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#which is why i never read it and never WANTED to read it
dduane · 22 hours
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I just received a copy of a book I've been very much looking forward to by a favorite author, but the quality of the book itself is... not great. Cheap paper, weak binding, even a weird illustration of the main character on the cover that I'm having trouble believing the author approved. Obviously, I don't want to leave a bad review on Amazon or GoodReads or anywhere, as I'm 100% certain the content is as excellent as her other work. But how can I best let the publisher (Baen) know I'm disappointed without threatening to never buy her books again? Because, well, if this is the only option, I'm gonna keep buying them even in my disappointment.
Well, the first thing I thought when I read this was "Wow, I'm really glad I don't have anything in print from Baen at the moment except a couple of anthologized short stories." :)
As for the rest of it, let's take it point by point.
Adding a cut here, because this will run a bit long. Caution: contains auctorial bitching and moaning, painful illustrations of cases in point, and brief advice on how to complain most effectively. (Also links to paintings of cats.)
Cheap paper: This has been an accurate complaint since well before COVID—and it's often been worse since, with supply chain issues also being involved. That said: one way publishers routinely save money on printing books, especially the bigger ones, is by going for thinner/cheaper paper. I remember one of our UK editors going on at great length and with huge annoyance—during one of those late-night convention-bar bitch sessions—over how the only way they could get some really good books published (because Upstairs insisted on reducing the per-copy production costs) was by reducing the paper quality to the point where you could nearly read through it. Sacrificing decent text size(s) also became part of this. Nobody in editorial was happy about the result: but there wasn't much they could do.
Bad bindings: Similar problem. Sewn bindings used to be a thing in paperbacks... but not any more: not for a good while, now. These days, it's all glue. Even hardcovers are showing up glued rather than sewn. Don't get me started. :/ (This is why I so treasure some of the oldest paperbacks I've acquired, which are actually sewn.)
Crap covers: I've had my share of these—though my share of some really good ones, too. And one of the endless frustrations of traditional publishing is that the writer routinely has little or even no influence over what the cover will look like... let alone how much will be spent on it, or (an often-related issue) how good the execution will be.
There are of course exceptions. If you're working at the, well, @neil-gaiman -esque level or similar in publishing, a lot more attention is going to be paid to your thoughts. You may even be able to get "cover veto" written into your contracts, so that if you disapprove, changes will get made. But without actual contractual stipulations, the writer has zero legal recourse or way to withhold approval. (And I bet even Neil has some horror stories.)
The normal workflow looks like this. After a book's purchased, its editor and the art director discuss what it's about and what the cover should look like. The art director then hires an artist and tells them what to do. After that, the artist executes their vision and gets paid. It is incredibly rare for a writer to have any significant input into this process. And as to whether or not they approve of the final result, well... the publisher mostly just shrugs and goes back to eyeing the bottom line, muttering "Who told them they get a vote?"
Now, I've been seriously lucky to occasionally be an exception in this regard. In particular, my editors at Harcourt (when Jane Yolen and Michael Stearns were editing Harcourt's Magic Carpet YA imprint) would ask me what I thought would be a good idea for the next Young Wizards cover, and I'd think about it a bit and send them back a paragraph or so about some core scene. They'd then talk to their art director, and after that send their notes and mine to Cliff Nielsen (who started doing the covers for the hardcover and mass-market paperback editions of the series in the mid-90s) or to Greg Swearingen (who was the artist on the digest-format editions). And the results, by and large, were pretty good. ...I also think affectionately of the UK artist Mick Posen, who insisted on seeing pictures of our cats before painting the covers for the Hodder editions of The Book of Night with Moon and On Her Majesty's Wizardly Service (the UK title for To Visit The Queen).
But this kind of treatment is a courtesy—not even vaguely suggested in the books' contracts, and very much the exception to the rule. And for every writer who's midlist, there are times when the luck runs out. For example: one time I wrote a book that was an AU-Earth-near-future fantasy police procedural, thematically pretty dark—dealing with issues of abuse of megacorporate power, institutionalized bigotry, and (explicitly) attempted genocide. And the cover, done by an artist who's a good friend and some of whose fabulous art hangs in our house, came out looking like this. It was... let's just say "not ideally representative."
So I was glad, when my local workflow allowed it, to recover the current, revised version of the book with something at least a little more apropos. But the original cover's not the artist's fault. He did what the art director told him... as a cover artist must do to get paid, and (ideally) to get hired again. At present, that's how the system works.
...So. You've got a badly-built and -presented book on your hands. How best to make your feelings known in some way that might make a difference down the line? (As you make it plain that you'll keep buying this author's books this way if you must.)
First of all: when (as part of my psych nursing training) we were taught how to complain most effectively, we were told that the first and most basic rule of the art is this:
Only Complain To Someone Who Can Actually Do Something About Your Problem
So I salute your desire not to waste your time taking the issue to the reviews on Amazon, or the pages of Goodreads... because they can't do anything. The odds that anyone from production at Baen is reading the comments there strike me as... well, not infinitesimally small, not being hit-by-a-meteorite-while-in-the-shopping-center-parking-lot small... but really low.
So: write to corporate.
In your place I would go online and rummage around a bit to find out who's on record as the publisher at Baen. I would then write them a letter on paper. And I would lay out the problem pretty much as you laid it out up at the top.
The tone I think I'd choose would be the more-in-sorrow-than-in-anger approach. I'd say, "I write to comment about your recently published book by [X Writer], whose work I love. I have to say, though, that I don't think the cover on [X Book] is terribly representative of the quality of the prose inside. And also, the construction and production quality of the book itself was a disappointment to me because [here spell out why].
"I'd really like to see [X. Writer's] books succeed with you, and I'd like to buy more of them without wondering whether I was going to be disappointed again. But if this is typical of how they're being produced, I'd also be concerned that the state of these books is setting up a situation in which the author's sales will be damaged, and you would stop publishing them... which would really be a shame. Whereas on the other hand, better production quality could keep previous purchasers coming back and buying, not only more books by this author, but books by others whom you publish."
This phrasing, as you'll have seen, walks a bit wide around the issue of your further purchases, while directing attention toward the bottom line... which will routinely be what the publisher's looking at from day to day. And—being, one has to hope, in possession of the wider picture as regards what's going on with their production costs—maybe they can actually do something about it.
Anyway, nothing ventured, nothing gained, yeah? It's worth a try. All you can do is hope for the best.
And finally: please know that I admire your commitment to the author: whoever she is, she's lucky to have you. It's a terrific thing to have readers who'll willing to spend the time to hunt you down, and who're willing not to judge a book by its cover. :)
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monzabee · 2 days
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viva las vegas - mv1 (+18)
masterlist ||
Summary: The one where you and Max celebrate his win in a way you’ve never done before.
Pairing: max verstappen x reader 
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: mentions of alcohol, having sex tipsy but there is consent?, manhandling, unprotected sex (are you even surprised at this point), oral (fem receiving), sex (duh), cursing, cockwarming (oops), minors dni!!
Request: “Hey babe! I’m obsessed with your last Charles piece, I’ve been wanting to read something like that for such a long time and you did it perfectly 😍🥹 I was wondering if I could request kind of the same concept with Max Verstappen? Like he always is pictured as a tough guy and stuff, but when you see him in videos he’s kind of a goof, so I imagine the first time he’s intimate with his gf they’d both laugh and have the sweetest time together” 
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! is this my best work? no but it is something i managed to get done for the first time in like a month so here it is!! finishing this fic was a journey within itself, but i can honestly say that it was also kind fun? also, i saw a picture of max in his suit from vegas and that just inspired this whole thing, so i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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Max is buzzing with life, quite literally, you can feel him practically buzzing the whole time he’s trying to take you back to your hotel room as fast as possible. It’s most likely due to the amount of alcohol the two of you have consumed after the race. Honestly it is pure luck that you found your way back to your room, given your current state, but instead of joining you when you jump on the bed, revelling in its comfort, he chooses to stand at the end of the bed as he watches you with an entertained smile on his face.  
“What?” you ask, a laugh washing through you as you raise yourself on your elbows, “Why are you looking at me like that?”  
He lets his eyes wander over your figure, his smile becoming more boyish as he lets it widen on his face, “You look pretty,” he murmurs, bending down so he can lower himself over your body better, “have I told you how beautiful you looked tonight?” 
“Um, yeah, Maxie,” you giggle as you point out, “you’ve been telling me that the entire night.” Using your hands as support while raising yourself more so that you could be face to face with him, “I think you look pretty too, you know?” 
“Yeah?” Max murmurs, cradling your jaw in one of his hands, his thumb quick to caress the apple of your cheek, which causes you to lean into his touch. “What if I wanted to kiss you, would that be okay?” 
The smile you offer him in return is sweet, the way your eyes seem to shine at the offer of feeling his lips against yours makes his heart beat faster in his chest. “Yes, please.” Your voice is softer, almost comes out as a whisper due to you suddenly feeling out of breath.  
And who is he to deprive his girl? 
He doesn’t waste any time pressing his lips against your awaiting ones, in fact, the movement of his lips are rushed, if not almost desperate. It's as if he can't get enough, as if he's afraid this moment might slip away like sand through his fingers. The taste of alcohol lingers on both your lips, and normally you would be weirded out about it, but you realise it only adds to the intensity of the kiss you’re sharing with Max. His fingers gently tangle in your hair as he deepens the kiss, and you find yourself responding eagerly. You let him take control, mostly because it’s so easy for you to lose yourself in his kiss. He’s lost in it too, if you had to guess, because the way his tongue is fighting over yours for dominance is so different compared to the way Max usually kisses you. You whine at the loss of his lips when he reluctantly pulls away, and if he wasn’t already hard, the sound makes Max’s cock instantly harder. His head is thrown back, eyes closed as he lets out a groan, and he has to stop himself from pulling you in for another kiss. But you clearly have other plans as you drag your lips down towards his jawline, leaving kisses in a random pattern until you reach that one specific point on his neck that absolutely drives him crazy.  
And you know it’s only a matter of time until he stops you, again, as he has done for the past whatever months of your relationship. It’s not that you are not attracted to each other, because the attraction is as clear as day, and you have done stuff – not sex, but stuff. You’re not sure Max does that, but you also don’t want to be the one who pressures him into having sex with you if he doesn’t want to. Unbeknownst to you, the same goes for Max, who thinks you’re not ready to have sex with him and wants your first time together to be as special as possible.  
So no, you’re not surprised as he gently peals himself from you, causing you to whine again at the loss of him, but instead he gives you a small kiss on the forehead as he mumbles, “Why don’t you take a shower? We’ll go to bed after that.”  
“Is that your way of telling me I smell?” You ask in a playful tone, and he responds to you with a roll of his eyes. “What if I don’t want to go to sleep?”  
“No?” He asks, actively searching your expression for any sign of discomfort or reluctance. “We’ve had a long day, are you sure you don’t want to get some sleep?” The look you give him in return for his question is enough, and he knows this, but he also wants to actually hear the words, so he points, “Use your words, liefje.” 
A puff of breath leaves your lips in annoyance, but, nonetheless, you give him the best puppy dog eyes you can muster as you whine, “Please Maxie, you know what I want.”  
“Do I?” He muses, pulling you onto his lap as he ghosts his lips across your jaw. “I don’t know what you mean.”  
“Maxie,” you drag out his name, whining as your attempt at rolling your hips against his thighs don’t work. “You are being mean.”  
“Oh, baby,” he mockingly copies your pout, “I’m sorry. Can I apologise with a kiss?” To make his point, he presses a couple of soft kisses along your jawline.  
“Will you kiss me the way I like?” You ask, slightly out of breath, but his agreement that comes in the form of a hum makes you smile mischievously. His lips trail more kisses towards the neckline of your dress, and eventually through the valley between your breasts that is exposed by the lack of fabric. And you have every intention to let him have his way with you, you really do – after all, he won another great race. But a part of you also knows that making him suffer, even if just a little bit, in the process is so much more fun. So, just as he’s about to free of your breasts from the bustier of your dress, you quickly move away, slipping from his hands, trying your hardest not to laugh at the bewildered expression on his face. “On second thought, I think I’m going to take that shower after all.”  
“I—what?” Max mumbles, his slightly swollen lips pulled in a pout, and you can’t help but give him a small kiss.  
“I’ll see you after my shower, Max Emilian.” Sauntering over to the bathroom, you make sure to add an extra sway to your hips – and the sigh that Max leaves cause the smirk on your face to grow. 
It’s pure torture for Max to wait until you come out of the shower. Not that he doesn’t think about just joining you, especially after the show you just put on, but that would be giving into what you want – and though Max is a generous lover, he is also stubborn. He is more than happy to give you what you want, as long as it is on his terms. And so, he waits patiently, until you come out of the bathroom, a robe draped over your body, and he can’t help himself but let his eyes roam over your body.  
“How was your shower?” Max asks, trying to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible, a wolfish grin curving up on his lips. He rests his hands behind his head, relaxing onto the pillows behind him. He watches you give him a shrug, the soft-looking material sliding of your shoulder slightly as you collect your hair onto your shoulder. “Are you giving me the silent treatment, pretty girl?” 
There’s a coy smile on your face as you shake your head, once, twice, as your teeth press down on your bottom lip. Max wants nothing more than to release your lip, pull you into his lap and have his way with you, but no. No, because Max is nothing if not disciplined. “Come here,” he asks, straightening up in his place. You, being the ever-loving girlfriend you are, oblige his request. “That is a nice robe,” he murmurs, tilting his head as he grabs the towelette belt with the tips of his finger, “is it as soft as it looks?” 
“Mhm-hm,” you nod, “do you want to feel it?” 
“Do I want to feel it?” Max muses, “Sure.” His arms wrap around your middle so quickly that you don’t realise he’s pulling you into his lap at first. But he positions you with your legs on the either side of his. “You’re right, liefje, it is very soft.” His hands roam on your body over the soft material, but soon enough, his hands dipping underneath it to feel your skin. His eyebrows shoot upwards, a mischievous grin spreading on his lips, “No underwear?” 
“Well, I just came out of the shower, Maxie.” You give him an innocent look, shrugging once against as you rest your hands against his shirt-clad chest. “The shower pressure was great, you should’ve joined me.”  
He lets out a noncommittal hum, his hands roaming on your bare skin, revelling in the softness. “I’ll have to take your word for it.” He’s methodical as he slightly shifts you in his lap, tearing a gasp from the back of your throat. That gets a satisfied smile from him, “Something wrong?” 
“N-no,” you mumble, shifting again to get the same feeling, but his hands still you in your place. “Maxie,” you whine, silently pleading with your eyes.  
“Am I being mean again?” He asks, attentive eyes fixed on you, “I would offer to make it up to you with a kiss, but you seem to find ways to evade me when I do.”  
“No,” you whine again, lips pouted in disagreement. “I promise I won’t this time.”  
His eyebrows shoot up again with amusement, “Oh, yeah? Shall we test that theory, pretty girl?” The smile you give him is shy, but the way you nod is nothing short of coy. With a satisfied sound leaving his lips, he quickly presses his lips against yours. You sigh into the kiss, immediately, when you feel him deepening the kiss, more than happy to surrender yourself to him and let Max take the lead. Though, that doesn’t necessarily stop you from attempting to relieve the pressure between your legs by rolling your hips against his thighs. Your efforts, however, prove to be useless as he stops the movement before you can actually relieve any of it. He slowly pulls away, pushes a stray piece of wet hair behind your ear and tuts – condescendingly, you might add – “Slow down, liefje, I think I’ve had enough speed for one day.”  
