.”

“You've taken out guys bigger than you though. Jongho and Mingi have told me.”

“I was fifteen, skinny as a twig, and tired from running errands for him,” he answered. The image came to him as he spooned more soup. “If he and his friends wanted to watch a fight, they should have chosen grown men, not kids.”

“That's terrible,” you said. Like he knew you would, you picked up on his reluctance to continue. “I didn't do much.”

“Didn't do much?” Seonghwa said, astounded. “You learned how to make armor and weaponry with just your abilities.”

“You did?”

“It's not perfect. The bark is soft in some spots.”

“It can't be hard everywhere,” San said, “Otherwise you'll have trouble moving around when you're fighting. You can try filling up those weak spots with some kind of soft leather or mossy chainmail or whatever your flowery version would be.”

“What do you wear?”

“Breastplate, shoulder arm and shin guards.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s meant to be a costume as well as actual armor,” he explained, finishing off the small soup. “It’s in an old coliseum, so it has this Roman era theme to it. The armor protects most of the body, but leaves room for mobility. If every inch of me's covered in steel, I can’t move as quickly. The heavy armor would weigh me down because of my weight and-”

“-She’s been learning how to make living things with her plants too,” Seonghwa told him. “She’s managed to make flowers that sparkle like gems.”

“That’s great,” said San with a grin. “What have you made so far?”

You began telling him about what you called “gem stems': a beautiful range of different flowers that glittered and gleamed like gemstones. You’d managed to produce opal, rose quartz and amethyst flowers. Diamonds, rubies, and sapphires, you said, proved a bit more challenging for you, but you’d get it in the end. San found your creativity your most attractive trait. He saw the ensembles you wore, the way you redecorated your bedroom, and the plants you grew in your greenhouse. Everything you made turned out vibrant and beautiful. Seonghwa’s experiments might have had various shades of purple and red, but yours popped. He thought of the yellow-mouth flowers you’d made variations of in your greenhouse. Instead of only yellow, you had purple, pink, and orange-red ones. Octavius’s offspring came in hybrid forms now. Rather the purple hibiscus shapes, you’d merged them with sunflowers, roses, and tulips. Even the more dangerous flowers, who you called ‘Spike’ and ‘Rex’, bore interesting personalities and colors.

San wondered, as the conversation switched, about Francesca. He hoped Lucifer hadn’t harmed her. She’d already been in so much physical and emotional pain. Not only had she just given birth, but she’d lost her child. He’d thought someone might tell him what happened to her, but nobody breathed a word. The mother of Lucifer’s halfling children never seemed to matter to anyone. She was simply a vessel for the child who’d one day destroy the world. 

He looked over at you, cutting into the steak dinner Cook prepared, and felt grateful. Demons could breed with other demons. Demons could not breed with humans, aside from Lucifer, the King of Demons. Demons and cambions did not typically reproduce because most demons considered cambions closer to humans. When he first entered you, he quickly thought about how you’d never have his children. He’d never met a woman he wanted to “mate” with until you. Knowing you better now, and knowing your status, it was possible. Not certain. It’d be difficult and there’d be many failed attempts, but not impossible. 

But, what kind of father could he be if he’s unable to protect them? He’d been trusted to protect His Majesty’s child, and he could not do that. He’d failed in keeping the child safe. It’d likely been purified and turned into an angel by now. What if the same thing happened to you and he’d failed again? The image of you in Francesca’s place, laying flat on your back with blood pooling around your thighs and legs came to him. Some women died in childbirth. His mother claimed she’d nearly died giving birth to her last child, who’d come out deformed and sickly before passing a week later. He didn’t want that to happen to you. He didn’t know what cambion-demon pregnancies were like, but it could not be that different from normal ones.

“San?” your voice broke through his thoughts, and he saw you looking at him with concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Darling,” he said, pushing pictures of you lifeless and bloody from his mind.

You didn’t believe him. He saw your worry even as you went back to eating. San tried keeping up the charade by eating his own dinner.  The meal ended with a variety of tarts San enjoyed. He devoured the peach tarts, while you’d dove into the strawberry tarts. Your appetite never ceased to amaze him. You told him in your past life, you’d waste time going on fad-diets to keep yourself from gaining more weight. Now, in a world where that doesn’t matter, you indulged more than you used to. Cook’s excellent skills made everything you tasted mouthwatering. San didn’t mind at all. He loved a woman who ate well; particularly the luscious curves that might result from proper appetite.

“I’m heading to bed,” you said once dinner ended, kissing each brother but lingering on his lips the longest. “This dress is nice, but not sleepwear. Right, San?”

“If you give me a few minutes,” he slid his hand down around your thighs to your ass, “I can help you take it off.”

“No, I want to keep it a surprise.”

You kissed him one more time before leaving the dining room. San downed the last of his wine before standing from the table. Seonghwa and Hongjoong instantly gravitated towards each other as they often did when alone. It reminded him of the first time he saw them together, and he shuddered.

“Looks like San is going to get a second dessert tonight,” smirked Hongjoong. Seonghwa cupped his jaw and kissed his cheek, “A nice, thick, yummy creampie.”

“Hush,” San laughed, cheeks turning hot. “I won’t be the only one tonight, it seems,” he said, nodding to Seonghwa. “You two have fun.”

“You too,” Hongjoong said, hazy from his tipsy state and Seonghwa’s full lips on his neck.

He walked out of the dining room to his bedroom. Sadly, he envisioned a child in the hallway. A beautiful girl with your eyes and hair, giggling and skipping joyfully. Perhaps a boy with his nose and jawline, playing with a wooden sword and pretending to cut down imaginary foes. San wanted to say you’d both be good parents, but could you really be? Andromeda was the kindest demon he’d ever met, who’d loved you with all her heart. You had some idea of how to be a loving mother, should you want to be one. But he didn’t grow up with such love and attention. Hyeon and Heechul despised him, and did nothing to hide it. He’d been another burden for them to bear. He never felt a mother’s warm hug and kiss or a father’s arm around his shoulders or patting his back. No fun holidays together. No cozy nights. Nobody comforted him when he cried or had a bad dream.

He didn’t have any of that until Seonghwa. Hongjoong might’ve been more of a sibling figure, but Seonghwa took on the parental role. He made sure San got a good education, that he ate well, bathed and tried making him the gentleman Hongjoong refused to be. He’d hated it at first because he saw it as a force to change. But, he soon learned Seonghwa didn’t want to change him, he wanted to help him. If San should imagine any father figure, it should be his oldest brother.

San walked into his apartment, not bothering to turn on the lights as he headed straight to bed. He pictured you, him and your child having come back from a family night out. You’d be in one of your lovely dresses, and he’d be wearing a suit and tie. Your kid would be put to bed first, wrapped up in soft pajamas and falling asleep as one of you read to him. Then, you’d both be alone. As he removed his jacket and unbuttoned his tie, the idea of domesticity between you both appeared to only sadden him. What if someone tried harming one of you, and he failed to protect you? What if he wasn’t quick enough? Strong enough? Brave enough? If he’d moved faster, he might have saved little Gisella. Lucifer would be delighted for another antichrist; lovely Francesca would be rocking the baby to sleep right now. But because of him and his hesitation, that had been shattered.

“This room hasn’t felt the same without you.”

San, unbuckling his pants, turned to see you leaning against the doorframe. You wore a lace night dress, a slit through the middle to reveal the matching underwear underneath. Your beauty usually distracts him from any thought in his mind, but not tonight. All he saw when he looked at you was Francesca and the baby he didn’t save.

“Has it?” he asked, knowing he had to say something to keep you from suspecting anything other than pure lust.

“It was empty,” you sauntered over to him, running your hands down his back and around his waist when he turned away. “And the bed was always cold.”

He felt your warm lips dot kisses on his shoulders, and your hands replaced his at his front. With deft hands, you undid his belt and fly, then lightly pulled at them until they pooled at his feet. In the mirror, he saw you clinging to him. He touched one of the hands on his chest, feeling the softness of your fingers and palms. Your fingers then intertwined. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, the temptress dropping in favor of the sweetness.

“Nothing,” he assured you.

“Liar,” you said, lips on his skin. “What happened up there? Who’s Gisella?”

“What?” He never recalled mentioning neither mother nor child to anyone.

“You said her name in your sleep,” you replied. You didn’t sound jealous. You sounded comforting, “Was that the baby’s name?”

“Yes,” he said, preferring not to lie to you.

“What happened to her?”

“She was taken. I…I didn’t get her back in time.”

“What do angels do with demon babies? They don’t…” you hesitated, then said, “They don’t kill them, do they?”

“No, they purify them,” he said. “They use their holy magic to sap out the demonic energy in their blood, and turn them into another angel. To Lucifer, that’s as good as death, but it’s more favorable than true death.” He stared at himself in the mirror. Even with all his muscles, speed and skill, he couldn’t protect the most important being in demonic history. “I’d nearly gotten her out. I was right there, YN. I was right at the exit into Hell, and they caught up to me. I…I tried fighting them off, and I did for a bit but then one of them caught me and she…” his chest tightened remembering the moment she slipped from his arms. “They caught her before I could. One of them stabbed me through my armor. I managed to stab my knife into their neck, but not in time to save her. They’d escaped through their own portal. I failed, YN. I was given one job. I had one job to do and I failed.”

“Just because you failed once doesn’t make you a failure. You did all you could-”

“-I have fought angels twice my size. I have fought against humans, demons, angels, archangels, cambions, and all the rest. I should have succeeded-”

“-You’re not always going to win,” you assured him, putting yourself between him and the mirror. “From what Seonghwa told me, the likelihood you would lose the kid was fifty-fifty. You might get the child away or you might not. It isn’t an indication of your skill or abilities.” You rubbed his arms comfortingly. While you have bite and bark, you also carried a gentleness he rarely experienced.

“I watched the birth happen,” he explained, “And the mother. She was so young, but carrying this big responsibility. I saw the pain in her eyes when she handed her baby over to me. She’d hoped I might be able to take her to safety, and I didn’t do that. The child she bore for weeks was gone, and she’d never see them again and it’s my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” you said bracingly. “She must’ve known what she was getting into when she agreed to get pregnant. Seonghwa told me all about it. He says every few years a woman is chosen to have his kid, and she has to consent before it happens. This woman knew there was a chance she’d lose them one way or another. Now, is it nice that it ended up happening? No. The kid getting taken is not your fault.”

“It is.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“It is.”

“No, it isn’t,” you said more firmly. “You did the best you could.”

“I should’ve done better.”

“Stop that,” you cut him off. “Everyone always says what a great swordsman you are, but you’re not going to win every battle-”

“-What if that happens to you?” he said. He cupped your cheeks and looked into your eyes. Their shape and color had been his last thought before he slipped into unconsciousness. “What if something happens to you and you die because I wasn’t fast enough to act? What if we have a kid and they get hurt or die because I didn’t try hard enough? YN, you are the one person who matters most to me. I don’t want to lose you-”

“-Is there something that makes you think you will?” you said, touching the hand on your cheek. “I do have a shadow demon for a bodyguard, and Jongho and Yeosang aren’t weaklings either. There’s also two other demons who’d protect me just as much as you would. What makes you think something might happen to me?”

“The fear of losing something that makes me happy,” he said. “When I was growing up, nice things always got taken away. When I made some money, the witch took it from me. If I got a bit of food, she’d snatch it and give me the smaller piece. If I showed any sign of happiness, it disappeared somehow. I love you, YN,” he said, “And I don’t want anyone to take you from me.”

“Nobody is going to,” you assured him, kissing him lightly. “I’m not exactly defenseless either, you know,” you gave a small grin.

You extended your hand, and several thin vines extended from your hands and around his wrist. San hissed when the vines tightened around his arm, squeezing him until his arm seized up. As that happened, you flicked your other hand and out shot a spiked, magenta dart that lodged itself to the wall. San watched the barb start spreading a sizzling, black goo that burned a hole right through the stone.

“Where did you learn that?” he asked, impressed by the snake vines slithering back into your palm and the acid dart dropping to the floor.

“My Aunt Rhea,” you shrugged. “She’s been giving me self-defense classes. She says ladies need to know how to protect themselves from man-things. Gaia is the one who teaches me how to create and grow the flowers I work with now.”

“Your mother?”

He noticed your sad expression, “How to live again.” You held the hand you’d cut the circulation from, rubbing it gently, “How to feel whole and happy.”

“Were you not before?”

“Not truly,” you said. “I filled my life with meaningless, temporary happiness. I thought having lots of nice things and sleeping with good looking people made life worth it. But, now I realize how empty I’d always felt then. I never felt complete,” you brushed yourself up against him, “Until I met you and your brothers. I love you more than anything else, and not just because the sex is amazing.” The both of you shared a laugh, “I don’t want to lose any of you. I might have owned nice things, but the people I chose to share myself with didn’t stay long. I don’t want you to get bored of me and throw me out or trade me in for something better-”

“-There is no one better,” he reassured you. “No one.”

He stepped out of his pants, kicking them away as he cupped your bottom. This prompted you to leap into his arms, wrapping yourself around him tightly. He turned to the bed, where he laid you down gently before landing on top of you. Once your bodies met, his lips opened yours in soft caresses. The intoxicating natural drug in your mouth mingled with his own, and that familiar burning desire ignited between you. Usually, this sensation took him down a rabbit hole of overwhelming lust. Tonight, it didn’t seem to do that. This time, he felt nothing but tenderness as he slowly grinded himself into you. He wanted you, but not in the sexual, primal way. San didn’t want to fuck you until the sun came up. He didn’t want to ‘take you’ like an animal in heat. He wished to melt with you. After witnessing so much violence and blood, he wished every vein and muscle in his body sunk inside yours to make you one body.

‘You are the sun and I am the moon. Without your light, I am nothing.” 

A quote Seonghwa read in a poem came to him as his hands slipped off the straps of your dress. Seonghwa was better with words. He grew up with poetry and literature while San could never get a grasp on it. He often forgot names of poets or authors or playwrights, but he understood their words. He felt them. This quote bundled everything he felt for you into two sentences. Now that he had you, he would be nothing if you left him. 

“San,” you breathed his name between kisses, “Don’t be rough tonight.”

“I don’t plan to be,” he replied, pulling down the top half of your dress. He peppered kisses on your chest as your breasts spilled out of the cups. A nipple in his mouth, he sucked and licked softly. “I want to feel every inch of you.”

He exhaled deeply when your hands slid through his short hair and down his neck to his spine. Your hips slowly rocked against him, your thin underwear dampening between you. He wouldn’t use toys this time. He won’t call you dirty names, choke and slap you. San treated you with all the gentleness of a man holding fine china in his hands. He delicately handled your breasts, giving them gentle squeezes and sucking them until you whimpered. He did not bite them like he sometimes did. San teasingly wagged his tongue over each just to hear your soft gasps. He knew how much you loved having your nipples teased. It’s why they paid so much attention to them during those first few moments in bed.

Your excitement grew when he kissed between them and down to your pubic bone. Kissing along your hips, his arms wrung around your thighs so his hands massaged the inner sides. The mere scent and taste of you aroused him. He started at your knees before moving closer to your center, where you hitched a breath when he reached the very innermost corner. He kissed back up to your waist and to your breasts again. On the base of your throat he asked:

“Would you want one?”

You did not answer right away. You paused, staring at the ceiling. Right when he thought he’d ruined everything, you answered him. “Maybe? I never thought about kids before. I like kids, and babies are cute, but I never considered it. I never met anyone I wanted a family with, since most of them already had families.” Hands in his hair, you looked down at him. “But then, I met you.”

This brought you to his lips, where he kissed you as passionately as before. You both broke apart as if you’d just come up from underwater. You wrapped your legs around him as you kissed his neck. “Give me one,” you whined in his ear, rocking against him again, “Fill me up with one. I’d have one with you any time.”

He strengthened his arousal. His cock hardening against your inner thigh, he groaned as he pushed to your hips. His hands on your breasts, San moaned when a hand slid between you to his groin. He didn’t stop you from pulling him from his boxers to lightly stroke it. The pleasure it brought felt like nothing before. It might as well be the first time you two have touched each other. While he suckled your nipples, you took your time fondling his boner. He could feel your fingertips sliding over the most sensitive parts of his cock; he groaned aroundyour hard nipples whenever you gently squeezed the bulbous head. San knew he was larger than either of his brothers. They liked mentioning it whenever they shared a bed. The only thing that mattered to him was how much you liked it. Pushing into your fist, he thought of all the times you reached out and groped him.

‘I don’t know why. I just love having it in me. It hits the spot each time and makes me cum so much.’

San hooked his hand to the side your panties and slipped himself under them. The both of you shared a moan once his thick head touched your soft lips. He didn’t enter right away. San lifted himself up a bit more to see the two of you nestled together inside your wet panties. Your hands gripped his forearms for stability as you slid yourself up and down his tip and shaft. The sweet nub at the very top, hard and uncovered from its hood, dragged across the slit of his head. He took hold of himself just to move side to side over the sweet spot. You pulled your panties aside to give him a better view of your soaked pussy opening up to his throbbing cock. It made for a beautiful sight. He saw the need for him in your eyes, and he’d usually withhold it. San and the others enjoyed teasing you into madness, but not now. He sunk himself inside the tight entrance that clung to him. It brought a twinge of relief before he pulled out to keep rubbing. 

“Don’t stop,” you said, moving your legs further apart to give him more room. “That feels so good,” your eyes fell shut as he sunk back in and pulled out a second time. 