Groaning at his words, “But Maxie,” you whine, dragging out his name as you let your hands wander on his chest over his shirt and receive a warning look from him in return, “I promise I’ll be good, please just fuck me.”  
“Baby,” he coos, his fingers working quickly to unfasten the belt of your robe and push the offending clothing off your shoulders, “I literally just told you to be patient, no?” 
You ignore the raised eyebrow, the look of faux-disappointment, and even the way his fingers grab your waist because you’re too busy trying to get him out of his shirt, suddenly feeling too exposed as you sit on his lap naked. “Please,” you whisper against his skin, peppering kisses across the column of his throat as your hands make their way inside his shirt, “I’ll be patient next time.”  
“I’m suddenly realising that I spoil you very much,” Max mumbles, pulling his head back to get a look at you.  
Pulling back as well you give him a mischievous grin, “Maybe, but you’ll give me what I want this time as well.”  
“Yeah?” He asks, “Why?” 
“Because I think I’m getting your pants very messy right now.”  
Max can’t help the groan that escapes past his lips, his eyes quickly following yours as he takes in the ‘damage’ your wetness has caused on his jeans. He takes a moment to assess the damage, drags his eyes up to look at you when he notices the way your eyes stay fixed down, as your nervously bite down on your lower lip. He loses all the composure he managed to muster up, and he finally gives in, quickly pushing you off him onto the pillows on the bed. The squeal that leaves you is followed by a string of giggles that leave your lips, and when Max looks at you, he takes in the darker look in your widened eyes.  
“I was going to be patient; I can’t believe you’re making me not be patient.” He mumbles, taking off his shirt and the rest of his clothes before starting to leave kisses on your feverish skin as he slides down your body and places himself between your thighs.  
You open your legs wider to accommodate his body, a breathy laugh escaping past your lips. “You mean, impatient?” 
That earns you a nip on your upper thigh and a warning look, but instead of commenting on your quip, he lowers his face, keeps his eyes locked to yours and gets to work. And it’s not that you and Max haven’t done stuff – because it’s the opposite; although you haven’t had sex, it’s safe to say that the two you have explored every option bordering on sex. But how he’s acting right now is much different than the way how he is usually with you. His movements are almost rushed, and the way he drags his tongue through your folds is just enough for your eyes to roll back as your moans fill the room.  
Normally, he would be extra careful and make sure he is being gentle with you; but right now, he’s just trying to savour you before he loses all his composure. A choppy gasp leaves you as you feel his fingers enter you – two at first, and the way he pumps them in and out of you makes breathing harder. The speed of his fingers matches his tongue, and for a moment, you think you’re going to pass out. With his free hand, he blocks any type of movement you try with your hips; his palm sneakily presses down on your lower stomach to keep you in your place, but it’s jokes on him because if anything, it just makes you feel even better, and you’re not shy to let him know just how much he’s making you feel good with your moans.  
“Max,” you say his name in a breathy whimper, fingers threading through his hair to guide him, “fuck, I’m so close.” You can practically feel the way his lips curl up, and suddenly, everything about his actions gets faster. His fingers are pistoning in and out of you in an unforgiving pace, in sync with his tongue that works your clit just the same. So, it’s no surprise when you find yourself coming on his tongue as his name leaves your lips for the umpteenth time like a prayer.
The smirk he gives you when he pulls himself from between your legs is sinful – he looks absolutely debauched with the way his lips glisten with your release, and he wastes no time before coming up, and capturing your lips in yet another bruising kiss. But this time, you taste yourself on his tongue and this time it makes you lose the whatever little resolve you’ve had left. So, you hook your leg around his thigh to push him next to you on the bed as you practically throw him next to you on the bed.  
Though he has other plans.   Of course.  
So, as you’re trying to fight the seventy-kilogram-something driver into staying under you on the bed, he has no problem manhandling you into rolling on your side. And as you’re pressed flush against his chest, you turn your head backwards to breathlessly whisper, “You promised, Max.”  
“And I am a man of my word, aren’t I?” He retorts, his hand that is splayed on your thigh positions it so that it’s bent towards your stomach, “Just needed to get you ready.” You can’t help the guttural moan that escapes you when you feel him pressing the tip of his cock into your entrance. The pleading look you give him must’ve worked, because this time it’s his turn to let out a guttural moan as he pushes himself into you. There is no sign of his mood from mere moments ago as you feel his hands caress your bare hip, an entitled smirk on his lips as he asks, “Out of breath?” 
“Fuck you,” your response comes out as a breathy laugh as you’re pushing your hips closer to his to take him deeper.  
“Lifje, you are fucking me.” Max giggles into the crook of your neck as he pushes himself in fully. You would be furious with him if it didn’t make you laugh also, and although the laughing decrease, the smiles remain on both your faces as he starts slowly moving his hips. 
It’s sweet, unbelievably sweet, considering the sexual tension that was in the room an hour ago, but the way Max is fucking you can only be described as sweet. His hands caress every part of your body that he can reach – your thighs, to your hips, to your stomach, to your chest and then wraps one of his hands around your throat; not in a way that is rough, but in a way that he can still keep you still as he captures your lips for another kiss. The movement of his hips is languid, almost lazy as drive into you, but he still manages to hit all the spots along the way. Breathy chuckles are exchanged when he pulls away for you to organise your breathing, but your smiles still stay on, even when he raises your bent leg and rests his on his own leg. The new angle makes your moans get louder, your hips to move against his faster, and you can feel your orgasm approach speedily.  
But Max is so in tune with your body that he knows what’s coming (or rather who) before you get a chance to actually have to say anything. His hand slides down your body so that he can press his fingers to your clit and move them in tight circles, and as if it was possible, his you can suddenly feel him fucking you even deeper. “You are going to come for me pretty girl, I can feel it.” He murmurs into your skin, and all you can offer as an answer is a nod and an affirmative whimper as you squeeze your eyes shut. “Come on, give it to me, come on my cock.” And though he is not the most verbal person to ever exist, except for when he’s in the mood to be an absolute yapper, his words urge you to let go of the feeling that has been starting to brew in your stomach.  
Your hips start moving to meet his in choppy movements as you seek any and all kinds of pleasure to reach your high, and he meets your every move with increasing intensity of his own. “Max, yes!” Your exclamation hits his ears as he hits that one particular spot, making you instantly become lax in his arms as he guides you through your orgasm. His name spills out from your lips in constant repetition, “So good, so good,” you keep mumbling in breathless whimpers, trying to press yourself further into his body.  
With all things considered, it doesn’t take Max long to reach his own high following your own, since you insistently move your hips in a way that makes you take his cock even deeper when he’s helping you ride your orgasm. So, when you hear him groaning your name in the crook of your neck and feel him spilling himself into you. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he croaks out, holding your hips in place with his hands splayed on your feverish skin. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?” 
“How am I supposed to know, dummy?” You ask, throwing your head back to get a good look of his dishevelled state, “Why do you look so good after mind blowing sex?” 
“I don’t know,” he shrugs, pulling you with him as he lets himself fall back on the bed, “genetics?” 
“Mhm,” you murmur, trying to find a comfortable position on his chest as he is still inside you, “remind me to send your mother a flower arrangement when we get back, or something.” 
A deep blush covers his cheeks, as if he hasn’t been fucking you for the past hour or so, as he stammers, “I– I mean, yeah.” This time, it’s your turn to give a non-committal hum, followed by a satisfied sigh as you snuggle him closer and close your eyes. “Just go to sleep, baby, we can deal with it in the morning.” 
“’Mkay,” you mumble, feeling his hand draw soothing circles on your back. “But you’re still gonna fuck me tomorrow, right?” 
This gets another loud laugh from the driver laying down under you, and both of you know that he’s going to do just that when you wake up in the morning. 
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iholdwhatican · 3 days
Text
tension
part two to reunions - must read part 1 first!
pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig
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length: 3.2k
author's note: this took wayyyy too long for me to do yall, i'm so sorry. these two have a tight hold on me and i'm in the trenches. i've got some good stuff lined up tho, and i'm super excited to write it heeheehee :) also smut in the future will be much longer and much more detailed, just fyi
tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension ; sugar mommy y/n? ; unapologetic flirting with your bff's wife at his birthday party
warnings: sexual content, p in v, not super detailed but still there!
summary: the stressful night of the birthday party continues, and you find yourself pinging between art and patrick like a tennis ball. how the hell did you get yourself into this?
originally posted by iholdwhatican
It took four minutes and 36 seconds of Art and Patrick being alone outside before the anxiety became too much. Your dress was too tight against your skin and the chatter of the guests rattled in your skull. Your mind replayed the anger on Art’s face over and over, convinced that he’d direct it at you the moment he came back in. And if you were being honest, you couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. 
Your blood boiled with the ferocity of it, and an ache in your core begged for another taste. 
Another three minutes and 18 seconds passed while you downed half of your second glass of wine. You made conversation with a few people who caught your eye, making sure all the food and drink were up to par. Not that you really could care about that right now. Your mind was a jumble of thoughts about the two men on the balcony. 
Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick
“You look like you’re gonna puke.” 
For the second time that night, Patrick Zweig’s voice made you jump. 
You looked at him, catching sight of that damned smirk that made your stomach flip, and furrowed your brows. One quick scan of the room came up empty for your husband, forcing the anxiety in your chest to worsen. 
“Where’s Art?” You asked, not missing the way your voice wobbled slightly. 
“Relax.” Patrick responded, resting a hand on your shoulder, “He went to the kitchen, I think. I didn’t kill him. And he didn’t run for the hills either.” 
You decided not to comment on how easily he’d read your worries without you saying anything. For some reason, you were an open book to him. 
A deep sigh left you. You licked your lips anxiously- which immediately caused Patrick’s eyes to fall on your mouth. 
“What happened out there?” 
The man gave you a shrug, letting his hand fall back to his side, “Nothing, really. We just talked for a bit. He told me I could stay, as long as I stopped flirting with you.” 
“So does that mean you’re going to stop?” The idea made you slightly unhappy, which in turn filled you with guilt. Why were you so excited by his flirtations when you had a wonderful, loving husband who treated you like a queen? 
But then Patrick grinned, and you knew the answer before he said it, “Well, I’ve never been one to do what I’m told.” 
A smile grew over your lips, and you tried to hide it with an eye roll, “Why don’t you mingle? Try some food. I’m going to find my husband.” 
He didn’t miss the enunciation you put on ‘my husband’, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened as you said it. You didn’t give it time to linger, instead turning away and moving towards the kitchen. 
You knew the look Patrick had in his eyes. You’d seen it a dozen times in Art’s. On the court, over a board game, in all sorts of scenarios. And every time, even now, the look sent a chill down your spine. 
That expression was clear, resolute competition. 
Just as Patrick had said, you found Art in the kitchen. With his back to you, you had a perfect view of his tense shoulders and hanging head as he poured himself a glass of water. He was all wound up, and you knew it was your fault. Now it was your responsibility to fix it. 
You stepped up behind him, sliding a hand between his shoulder blades. He didn’t hesitate to lean into the touch, a subconscious reaction. He knew it was you just by the feel of your hand on him. And, even if he might be furious, he still found comfort in it. 
“Hey…” You breathed, leaning to the side to meet his gaze. Art looked at you over his shoulder, a half-smile quirking his lips up, “How are you doing?” 
“Hey.” He responded, turning and sliding his hands over your hips. Your chest pressed against his as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your hairline. Then he just lingered there, breathing in your smell, “I honestly don’t know. I just- it was so weird to see him.” 
“Yeah, of course it was.” Your words reached him in a soft, comforting tone. The guilt of putting your perfect, doting husband in this situation was enough to make you feel like you had barbed wire around your neck. You had to pay penance- somehow. You rubbed your hand in circles over his back, “I’m sorry, sundrop. I don’t know what I was thinking when I invited him.” 
Sundrop. A nickname that went way back to the early days of your relationship. Art was an energetic puppy dog with a halo of golden curls and a smile that made your insides feel hot. He was what you pictured a personification of the sun to be, hence the pet name. He pretended not to like it, but his eyes always sparkled a certain way when you said it. 
Art pulled his head away to peer down into your eyes, his own pensive and confused, “No, baby, don’t be sorry. It was a great fucking surprise. Just… a surprise.” 
You shook your head. He was so fucking good to you, “You’re allowed to be mad at me.” 
“Mad? At you?” In one quick motion, he picked you up and set you on the counter. Your legs opened for him without hesitation, allowing him to slot right in between them, “I don’t think that’s possible.”
You fought the blush rising in your cheeks and rolled your eyes, “You think too highly of me.” 
“No. Never.” He replied instantly. He kissed your chin. Then your jaw. Then your neck. Then down your throat, “As far as I’m concerned, you’re God.” 
“Art-” You argued, though you weren’t sure what for. You tilted your neck back and offered yourself up to him. 
“I could spend my life on my knees for you and be happy.” His words were muffled as he mouthed at your neck, sending shivers down your spine. This, combined with the kiss from earlier, was making you ache with need. You were half-tempted to end the party early and take your pretty husband to bed. 
You bit your lip when he ran his tongue over a sensitive spot above your collarbone. If he wasn’t in between them, you’d be squeezing your thighs together. 
When Art pulled away, his eyes had darkened. Dilated pupils and heavy breaths told you all you needed to know. He was just as fucking horny as you were right now. His hands held your hips tighter. 
“Do you think we’d be left alone long enough for me to show you how much I mean it?” He asked. It was almost as if he were begging. As if he couldn’t bear the idea of doing anything other than dropping to his knees and devouring you. 
And God, when he looked at you like that, you had no choice but to say yes. 
Unfortunately, fate intervened, and you were kept from making a scene at your husband’s birthday party. 
“Hey, you two, quit snogging and come entertain us!” One of Art’s tennis friends called, sticking their head into the kitchen. The big grin on their face told you it was just teasing, but you still felt your face burning with embarrassment. 
“It’s my birthday, let me do what I want.” Art jeered right back, lifting you off the counter and back onto your own two feet. You laughed airily at the comment, feeling more light-headed than anything. 
Before following his friend back into the action, he whispered a quick, “Later, okay?” to you. And then he left you standing in the kitchen- touch-starved, foggy-headed, and excruciatingly aroused. 
It was then that you realized you didn’t even get to ask him what happened with Patrick.
Upon re-entering the party, you found yourself taking note of two things- or rather, two people. One, Art- conversing with some friends from the foundation with a big grin on his face. Two, Patrick- having his fill of finger foods from the refreshment table. He was alone. And though you tried to fight it, you found yourself gravitating towards him. 
“Do they not have food where you’re from?” You teased, falling into place at his side. Your gaze slid over the spread before flicking up to his face. 
You’d caught him mid-bite, and he attempted to swallow quickly and regain his composure. Something warmed slightly in your chest. Endearing. 
“Well, I’m kinda… in between places right now.” He explained, tongue stuck in his cheek to clear out residual bits of food, “And there’s never stuff as good as this.” 
You let the compliment slide away, instead focusing on his more troubling response, “Are you homeless?” 
“What? No.” He chuckled, as if the question were preposterous, “I go all over for tennis. It’s just easier to stay on the move.” 
You raised an eyebrow, “And on off-season?” 
Something in his expression darkened, only for a moment, and then he was back to cocky smiles and overwhelming confidence, “I’m too busy to care about that. And what’s it matter to you, anyway?” 