“It’s you that feels so good,” he groaned, sliding in and out a few times before withdrawing. He saw how wet you became each time he did it. “It’s your pussy that drives me absolutely insane,” he huffed a laugh, then groaned when he saw you stretched around his shaft. “It’s so tight every time,” he said when he pushed further inside, rolling his hips to get deeper, “It makes me want to breed you whenever we fuck.”

“Then breed me,” you said, head tilting back into the bed and hands gripping his arms tightly. “Cum deep inside until I’m bursting with it.”

Anything for you. Laying on top of you, arms sliding underneath your shoulders to keep you close, San fully plunged inwards. Even though his body begged him to go faster, he continued gradually. His lips found yours, and you each moaned into each other’s mouths. He never felt so close to one person, not even his brothers. Not a single soul alive made him feel the way you do. It was unlike any romance or feeling he had for anyone before. San needed you the way plants need sunlight; the way fish need water and birds need the sky. After what he’s gone through these past few days, he cannot be without you anymore. 

Even when you managed to roll him over, you remained connected by a few inches. Arms on either side of his head, you kept kissing as you brought your hips up and down on him. The faint smacking of hips on hips joined your moans and groans. He felt down your back to squeeze your supple cheeks. He didn’t let go, but he didn’t spread or spank them either. He simply held you as you went at your own pace. 

“San,” you whispered his name in the midst of your whimpers, “Sannie…”

“YN…” he replied, merely wanting your name to roll off his tongue.

You are the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Just like when he first laid eyes on the Black Keep, it nearly brought him to tears at times. He pushed his hips to yours, feeling his orgasm slowly climbing to the top. Your taut walls grew tighter as his tip hit that squishy piece inside, driving you to rock back and forth. He put one hand to your chin, thumb resting on your lower lip. The feeling of your tongue and lips around the digit made his jaw drop. You put his other hand between you to your clit, where he slowly rubbed it from top to bottom. He made sure you felt the pad of his thumb moving around over the middle.

He came right when you did. Your body stiffening, mouth hung open with his thumb still inside, you kept him buried deep as you shuddered on top of him. He removed his thumb to hear your moans uninterrupted, causing his own to drive further. He felt the distinct hot sensation of his cum shooting inside while yours covered him entirely. You planted yourself on him as his head stayed firmly on your g-spot, bringing overwhelming pleasure before it turned to sensitivity. 

San didn’t pull out right away. With a bit of maneuvering, the both of you stayed connected against the pillows. You hugged him close as he continued pushing inside you despite his sensitive cock. More deep, passionate kisses resulted in him remaining hard for another orgasm. San lifted your knees up, curling you upwards to shove in at a different angle. When he broke away to look down, he saw thick white fluids mixing each time he slid outwards. This encouraged him to keep his strokes short and deep so nothing spilled too far out. He can’t breed you if he lets it seep onto the bed. That’s awfully wasteful.

“Fill me up with more,” you said, hands tugging at his scalp. “Please, San. Please.”

“As much as I can give you, baby.”

He did. He came inside until he felt empty. You enjoyed this part particularly because his orgasms also brought out yours. By the time he felt spent, he still did not pull out. Holding you to his chest, he brought the covers over the both of you as you kissed wherever your lips could reach.

“I love you,” the words escaped you in a single breath, staying as close as you could under the covers.

“I love you,” he said back, giving light kisses to your chin and lips.

While it was highly unlikely it’d take root inside you, San liked the idea of it happening. He’d do anything for you regardless of whether it happened or not. You meant the world to him. Seeing you fall asleep in his arms, San pictured it and smiled softly before kissing you one more time. 

***

A/N: Such a fluffy good time! I kind of wanted to dial back on the kink for this one, so I hoped you guys still enjoyed it <3 Like and reblog! It keeps posts alive!

[mazikeenhyde]

Oh Baby... Pain is Pleasure

Here we go again people!

POLY JUDGMENT DAY X READER (WRESTLER) 

Y/W/N – Your Wrestling Name 

Y/W/N/F – Your Wrestling Name Finisher

WARNING – SMUT? Kind of…, ANGST… Kind of?  PUBLIC HUMILIATION, POLY THEMES AND REFRENCES, BDSM, SPANKING, VIOLENT REFRENCES, BLOOD, INJURY ETC 

Oh Baby…Pain is Pleasure 

The crowds’ cheers and chants echoed throughout the stadium, the floors under the feet of the thousands of fans felt like they would give way from the excitement. A completely sold-out arena had been packed full to the brim with carboard cutout signs and fandom shirts as far as the eye could see! From the millionaire front row viewers to the cheapest seats way up in the rafters, to the millions of fans watching from home, everyone had been awaiting this moment! The artificial bright and colorful lights flashed all over as the music blared throughout the stadium. The smoke and fog machines mixed together engulfing the walkway and the surrounding edges of the ring, adding to the already tense atmosphere. 

This championship match had reached its peak, Women’s World Champion Dakota Kai vs Y/W/N! I had fought and clawed my way to reach WrestleMania and now I was inches away from becoming the new Women’s World Champion!

Running at each other from the ropes I swung for a clothesline, but Dakota ducked under and with a straight elbow to the face I fell to my knees, my vision blurred, and the blood began to trickle down from my nose. I knew it was broken, but that wasn’t going to stop me. Besides… I kinda liked the pain. It reminded me being back home in bed with Rhea, Damien, Finn & Dom. Our rougher nights of pain and pleasure had certainly helped prepare me for this ‘No Disqualification’ championship match tonight! 

Grabbing her hands around my face she pulled my hair back and got me into a tight headlock with her arms desperately hoping I would tap out. The ref waving his hand in my face repeatedly asking if I was okay, if I was done, if I wanted to quit. 

NEVER. 

As my face turned a gentle crimson, and my lips turned a pale blue I gave Dakota a devilish grin and winked at her. Shimmying under her grip to gain back some movement her frustration built ever more. 

“What the hell ya bitch?! Tap out! Just tap!” Her grip got tighter with fury. “Why won’t you quit?!” 

I moved my head up just enough to get out a few words to her, much to the delight of the WWE management team who knew it was far too late to censor as the live camera feed had picked up each word. 

“You’re cute… but Damian… chokes me harder than that in bed.” I turned my eye line to the camera and blew a soft kiss to Damian before throwing myself back and pulling up my legs to kick Dakota off and send her to the opposite side of the ring and into the post.  Her anger was almost at boiling point as she saw me trying to recover. 

I crawled up to my knees taking in a deep breath and shaking my hands trying to fight the pins and needles and get the oxygen moving through my blood stream again. 

Running over at me Dakota lept up at once again wrapping her legs around my face this time and we hit the mat with a loud thump. She locked her legs in tight and pulled me back to get me into an almost perfect submission once again. Her thighs tightened around my head as she held her weight up with her arms screaming at me to tap out. Once more the ref waved his hand in front of my face, but he looked both concerned and surprised as a soft giggle from my lips escaped me. 

“THE FUCK?!” Dakota shouted in anger, and she looked under her arm to my face smirking at her. 

“Rheas…thighs…are stronger” I choked out my words knowing full well my lovers out the back would be dying of laughter watching this match. Whilst Hunter at this point would be firing this camera man who was doing his best to pick up every explicit comment that came from the center of this ring. 

Dakota was done, she knew this was a no disqualification match. There were no rules! So, letting go of me she kicked out and sent me headfirst into the corner ring post and rose to her feet. Rushing out of the ring Dakota grabbed a chair from under the ring and threw it over the ropes before sliding back in. 

Grabbing a handful of my hair she dragged me to my feet, slamming my face into her fist repeatedly as the blood smeared across my cheeks and down her arm. Dazed and lost she threw me over the chair headfirst positioning me with my hands to the mat. She ripped the Judgment Day shirt down from my back exposing my pale skin in the artificial light before unbuckling the belt from her ring gear costume. 

Bringing the thick leather belt down across my back the loud slashes echoed throughout, and they were relentless, one after another after another. Then, kicking out the chair from underneath me I fell weakly to the mat with a heavy thud as Dakota once again tried for the pin. 

“1…2…” The Crowd chanted. 

I kicked out before 3 and pulling my arms up over her head I wrapped myself around her and whispered in her ear smiling once again. 

“Daddy Dom would be proud, but you should get Finn to give you some advice….when it comes to a public spanking” I coughed out catching my breath and planting a soft kiss on her cheek. I dragged the both of us up to our feet before leaping in the air and pulling her face down onto my knees as my back hit the mat and Dakota stumbled back, now half in and out of consciousness. 

I looked up over my shoulder to the top rope, it was now or never.  The last time I had done a finisher from the top rope I had ended up on the injury bench for 6 months. But this was WRESTLEMANIA BABY! Do or die, Live or Lose! So, I set up the final move, a turnbuckle power bomb into the Y/W/N/ finisher! 

Backstage the WWE stage management were frantically rushing around as the show headed towards its finishing line. Production crews, lighting technicians, camera men and more bounced off the walls completing one task after another, switching from one feed to the next, sending word to and from the announcement desk where Michael Cole  & Pat McAfee were losing themselves in excitement. 

“TURNBUCKLE POWER BOMB Y/W/N/F ! TURNBUCKLE POWER BOMB Y/W/N/F! SHE’S OUT, SHE’S OUT!” Michael Cole was stood throwing his arms in the air as Pat McAfee tried to climb onto the desk in front of them. 

“HOLY SMOKES COLE! THROUGH THE MAT, SHES GONE THROUGH THE MAT” Pat Screamed down his headset.  

“What the….” Cole paused to look up at the sky.

Suddenly, as if on cue the skies above opened and as if to add the cherry to the top of the icing of this glorious display, the rain began to pour down soaking the ring. Lighting illuminated through the sky as the thunder boomed in time with the WrestleMania theme music that was blasting through the arena. Even with the weather not one person could have felt the cold, not one person would have known the temperature had dropped. The heat from this match was powering everyone through! 

 “Can it be…. Lightening?! Jeez people I don’t know what could possibly happen next, we’ve seen it all tonight, here live at WrestleMania!” Cole added. 

“A STORM IS BREWING COLE! DO WE HAVE A NEW CHAMPION?! DO WE HAVE A NEW CHAMPION?!” McAfee couldn’t contain himself any longer as Michael Cole held onto his leg keeping him stable. 

From backstage Damien, Rhea, Dominik and Finn had all gathered around watching on the monitor. Dominik had Damien’s arm in a tight grasp as Rhea held onto Finn’s hand, all of them watching and waiting to see if their girl could do it. Each of them slightly turned on from their girlfriends’ antics in the ring. 

“Go Bunny…GO!” Rhea bit her lip as her eyes fixated on the screen, she ran one hand down her tight black skinny jeans, trying to contain the pulse that was beating out from in between her legs. Dom was quick to slide his hand into her side jean pocket and nuzzle into her neck planting soft kisses and gentle nips to her skin. 

“Come on baby girl...” Damien whispered under his breath, palming at his crotch in an effort to keep his hard on at bay ,until he could get Y/N and the rest of the group backstage and into the Judgment Day clubhouse. 

Rhea held her breath, unable to gather in any air with nervous anxiety reaching a new high as the monitor feed lite up and they watched Y/N climb to the top rope and send Dakota through the center of the ring. 

“PIN HER! PIN HER!’ Finn shouted slamming his hand against the wall behind the monitor making Dom the ever submissive jump. Damien moved to wrap his arms around the young boy kissing the top of his head and rubbing his arm gently, his eyes still firmly locked on the screen. 

Dom turned his head for a moment over to the management desk who looked concerned, like something was wrong. He caught Hunters eye for a moment and the look they shared, they both knew, this wasn’t going to end well. 

I dragged myself to my feet and stood only a few inches away from Dakota. My entire body was exhausted, that final power bomb had taken Dakota out, she lay motionless in the center of the ring. But at what cost, because here I was, my shoulder was fucked, my knee was fucked, I could barely see, I could barely stand. 

Still, something willed me on, something moved me forward. The crowd screamed and their chants echoed around me, as if they were stood right next to me and also a million miles away. I tried to collect my thoughts to focus as I moved one foot in front of the other, falling on top of Dakota Kai to get the pin. 

“THIS IS IT COLE!” Pat jumped up and down before slipping off the table from the rain residue and onto the arena floor scrambling his way back up to get a glimpse at that final pin. “ THIS IS IT!!”

The entire stadium joined in with that collective… 

“1…..2…..Thr”

BLACKOUT. 

The Judgment day panicked and scrambling they pushed past the crew and management staff in the dark trying to find their way to the ring. 

"MOVE! MOVE!" Damian shouted launching camera men out the way as the group ran to protect their girl.

The entire stadium went pitch black. The crowds screamed, young kids cried, and every last piece of music faded out to nothing. 

Every tune fell silent. 

Every note.

Except one….

An all too familiar piano key played out to the arena as smoke filled the walkway and a single spotlight illuminated the ring. 

Silence filled the stadium.

‘Urr Cole? What’s happening?” Pat questioned as the two presenters clung to each other like Shaggy and Scooby doo, shaking in fear. 

“It’s…The Wyatts.”

[play-now-my-lord]

A funny thing about the attempt to make Scorsese into one pole of those "highbrow (actually middlebrow) vs. middlebrow (actually lowbrow) art" tastes-great-more-filling stealth advertising things - okay, let's start over, a funny thing about Disney/Marvel directors and Scorsese talking shit on each other is this:

Scorsese views himself mostly as a craftsman, his films primarily as a jobsite, and gets asked questions about movies as part of that (admittedly very weird) job. His admirers see him as a visionary artist, but that's ultimately secondary for him to getting shit like cinematography, casting, direction, etc right - the things a director does, not what they aspire to. This is all over how he talks about other directors, focusing primarily on craft; it's actually pretty rare for him to make blanket statements about such-and-such a genre being artless schlock, the sort of shit you'd hear from someone who is a film critic for a living rather than gladhanding producers for a living.

The Disney/Marvel directors view themselves mostly as artists, their films primarily as a form of self-expression (admittedly under tight limits imposed by the demands of money), and are strongly incentivized to engage in something we might call "counter-criticism" by a mix of ego and studio pressure. Their concerns are at the end of the day artistic concerns, prestige and respect for achieving finished films, which is measurable in part by box office returns and in part by aggregate critical reception - which skews absurdly positive to begin with! But negative reviews by people they can't brush off are something they have an incredibly difficult time tolerating.

This state of affairs is, to put it lightly, incredibly strange. Scorsese is globally admired as a filmmaker with a specific artistic vision, but his vocabulary and concerns in embodying that vision are technical. The various directors of Disney/Marvel films are a revolving door of hired hands who have, exercise, and seemingly desire close to zero creative control over their most noteworthy work - and yet their concerns are artistic.

This is a dialogue that takes place on a smaller scale in many forms of art; it's extremely commonplace for artists with outsized industrial-scale success (and let us diplomatically say significantly compromised fidelity to their stated desires as artists) to wear the brittle persona of a misunderstood visionary, and for the actual visionaries who have achieved some notoriety (and the nobodies who live in their shadow) to have primarily technical and economistic concerns, and for these two groups to frequently butt heads while talking completely past each other. Something something Walter Benjamin, I guess!

[goodwhump-temp]

Shawn Spencer Whump | Psych

1x02 Spellingg Bee - Motorcycle crash, hospital, knee brace, limp, bumps into bin, pain 1x03 Woman Seeking Dead Husband - Held at gunpoint x2 1x05 Lives - Held at gunpoint 1x06 Weekend Warriors - Held at gunpoint 1x15 Scary Sherry - Nightmare

2x02 65 Million Years Off - Shot at, scared 2x03 Psy vs Psy - Hostage 2x04 Zero to Murder in 60s - Brief boo-boo (chair race sabatoged) 2x05 And Down the Stretch... - Childhood bully 2x07 If You're So Smart... - Bullied by children 2x09 Bounty Hunters! - Handcuffed, jumps off boat, held at gunpoint 2x13 Lights, Camera… - Nearly nailed to death (38:00), character funeral 2x15 Black and Tan - Sad (18:30) 2x16 Shawn (and Gus) of the Dead - Mummy 'curse'

3x01 Ghosts - [Flashback; emo/arrested] Increasingly angry about mothers' return, confrontation, heartbroken 3x04 Greatest Adventure in the History of Basic Cable - Shot at, chased x3, restrained, held at helicopter-point and gunpoint, betrayed 3x06 There Might Be Blood - Held at gunpoint, dangerous confrontation 3x08 Gus Walks Into A Bank - Held back, worried, bank hostage, tight gus hug, manhandled 3x10 Six Feet Under the Sea - Held at gunpoint 3x11 Lassie Did a Bad, Bad Thing - Punched unconscious, hostage, held at gunpoint, pistol whipped, fatherly care, nearly passes out (40:15) 3x12 Earth, Wind And… - Runs into burning building, oxygen mask, held at firepoint, caught in burning building, briefly thought dead, coughing/smoke inhalation 3x13 Any Given Friday Night at 10PM - 'Abducted' 3x14 Truer Lies - Held at gunpoint 3x15 Tuesday the 17th - 'Trips', held at 'knifepoint' 3x16 An Evening with Mr. Yang - Angry, mom held hostage, scared, heartbroken