“I’d like to think I’m a good person.” You said, plucking a snack off the table and popping it into your mouth. You chewed it halfway before continuing, “And a good person worries if they think someone they care about isn’t doing well.” 
Patrick grinned at you for five long seconds. And it took him actually saying the words to realize where you’d slipped up. 
“You care about me?” 
Shit. You had not meant to say that. Why was this man so damn good at getting every little thought in your head to spill out of your mouth? 
“If caring about you means I don’t want you sleeping under a bridge somewhere, then sure.” 
“Okay, I would never let it get that far-” 
“I wanna help.” 
He blinked, “Help how?” Briefly, very briefly, you thought of your bed. Your comfortable, spacious bed, perfect for three individuals. You could picture it- you, safe and sound and nestled between the two men. Art, your lovely, obedient husband on one side, letting himself love and be loved. And Patrick on the other side, nice and cozy with a roof over his head and a full belly. 
The image flashed in an instant, and you were left with hollow, heavy guilt. You swallowed. 
“How much do you need?” 
“Huh?” You rolled your eyes at him, “How much money do you need? To keep you afloat for the next little while. And I’ll send you home tonight with leftovers.” 
Patrick let the words wash over him, slowly smiling as they did. He took a step towards you, close enough that one tiny shove would have your bodies pressed together. You could smell him, all sweat and cigarettes and woodsy cologne that made your head spin. You’d been wound up all night, and this was absolutely not helping. 
“You gonna write me a check? Use your hard-earned money to get a practical stranger a hotel for a couple nights?” He murmured, heavy on the charm, “What would your husband think?” 
He knew he’d gotten under your skin. He knew what he was doing. He was fucking enjoying this. 
You tried to hold your ground, looking up at him through your lashes, “It’s his money, actually. He makes sure I never have to work unless I want to.” 
“Guess he treats you pretty well. And look how you’re taking advantage of it.” His hand lay on the table next to yours, his fingertips nearly brushing the skin of your wrist. How bad would it be if you closed the gap? 
You bit your lip, “You’re allowed to turn me down.” 
“I don’t think I’d ever turn you down, Mrs. Donaldson.” 
Something about that title, something about the way he said it, made your blood run hot and cold at the same time. It reminded you of the myths of sirens. Beautiful monsters of the sea that used their voices to bring others to their demise. Talking to Patrick had that same type of allure, and the sense of danger. 
“Then tell me what you need.” 
“What do you think I need?” 
Oh, you could think of a few things. But you could also feel a pair of eyes on you, and you knew exactly who they belonged to. Part of you wanted to tempt him, see if you could get another reaction like out on the balcony. However, you quickly shot the idea down. Not right now, not in the middle of a crowded party.
Lips curving into an innocent smile, you pushed yourself a step back from him, “I think you need a nice place to sleep. And a few good meals. And maybe a hug.” 
The sudden switch-up took Patrick by surprise, but he handled it smoothly and responded only a beat later, “You’re offering?” 
“At least for the first two.” You didn’t know what you’d do if you were in his arms. With the way you were feeling now, with two glasses of wine in your system, your boundaries were getting blurrier and blurrier. How humiliating. 
His bottom lip jutted out into a pout. Which unfortunately dragged your gaze right down to his mouth. It took you a moment too long to meet his eyes again. 
“What, we can’t hug? Don’t you consider me a friend?” 
“I do.” You shrugged, tucking loose hair behind your ear, “Maybe I’m just not a touchy person.” 
A lie. You knew it, and you could tell by the look on his face that he knew it too.
“Yeah.” He smirked, sounding the opposite of sincere, “Art’s wife isn’t a touchy person. Sure.” 
You needed a cold shower. Or to go have some one-on-one time with your vibrator. Or maybe move to the seaside and spend your days going mad in a lighthouse. You weren’t sure. All you knew was how increasingly hot you were feeling. 
“Speaking of Art, go talk to him. Try to make amends. Meet some of his friends.” You suggested, glancing over at your husband. He wasn’t watching you anymore, at least not straight on. But he had a radar when it came to you, and he was very diligent in keeping tabs. No matter what.
“You trying to get rid of me?” Patrick asked lightly. No heat behind the words. 
“Oh, yes.” You admitted, placing your hands on his shoulders and pointing him towards Art, “Find me again before you leave and I’ll have your check.” 
“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned at you over his shoulder, sending a wink before sauntering off. 
Finally, you felt like you could actually get a breath in your lungs. 
The party had ended. Guests went home, Patrick got his check and headed to a hotel you recommended, and you and your partner left all the cleanup for the morning. You barely gave it a second glance as you went up to bed with him, your hand held tightly in his. 
Art fucked you like a starving man that night. You barely got into the room before his lips were plastered on your skin, his hands unzipping your dress with quick precision. He was usually much more reserved, but something about tonight had made him ravenous. And he wasn’t the only one.
You ended up on his lap; bare chests pressed together, skin sweaty and breaths heavy as you rolled your hips into him. His hands clutched your thighs, keeping you close, fingers pressing into the flesh. You pulled on his hair and his head immediately fell back. As if he were a puppet for you to position and use however you wanted. His eyes looked up at you with a fire in them you’d never seen before, but the adoration, the reverence, was all too familiar. 
Your name fell from his lips over and over again like a prayer. The single word weaved with threads of devotion, possessiveness, desire. A song joined in chorus by whatever nonsensical phrase entered his head. I love you, so perfect, all mine, please, please, please. 
He was claiming you. Marking his territory in his own special way. It didn’t matter that Patrick wasn’t here to see it, or that he probably would never even know. As long as Art could tell himself that you were his, he’d be okay. Jealousy was a good look on him. 
You could feel your core tighten with each and every movement of his hips against you. You weren’t going to last much longer. But by the look in your husband’s eyes, neither was he. 
Parted lips claimed yours in a messy kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth and exploring every open space. Then you were being flipped over; back pressed into the mattress as Art rocked into you with reckless abandon. He intertwined his fingers with yours and pinned your hands above your head without ever breaking the kiss. 
You lasted about thirty seconds. Finally, the tension in you snapped and your orgasm washed over you in waves, leaving you limp and trembling. Art finished only a moment later. You could feel him pulsing inside of you as the aftershocks slowly faded away. The room reeked of sweat and sex and your head was spinning. 
Art, your precious, dutiful man, rested his head on your chest as he attempted to catch his breath. You could feel the tickle of his lips kissing your skin, the soft squeeze of his hands on your hips. You ran a hand through his damp hair, fingers massaging his scalp. 
“I love you.” He murmured against your ribs, right over your thundering heart. He said it like he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed, like he didn’t believe you were here, that you were his. 
Dark hair and cigarette smoke flashed through your mind. Almost-touching hands and paper checks. 
“I love you.” You responded, kissing his hairline, “Happy Birthday, baby.” 
The only response you got was a tired, happy sound and another kiss to your collarbone. A quick adjustment later and the two of you were tucked under the blankets, your head on Art’s chest and his arm around you. Neither of you cared enough to clean yourselves up or to put pajamas on. Art was already softly snoring next to you, and you could feel your eyelids getting heavy.
As you listened to the baddump of his heart, a strange thought flitted through your mind. You’d just had the best sex of your life, and it was because of Patrick. You weren’t the only one who’d been thinking of him while in the throes of passion. The notion made something strange twinge in your gut. 
And then, like he’d somehow read your mind, your phone lit up with a text. 
Patrick Zweig: You free for lunch tomorrow?
***
Taglist: 
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@yesimwriting
@1989tvcore 
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literaryavenger · 2 days
Text
You Were My Sunshine
Summary: Once a year you disappear for a whole day. Nobody knows where you go or what you do, but the team has learned to let you have your privacy. This year though, Bucky's curiosity gets the better of him and he follows you.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of death. Grief. Some angst. Fluff. No mentions of Y/N.
Word Count: 3K
A/N: I realize this is a little heavy and you absolutely don't need to read it. This one's mostly for me, but I thought why not post it and let Bucky comfort other people, if you need it. As always, my inbox is always open if you want to even just chat. I hope someone likes this. Also, I promise the requests are coming, a little slowly but they're coming. I'm on vacation for two weeks so I'll spend the time writing, probably.
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“Have a good day.” Steve calls after you as you pass the kitchen.
You stop in front of the door to smile at Steve and wave at the team as they all have breakfast together before you keep making your way to the elevator that will take you to the parking garage.
“So, we’re really just accepting this?” Bucky asks the team when the elevators close behind you and he’s sure you can’t hear him.
“Yes, Buck.” Steve says firmly.
“But-” Bucky’s protests are cut off by Tony.
“She’s entitled to her privacy.” He says firmly. “Just let it go, Frosty.”
Bucky ignores the nickname and looks around the team, searching for anyone that might have his back, but nobody else seems to be too invested in your day. Bucky gets up with a huff and makes his way to the training room, resigned that he has to let you be.
You’ve always been an open person, you’re always there for everybody that needs you and you’re not afraid to talk about anything with anybody.
Your life is an open book.
Which is precisely why it drives Bucky crazy that, once a year, you disappear for an entire day and nobody knows where you go or what you do.
You disable all your communication devices, the tracking in your car and you don’t use credit cards anywhere. 
It’s like you cease to exist for a day, leaving no trace that you were anywhere.
At least that’s how the team sees it. 
They’ve all tried to figure out where you go, but that’s the only subject that you never talk about and, every time anyone asks you about it, your answer is always the same:
Don’t worry about it.
After so many years, the whole team has decided to listen to you and stopped worrying about it. 
Everyone except Bucky.
It’s not like you’re that close with him, but he considers you his friend and he trusts you, so it irks him that you have this huge secret that nobody knows anything about.
Needless to say, he worries about it a lot.
That’s why right now he finds himself tip toeing down to the garage. He sees you get into your car and drive away and, without even thinking about it, he jumps on his bike and follows you.
He knows this is wrong, he knows he shouldn’t follow you, that you’re allowed to have your secrets. But he can’t help himself when it comes to you. You make him lose control, you make him go insane. 
He just needs you. to know.
So he follows you, as discreetly as only a trained assassin knows how. He follows you into the city and stops a few cars away when you park in front of a secondhand bookstore. Bucky knows that shop all too well, it’s one of his favorite places to visit when he’s in the city.
He waits until you disappear behind a shelf before going in, watching you as you browse the books. It looks to Bucky like you’re looking for a particular book, when you find it, he can see your face lighting up.
You turn the book to look at the back cover and Bucky can read the title very clearly. ‘Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince’, one of your favorite books. Bucky knows that because he’s talked about it with you for hours, along with all the other books of the series and the Lord of the Rings books, Bucky’s favorites.
You chat amicably with the older guy that owns the shop while you pay for your book and then leave, getting back into your car with Bucky still on your tail.
Next you go to a small bakery and buy a coffee and a cupcake. Thankfully for Bucky you’re too distracted by talking with the nice, old lady that owns the place to notice him buying his own coffee.
He follows you again as you cross the street to the park in front of the bakery and walk until you find a secluded spot. You sit down against a tree and continue peacefully reading your book under the summer sun while sipping your iced coffee.
Bucky sits on a bench nearby where he has a visual on you, but you can’t really see him unless you were really looking for him. But you’re so engrossed in reading that Bucky’s sure he could sit next to you and you wouldn’t even realize it.
He knows you get like that when you’re reading something that captures your attention, and the Harry Potter books always do, no matter how many times you’ve read them already.
Bucky always thought you looked so cute while reading. You make no attempt to hide your reactions and it amuses him. So he spends the next few hours just watching you read, watching your beautiful face shining in the sunlight as you frown and snort and laugh and pout as your eyes dart around the pages.
It’s actually relaxing, he thinks to himself. Is this what you do every year? Take a whole day just to read without the chaos of the Compound and nobody to bother you?
But why would you be so secretive about this? Reading for hours with a cup of coffee is something you’d done countless times in your room, on the roof, in the backyard of the Compound or even in the common room, never really bothered by the noise the team makes when you’re so into the words you’re reading.
So why do it in secret?
After a few hours, around lunch time, you finally come out of the book’s trance and gather your things before getting up.
Bucky frowns when you don’t get back into your car and follows you as you walk to a small family owned Italian restaurant that Bucky’s never been to but always wanted to try. He discreetly follows you in and takes a table in the back where you can’t see him.
He watches you interact with the owner, the waiter and even the cook comes out to talk to you. It’s clear that they all know you and it seems to Bucky like you’re pretty close to them even though he’s never even heard you mention this place before. When you’re done eating, Bucky sees you playfully fight with the owner that doesn’t want to let you pay so you leave a generous tip that amounts to more than your check is and the owner chuckles to himself when you wink as you walk out.
After lunch, which Bucky has to admit was pretty good, he follows you to a flower shop a couple of doors down and he’s surprised to see the owner greeting you like old friends. It looks like she was already anticipating your arrival, a bouquet of blue roses already on the counter and ready to go when you arrive. You chat with the older woman for a few minutes before paying and leaving the flower shop to go to your car.
It’s clear to Bucky by now that you obviously have a routine on your secret day, and everyone you see on this day knows it.
So why don’t the Avengers? 
You looked so comfortable with all the people you’ve met today, Bucky can’t help but think that maybe you don’t feel like you belong on the team.
You drive until you arrive at your destination and Bucky is both surprised and confused when you park in the parking lot of a cemetery, get out of your car and enter it.
He subtly follows you in, watching you walk past a few graves and it looks to him like you know your way around by how effortlessly you walk without needing to check the names, stopping at one almost at the end of the row you were in while Bucky keeps his distance, always making sure to stay out of sight.
He sees you take a deep breath before kneeling in front of the grave and putting down the bouquet of flowers in front of it.
“Hi, mom…” You wipe the dirt off the tombstone and tidy the flowers in front of it with what Bucky’s sure it’s a forced smile. “Happy birthday.”
You take out the cupcake you bought that Bucky now realizes you hadn’t eaten yet and he sees you put a small red birthday candle on it and light it, then you just look at it for a few seconds before you sigh and blow it out.
“So…” You say quietly, looking back at the tombstone and Bucky can see a tear falling down your cheek.
A piece of Bucky's heart breaks seeing you so vulnerable and hurting like this, but he stays put no matter how much he wants to be at your side right now.
Bucky stands there in complete silence, hearing everything you say, hanging on to every word. He hears you talk about everything that happened in the past year, he listens to you talk about missions and parties and holidays. He hears you talk about the whole team and his heart flutters a little when you mention his name too.
You talk for a while and, after he assumes you run out of new things to say, he sees you taking out the book you just bought today.
“So, this year we finally got to the half-blood prince.” You say with a small smile. “It’s our favorite, hadn’t read it in a while.”
Bucky sees you open it and go to the page you left the bookmark in.
“It took me longer than I thought to find your favorite quote, I have to admit.” You say with a small chuckle. “It’s like 400 pages in, don’t judge me.” 
Bucky chuckles quietly at your playfulness, even in this situation. He can’t help but find you adorable.
“It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.” You read the quote before closing the book and looking back at the grave. “That’s what you told me when I was scared of the dark…” You say quietly with a smile.
“And that’s what you told me before you…” You trail off, not being able to finish your sentence as tears start streaming down your cheeks but Bucky has a pretty good idea where you were going.
That's what she told you before she died, so you wouldn't be scared.
He’s more than surprised that he didn’t know your mother died, and he’s pretty sure the rest of the team doesn’t know either.
Admittedly, families are a very touchy subject for the Avengers.
But Bucky’s even more surprised to see you breaking down, something you’ve never done before. You’re cheery, you’re bubbly, you’re everyone’s little ray of sunshine.