4x01 Extradition: British Colombia - Held at gunpoint x2 4x02 He Dead - Daddy issues 4x03 High Noon-ish - Stampede/pushed, falls into mineshaft, pain, held at gunpoint, trapped 4x04 Devil is in the Details… - Confession 4x05 Shawn Gets the Yips - Scared/dumb ("bomb" on treadmill) 4x06 Bollywood Homicide - Slapped (39:15) 4x07 High Top Fade Out - Held at gunpoint, shot at 4x09 Shawn Takes A Shot in the Dark - Shot, abducted/missing, bleeding, pain, knocked unconscious, choked, jumps on moving car, weak, sling 4x10 You Can't Handle This Episode - Shot at 4x12 A Very Juliet Episode - Held at gunpoint, punched x2, knocked down x2, kicked 4x16 Mr. Yin Presents - Nightmare, angry, heartbroken x2, fatherly love

5x01 Romeo & Juliet & Juliet - Held at gunpoint, falls through window, kicked through wall, insane dodging skillz, knocked down, sore 5x03 Not Even Close, Encounters - Held at gunpoint/abducted by 'aliens' 5x04 Chivalry is Not Dead - Hanging upside down (tomato face), poisoned, collapse, hospital, unconscious 5x07 Ferry Tale - Held at gunpoint x2, hostage, kicked in the face, tear gas inhalation, restrained, trips/tumbles down a hill 5x09 One, Maybe Two, Ways Out - Seriously heartbroken 5x12 Dual Spires - Trapped in burning house 5x13 We'd Like to Thank the Academy - Held at gunpoint x2 5x16 Yang 3 in 2D - Held at shotgunpoint, scared

6x01 Shawn Rescues Darth Vader - Jumps off roof 6x02 Last Night Gus - Hungover, stressed, jumps from balcony, shot at 6x04 Amazing Psych-Man & Tap-Man - Trips, found unconscious, punched, kicked x2, thrown, sand to the eye, exhausted 6x06 Shawn Interrupted - Mental patient, hands covered, knocked unconscious, restrained, held at gunpoint 6x09 Neil Simons Lover Retreat - Robbed, heartbroken x2 (29:35), smile through the pain (42:00) 6x10 Indiana Shawn and the Temple - Hand stuck, slapped, manhandled, held at gunpoint, 'crying' 6x13 Let's Doo-Wap it Again - Appendicitis, collapse, hospital drama-queen, held at gunpoint, drugged, drugs wear off, le rigor mortis, le pain, le kitty cat! 6x16 Santabarbaratown - Held at knifepoint, knocked unconscious, black-eye

7x01 Santabarbaratown 2 - Scared, angry, thrown, active mine, held at gunpoint x3, Lassie love 7x02 Juliet Takes A Luvvah - Traumatized (27:00) 7x03 Lassie Jerky - Shot at, held at gunpoint 7x04 No Country For Two Old Men - Held at gunpoint 7x06 Cirque Du Soul - Pain from pull-ups 7x07 Deez Nups - Huge confession, heartbroken 7x08 Right Turn Or Left For Dead - Insomnia, regret, depressed, head slammed into glass, bruise, concussion, denial, stabbed, nearly hit by truck, headache, tackled 7x11 Office Space - Poked x2, trips, bloody nose, scared, framed 7x14 No Trout About It - Painful yoga, choked, fired

8x01 Lock, Stock… - Held at gunpoint, "restrained" 8x05 COG Blocked - Jumpscared out of hammock, painful poke, body decked by cane, held at gunpoint 8x07 Shawn & Gus Truck Things Up - Hand squeezed painfully 8x09 Nightmare on State Street - Slapped, zombie 8x10 The Break-Up - Nervous, held at gunpoint, shot at, emotional

[gugudalala]

pairing: Toji x reader / TojiMMA 

synopsis: Toji MMA with an upcoming match with Sakuna. Y/N a new reporter with a last chance on the job she need Toji help where he offer his help in exchange for sex.

warning: pet names, smut with plot, overtim, squirting, dumbification, size kink, unprotected, praise, ect+++

words: 1964

A/N. English is not my first language if there any mistake plz forgive me. I do not own any of the character or picture (credit to the rightful owner) only the plots are mine. 

Enjoy ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

CH: (1) | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Toji Zenin, a heavyweight MMA fighter. He is not only known for his amazing winning record but also for his sexy, dangerous body and looks that could put down anybody who passes his way. With all the body muscle and his good look no wonder he is so popular. Nobody knows where the scar on his face comes from but that does not stop the increasing number of his fangirls and boys yet, he hates the attention that he receives. 

“Fuck off” he shouted out to the reporter who had crowed him after his match, which of crouse he had won 

“Stop scaring them off” said his manger, as he quickly followed him into the break room leaving the press behind with the help of their bodyguard “They just doing their job, why don’t you enjoy their attention a little more” 

Toji ignores him sitting into the chair relaxing his muscles provided for him by his physical therapist, as they help him cool down his body 

“You know, they’re just excited for your upcoming match. With you fighting one of the MMA legend, how would they ever stay calm” 

“Sukuna, a MMA legend? Funny” 

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Y/N POV

"Listen here and listen well, this is your last chance. You will do an interview with Toji about the upcoming MMA match of Toji Zenin VS Sakuna. Do you understand?!" scream your boss

‘Fuck Toji, fuck the MMA’ you mentaly curse as you drink down another glass of whiskey. Becoming a reporter had always been your dream, however the only kinds of news that had your interest were about crimes. Mystery and thriller which was your favorite, not some celebrity life. Yet, the crimes had been decreasing and there was nothing for you to make a living off

‘Not sure if I should be happy or sad about it’ you thought as you asked for another glass. Looking over you just happen to notice that there was a man sitting 3 seats away from you. You can’t recall when the man came by. However, that does not matter now when all you want to do is to forget your boss

Looking over to that man all you can tell is that he might be loaded as he dresses so comfortably for these luxury bars. With a tight black shirt and gray sweatpants. With all of his muscles that are hugging his shirt. You could not tell if the shirt is too small or his muscles too big. ‘Must be the latter’ you taught to yourself  

“Like what you see?” said the man as you realize that you’re caught from staring at him

“Not much to see” you lied as you look away blushing from the embarrassment from getting caught

A light laugh leaves his mouth as move toward the seat beside you and leans on his palm facing you. Seeing his face close up all you can say is that he is handsome- too handsome for your little heart. With a scar on his mouth you can't help but to let that little thriller heart of your run free

“Your face is red” he smirk 

“I drank a lot tonight” you replied holding onto your glass tighter looking forward not wanting to face him 

“Hmm” he slowing reach his hand out to you with one of his finger touching your ear dragging down to your neck pass your shoulder to the collar of your shirt  “it all red” his eyes never leaving you

“Oh” is all that you can reply hoping that he would not hear how hard your heart is pounding 

“Where does it end?” he asked with a smug. As his finger traces upward back to your ear. You knowing full well of what will happen next based on your answer 

‘A night won’t hurt’ you thought, losing your mind into the alcohol. “Want to see it out yourself?” You asked him now facing him and by the time you know it you were already in one of the hotel rooms. Him being all over you, kissing harshly as you were pushed against the wall

You felt dizzy, as he hungrily kissed you as he bit into your bottom lip. You parted your lips allowing him to kiss you deeper with his hand onto the back of your neck holding your face upward toward him as he pressed himself between your legs. Never in your life had been kissed like this before and as he pull away leaving small kiss around your face to your ear as he whisper ‘get on the bed’

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

You both move toward the bed, walking backward following his lead with his mouth never leaving you. Once on the bed with his body on top of you leaving a small kiss along the side of your neck down to your breast. He unbuttons your shirt, pants, and undergarment, throwing them away leaving you naked. He sat up while scanning your body from top to bottom with only the bedside lamp as your light source. A small smile formed on his mouth “it's all red” he smirked as his strong hand held onto one of your breasts playing with your nipple as he blended down to suck on another. He smiles as he hears you whimper, his hand reaching down playing with your clit. A moan escaped your mouth as his finger entered you. Lewd squelching sound filled up the room as he hit all the right spots in you. Your moan became louder as your stomach tighten almost reaching your climax 

“Gonna cum on my finger? Show me how you cum, little one” with him fingering you faster helping you reach your climax. He help you ride it down your hand reaching out grabbing his shirt 

“Take it off” you plead. So he did, finger leaving you hanging wanting for more and within a second his shirt was off thrown away leaving him only in his sweatpant. Him standing on his knee above you, the little light helps define all his muscles and you take your time scanning him from the top only to stop at the bulging on his sweatpant. You hand reach out to touch it as you sit right up and you can’t help but to pull down his pants freeing his dick only for it to hit your face. You were stunned at how huge he was, worrying if you could even handle it. Before you could say a word he pushed you onto your back with one leg in his arm over his shoulder. Feeling his tip rubbing your fold “Such a sweet little thing for me” he teased  

“Are you on pill” he asked “yes” and with that he slowly sank in stretching you out. You moan out as you feel every inch of him entering you. “Fuck, so tight” he moan as he pull out just to push right back in. You suck in a shaky breath never once you had anything that big in you. “Too big” you murmur, lip trembling. He picks up his speed and pounds right into you. Burying it so deep and thrusting fast and rough. “I’m go-gonna” You whine as you climax for the second time of the night. Drunk on pleasure, you didn’t notice that he slowly positioned you into the matting press with your two legs up on both of his arms. 