And it breaks Bucky’s heart to know you’ve been falling apart when you’re by yourself all these years.
“I’m sorry I only come here once a year, I just…” You start, so quietly that Bucky’s glad he has enhanced hearing otherwise he's sure he wouldn't be able to hear you. “I miss you so much and I can’t… I can’t bear this.”
He sees you running your fingers gently over the tombstone as you take a deep, shaky breath, but you can’t stop crying.
“I’m trying to be the person you loved…” You say after a moment of silence. “Your little ray of sunshine.” You chuckle softly through the tears.
It makes sense to Bucky now why you always try to be there for everyone else. It’s how you’ve always been, apparently. Always making sure no one feels alone because deep down you feel the most alone, and you don’t want anyone else to feel that way.
You are my sunshine
Bucky’s thoughts get interrupted when he hears you quietly starting to sing. 
My only sunshine
Bucky knows this song. It’s a lullaby that he’s heard you sing once before.
Clint’s family visited him at the Compound and you offered to watch his kids so he and his wife could have a date night.
You probably didn’t realize he heard you, you probably thought you were alone and it’s not like he was spying on you. He just happened to pass by when you were in Clint’s room, trying to get the three kids to sleep by singing to them.
You make me happy, when skies are gray 
You take a breath before continuing but your voice wavers a little. 
You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you
Bucky can see you’re having trouble getting the words out, your voice almost breaking.
Please don’t take… My sunshine… Away
Before you can even get the last word out, you break down completely, burying your face in your hands while sobbing.
Bucky feels his heart break as he takes in your pain. He wishes there was some clear and simple solution to making this all better for you, but there's always been so much he doesn't understand about complex emotions like these. 
Right now, as he's watching how broken you are, though, he knows that he doesn't even care about understanding. He just wants to comfort you, to try and make it better...
Bucky comes to rest beside you, he kneels down to your level and places his hand gently on your shoulder. “Hey…” He says quietly.
His presence startles you and you go into defense mode, taking his hand on your shoulder and bending it, then using your grip on his arm to push him face down on the ground.
Bucky didn’t expect you to react so quickly and aggressively which makes it easier for you to catch him off-guard and pin him down.
“Goddammit, Bucky!” You say after you finally recognize him and let him go, getting up and scrambling back to put some distance between you and him while breathing heavily.
For a moment, Bucky is a little stunned. It's rare that anyone is able to get the jump on him like that. But then he snaps back to reality. He lets you make your distance while getting back to his feet and stands a few feet away from you.
“Did you fucking follow me?!” Your sadness is quickly forgotten and replaced with anger.
“I…” Bucky doesn’t know what to say. He knows he’s in the wrong here and he has no defense for himself when he knowingly violated your privacy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”
“You didn’t what?!” You snap at him. “You didn’t understand what the meaning of privacy is?!”
Bucky doesn’t know what to say, he’s never seen you this angry at anyone that’s not an enemy and surely never at him.
“I’m sorry, okay?” He says quickly. “I’m sorry, I was just curious, I didn’t think this would be it, I thought…”
“You thought what?” You say when he trails off, clearly pissed as you cross your arms in front of your chest.
“I thought maybe you were a supervillain…” He jokes weakly, trying to make you laugh. “Or a stripper.”
His last word gets a surprised laugh out of you as you, fortunately, understand he’s just joking before you actually punch him in the face.
Bucky lets out a sigh of relief as he sees you laugh and then takes a tentative step towards you.
“I really am sorry…” He says quietly, reaching out to put his hand on your shoulder. “I know it was wrong of me to follow you, and I didn’t plan on bothering you at all, which doesn’t make what I did better,” He quickly adds when he sees you’re about to say something.
“But when I saw you crying, I just… I couldn’t help myself.” He trails his hand down your arm to your hand and takes it in his. “You’re always there for everybody, I don’t think it’s fair that you don’t let anybody be there for you.”
You look at him for a long moment, processing his words. Of course you know he’s right, you don’t let anybody be there for you, but you also never really believed anyone cared enough to.
But looking at Bucky right now, it feels like he really does want to be there for you...
So you let him.
You look back down at the grave, your hand still in his as you intertwine your fingers together.
“She died when I was 14.” You say quietly. “I only had her, so I was on my own after that…”
Bucky listens quietly, his eyes on your face as he sees the tears starting to gather in your eyeline again.
“A few years later, Natasha and Clint found me during a mission. They saw me knock out a dude that cornered me in an alley and they were impressed…” You have a faint smile at the memory although it’s clear you’re about to cry again. “They offered me a place in the SHIELD Academy and, after that, I don’t know… I wasn’t alone anymore.”
You look back at Bucky to find him looking at you intently, his gaze intent and unwavering. 
“Doll…” He says quietly while cupping your face with his free hand as he sees you holding back tears. “It’s okay to be vulnerable in front of the people you care about. You taught me that.”
His gentle words, the way he softly strokes your cheek and the way he’s looking at you so lovingly, it’s all too much for you and can’t hold back your tears anymore.
With a broken sob, you bury your face in Bucky’s chest and hug him tightly, clinging to him while he wraps his arms around you and hugs you just as tight, kissing the top of your head before nuzzling his face against your hair.
In this moment, while holding you in his arms, Bucky realizes it’s not like you don’t feel like you belong with the Avengers.
This is just something you feel like you have to go through on your own because you’ve always had to.
And he’ll be damned if he lets you go through it alone ever again.
415 notes · View notes
poppy-metal · 1 day
Note
fail marriage au…………………….
having your first big blow out fight after marriage counselling. putting everything you ever found aggravating or disrespectful or wrong or even just a bit annoying on the table. art doing exactly the same. it gets mean. it gets personal. it gets ugly. you scream at him, scream like a banshee and he shouts back. veins you didn’t know he had bulge in his neck, his fingers flex as he wildly gesticulates. you throw something, a plastic tv remote that shatters against the wall. it all passes in a heated blur, you hardly know what you’re doing or saying but that blood is pumping through your veins and you’re alive and so is art. alive. furious, at you. you stalk up to him, and he stands tall above you, looming like a storm cloud. a sweet faced angelic storm cloud that right at this second you couldn’t fucking stand. you jab at his chest with your finger as you yell, lay into him. why couldn’t he tell you how he feels? why did he have to be so fucking passive aggressive? why was tashi the centre of his fucking universe? why couldn’t he be a fucking man and tell you what he really wants? be a man art. be a fucking man for once in your goddamn life.
his nostrils flare, his anger rising with every poke. he grabs your wrist, yanks it up and leans in close. stooping, showing you that he is bigger. he would stoop to your level. he will fight back. you feel his breath on your nose and seethe. he’s still minty fresh. stupid cunt.
“what i want is for you to shut the fuck up and stop acting like you know everything.”
“fuck off, you limp dicked sack of shit.”
“fuck you cunt.” he flicks those brutal syllables at you, chewing his words, opening his mouth so you can see his tongue forming them. you feel the severity in the pit of your stomach. you feel something else lower.
“fuck me? fuck you!”
and in that moment you drew together, moving as one, in the most violent kiss of the modern age. he squeezes your wrist, still held aloft. your other hand grips his shirt collar, pulling so hard it hurts his neck. good. you hope his delicate little neck gets a friction burn and a rash and you hope it stings forever. he tongues furiously at your mouth, mashing his lips into yours and licking the side of your mouth. eating your face like he eats pussy. which he hasn’t done in a while, another thing to yell at him about later. his other hand grips the back of your head, holding it still so you have no choice but to recieve his hot, angry love. you kiss back with equal fury. you want to make him suffer your love. don’t want it? tough luck. it’s his. and he will take it. he grunts into your mouth, it vibrates your tongue. you pull back, but he doesn’t let you. he forces you back nearer to him, spine curving in hateful ecstasy. he kisses you for a few more seconds before drawing back only a few centimetres to rest his forehead on yours and breathe. your lips are wet with him.
“i love you,” you breath.
he caresses the back of your head.
“prove it.”
me when i overachieve.
anyway this is apart of my failmarriage au and you should probably read this part first to understand whats going on here. or just follow the #failmarriage au tag that i have.
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your breath shudders out of you. you'd never heard that tone from him before, or rather, never directed at you. not exactly cold but, chilled. serious and pointed. dominant.
your hands fall from his hair, sliding down his throat, his shoulders. you stare into his eyes - he stares back. you feel like you're on a razor thin wire. concede or push back.
you wonder what this will fix. but you don't think you care. you want him. you miss him. your heart is pounding just thinking about it. you take a step back, two, three, several paces.
"okay," you say. you dont even know what you're agreeing too, just that you want it, whatever it is.
before you even have time to linger on that thought though -
because art is already stalking towards you, undoing his soft leather belt and letting it drop to the floor. you couldn’t move. you couldn’t breathe. just watching in this kind of stupified silence as art unczips his pants and slides his delicate fingers under his waistband. In three strides, art was right up in your space, owning it,  staring you down with a cool kind of control in his eyes, heavy cock in his hand, already hard and flushed and mouthwateringly beautiful. you couldn’t speak. you couldn’t think. all you could see was art. 
when art spoke, his voice was an iron grip closing around your throat. each word as clear and distinct as a brand to your hot skin.
“get on your knees”
you sink to the floor. It felt like falling, your knees knocked out from under you by the invisible string of his command that binds you to him. breath punches out of your lungs as you let yourself go under. art was already reaching out and grabbing the back of your head and shoving his cock past your waiting lips, pushing all the way to the hilt as his leaking head slammed into the back of your throat.
“god,” art breathed out, vice grip holding you in place. “You’re beautiful like this” and you were lost. years of built resentment and anxiety dissipating like smoke as art took over your senses. the taste of him, the smell of him, the warmth of him, the silk soft press of his cock down your throat. It was everything you’d been longing for from him. 
your hands fly up to grip art’s waist, fingers trying to find purchase, pressing him deeper, holding him deeper, worried he might pull out but not able to hold yourself back. when art didn’t say anything, didn't tell you to stop, you sank forward and started to suck greedily, tongue running over art’s throbbing length, trying desperately to take him apart, to please him, to worship him, to give him what he wanted. 
you heard yourself whine, felt your body sway forward, but you managed to hold yourself still, keep your tongue flat, keep your mouth wide and waiting, holding art still against the back of your throat, wanting desperately to prove you were good. that you loved him. That you wanted, wanted, wanted him.
"give me your hand,” art breathes, looking down at you, and you think briefly of the ancient greek god apollo, and how if art was a deity, you.d gladly stay right where you are. lovingly holding him in the back of your throat. 
your mind was already starting to go fuzzy with the heavy weight of art on the back of your tongue, salt slowly leaking from his pink slit, the slow stretch of his your lips around art’s shaft starting to ache in your jaw. , but, still you had enough awareness to look up confused, meeting art’s eyes in a question. but art didn’t offer an explanation. just looked down at you, hand held out, patiently waiting, like it wasn’t a question of whether you would obey; it was just a matter of when.
shakily, your hand reaches out to his. by instinct or by pure coincidence, its the hand with your wedding band on it. your fingers brush against each other, and then arts fingers, lithe and strong, an athlete's fingers, slide between yours. he brings your clasped hands together against his chest. if your throat wasn’t stuffed with cock you’d gasp at the gesture, the intimacy of it alone. your palm against his bare chest, his right pectoral. right over his thunderous heartbeat. his wedding band presses against yours. 
“Im gonna move, okay?” he breathes down at you, and his hand squeezes yours. “If you want me to stop just squeeze my hand two times.”
you nodded, a slight movement, eager and unbidden. art ran a finger under your jaw, fluttering his fingers against you. you had to shuffle a little to keep as much of art in your mouth as you could as he exhaled and used his free hand to slide against the back of your skull, cupping it tenderly.
a little punched-out gasp falls from arts lips as he slowly rocked his hips, pushingas deep as he could go as you moaned around him. art took a second, waited for you to look at him, blink the tears from your eyes, before he started the slow glide out of your mouth. you laid your tongue flat against the underside of him, tracing the veins, unable to move forward to chase him back down your throat as arts hand kept you firmly in place.
when he was all the way out, spit slick and gleaming, he rested the flushed head of himself against your bottom lip. rubbed himself there, traced every contour of your mouth with the slit of his cock. glossing your lips with the sheen of his precum. 
“I love you.” he said - voice choked and you couldnt tell if it was from emotion or lust, maybe a combination of the two. 
you felt something flare hot in your belly, but before you could utter a word, art was sliding back home, right back into the silk pallet of your throat. and you welcomed him greedily, lapping up every inch he gave you. 
the whole while you held his hand, still pressed against his chest. you tilted open your jaw as wide as it could go, imagining you wanted to be a snake and swallow him whole. you took everything. you breathed through your nose when he was settled fully inside you - you sucked around him when he began to pull back, suctioning your mouth around him to mimic a pussy. a tight hole.
arent i such a good wife, you thought. no one could take his cock like you could. no one would drop to their knees and let themselves be used this way, but you would. to you, this was love. this was passion. 
art lasted a few more minutes before he was dragging himself free from the warm hug of your throat -
“I want you spread out on the kitchen counter," art panted, jerking his chin. he reached down to wrap a loose hand around his wet cock, stroking it languidly. your throat ached with missing it. “I need to be inside you. I want to -” he swallows. “I want to fuck you."
you inhaled sharply. it was a word you didn't often hear from arts lips. especially in reference to sex. the crude word coming from him made your belly clench warmly. more, you wanted more of that.
you stared at each other for what felt like forever but was probably only a couple seconds, art’s cock still only inches from your face. you watched transfixed as art’s leaking head slipped between the tight circle of his fingers, flushed tip disappearing and pushing back through. It was filthy, it was gorgeous, and your whole body shuddered imagining what it would feel like at your entrance: the slow press, the slick head, the aching burn as it slowly pushed inside. because it would burn. the last time you’d had sex….. you didnt want to think about it.
Instead you hurriedly scrambled to obey. shoving the straps of your dress down as you went, feeling it pool around your waist as you bent against the cool marble of the counter. you’d never fucked here. suddenly that was a crazy thought to you. wasnt it a kind of ritual for a couple - to christen the house? your fingers curled into your palms as you pressed your bare chest down. 
you felt art come up behind you and your breath hitched when you felt his palms skimming up the backs of your thighs. you hadnt realized you’d been trembling until that moment. something about his touch calmed you though. 
ridiculous,  to be shy when this was your husband. he’d seen your cunt a hundred times.
all thoughts fled your head when those familiar fingers parted the lips of your cunt - finding you wet. “baby” art’s strangled voice reached your ears as he felt through your delicate slit - he sounded beside himself with wonder. that you,d be this wet for him. this ready. he slid two fingers in easily - just a slight pressure at your entrance and there was a give of the flesh. and he was in - inside you. pumping steadily. “that’s it,” a kiss at the base of your spine, soft and special. “let me in. give me whats mine.”
yours, you dont know if you breathed it or just echoed it in your head. hips pushing back into him, opening yourself further. the stretch was full but it felt so right. 
“god - you’re so responsive - how could i forget -” he was working himself up. his thumb nudged your clit, circled it with the pad before pressing down on it, his own goran covering up your keen. like it affected him more than it did you, to feel how you throbbed against him with need. “gonna put my tongue on your clit everyday and you’re going to let me. let me worship what i married, spread your legs and fucking take it-”
“oh god,” you’re whining. practically humping your cunt on his fingers. “whatever you want, baby. take it, its all yours.” 
you clench around nothing when he suddenly yanks his fingers free, but you dont have to mourn the loss long, your empty spasming hole feeling the silken pressure of his cock in the next second. he grips your waist, wholly possessive as he drags you back onto him and, oh. Its so blissful. that tender ache in your cunt as its filled to the brim. You’d-
“fuck - i missed this - missed your pussy -” 
yes, yes missed. you’d missed this.
art adjusts himself. spreads out his legs so he can really move, leans his broad chest over your back, covering you, smothering you, squishing you into the countertop but he doesnt care. you dont care. pinned beneath him and speared open like this - you’ve never felt more loved by him. 
“so tight and warm - god - i never wanna leave -” he watches, pink lips parted where you’ve taken him. the flared open lips of your pussy hugging the base of his cock. a groan rips from his chest, loud, because he wants you to know, really fucking know, how overwhelmed he is, how much you make him feel, as he slowly drags himself out - only able to make it halfway before he has to bury himself back into that tight heat. your walls tighten and squeeze around him in these luxurious pulls and he feels spit pool in his mouth, the sensation enough to empty his brain. he rocks there, barely pulling free from the clutch of your body. 
“treat me so well with this - little cunt - “ wet desperate kisses are pressed wherever he can reach, his mouth hungry for the salt of your skin. he pulls it between his teeth, some raw animal part of him just wanting to naw on you. he rubs his forehead against your shoulders as he starts to move his hips faster. finally pulling out all the way before he slams back in, knocking your hips into the hard marble, and he should say sorry, he should take more care, you’ll be bruised surely, but then his mind flits back to your therapy session - at the words you’d both said - how you felt - and the words exchanged in your fight. and he feels something kindle in his chest, sparked to life by the liquid heat pouring through him - you fucking - you’re so cruel sometimes and you dont even know - you dont even see what you’re doing to him, the power you hold, how much he’d give to you if only you’d fucking open up to him. get angry at him. demand more of what you want instead of fucking expecting him to read your goddamn mind. 
he hadn’t felt the wet grip of his wifes pussy in months until just now. that couldn’t happen again. 
he pulls himself to his full height - using his ringed hand to make a makeshift leash of your hair, wrapping it around his tan fist. anchors you back onto his hard dick again and again in hard punishing pulls that seem to punch moans from you.
“this is how i should have treated you from the beginning, huh? come home every day and bend you over the minute i step through the door. pound out all my frustrations on this tight cunt. use you to masturbate my dick.” he grunts - that viseral fury that’d you’d seen spark in him briefly before was back in full force now. you could feel it in the reverberating clap of his balls against your ass. the forceful grip on your hair, yanking your neck back, nearly pulling your chest off the counter, your tits bouncing. “maybe then you’d appreciate me.”
you dont know what part in you is broken that soaks his cock at his treatment instead of clamping up. his anger, his vitriol, it all speaks to a deep part inside of you that screams to be wanted. you whimper and bear down around him, meeting him instead of shying away. 
“g - od - oh god, art - “
“would that make you my happy little wife?” he slows back down. drags his thick length in and out of you in purposeful rolls of his hips. “I bring all my shit to you and you devote this hot little pussy to warming my dick. you’ll take care of me, right? drop to your knees and give me a proper fucking welcome home.”
you cant think. your eyes are rolling back, your brain fogging. Its so good, oh god, how is it so fucking good. you’re drenched between your thighs, you can feel it running down your thighs. you can feel the hot raw part of your pussy that is being penetrated again and again on his cock as it retreats and then glides back in. 
“Im gonna cum.” is all you can say. “art, im so close -”
“fuck,” he stops his movements. grinding his hips into yours, churning his dick inside you. his mouth skims your ear, he lets go of your hair to grip you around the throat. “tell me you love me. tell me you love me when you cum, baby, or i swear to god, i cant do this anymore -” 
“I love you!” the words are the truest they’ve ever been in years. you’re on your tippy toes, squirming, trying to get away or trying to get closer, you cant tell. probably closer. you want art to carve apart for himself inside you - brand himself on you forever so you can never leave, never forget, never doubt this marriage. “I love you, i love you, i love you, i love-”
“I love you too. fuck - i need you to cum. cum on my cock and show me you still want this -” 
you shatter apart. a million stars exploding in a galaxy. arts strong arms come around you like a band, wrapping you up against him as you shake. your breaths come out harshly in sync. the beats of your heart a fast thrum between you. 
you turn your head, desperately seeking, and he’s there, already leaning down to take your lips in a kiss. 
the weight of him still inside you is one you take comfort in. you dont want him to leave your body. you dont want this to end. 
“stay,” you whisper against his mouth. 
his hand cups your cheek, strokes his thumb over the swell of your flushed skin. “always,” he says back. 
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dark-moonlust · 2 days
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Impaled by Two
Pairing: Incubus demon x human reader
Summary: coming home late from work, you are taken by a demon incubus, who flies you to his lair. He claims you are his mate, and he is determined to keep you.
Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, oral (fem receiving), double🍆 🍆, double pen in pussy and ass, knotting, belly bulge. Don’t like, don’t read please.
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The night was dark, the moon and stars hidden behind the thick, inky darkness of the clouds. You didn’t like the dark. It made you feel uneasy. Quickening your pace, you wandered through the narrow alleys and rushed back home. You’d finished your night shift at the nightclub late. Your boss had been rude again, forcing you to work more than your should. You were tired of this work, tired of returning alone to a lonely crappy apartment but you needed the money.
The sound of your footsteps echoed off the cobblestones as you pounded your legs. For some reason, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being followed. But every time you turned around, there was nothing there but shadows. A distant noise caught your attention— almost like the flapping of wings. You looked up and froze. Good God, you stared at the massive figure which seemed to come straight at you. Massive wings, horned head and scowling fangs.
Panic overtaking, you screamed and started running for dear life. You managed only two steps before you were dragged off the ground, your stomach sinking at the realization that huge claws hands were wrapped around your waist. You screamed at the top of your lungs as you watched the ground disappear. The monster was smiling, his wings unfurling with powerful flaps, carrying you higher and higher until the city below became a blur.
And then, you lost consciousness.
When you woke up, you found yourself in a dimly lit chamber, the glow of the candles casting shadows on the velvet-draped windows. It was an elegant and lavish bedroom, even your blanket was made from cashmere — thankfully you were still dressed. Even so, you clutched the blanket to your chest as if it could protect you from the monster.
You remembered the monster, the loud and terrifying flapping of his wings, the wicked smirk on his cruel lips.
And then you saw him: he lurked in a dark corner, only his amber eyes flashing. Your breath hitched as the creature stepped forward. A cruel dusky face came into view, with menacing fangs and horns protruding from his head. Dark red hair touched his broad shoulders. He was impossibly tall, his body chiseled and filled with scars. His wings were folded behind him and he wore but an armored loincloth that hid just his sensitive areas, his thighs bulging with muscles.
“You have nothing to fear from me,” the creature said, his voice a deep, seductive rumble.
“You t-t-ook me away,” you staggered anxiously. “I have everything to fear!”
“I brought you home, to where you belong,” the demon said, prowling closer.
“This is not my home!” you cried, pressing the blanket tighter against you. “What are you? Why have you brought me here? What do you want from me?”
“I’m Lucien, an incubi demon,” he said, his eyes never leaving yours. “I brought you to my lair. I have been searching for you for centuries, my mate.”
“Mate?” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes, my mate,” he said, his voice a velvet drawl. “I have waited for you for so long, and now that I have found you, I will never let you go.”
“I’m not yours! Never will be,” you said defiantly. “Take me back. Now!”
His face hardened. “You are mine, and I am yours. By the end of the night, I promise you, you will be bouncing on my cocks, crying out that you’re mine.”
“Cocks?” Your face paled. “Please, no—”
You backed up against the headboard but he was already upon you. Strong arms wrapped around you, pressing your blanket clad body again his chiseled chest. Without meaning to, you inhaled his scent—dark musk and wood— and somehow you liked it. His skin was incredibly warm, darkly magnetic and made your own skin tingle.
No! You whimpered at the sensations overwhelming you. You couldn’t be attracted to him. He was a demon, a merciless and intoxicating monster. You struggled, but he held you firmly until you realized that fighting him was futile and you relaxed slightly in his embrace.
“I want to leave,” you whispered, your voice trembling.
“Shhh,” he rumbled, breath hot against your ear. “I understand you are afraid, little mate. But trust me when I say I will never harm you.”
“You want me.”
“I do want you,” he said, hunger in his eyes. “But you will not experience pain. Only love and pleasure.”
And then he was kissing you, brushing his lips against yours with surprising gentleness. You gasped and tried to pull away, but the heat of the kiss took your breath away, melting you against him. Careful of his teeth, he kissed your upper lip then sucked the lower one. A forked tongue coaxed your lips apart, slipping into your mouth. Sweet moans left you as he explored your mouth, his long tongue licking every crevice.
“That’s it,” he drawled, kissing your cheeks and then down your neck. “Enjoy it, my love. Enjoy the touch of your mate.”
His words were strangely comforting, quelling your fear and making your belly quiver with warmth. You didn’t realize when
your blanket was tugged and tossed away, his sharp nails tearing your clothes. His claws didn’t touch your skin, he was extremely precise but even so, you gasped and squirmed, instinctively trying to cover yourself. But his movements were quick and efficient. He moved you to his desire, ripped your bra and panties and even removed your shoes and shocks. Within moments, you lay completely bare before him, your clothes in tatters.
“Hell’s flames,” he muttered, his eyes caressing every inch of your body. “What breathtaking beauty.”
You glared up at him, legs squeezed together, arms crossed over your chest. “Stop this—"
Your world’s ended in a moan as he bent over you, a long tongue dragging over your neck. Another moan escaped you even if your arms pushed against his chiseled chest. But you miscalculated. Your breasts were no longer covered by your hands and he descended upon them with a feral growl, cupping both tits in his large, clawed hands. With surprising gentleness, he reshaped the underside of your pert tits, watching as they molded under his touch.
“I’m going to spend a lot of time worshipping you, my love,” he rumbled, his voice a deep seductive drawl. “I’ll show you pleasures beyond your wildest dreams.”
“Hnn… don’t,” you mumbled even if a shiver of arousal ran through you.
Ashamed at your own desire, you tried to cover yourself but he kissed you again and pinned your hands to the mattress. His kiss was possessive and searing. You could only respond to his touch, your body betraying you as fired licked within you. He growled as his tongue thrust in your mouth, and at the same time, you felt his power thrumming, his energy caressing you from head to toe and seeping into your very soul.
Large clawed hands caressed your breasts, fitting them in his big palms and jutting them up against his eager mouth. His thumbs teased your nipples and your body betrayed you, liquid warmth flooding between your legs. Lightly, he nibbled at the soft skin of your breasts, revealing pearly teeth that marked your skin.
“Please,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure if you were begging him to stop or to continue.
“You are mine,” he said, his voice a hypnotic purr. “My mate. And I will make sure you feel every inch of that.”
His caresses moved lower, his tongue tracing your soft belly and inside your bellybutton. You thrashed but he gripped your legs under the knees and spread them wide, keeping you there while his hungry demon eyes gazed at your slick pussy. His tongue darted out and then he was tasting you, sucking your plump cunt and lapping at your wetness. You cried out, your hips bucking involuntarily.
The demon kept you there, a captive to his shameless touches as his tongue explored every inch of your folds. Next, he was parting the lips of your pussy, opening you up as he thrusted his tongue inside your small opening. The long appendage undulated, driving back and forth as if it was fucking you, slick sounds echoing in the lair.
“So sweet, so wet. Such a sweet tight cunt,” he said, voice thick with must.
“Ahnnn…hn… I need…I need—” you whined, hands gripping his shoulders as you rubbed your face against him.
“Hmm, that’s more like it,” he drawled but stopped touching you, only his breath in your cunt.
You growled in frustration. “Nooo.”
“Do you want to come, mate?”
“Y-yes, please.”
“All you have to do is say my name,” he said, breathing teasingly against your clit. The touch sent little pleasure goosebumps all over your skin.
“Please...just...please.”
“Please what?”
“Please, Lucien,” you finally called his name. “I need you to… to touch. Please…touch me.”
With a satisfied growl, he descended on your pussy, going back to devouring you. You moaned lewdly, that primal part of you responding to his touches. The pleasure was overwhelming, building inside you like a storm until it exploded, shattering you in pieces. Head falling back against the bed, you arched your body and opened your legs obscenely, offering your pussy to him. Lucien took you with pleasure, his tongue working until he’d consumed every drop of your nectar.
Through hazy eyes, you saw him sit back on his haunches, removing his loincloth. The strip of fabric fell away, revealing two monstrous cocks, dripping with pre-cum. Fuck, he really did have two of them and they were just as big as he was. The front one had to be the primal cock; it was thick and long with a blunt head, surrounded by protruding veins. The one behind it was self-lubricating, just as thick but ridged and curvy. Heavy balls hung from between his cocks, obscenely big and swollen.
A soft hitch of breath left you when he flipped you on your stomach, ass high up in the air. His hands parted your asscheeks, his tongue leaving the tight ring of muscle. You whimpered and thrashed, but he held you steady, driving his wicked tongue inside a place where no one had ever fucked. Your cheek squished on the sheets as he claimed your ass, making your body alight with pleasure again.
“Lucien,” you moaned, your hands fisting in the sheets. “Please…”
A gasp left you when something thick penetrated you. It was the tip of his second cock, the head pushing against your pouting rosebud and pressing inside. With some pressure, the head popped in and you both groaned. The stretch was intense, almost too much, but the pleasure indescribable.
“Oh, God,” you whimpered, your hips bucking. “M… move, please, don’t stop.”
“I’m the one fucking you, mate. Not God. I’m the one owning your holes. Lucien, your mate.”
And with that, he thrust his primary cock inside your pussy, filling you in one strong thrust that stole your breath. Lucien lodged himself deep, his shafts filling your pussy and ass to the hilt, stretching you to your limits. His massive sizes rubbed against each other inside you and he reached down, his hand curving around the bulge in your stomach.
“My mate. Mine,” he said, his voice a primal growl. “I have you now, fully and completely.”
“Fuck— ahnn… so full…” You moaned loudly, your body trembling with need.
“I have you, my love. I won’t let you feel any pain. Relax for me.”
You did so, relaxing your muscles and breathing softly.
“Such a good mate,” he drawled kissing your nape. “I’m going to claim you now, make you mine forever. You want that, don’t you, little one?”
“Yes, please, yes, Lucien.”
Grasping your hips, he drew back, watching both his cocks glistening with your juices before thrusting them back in your tight little holes. A forked tongue licked across your neck as his fingers circled your clit, stroking and teasing in time with his thrusts, hitting the right spots again and again.
You came with a cry, your body clenching and unclenching around his cocks but he didn’t stop. The demon continued to fuck you through your orgasm, cocks pistoning inside you at an urgent pace. You thrashed and whimpered, overstimulated but he kept going, looking stronger than ever, his cocks feeling harder and thicker than before. Lewd sounds echoed, the plap plap of flesh meeting flesh.
“Ready for my knots, little mate?” he asked, his body covering your in a dominating cradle.
“K-knots—”
You didn’t get to finish because he slammed to the hilt, both cocks pulsing and erupting inside you, filling you with rope after rope of cum. His knots swell to full mast, feeling as large as your fist, stretching your pussy and ass, plugging you up with his seed. The fit was so tight that not a drop of his seed escaped.