“Think you can handle me more” he ask. Looking to where you both connected only to find out that he is only half way in- all this time. “W-wait” before you could reply he already sank himself deeper into you hitting your cervix. Your mouth pops open with a gasp taking him in more and more. “You feel that, taking me so-so well” he praised as he was pounding harder and deeper than before. With every thrust he hits your cervix you can’t help but to cry out of pleasure. “I can’t- no more-“ you cried. “Shhh, you can and you well” he shushes you, as he bent down kissing you. You never had sex this intense in your life before, the amount of pleasure you felt scare you. “W-wait some-something coming, I feel strange” you cried as you tried to move away from him yet with his strong arm he was able to hold you down. Now you're back facing him with you in all four. His arm is holding onto your side forcing you down onto him as he continues trust into you. 

“Go on then, make a mess” one of his hands reaching down, playing with your swollen clit. Your core tightens as you reach your high, leaking all over the sheet beneath you. Screaming with your eyes roll back from the intense pleasure. “Fuck” he groans seeing you squirt all over. “Good girl” trusting faster, reaching his own climax coming inside you. Before you can even catch your breath he flips you over, now facing him with him in between your legs. Looking at his face, his eyes dazed in pleasure with a smug expression and his hand stroked his once again hard on “Again” he demanded while looking at you “cum like that for me again” he positioned himself right at your entrance. “Hmmm” you moan back too tired to form a word, feeling him going in-

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

*buzz-buzz buzz-buzz*

You woke up to your phone ringing. Reaching out you receive the call "Y/N! Finally the phone went through, I just received mail from the team that you are allowed to go in for a quick photo of the gym today. Meet them at their gym at 2 and take this as your chance and meet up with the coach to get closer to Toji-san. I will send the location of the gym to your mail. Don't forget this is your last chance" your boss ended the call

'Fuck' you mentally curse sitting up you look around to see the other side of the bed empty- no note, no men cloths, nothing. You recall the night before which was the most intense sex you ever had and which you had enjoyed thoroughly. Hell, you never knew that sex can be that extreme and with the guy whom you never get the chance to know his name

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Looking in front of you is the so-called gym that your boss forces you to come to. You had gone home, got dressed and gathered your stuff even with the difficulty of your sore leg and muscle you finally made it to the gym. One of the men came out and greet you

"Hi, you're the reporter right? I'm the coach assistant that will be helping you around today" he introduced himself. He brought you into the gym which can only be accessed by the members of the team. Which he introduces you around through the building, rooms, and the equipment along with some new addition members of the team. Everyone is friendly as they help you along the gym yet you can't help but feel the soreness from last night is getting back through you from walking around.

"-and so this is Toji-san's personal break room" he guides you to the front door "Can't we go in?" you asked. During the tour you were able to access into other member's personal room, so you questioned him. "Sorry, unlike other members Toji-san rooms are off limits. He hated when people come into his room without permission" he answer you with a small awkward smile "Oh, what a jerk"

"That is not what you called me last night" a familiar voice calls you out. A shadow looms over you from behind, turning around looking up you recognize the face- the exact same one that makes you cum over and over oh god how could you ever forget

[zepskies]

Choosing Him

Pairing: Dean W. x Reader, Sam W. x Reader

Summary: You and Sam have been dating and living together for a few months, when Dean shocks you with a confession. Now you have to choose.

AN: This was requested by this beautiful anon! (And also by my friend! ❤️)

Read this as a stand-alone or see this imagine for context: Dean gives you an impossible choice. (In which Dean is in love with Sam’s girlfriend.)

**Note: This contains two alternate endings: Sam vs. Dean.

Song Inspo: “I’m on Fire” by Bruce Springsteen

Word Count: 4,300 Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, unrequited love, as well as love requited.

Imagine: Choosing him.

“Dean, just talk to me. What the hell happened?” Sam asked.

No, he implored. Angrily.

But he implored, nonetheless.

Dean was good at being stubborn. In fact, he was a professional. His lips were tight in a frown, his brows just as knitted as his brother’s.

He sat cross armed on the couch while Sam stood, using his hands to punctuate his exclamations, as he often did when he was frustrated.

“Nothing, man. I already told you,” Dean tried.

“No,” Sam said sharply. “She’s actively avoiding you. And you’re taking any excuse you can not to be within three feet of my girlfriend. So either you said something, or you did something.”

Dean looked up at his brother with a heavy sigh through his nose.

They’d been at this for a while now. So long that he was surprised you hadn’t come barreling into the living room already to break up the argument. Because he had a feeling that just the sight of you would shut them both up. (Not in a good way.)

Dean’s throat was tight, his stomach churning with unease, though he tried to show none of it on his face. He could see that Sam was on the verge of losing his shit. Just a hair away from assuming the worst.

And the worst of him.

That, Dean couldn’t abide.

“Look,” he gritted out. “I didn’t do anything.”

Sam paused, tilting his head. He took in a breath that was only slightly calming, enough that he lowered to a seat on the coffee table, across from his brother.

“Then what’d you say?” he asked.

Dean felt even guiltier just remembering.

Three weeks ago…

You wanted to know why he was drinking alone. Why he’d downed nearly an entire bottle of Jameson in the kitchen on a Tuesday night.

“You really wanna know?” Dean asked. His voice was both a rumble and a coarse whisper. His green-eyed gaze fell to your lips.

He watched you suck in a subtle breath. Your eyed widened, and your body froze. He also saw the blush staining your cheeks.

So he leaned in, slowly. He was mere inches away from finding out how sweet you really were.

He heard your shallow breath. His eyes flicked up to yours, and instinctively knew that he’d captured you. He was making you think about it.

“Tell me no,” Dean said. Tell me to stop, or I swear to God...

“Dean, what...” you whispered. But that wasn’t a no.

Still, he couldn’t. He just couldn’t do it. Not to Sam.

Dean merely reached out with a hand to soothe a gentle thumb across your cheek. He realized then that he loved you. He loved you enough to let you go, if he had to.

"It comes down to this," Dean said. His voice was deep, full of grit and desire. He saw the conflict in your eyes.

He swallowed. His heart was pounding against his ribcage, but he used every ounce of self-restraint he had left, forcing his hand to fall away from your cheek.

"You've got two choices, sweetheart," he said. And he pulled away, leaving you there at the table.

You never told him to stop…but he just couldn’t do it.

“It doesn’t matter,” Dean eventually answered his brother.

He ultimately couldn’t bring himself to voice the desperation of a drunken idiot.

He met Sam’s gaze directly. This much, he could say.

“All you need to know is I’d never…even drunk off my ass, I’d never hurt you,” Dean said.

Sam turned those words back and forth in his mind. His mouth firmed as he read between the lines, as he so often had to with Dean, who struggled to express the deeper parts of himself. Sam realized then what his brother was finally confessing.

“She loves you,” Dean added, with a self-deprecating smile.

That fell between them for a moment, as Sam rested a hand on his knee and processed all of this in record time. He glanced up.

“What about you?” he asked.

Again, with that quirk of a smile that didn’t reach Dean’s eyes.

“Don’t you worry about that either.”

He got up, clapped Sam on the shoulder, and left him there to continue thinking. Dean passed the kitchen and continued down the hall.

Neither man realized that you were standing behind the kitchen doorway. You’d been about to attempt a bit of stress baking. A chocolate tart, maybe. Or a cheese souffle. Or even the new cherry pie recipe you’d found for Dean. Anything to take your mind off your current predicament.

However, now you knew you couldn’t put it off anymore.

You didn’t want this, for either of them. You couldn’t let yourself be a coward.

Steeling yourself with a deep breath, you left the safety of the kitchen…

And you ventured into the living room, where your boyfriend was still brooding. He raised his head when he saw you out of the corner of his eye.

“Hey,” he said, clearing his throat. Even now, he was relieved to see you. He also felt like he was standing on unsteady ground.

“Hey, yourself,” you greeted back. You tried to smile, but your heart was in your stomach with nerves. “I need to tell you something.”

Sam seemed to realize what you wanted to talk about. He sighed.

“Look, don’t worry about it. Dean and I talked it out—”

“No. No, because I need to say this. Because you deserve to hear it from me,” you insisted.

You also paused, as you didn’t quite know where to go from here.

Sam’s brows furrowed, but he tried to be patient. He watched your gears turning as thought to thought shifted in your eyes. It was one of the things he loved most about you, how open and expressive you were. He could usually tell what you were thinking…except for today. And the past few weeks.

That was what had him more nervous than he’d like to admit. If a blow was coming, he’d really like to be prepared…but he just couldn’t fucking tell.

Until you began speaking.

“Okay, first of all. Nothing happened,” you assured. You rested your hands on Sam’s shoulders. He looked up into your eyes, but before he could even nod in response, you kept going.

“Dean was drunk, and I wasn’t. Which probably won’t make you feel all that better, but the point is, all I did was ask him what’s wrong? And he didn’t want to tell me. But then I pushed the issue, as you know I do sometimes. I’m working on it, I really am.”

You levied a finger at Sam, at which he could only nod. Again, before he could offer a reply, you kept going.  

“Well, finally he was all, you sure you wanna know?” you said, mimicking Dean’s deeper voice. Sam was tempted to smile, if but for what you were actually saying, and the way your gaze averted from his.

“And there was a moment there when…I thought maybe he might try to…but he didn’t. The problem is, I didn’t say no,” you confessed. Your brows knitted as you revealed how disheartened you felt at that, how guilt-ridden.

Sam’s eyes softened a bit, even though your words stung.  

“I should’ve said it,” you knew. “I should’ve pulled away, but I didn’t. Though in my defense! I was in shock. He was saying shocking things without saying them, you know? And I don’t want to be in this cliché…teen drama-esque, love triangle bullshit! You’re not Edward and I’m not Bella and this isn’t goddamn Twilight. And I refuse to be treated as such.”

You were huffing and puffing by the end of your little rant. Your eyes widened a fraction when you caught Sam trying to stamp down a smile.

“Is this amusing to you?” you snapped.

“Not at all,” Sam said. He shook his head, and with a sigh, drew you back to him with his hands on your hips. You stood between his open legs and grasped the front of his shirt.

“Look, thank you for telling me,” he said. “I know that we kind of rushed this a little. The moving in thing, I mean. It just…it felt right, at the time.”

“Yeah, I was kinda there for that,” you quipped. Your smile made him smile in return.

“Well, I guess I just need to ask you…if it still feels right,” he said.

He looked up into your eyes, still not quite sure what he would find. His heart was in his throat, no matter how many times he cleared it. He was good at looking calm when he wasn’t, and maybe his face was composed, but inside him was a tempest.

You calmed it with one touch. A gentle hand on his chest.

“Sam,” you said. Your smile was beautiful and warm. “After you left Stanford. After what happened to Jess…I didn’t know that her funeral was the last time I was ever going to see you.”

Despite that melancholy memory, your lips soon curved into a grin.

“Well, not for a long time anyway.” You both lightened at that.

Then you became more contemplative. Your gaze wandered beyond him for a moment, lost in the past.

Sam’s hands moved up to your waist and squeezed gently. You came back to him with a brighter expression.

“But when I saw you again, I thought…damn, he’s amazing,” you said with a giggle. “Even more amazing then when I knew him.”

Sam looked down at that, despite his smile. You picked him back up with your hand on his cheek. It was overgrown with stubble, a week or so past when he'd usually shave.

You didn't mind the scratchiness, but you wondered if you'd been distracting him too with your indecision. That thought made you feel all the more guilty.

“I still think that when I see you. Get to wake up next to you, research mythology and symbology and dead languages, and other things that should be impossible,” you said. “So yes, it still feels right for me. Very much so.”

Sam’s more genuine smile lightened you. He nodded and let you tilt his head back, slipping your fingers through his hair. He liked the way you touched him freely, both reassuring and affectionate.

He didn't want to admit it, but he'd been quietly afraid. Afraid he'd read you wrong, that his heart had somehow lied to him. Now he knew that it rang true.

“Okay. Good,” he said. And he reached up to touch his lips to yours.

At least, it was a simple touch at first. It soon grew in passion, becoming a more claiming kiss. He pulled you in flush against him. A hand tangled into your hair, brushing against the back of your neck, and you hummed in delight.

Your hands sunk further into his hair, just as your mouth wordlessly claimed him back. His long fingers trailed down your back and made you shiver against him. You gave more and more of yourself with each kiss.

"I love you," you whispered against his lips. Because he deserved to hear that too.

Sam paused. His eyes were still closed as he recovered some of his breath. He rested his forehead against yours and brushed a tender hand down the soft column of your neck.

"I love you too," he admitted. He had resisted saying it, and even felt a bit ashamed that he'd doubted your feelings. Now, he felt like an idiot for not fighting harder before.

This, what he had with you, it was worth fighting for.

He smiled at the way you kissed his cheek then, soft and slow and with purpose.

After a moment, you pulled away to stroke his cheek once more…and also to tell him one last thing.

“When I saw you again, I did have another thought,” you said. “He’s amazing, but…how can I think that about my best friend’s boyfriend?”

Sam frowned then, as that reality had crossed his mind as well, back when he reconnected with you last year. You held a hand to your chest, over your heart.

“Jess was like a sister to me. So how could I think about you like that? It didn’t matter how much time had passed since her death. That thought, and those feelings still had weight, Sam,” you said. “My point is…try not to be too hard on your brother for this. I think he’d rather lob off an arm than cause you any pain.”

Sam considered your words with a nod.

“I’ll talk to him. Don’t worry,” he said.

“No, I…I’d like to talk to him, if you don’t mind,” you said. “That is, if you trust me.”

Sam’s brows rose, and then furrowed slightly.

“I do, baby,” he said. “You can talk to him if you want, but…I have to. He’s my brother. He should hear it from me too.”

No need, Dean couldn’t help but think.

He pushed off from the wall, twisting a wrench in his hand as he made his way back to the garage.

It stung. Actually, it fucking cut and twisted. More painfully than Dean would ever, ever admit.

However, he knew when he needed to bow out. This was one of those times.

He’d just have to learn how to let you go, for good this time. He wouldn’t risk hurting you, or his brother again.

So once he made it to the end of the hall, he shut the door, once and for all.

Or…

You didn’t want this, for either of them. You couldn’t let yourself be a coward.

Steeling yourself with a deep breath, you left the safety of the kitchen…

And you ducked out the back way, heading down the hall.

You found Dean exactly where you’d expected—in the garage, getting ready to work on his Baby. He was sitting on a stool with his box of tools beside him. Tools he didn’t let anyone touch (except for that one time you hid his power drill, just to mess with him).

You crossed your arms.

“We need to talk,” you said.

Dean sighed, and spied your stern face over his shoulder.

“What fucking now?” he muttered. You didn't quite hear him, but you recognized his surly frown.

“Yes, right now,” you said. “Why did you do it?”

“What?” Dean asked, raising incredulous brows. “Why?”

“Yeah, why.” You stepped up to him while he swiveled in your direction. “If you supposedly had feelings for me, why did you wait so damn long? Why did you wait until we got here?”

You weren’t just casually dating his brother. You were living with him. Even if it had just been a few months, you loved Sam…and yet, you hadn’t pushed Dean away when he almost kissed you.

Why, why, why? you thought. Your teeth ground together when you thought of how tenderly Dean had touched you. The fire in his eyes, just barely held back by a thin wall of self-restraint.

“Tell me no,” he’d said.

And now, annoyance made his face tight.

“Look, just forget about it, all right? I was drunk—”

“No. You weren’t that drunk,” you refuted. “I’ve seen you slaphappy, laughing at nothing, grinning like the Joker and falling onto the couch face-first, passed out drunk. You were coherent that night. You were honest. So tell me, how long have you felt this way?”

Dean tensed. He didn’t want to do this. You both knew that, but he also knew that you weren’t giving him much of a choice.

And yet, you were waiting on him, as patiently as you could manage (something he knew was difficult for you). He sighed deeply.

“Pretty much from the beginning,” he said.

“What?” you said, ever so eloquently. You wanted to cringe at yourself. (And you called yourself a linguist.)

Your lips pursed in disbelief. “What part of the beginning?”

Dean glared heavenward, as if that could stop you from asking questions.

“From the first damn second I saw you,” he snapped. The longer he looked at you, however, he couldn’t help but soften. “I remember, you argued with Sam about dead languages, that Latin was for pussies. Ancient Greek was the tougher beat.”

That was true, you thought. And that argument stemmed back from when you and Sam were in college. Ancient history, you could say.

“The Greeks were more fun too,” you added. It triggered a smile to briefly lighten Dean’s face.

“Yeah, you said something about mass orgies,” he said, his brows furrowing.

You bit your lip at the memory. You might’ve winked at Dean with more confidence than you’d felt at the time.

Now, the man shook his head.

“Right then, I wanted to know you,” he said. “Problem is, the more I did, the more I liked what I saw.”

You stared back at him in dismay.

“Why couldn’t you have just told me from the beginning?” you asked.

Dean made a sound of frustration, carding a hand roughly through his hair.