Gently, he rolled both of you to the side, his cocks still hard and locking you together. Your back pressed against his warm, muscular chest as he draped your leg over his thigh. A big hand caressed your slightly swollen stomach, possessive and proud about the way it rounded with his cocks and seed inside you.
“So beautiful,” he drawled, his amber eyes looking at you warmly. “So lovely around my knots.“
You shifted slightly, wincing a little as you tried to settle into find a more comfortable position. “When will they go down?”
“In a few minutes. Are you in pain?”
“No…” you muttered. “It’s just… I can feel you inside me.”
“Hmm,” he rumbled. Your words pleased him. “Doesn’t it feel good to have me inside you, mate?”
“Yes.”
“And for that, little mate, you’ve earned another orgasm.”
With a smug grin on his handsome face, he guided his hand to your pussy, trailing your stretched holes before flicking your clit. Softly, gently and with deliberate moments. You whined because it was too much, but you couldn’t move away because of his knots. He held you against him, his fingers dancing on your clit. The sensations built rapidly, your breath coming in ragged gasps.
He watched you intently. “That’s it, my love. Let go, clench this pretty cunt and lovely ass around my cocks.”
A wave of warmth rose up from your clit, spreading rapidly to your entire body. It was the most fulfilling pleasure. It set everything right inside you, leaving only deep, satisfying warmth. He continued to hold you, whispering how happy he was that he’d found you, how good you had taken his cocks and how tight you felt around him. He said that he’d protect you always, never let anyone hurt or distress you.
Exhausted but blissful, you believed him. It didn’t matter what he was. You couldn’t deny him. His warmth, his strength, and the way he held you made you feel safe. Your mate. Lucien was your mate.
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educatedsimps · 3 days
Text
— bonus headcanons, iwaizumi hajime
≪ back to fics masterlist main fic here!
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iwaizumi hajime x gn!reader
a/n: idea dump based on this iwa request (main fic) so this is basically just everything i wanted to put into the fic but i kinda lost the energy and the bandwidth to write everything up to the standard i wanted so now this exists HAHA hope u like this and tysm for reading! :)
headcanons under the cut!
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You remember asking him once, "Hajime, why do you do that?"
And he replied "Do what?" with deadass the most confused look on his face.
"Kiss my wrists and palms all the time," You clarified.
"Oh," He stopped. "Yeah, why do I do that-"
ok so basically, Iwa finds the wrists a very delicate part of the body, and given his experience as a volleyball player, and the nature of his job, he takes extra special care of them.
he remembers his coaches always reminding him and his teammates not to injure their wrists during training, which translates to "YOU BETTER HAVE GOOD FORM WHILE SPIKING, SERVING AND SETTING, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"
anyway, i think he started noticing wrists when he was in high school, especially since he was seijoh's ace and had to use his wrists a lot to spike. he probably injured his wrist(s) once and has always listened to his coaches ever since.
now that he's a professional volleyball trainer he makes sure that his athletes don't injure their wrists either.
so i think all of this adds to why he pays extra attention to your wrists especially.
bonus if your job requires you to use or rely on your wrists a lot, eg. musician (like me), athletes, surgeon, author, artist, etc... idk.
YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME THAT HE DOESN'T GIVE THE BEST 👏 FKING 👏 MASSAGES 👏 ON EARTH 👏 and at the end of the massage he'll always kiss your hands and wrists and idk why but it just feels so chivalrous. like ofc it feels intimate when you hold his face in your hands and he plants kisses on your wrists/palms and but sometimes it just feels so chivalrous and gentlemanly ykwim?
OMG WHEN HE PROPOSES TO YOU like after he slides the ring onto your finger AND THEN KISSES YOUR WRIST/HAND AND IT FEELS LIKE YOUR HEART COULD EXPLODE 'cause i know mine would actually explode if he did that.
anyway some instances i thought of adding to the fic (but couldn't cuz i don't have the ability or capacity to write them out well) include:
waking up in the morning together or when you hold his face and kiss his forehead (these two are in the main fic linked above!)
when you're cuddling on the couch after a long day and just watching a show together or napping. if you're laying on him and touch his face he'll 100% kiss your wrists/palms
when he hugs you from behind and you reach up to run your fingers through his hair (like when you're cooking dinner together or something) and he'll pull your hand down to kiss your wrist
when you hug him with your arms around his neck and he catches your wrist before you pull away
when you shower together (SFW, DON'T WORRY) and you're facing each other and he's tilting his head / bending down while you wash his hair or massage his scalp and when you're done washing it he'll give your wrists a gentle kiss before returning the favour
BONUS: when he holds your face in his hands and you decide to give him a taste of his (very sweet) medicine. you’d twist your head to kiss his wrist and then his palm and he'd be BLUSHING because he's usually the one who does that AND HE'S SO CUTE he's like, "hey... you can't do that. i'm supposed to be the one doing that for you." while blushing and smiling and getting a lil shy and everything and HE'S JUST TOO CUTE FOR MY HEART 😭😭💕
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a/n: ok that's all for the iwa brainrot ... i'm kidding, the iwa brainrot will never end. THANKS FOR READING THOUGH and thank you anon for sparking my two week long obsession with iwa once again
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hana-no-seiiki · 2 days
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WHY DON’T YOU GIVE ME A SMILE? (ACT 2)
YANDERE! BATFAM x JINX (ARCANE/LEAGUE)-ESQUE! READER
[ ACT ONE HERE ]
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cw/tw: mentally ill reader. schizophrenic reader. reader w/ abandonment issues. manipulative reader. crimes. arson.
summary: we dive deeper into Gotham's explosive personality and history with those that took the title of ‘boy wonder’
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MORE ON YOUR ORIGINS
“They were right! You’re just a Jinx.”
“Everybody shut up! I need to think!”
“We weren’t . . . “
As much as you scared the crap out of Joker’s goons. Since they saw you grow up first hand. A lot of them tended to be overprotective over you.
I mean, they’re insane enough to follow Joker. What more you?
They see you as his successor. An heir of sorts.
Which is why Jason Todd felt like he had no choice but to either fix you or keep you locked up.
You don’t remember much of him. If you did you would hate him.
He was the one that essentially helped you pull the trigger on your family.
If you haven’t read my other posts about it, here’s the rundown.
Jason had a massive crush on reader when the two of em were kids. Prior to everything. Before he was adopted, before reader set their world ablaze, before shit hit the fan essentially.
He saw how neglected you felt. The rejection you faced from your peers for not being strong enough. For being small and weak.
Him and your sister were pretty popular amongst the kids but it only made the comparisons worse.
It was always how they were “twice the kids at [Y/N]’s age.”
And so he thought of a little gift. Just a little something to show the others how cool you really are.
He didn’t expect you to use it that way. And the worst part of it all, he wasn’t there to comfort you. I mean sure, dozens of people died that day. Many of which he was somewhat fond of. But he was sure they’d want him to comfort you. To say that it wasn’t your fault.
And despite all that, you only knew Jason as that one guy Joker went too far with.
“Hey, [N/N].”
The call of your name almost froze you on the spot. Their screams pushed forward from the back of your mind into the forefront. You didn’t think. Your hands just pulled the trigger of your machine gun on its own.
“Who the hell are you?” You grit your teeth. You’ve heard of this Red Hood going around and ruining your adoptive father’s plans lately.
And what’s worse? The man kept forcing you to stay away. Plying you with all sorts of prostitutes and all the money you could ever need or want.
Despite your hostile disposition, the man in question doesn’t return it. “I’m sorry. This was all my fault. I shouldn’t have left you behind.”
“Leave.” You lowered your machine gun. A sudden wave of drowsiness overwhelmed you. A sense of calm. Weakness. Everything was screaming at you to end the source. But if he kept dodging your bullets them perhaps diplomacy would work.
You breathed out. [Y/N]. That name, that identity — though it fell down a well and was long dead it still had it uses.
Softened voice, doe eyes, and posture loose. If you had no other weapon they you always had your vulnerability.
“You need to leave, Joker is coming soon and I can’t help you if you’re caught.”
“Who was that, Jinx?” Joker asked.
You turned around. Your eyes meeting his chest and then his face, where that wide, freakish grin was stuck unto him.
“Old man, I think you mean what.” The toxic pink glint flashed through your eyes as you once again buried your old self along with the rest of the corpses that have met their demise by your hand.
“Meet Fishbones.”
BACK TO YOUR RIVAL:
Recently Tim had been . . . more agreeable to your demands somewhat?
You could tell he was pulling his punches.
Sometimes he’d even join you in your exploits.
You never trusted him of course. You never trusted anyone but yourself. But he was fun to be around is all. Whether it was you two beating each other to near death or blowing up buildings (he made sure to evacuate its residents before you two went all out).
“You know. I kinda wanna blow up that building. Don’t you think we’ll have a better view of the sky that way, Timmy?” You pointed to the structure with your signature gun shaped hand gesture.
That was one of Bruce’s buildings.
“You . . . “ Tim blinked at you a couple of times. “are so right.”
“Let’s go.” You yanked him the hand.
Tim smiled. Even if he wasn’t making direct contact with your skin, and you with his — he couldn’t help but smile at the intimacy of this moment. What were his worries with you beside him? All the sadness and anger felt so fleeting when he was with you.
His glee almost costed him his life as it took him a couple of moments to realize that you have pushed him off a building after a while of parkour.
He managed to grapple himself back, and with your assistance, he got back up to the ledge you two were on.
He gave you one half hearted glare. You laugh at his face, “You’re such a loser! Always ready to cry! Wah wah wah!” And you set off. Getting within the building with no care for stealth whatsoever.
What was the point of being all sneaky like when you had bombs on you?
"Wait up! Get back here!" Tim ran after you. He didn’t mind that you were essentially destroying all his and Bruce’s hard-work on his industries, but you were being too reckless. He would sure as hell minded if you were caught.
Turns out he wasn’t so far off when it came to his fears and suspicions.
“You. You set me up.” You glared at him. Hands on your blaster. Ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. Your eyes flicking between the men in front of you, wondering who was best to pick off first.
Batman, Nightwing, or the man you stupidly thought was your friend.
“No. No you have to believe me I—“ Tim tried to explain. But Dick cuts him off, “Good job, we couldn’t have done it without you.”
“You traitor. I knew it. I knew it.” Your voice got weaker and weaker.
No, no, no. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This wasn’t part of the plan. Tim was supposed to be with you for longer.
“I told you, you have no choice.” Bruce finally spoke. His cape moved to his back.
He wasn’t going to let you go. Not without making it bloody.
“Oh, boohoo. You’ve always been no fun!” Your eyes never leave the two dark suited men, but Tim knew you were speaking to him. “Good thing I never trusted you.”
And you take a deep breath, dropping the laughing gas Harley gave you for emergencies. It wasn’t as strong as the original one, hell you’re sure that those people probably expected that move. But it at least blocked their line of sights on you, allowing you to create some distance.
You managed to get far enough to ready your weapons and send a call of help to your adoptive parents before your prediction proved to be true — footsteps behind you; loud and clear.
“Look’s like we’ve got even more company. Huh, boy savior?”
“Don’t move and I won’t cut you down.”
Pow pow in your hand, and desperation in your mind. The last thing you heard is a blade unsheathing before you pull the trigger.
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୨ ©️ ୧⸝⸝﹕hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2024﹐⊂���️⊃ ‹𝟹
AUTHOR’s NOTE: YALL THOUGHT THIS WAS GONE!! WELL THINK AGAIN!! I AM BACK!!! Sorry for the late update!! Man I’m so excited for season 2 of arcane ahahsheudidj
Taglist: @w31rdg1rl @cherry-peach-flavored @ice-cream-writes-stuff @speckle-meow-meow @inejghafawifesblog @sitepathos @mimiissia @rolo-at-midnight @mossyvampire @kawaiimusiccollection @harpy-space @takottai @maddeningmangos @obsessed-with-a-fictional @ihatemylifeuwu @caramelstrikezz @szapizzapanda @vanessa-boo @imbiafandbored @victor-rose @earphonejack09 @rainnyydaysworld @bubbabobabubbles @ksziggy @evan-trand @emo-z0mbiezzz @nyra-42 @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @orangeboulevard @alwayszealousdetective @huhuhhuhh @iwasveronica @imginarygirl @nebuluma @heyitsaloy @mysticalhills
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ybklix · 2 days
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𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐧
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★ lee minho part four
part one / part two / part three
✦summary: Minho gives you a place in an agency you've always dreamed of, which will boost your professional and artistic career, but he can't bear to be away from you when your schedule changes drastically, which drives him crazy as he sees you provoking him with your slightly obnoxious partner from your new internship, and your persistent best friend.
✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / fluff / established relationship / ceo lee know x fem reader / fingering / oral sex / creampie / choking
word count: 14.4k
a/n: idk why so many w.c. i’m sorry, i literally had a writer’s block lol and procrastinated all week
It was not part of your plans to have a boyfriend, or to fall in love, much less with a mature man in his thirties. Reality hit you when you were having a nice date night on the beach, when Minho had to leave for an important call. You looked around, you hadn't realized the drastic change in your life, when if just two weeks ago you were crying in your room full of shame for even considering asking your parents for money and… suddenly you had it all. You bit your lower lip and looked at Minho from a distance, age was the least important thing about him, he was wonderful, he gave you fantastic sex and spoiled you every five minutes; in the moments so quiet for both of you when he is on his phone he suddenly speaks and tells you he saw a very nice dress and bought it for you, just like that, he would blurt it out as something so normal and never failed to surprise you when a small gift from him to you, turns out to be something incredibly expensive.
You examined him, his broad back and the attractive way he was running his hand behind his head, you thought it was a serious call because of his tense position, still you kept thinking how cute he looked.
Minho came over and sat back down, whispering a small “I'm sorry.” You asked him if everything was okay to which he nodded with a tender little smile. After minutes he stopped eating and gave you a long look.
“You have to enjoy your last few days working with me, I'm going to miss you being around” he said, his comment puzzled you too much that he could read it on your face immediately to which he continued, “Because starting Monday you'll be training at that acting agency.”
You opened your eyes a little stupefied, Minho had told you that he would support you in your professional career and that he would do everything possible to see you succeed to which you silenced him by whispering a yes and kissing him slowly, since you had thanked him and started to say that it wasn't necessary to which he immediately interrupted you arguing that he would do it anyways, but he hadn't given you in detail his plan.
“What, you hadn't told me…?”
“Really?” he spoke in a high pitched tone paying it no mind as he looked at the food, “I thought I told you that night.”
You shook your head softly. The news shocked you, yet you relaxed your expression, remembering that in such a short time Minho had given you so much and yes… in a way your relationship was a sugar daddy dynamic, but he made it clear to you that you should never feel ashamed to receive money from him because his intentions were merely focused on you and things that were going to benefit you, he didn't expect to receive anything bigger in return than a simple thank you or a kiss every time he came with something new for you, but it's clear that… you love intimacy with him so much that thanking him in that way wasn't bad for both of you.
“It's at the agency of…” you spoke more animatedly, lost in his bright eyes unable to finish the sentence, but he nodded softly.
“You know it is, the best in the country where all those successful and talented actors come out of nowhere” he replied.
You denied gently not being able to understand him, “But it's very hard to get in and…” you wanted to keep talking, but you realized that arguing wouldn't do any good, it was already done for Minho, “Thank you” you told him with a tender smile, he saw you the same way.
“It's nothing” he added proudly.
“Now I feel bad because I didn't know what to get you so I just brought you a cake” you said softly as you waved your hand animatedly towards the waitress who was sitting retired from you in case you were offered something else, you gestured to her indicating to bring the cake and candles for Minho.