“Oh, and what, break up the show?” he snarked. He waved haphazardly beyond you, to the moose of a man somewhere beyond the closed doors of the garage. Remembering his brother made Dean’s irritation start to fade, back into self-deprecation.

“You and Sam…you’ve got history,” he said. “He’s smart. He takes care of you, protects you. He’s uh, more the boyfriend type, anyway.”

Dean looked away from you then, crossing his arms. You relaxed yours and couldn’t help but draw near to him. A frown took over your features as you tilted your head.

“Okay, Sam and I have history,” you said with a nod. “But…you don’t think you’re smart too?”

Dean’s lips pursed somewhat as he glanced back up at you. You met his stare.

“You don’t think you’re capable of all those other things?” you asked.

Dean didn’t have an answer for you. At least, not one he was willing to say.

For the past few weeks, you’d been fighting with yourself. You’d turned that moment in the kitchen over and over in your mind, and why you couldn’t do what you were supposed to do.

Now, looking at Dean’s face, you understood why your heart broke for him. Why your heart ached with ridiculous longing for him in equal measure.

You knew then that he’d take care of you. That he’d protect you. And maybe…

“Sam and I don’t make a habit of going after the same girl,” Dean said. Even that, it seemed, was difficult for him to get out.

It broke you from your thoughts, again with your frown.

“Yeah?” you asked. A bit of your temper sparked once again. “Is that why you’re making me Yoko Ono? I’ll tell you something right now. You’re not John and Sam’s not Paul and I refuse to break up the band, Dean!”

“No one’s asking you to!” Dean said, finally raising his voice to match you.

He got off his seat and stood to his full height. Though he wasn’t as tall as his brother, he still towered over you. You craned your head up to glare at him.

His green eyes were once again full of fire. You tried to resist it, but that look made a jolt of electricity zip down your spine, and between your legs.  

“Oh, really?” you retorted. “That’s what you want? For me to forget you didn’t shake me the hell up?”

“Yeah, I really fucking would,” Dean gritted out. Even though his heart leapt at your admission, that he’d shaken you up at all.

“Why?” you said. “If you claim to care about me, why would you—”

“Why would you?” he shot back. He gestured at you with a dismissive hand. “The second you saw him, it was like your face lit the hell up. I’m not gonna get in his way. And by the time the you two were together, I just…I didn’t think you…”

Dean cut himself off, turning from you to wipe a frustrated hand over his mouth.

You watched him very closely, all while you made efforts to take in some deep, even breaths. You followed him, and more tentatively, you grabbed onto his wrist to tug him back around.

“Why would I what, Dean? You didn’t think I’d what?” you all but pleaded. Your grip lowered and tightened on his hand.

“Just talk to me,” you said. “Because this is your one and only chance.”

He was reluctant. For once, you could see it written all over his face. Or maybe you were just getting better at reading him.

“It’s fine. I’ve made my peace with it,” said Dean.

Liar.

He shook his head and slipped his hand out of yours.

“At the end of the day, you saw him, not me,” he said. “So go back upstairs, and we’ll never have to talk about this again.”

Your frown deepened as he sat back down and tried to turn away from you. You were so goddamn mad. At yourself, or at him, you didn’t know what percentages of each.

So you closed the distance between you and Dean and turned him back around, with a firm hand on his shoulder. Even with that small touch, your insides fluttered at the firm muscle there, and the broadness of his frame when he let you move him. He blew out an exasperated breath.

You wavered just slightly, as you contemplated the confession you were about to make. It shamed you, but at the same time, you were woman enough to admit your mistakes.

“I did see you,” you said, meeting his eyes. “But Sam never hesitated to show me what he wanted. And maybe…maybe he was safer. Familiar, and less dangerous.”

Dean’s brows furrowed, incredulous and confused.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked.

You couldn’t fault him for it. Your hand eased on his shoulder.

“Dean, seeing Sam again was like getting my best friend back,” you told him. “Back in college, we were thick as thieves. Me and Jess, Sam and Brady. And when you two found me to help with that case, I wouldn’t have ever seen him as anything more than my friend…until he did something about it.”

Your gaze was pointed. Dean’s lips pursed.

“When I met you,” you continued, “it was like the Godfather ‘thunderbolt.’ When you flirted with me, I didn’t know what to do with myself…whereas with Sam, I could fall back on my old habits.”

Dean’s face knitted further, making you sigh.

“With Sam, I’m the person I was when he knew me. The me that never faltered. That had all my shit together,” you said. Your small smile then was self-deprecating at best.

You felt vulnerable. Dean could see it in the way you held yourself. It was costing you something to be this honest, and that meant something to him. His face might've been stoic, but he was hanging on your every word.

“With you…with you I can’t hide," you said. Your voice was softer, slightly trembling. "And that terrifies me, more than monsters.”

Looking into Dean’s eyes again, you found him actually listening. He seemed to be digesting your words, and trying to make sense of them. You reached for him, clenching a hand in his shirt.

“So what was it that you thought I wouldn’t do?” you asked.

Dean studied your face a moment longer. He hesitated.

But he couldn’t keep lying to you either. What you’d just said gave him hope that he wasn’t about to fall flat on his face here.

With a deep, defeated breath, he shook his head and leaned his elbows on his thighs.

“I just got to thinkin’…” he said. “Why would you give up what you’ve got with him, for me?”

You didn’t know quite what to feel when you looked down at him. Disheartened, sympathetic, annoyed…but most of all, you felt your heart clench.

Your hands framing Dean’s face brought his eyes back to yours. You stepped in between his open legs.

“I’m going to try something. Just once,” you said, biting your lip. “And if it doesn’t work, we won’t speak of this again. Understand?”

A true smile finally twitched at the corner of his mouth.

“All right,” he agreed. You nodded.

Slowly, ever slowly, you leaned down and brushed your lips with his. It was chaste and sweet. Your hands were soft curving along his jawline. His hands found their way to your waist, molding to your shape. That steadied you, and encouraged you to dive back in.

You tilted your head and kissed him a bit deeper. He held you more securely against him, like he was afraid you were going to think better of this and pull away from him.

But you didn’t. His lips were soft and supple and knew how to move against yours. He soon guided you down for a seat on his strong thighs, even though the stool he was sitting on creaked at the added weight.

Then his tongue begged entrance past your lips. If this was his one chance, then damn it, he was going to make the most out of it.

You let him in with a moan. Your fingers tangled in his short hair, your nails dragging down the back of his neck and making a tendril of heat run down his spine. He squeezed your hips, down your thighs, while his lips continued to ravage yours.

It was one hell of a kiss.

But it wasn’t just lust either. At least, not for you. It was warmth, and an overwhelming feeling being right where you were always meant to be.

For Dean, it felt like a craving he wasn't meant to indulge in...but even so, having you in his arms felt as natural as he feared it would be. He didn't just want you. He wanted this. Today, and every day.

When his lips finally dragged away from yours, it took you a moment before you could even open your eyes, let alone catch your breath.

“Damn it,” you whispered.

Dean chuckled, and pulled back just far enough to graze your cheek with his curled fingers.

“Guess I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said. You smiled, but it soon fell.

“Oh God, Dean. What’re we gonna do?” you asked. Already there were tears stinging in your eyes. And still, you held him back with your arms curled around his neck. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

Dean’s relief, and a hidden swell of happiness, also dimmed. “That ship’s sailed, sweetheart."

You sniffed, wiping at your face. “Don’t joke right now, please.”

“I’m not joking,” he said. He held you a fraction tighter. His deep voice rumbled, with desire, longing, and remorse all at once. “I’m actually serious beyond fucking belief.”

You saw everything you needed to see in his eyes. It gave you the strength to be honest.

“So am I,” you nodded, sniffling again. “I’ll talk to him.”

Dean shook his head. “He’s my brother. I’ll do it.”

You stroked his cheek, feeling the rasp of stubble against your fingers.

“Together, then,” you compromised.

And with an unsettled breath, you reluctantly detangled yourself from Dean. Before this went any further, you needed to talk to Sam. It was easily one of the hardest things you’d ever contemplated doing in your life.

Dean seemed to have similar thoughts as he let you up, then stood along with you. He dragged a hand through his hair again and heaved a sigh.

“It’s not gonna be easy,” he said. His brows drew together as he considered every alternative reaction his brother might have. None of them were pretty.

You rested a hand on his arm.

“Look, Dean. If we’re going to do this…if I need to leave the bunker, I will. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work, as long as you’re in this with me,” you said.

Both your gaze and your will were unwavering. Dean didn’t doubt that you meant every word; that you were willing to jump into the fire with him. And that was just a small fraction of what had made him fall in love with you.

He took your hand, and pressed a lingering kiss to the inside of your wrist.

“I’m with you,” he replied.  

AN: So while it was painful to contemplate both of these scenarios, I hope I did them justice! 🥲

Which ending was your favorite: Sam, or Dean? 😘

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