He laughed softly and his eyes lit up as he saw the cake in front of him.
“You shouldn't have…”
“It's not a birthday without cake and candles,” you interrupted him.
His smile widened and he leaned in a little to tell you, “Come here, I want you to blow out the candles with me” you saw him pat his thigh.
You blushed a little and agreed to sit on his lap, turning your back to him, you were both on the terrace of his beach house, with a view of the sea so the wind moved your hair slightly, causing Minho to gently push it aside so as not to obstruct his view.
“I'll stay here but you have to be the one to blow out the candles” you added, as you lit the candles, hoping the wind wouldn't blow them out.
Minho gently caressed your back uncovered by your blouse and then let his hands fall on your bare thighs, thinking that he needed no other wish but to be with you, somewhat corny for him, but he couldn't ask for anything better than to hold you in his arms and kiss your lips… he thought humorously that maybe deep down, he wished he was less jealous when it comes to you, his hairs bristling and his blood feeling heavy every time he thought of you and the idea of another man around. Minho was engrossed in how tender you looked with your eyes shining at the sight of the cake and keeping the unquenched candles intact, which he awkwardly let out a light puff blowing them out and not taking his eyes off you. You felt his triggered gaze on you and found him with a relaxed and tender expression, it was hard for you to accept that a few weeks ago you were a stranger and he looked at you in a particular way with contempt and now it was the opposite, when you were not lost in desire and lust, he looked at you so softly and delicately.
You averted your gaze nervously and turned your body again, for a second, terrified of liking him more if that was even possible.
“Mmm, I also brought you something else, it's very small it's just that I seriously didn't know what to give you” you commented to him in a sharp tone.
And it wasn't a lie, you had no idea what to give to a man who had everything materially speaking and if he didn't have it he could buy it for him without a problem… besides you weren't the type of girl to write a letter and to say cheesy things to his face when you had no idea what to buy him… besides you tried to be realistic, the man was turning thirty, not eighteen.
“I told you it was okay by me this way without giving me something…”
You ignored Minho's words, leaning into your bag abruptly, brushing a little against his still-quiet bulge, still making him moan softly. And you took from there a small, elongated box, biting your lip unsure that it was such an insignificant object and didn't compare to the millions of won he spent daily on you with clothes or something else expensive. You settled your body on his lap, laying it sideways in front of him, your back now turned to the beautiful beach scenery. You handed it with uncertainty to Minho, who took it with joy, not caring what it was about, it was a small detail coming from you and that was enough for him, since Minho recognized that he was totally the provider of the relationship and he could not agree more with that; it was enough for him to see you happy, without worries, arranged for him wearing diamonds and luxurious clothes, raising glances and sighs from other rich women of his social circle who did not know of your existence.
Minho wrapped his arms around your body and opened it in front of you and, before he could even analyze what was inside, you hurried to say:
“It's small and silly I know, but you can use it… when you're in important meetings, plus it has your initials on it, it's totally yours.”
Minho let out a small chuckle at your reaction and was quick to see that it was a sleek black and gold pen with his initials LMH engraved small on the top of the object. Minho smiled broadly.
“This is what I'll sign our wedding papers with?” he commented amused looking at you.
You blinked in confusion at his sudden comment, “What?” you said.
Minho let out a small laugh again now slightly nervous and averted his gaze to the small gift, closing the box and leaving it on the table to place his hands on your thighs.
“Thank you” he murmured sweetly, moving closer to your lips to trap them in a tender kiss that made your ears burn.
“I should have given you something else…” you stammered disappointedly pouting slightly.
“You can always give me something else…” he whispered slowly squeezing your thighs and bringing his right hand up to your panties.
He had been specific with you, not wearing anything under your skirt other than your underwear, he picked you out the cute outfit that matched his own, acting like a complete sweetheart. You pressed your lips together tightly feeling your body temperature rise knowing that Minho wanted to touch you.
“You haven't shown me how grateful you are to get into the agency, wasn't it your dream?” he spoke again seductively close to your ear.
You nodded and closed your legs a little in reflex as you felt his fingertips brush your folds and squeeze your clitoris, Minho's hand was lost between your legs, covering only a small part of it by your tiny skirt.
“Show me how grateful you are to me…”
Minho continued to tease you, touching you through the thin fabric of your underwear, this time making you moan as your pussy was beginning to throb and grow wet at his fine touch.
“Minho, no please… she’s watching us” you tried to say as calmly as possible, a little scared as you realized you had the waitress in front of you a few meters away.
Minho let out a haughty laugh and looked vaguely in the direction of his employee.
“I don't think she's watching us.”
“Yes, Minho, s-stop” you spoke haltingly as you felt his delicious circular motions on your sensitive spot.
“Look me in the eyes and tell me to stop and I'll stop” he demanded authoritatively.
But you couldn't do that, his gentle rubbing became a little rougher moving and stimulating your labia as you felt his huge erection grow and touch your ass.
“Well to me you seem to be enjoying it” he said again even more smugly, “Then turn around princess, so you can turn your back on her if you care so much” he whispered.
You did it instantly, you were so excited and embarrassed that you couldn't see the poor waitress, so you just decided to fall into Minho's lap turning your back to the girl, looking out to sea. Now your concern would be anyone who decided to walk on the beach at night, but it was almost impossible, the nights were somewhat cold and strangely the place was perfectly empty. Minho was surprised by your sudden movement, pulling his hands away in confusion and let out a slight moan as he felt you sit on his erect cock drowning in his pants, instantly heeding him so he could continue playing with your pussy.
“Look at you, paying attention to me so I can touch your needy pussy” he growled haughtily.
You were so turned on by his touch and cocky tone, you couldn't even respond to him, other than just rolling your eyes annoyed that he was right and that you needed him now. You spread your legs a little wider giving him better access to your wet entrance to which Minho bit his lip, and stimulated your center through the fabric of your panties, Minho's breathing became ragged, he was becoming insane from not having your pussy in his mouth, he touched every inch of your folds, stretching your panties to feel the pressure on your wet pussy, making you moan, he enjoyed every moment of his fingers sliding on your labia and your sobs full of pleasure, finally he stuck two of his fingers smoothly into your tight hole making you whimper. Fuck, you needed him so badly, you were so aroused that staying still on his lap was not enough, you would want to take his fingers yourself, as you sensed the slow play in which Minho was touching you. Minho couldn't stand the thought of his cock suffocating in his pants but it made him hornier to watch your body squirm trying to regain your posture, he continued to finger you, paying attention to your clitoris with his thumb, completely prioritizing your pleasure as he energetically watched with his eyebrows slightly raised every little contraction stimulating his cock.
“Kiss me” he requested needily as he saw your parted lips emitting sounds of pleasure.
You joined your lips, in a dirty kiss feeling the inside of each other's mouths, making you more aroused, Minho licked your lips as he parted from you and looked at you completely blinded in lust, finally intensifying his skillful movements with his hand, making you startle and whimper more, fucking you deeply with his fingers so well that you ended up cumming in them. Minho grinned mischievously and abruptly pulled his digits out of you, taking them into your mouth covered in your fluid.
“Sweet cake frosting” he whispered, making you laugh as you took his hand with both of yours and sucked his fingers hard erotically looking into his eyes, making his cock throb harder as his imagination flew.
“Fuck, princess, let's go inside now” he gasped.
[...]
You skipped that day of school, however upon returning to the city your head could only think of your best friend that you hadn't had genuine contact with in long days, you were a bit sad that you decided you needed advice from another friend who may have gone through the same thing, falling in love with a rich older man after a chance encounter.
That day you returned to the city during the morning and Minho went straight to his office to work, barely paying attention to you; everyone at work speculated that you had something going on with Minho, you being always the last one to leave —since you waited for Minho and uselessly hoped no one would see you enter his office so often— and you always coincidentally came in together, but you didn't care, you were going to stop coming in on Monday and you had concluded your work by seeing Minho's work schedule and confirming that he was very busy… so you were bored in your chair, your very senior colleagues clearly judged you and did not approach to talk to you so much, so, not knowing what to do, you decided to try to talk to Felix in order to rescue your friendship a little bit; at the same time you texted Hari so you could see each other to talk as soon as possible.
Felix didn't respond to you all day, hurting you a bit as it was obvious he was ignoring you since he kept updating his social media. And Hari seemed to like talking on the phone today, to which you told her you wanted to see her in person so she agreed to do so the next day.
That afternoon when everyone left, you headed to Minho's office, ready to go in, but you stopped your hand on the doorknob when you heard him yelling in what you assumed was a phone call, you didn't want to interrupt and stood unsure at the door whether to go in or not…. to which you were determined to do so once you stopped hearing his voice indicating that he had hung up the call, but Minho stepped forward opening the door with force and coming out of his office with his suit jacket in his hand and advanced quickly in search of you, to which you hurried to follow him, catching his attention by the noise of your heels, smiling and relaxing his countenance at the mere sight of you.
“There you are” he said happily.
You took his hands and noticed his tired and tense face even though he was smiling.
“Shall we go?” you whispered to him tilting your head to which he nodded.
Once inside the car in the back of it, Minho squeezed your hand and turned to look at you to say as he let out a sigh, “Don't you want to stay at my place?”
“Only because you look tired and stressed, you need to rest” you replied raising the corners of your lips in a small smile.
“If you'll stay because I'm tired, then I'm tired every day, will you come take care of me?”
Your smile got bigger and you moved closer to him to caress his chest, his cute big round eyes suddenly looked droopy so you couldn't stand to see him like that.
“You really look stressed” you reiterated now worried.
“Yeah, I'm sorry it's just…” he grimaced, “it's the last few months and I'm working hard to close the year well with the company and start a new one…” you nodded listening to him carefully and thinking he had nothing to apologize for, “But luckily I have the best stress remover…” he murmured tilting his head and giving you kisses on your neck while his free hand pressed your thigh, “Do you want to fuck tonight?” he asked now in a low voice close to your ear, bristling your skin.
His voice and touch made you weak in seconds but… you thought it would be a very good way to help your boyfriend, but there were little things like that you had thought about all night and… you also wanted a quiet and sweet relationship where it's not necessary to fuck every day, even though you would do it with Minho every day at any time if you wanted to, still, you didn't want to look like or become addicted.
You shook your head softly.
“Let's go get you to sleep” you added firmly, looking him in the eyes and holding back all your dirty thoughts and the huge desire you will always have for Minho.
“Okay” he sighed slightly exasperated, “But let's go to dinner first, are you hungry?” he mentioned in a more relaxed and sharp tone, giving you a quick kiss on the lips.
Minho didn't wait for your answer and let the driver know the change of direction for both of you to go to dinner. You finally had dinner, walked around a bit and arrived at Minho's house, who upon stepping into his foyer, threw his coat and removed his tie in despair, whimpering exhausted and also threw the fabric of it away. You watched the scene, finding it incredibly attractive and were surprised by his grip on your waist.
“You want to shower in the master bathroom and I'll do it in the other one?” Minho spoke.
He had understood perfectly that you didn't want to have sex so he saved himself from seducing you and offering to take a shower together, besides he did feel tired, in any case that you change your mind, for him it would be wonderful if you took control this time and you were the one who fuck him, jumping on his cock.
But you thought for a few seconds, admiring the closeness of his face to yours, you hadn't kissed properly since the morning before you got out of the car and pretended to get to work first, you and then him, at different times. And you spent a while ago having dinner and talking all the time, without him even taking the time to get dangerously and romantically close to your face, Minho wanted to know absolutely everything about his girlfriend, so he had fun asking question after question until he sweetly knew the silliest detail, as was the age when you taught yourself to ride a bike, or more important things, like your career choice, your parents's opinion, your story and more deep conversation.
“Mmm, it's not okay for me, I can use the other bathroom” you replied.
“No, no” he regretted, “Do it in the main one in my room, don't worry, there's everything for you in my closet” he sentenced, giving you a little kiss on your forehead, he pulled away and hurried to shed his clothes in search of a quick relief.
You swayed on your own place, feeling a little strange to see his silhouette disappearing far away to another room you didn't know at all, so far you knew his house very well but you were still missing certain little places. You hurried to take a bath, totally unconcerned that Minho would see you in your pajamas and without makeup, in such a short time you had already built that trust, it was inevitable, you were spending more and more time together but, sadly everything was going to change in a few days since Minho gave you details that it would be after your university schedule and you recognized that there was no specific departure time because sometimes it was normal to stay late to practice…. still as you were new, the best case scenario is that your schedule would end at the same time Minho was supposed to leave his office…. but, on busy days like these for Minho, you could at least see him while you were being driven to the company, while he was walking outside his office or when you had to compulsorily accompany him to his meetings, but for now no more Minho which frustrated you, you just started to be his girlfriend and your time was starting to be delimited, you couldn't help it, you wanted to be cloying and be with him all the time, it felt so good to be by his side.
It made you tender to realize that Minho had taken it very seriously to make you feel at home, he had clothes for you, space in his big closet exclusively for you and little things like shampoo, lotion, brush for your hair, dryer, you couldn't process at what point it occurred to him to compulsively buy everything, just from one day to the next everything was there, like your sudden feelings for each other. You stood watching the outside through his incredibly long bedroom window, giving you the view of the large yard and area surrounded by tall trees, you sighed at the thought that your boyfriend was very different from you but still you were both in that sweet initiation stage where everything seems optimistic.
You felt the sound of the door and turned around the second, finding Minho in his comfy cotton pajamas wearing only his pants, his chest and abdomen bare as he shook his hair with one hand.
“I can finally go to bed” he sighed as he looked at you.
You honestly weren't sleepy yet, but there was nothing better than trying to fall asleep cuddled up to him. You approached Minho, who sat on his bed ready to lay down, but didn't do so until you sat the bed as well, he pulled the big sheets aside to cover himself and you, who happily looked for a place close to his body where you would feel comfortable once you lay down. Minho loudly indicated to turn off the lights to his speaker, surprising you a bit since on tired days when you don't want to get up to turn off the light, something like that was a great help and, as if he had read your mind he said to you:
"Do you feel good in your apartment? Don't you want to move?"
The question caught you by surprise, wishing you could look him straight in the eyes but you were so comfortable curled up on his bare chest feeling his soft breathing and your skin touching with your cheek.
“I'm fine, it's a place I know too well to move” you replied.
Minho started playing with your hair, stroking it.
“Well at least let me do something for you… how about tomorrow we go shopping so you have new clothes to wear to the agency?”
“I'm good” you smiled at him.
You didn't know if truly a way for him to show affection was the gifts or if he just gave them to you because of the way he met you and directly related your relationship based on that. You were still very grateful, but sometimes you felt so guilty even though Minho was absurdly rich, he ran a snack company all over the country and 10 other countries.
"I want you to look radiant and... I hear myself that the other young people there are a bit… you know” you heard him say.
You knew exactly what he meant, they were a bunch of spoiled rich adults who were taught a little discipline going in there, all you knew was that they were sorted by age and being a major company opened up so many casting opportunities for you. You were so nervous that you could only agree with Minho.
"Okay… but you're really busy on Thursday, I think Friday you're more available."
“Now you know my whole schedule?” he added in a sharp, mocking tone.
“Sure I do, I plan it” you replied, letting your hand rest on his chest.
He laughed lightly, letting his body relax completely and closing his eyes slowly, he was so calm with you that, before he fell into a deep sleep quickly, Minho whispered:
“Good night, y/n.”
[…]
The next morning was not the same, you missed a little bit your old routine of arriving with Felix, going to breakfast together and talking about anything around. You felt like you gained something but at the same time you lost something important, you finally felt loved romantically and you could give that love to him too… but you felt it wasn't fair to lose the affection Felix had for you. You knew you made a mistake by telling him you liked him too, you were so frustrated that you thought that's exactly why you never liked getting too involved.
Felix answered your message late, you didn't want to insist anymore so you looked for him where you knew exactly where his class was, an act he would do, go find you. There were still a few minutes to go and there was still no one inside so you waited nervously at the entrance outside the auditorium until you saw his long blond hair pass through the hallway, he saw you and his countenance became more serious, you smiled at him, happy to see him while waving your hand, but your smile faded when you saw his expression. And he walked up to you, looking as handsome and smelling as good as ever.
“Hi” you said shyly trying to catch his eye.
Felix was looking down at the floor and seemed a bit annoyed.
“Hi” he replied curtly.
He finally looked into your eyes, you felt a relief to see them. You hadn't seen his big eyes in days, a new record for you guys, because even when he went on vacation, you did video calls all the time. That's when you realized that… maybe you had screwed up too much, you should never have treated him like a boyfriend, now the poor guy was paying the consequences. It was always all about him and suddenly he felt displaced. After you always told him you weren't ready for a relationship, suddenly you had one with a rich older man, which was hard for him to believe. Felix was really questioning… could a relationship work between a twenty-one year old, still a student, and a man whose life is planned out… he wanted to think that maybe things wouldn't work out so well, and he hated himself to think that he knew he would be there for you anyway if that doesn't manage to work out and disappoints you, he would just be there.
“How are you?” you spoke again not knowing what to say properly.
“Fine” he said again curtly.
You couldn't hold it in any longer and in a short sigh blurted out, “Felix, can we talk?”
Now you would be the one to talk, or something like that.
“I have a class.”
“Can we do it later?” you asked him almost pleadingly.
He watched you for a few long seconds, admiring every part of you that he might never be able to touch again; he nodded.
Then you walked to the other side of the campus to take your class, but you were so distracted, when you finished, you almost ran once more across to the other end to see Felix, but the place was completely empty, disappointing you, you were catching your breath and ready to leave, until you looked at him at the end of the hallway, with a smirk; he thought with satisfaction that the least you could do for him was to run to find him.
“Want some water?” he spoke more relaxed, back to being his usual Felix self.
You shook your head and quickly regained your posture.
“Where do you want to talk?” you asked him.
Minutes later, you both walked to a coffee shop, where once sitting across from each other you looked at him and realized you hadn't really planned what to say… you just wanted everything to be like before, not treating him like a boyfriend or kissing him, but you wanted to talk to him again about some terrible movies, go for lunch, have your movie nights… you felt like you were about to end a non-existent love relationship in a coffee shop. But what a cliché, you thought.
“Felix… just… I want you back.”
“You broke up with Minho?” replied Felix trying to hide his mild enthusiasm as he gazed nonchalantly into his coffee.
You knew coffee made Felix anxious; but you didn't suppress him this time like you always usually do. Felix thought this encounter was frantic enough, so adding it more with the feeling the coffee gave him, could make him immune, to a broken heart.
“No” you whispered.
Felix pursed his full lips in disappointment and continued to watch his hands intertwined in the hot cup.
“I want us to stay friends and” you rolled your eyes, just like Minho, you hated to apologize when you knew it was sincere and you had to admit your mistake, after all you were both born under the same zodiac sign, “sorry, really. I know I said something important to you when we were, you know, in a vulnerable moment."
Your gaze was submissive, begging for forgiveness. Felix smiled sideways in disbelief.
“Important to me? You mean it was nothing to you” he finely raised his gaze to you, seeing his dark eyes from a look of him you didn't know, such was hatred, “You know… you never answered my question, you just said crap like you couldn't leave him, like you were tied to him” he mumbled.
You frowned, stammering confused as to what he meant.
“That if you love him” Felix spoke again.
You took a sigh. That was the question he was referring to, and your answer was simple and honest, even if it hurt him to hear it.
“Yes.”
Felix pressed his lips together again and lowered his gaze again to his drink… he could hear and notice the sincerity with which you said it, that he had nothing more to say. It was silent for at least 2 long and tedious minutes, but you also didn't want to say anything and ruin it any more than it was. Felix pondered too much, he couldn't admit it and thought he could never do it, but he loved you the same way you loved Minho and you couldn't reciprocate to him, his mind was a continuous internal battle, still, he sighed, looked up and managed to say:
"Y/n… I need to think well, don't expect me to be well from one day to the next. But, I seriously don't want to be away from you."
You smiled gently at him and nodded, you were relieved that he looked a little calmer.
[…]
“You told him you loved Minho” Hari emphasized what you just told her, you nodded, “You broke the poor boy's heart.”
“Don't say that” you replied.
“And you do love him?” she spoke more seriously to which you looked her straight in the eyes and nodded again, “Wow, I didn't expect that from you between him and you.”
“That's why I'm here, isn't it the same for you with Chan?”
Hari was silent for a moment to which you panicked that you might have said something wrong.
“Chan and I… it's complicated, I guess I'm a realistic, do you really see me married to a man like Chan, or him to someone like me?”
You noticed the concern on your best friend's face. The afternoon had been busy for Minho just as you predicted and in the evening you told him you would be spending the night at your house as Hari was coming to visit, saying goodbye and kissing for the first time all day as he dropped you off at your house.
“Hari…” you cocked your head to the side and slid down on your couch to pull you closer.
“I'm afraid it's just… I don't know, it's really absurd, we were just supposed to be simple good fucks… but they involved feelings.”
Your heart stopped for a moment, she was starting to speak for both of you and for a second you woke up from your trance, maybe she was right. Still you spoke up.
“But, if Chan really loves you, you have nothing to worry about.”
She let out a sarcastic chuckle.
"Let's be honest, Chan at any time may decide to seek stability in a woman, something I will never be able to give him. In what world do you know the wealthy CEO stays with some random girl out of his league” she looked down ruefully, looking like she finally wanted to get it off her chest. “I'm afraid that being with him would be in vain because it would hurt so much to leave him.”
She was right, instead of helping you she was bringing you back to reality… you had to talk to Minho before you fell in love more, maybe leaving him wouldn't hurt so much. You loved Minho but you weren't sure if he loved you… and everything you had… it was because of him, making you feel bad.
“You have to clear that up with him, you have to know if things are serious so you don't hurt yourself” you told her, “Don't you feel he loves you?” you asked her, curious for an answer since you were completely unaware of being in love.
“He is… very good to me but…” she sighed and let herself fall back against the back of the couch, “maybe my fantasy will end soon and he will have to marry a wealthy and pretty woman with an important last name, his time is running out, his family is putting more and more pressure on him.”
“Oh, Hari, don't say that… what does he say?”
She let out a laugh again, now more animated.
“That we should move to Japan and forget about the people.”
[…]
Friday afternoon, you needed to de-stress, you hated being in love because it was just a constant worry all night and all day you were thinking Minho, Minho, Minho, and not in a sweet way, but in the ideology that your friend had, you were still not even sure if you wanted to marry him but, being with him would be a waste of time if things weren't serious. You were afraid that maybe it would last for years and suddenly… he would have to make his life, procreate a first born to inherit everything and that's when you leave his life after your years dedicated to him… or his years dedicated to you? because he gave you everything
You were so pensive that you didn't even enjoy his sweet lips when he picked you up from your house and greeted you.
Suddenly Minho's secretary brought you out of your thoughts by calling your name.
“Mr. Lee is waiting for you in his office.”
You blushed and nodded in sign of understanding, getting up from your chair and walking towards Minho's office, you could feel the heavy stares of your co-workers watching your every step, they weren't starting to like you at all and even less when their highly attractive boss was showing some extra interest in you.
You entered his office, finding Minho sitting in his elongated couch, relaxed with his legs ajar and the cell phone in his hand, once he saw you, he left the device on the table in front of him and smiled at you, indicating you to come closer with his fingers. You held back a smile, pressing your lips together once you were close to him; he took your hand and guided you to sit on his lap.
“Today is the last day you can be a bad girl and have office sex with your boss” he whispered naughtily in your ear, bristling your skin all over.
“Why did you have to tell your secretary to come see you?” you asked him, playing a little.
“Because I wanted everyone to know that I spoke only to you out of the blue to my office” he replied proudly, starting to kiss your neck with his tight grip on your waist.
“Come on princess, you have to give it your all on your last day, what will you do?”
You looked into his eyes… his gaze was a combination of sweetness and desire, his tender round but sharp eyes full of desire, then you looked at his lips, his perfect thin heart shaped lips… you hadn't had sex with Minho in days and suddenly you realized you desperately needed it.
“I'm going to ride your cock” you said excitedly between your teeth.
You kissed Minho, as you began to rub yourself over his growing bulge, making him moan in between the hot wet kisses you were giving him, Minho groping you, totally willing you to take control and jump on his cock over and over again. You quickly understood that this time he was letting you take control so you lowered your kisses to his neck, increasing his heart rate and making him so hard with your closeness. You unbuttoned his shirt, you were so wet and your pussy was throbbing hard, you wanted to feel his skin as you fucked him so you ran your hand delicately across his bare abdomen biting your lip, moving your hand down to his prominent erection in his pants, Minho moaned at your touch, completely yielding, you wanted to make him feel so good, so you kissed him again to turn on more on each other as you kept squeezing and rubbing his bulge and, once you had to separate to catch your breath, you got down on your knees between his legs, desperately unbuckling his belt and with a little of his help to lift his hips he pull down his pants, exposing his prominent penis sheltered in his underwear, your breath shortened, you were out of breath and your heart was beating twice as fast, Minho was watching you expectantly from above and you raised your gaze to make eye contact as you directed your lips to his erection, tracing soft kisses on it gently, making him gasp and stir in his own place, you continued to tease him, massaging his rigid cock through the fabric until you saw how little droplets of his precum pierced little through the fabric of his underwear, that's when you got rid of it, sighing at the sight of his swollen cock with its notorious veins and its tip so needy and red, you couldn't wait to play with your favorite toy, so with bated breath, you slid his smooth precum liquid all over his length until finally taking his whole cock and starting to play with it and your mouth.
You loved the dynamic of sucking your boyfriend's cock, feeling his entire length by your tongue, gently holding on to his balls, and starting to stimulate it all in your mouth, you sucked his tip hard, making Minho whimper and immediately held your hair so it didn't interrupt the process and he started to thrust you little by little, you were not mentally prepared for your boyfriend's big cock all the way down your throat, but you felt it slowly by Minho's light thrusts and his grunts, taking you to the limit and making you gag immediately. Minho smirked smugly at the scene of you being a complete excited mess, giving your best to please him, you kept enjoying his cock, at a delicious pace for Minho who kept panting mercilessly, not giving a shit that his office is not noise proof. You took your boyfriend's length a couple more times all the way down your throat, watering your eyes completely; but your mouth was exhausted and your muscles tense, to which Minho very thoughtfully, almost on the verge of his orgasm, moaned:
“Come here.”
You withdrew his cock from your mouth, so grotesquely that there was even a loud 'pop' sound as you did so. You sat on one of his thighs, licking your lips and trying to groom yourself.
“Show me how wet you are for me, are you princess?”
You nodded again with a mischievous grin, so glad he decided to touch you. You did your best to lift your tight skirt and spread your legs, Minho noticing your difficulty, he was decided to check for himself by caressing your pussy and squeezing a fingertip of his finger in your entrance, making your sensitive pussy cry more from your boyfriend's touch.
“Fuck, princess, take my cock, ride it now, take it all for me like a good girl, you deserve it” he gasped, almost tasting your soft insides embrace his choking cock.
Your legs trembled, you were at the peak of your sexual arousal and your boyfriend's sizzling voice encouraged you more. You removed your panties quickly to have your access only for him. And slowly you sat on his cock, letting out a cry as you felt your entrance stretch and try to fit the big intruder inside of it. You were halfway down his length and were already starting to whimper, still you continued, thrusting all the way in until you felt the pressure of his testicles in your pussy. You whimpered and held yourself around Minho’s neck and began to gently move in circles, feeling him on your belly.
“Move, baby, c'mon do it” he groaned.
You gasped in pain and pleasure and began to move up and down and back and forth, riding him animatedly, still in pain and pleasure. Minho in desperation and lust, unbuttoned your silk shirt, stripped it off your body and removed your bra as well, to leave your exposed body naked and licked your tits hotly and passionately, while the other hand massaged and squeezed your nipple if it was not being stimulated by his mouth. You gasped more, becoming aroused and feeling your liquid sliding down his member. You rested your hands on his thick strong thighs, urging you to jump, moving your hips feeling your boyfriend's masculinity throbbing in your loins, as he naughtily looked into your eyes with his big round brown eyes in such an innocent way while you two performed such a grotesque act, Minho licked your breasts delicately, gently biting your nipple, but stopped caressing you once you accelerated your movements, faster and deeper, you were about to cum on his hard cock, trembling you tried to lean on Minho's pecs and he in seconds took advantage to start penetrating you hard, lunging you to the fast movement of his hips, your ass pounding all way down to his balls, making your body jump while you started to whimper, you had given everything to fuck him subtly without his cock upsetting you, but suddenly there he was wildly fucking you, raising you to orgasm after a loud moan and spilling on him all your nice and shiny discharge of fluids. Minho continued to thrust you little by little, stirring his cock from deep inside you, still making you whimper for your sensitive insides, until he cum inside you, joining both cum.
Minho stopped moving and allowed you to catch your breath still sitting on his cock, but he, as he parted his body a little to witness the mess you both had made, he became hard inside of you again, you moaned as you felt it. Minho couldn't help himself, it felt so good to be in your tight pussy, the image of your delicate mons pubis with his cock buried in your tight hole and your labia sensitive and open at having him all the way inside.
“I'm going to fuck you now myself, kitten” purred Minho close to your lips.
You only saw him for a few seconds almost begging for mercy as Minho quickly pushed and carried your body gently and positioned you lying down on the couch, from which at least you had a cushion for support on your head. He still inside, lubricated by your each other's liquids, made you spread your tired legs, giving him the spectacular view of what was making him hard, his cock buried in your dilated orifice, and you, helpless and breathless surrendered to him with your eyes of desire, dilated pupils and swollen, glossy lips.
He held you by your waist with his left hand and with the fingers of his right hand began to caress your clitoris, from which your body shuddered and contracted a little. Minho started to move slowly while still giving attention to your sensitive spot with the gentle touch of his fingers, he was penetrating you deeply with constant and gentle movements for a long time, re-warming and preparing your walls and lubricating you more without noticing it.
Minho was 'gentle', as for you, he was fucking you deep making you lose your stability, until he pulled his body closer to you and gave you a dirty kiss, leaving you wanting more of tasting his lips and tongue in your mouth, but he pulled away from you a little still with his body on yours, watching you with a haughty smile knowing damn well what was to come, he withdrew his fingers from your clit and began to ram you at his own pace that made you whimper again, you felt the tip of his cock touch your cervix and his cock bulge in your belly.
“Fuck, kitten, you feel so fucking good taking my cock” Minho groaned.
Minho brought his forehead together with yours, gently brushing your noses as you felt his warm breath and kept ramming you hard, then he pulled his body away and held you by your waist, lifting a little off your hip, he pushed his full length back in, rubbing his cock hard and proud in you and kept pounding you, moving your torso like a ragdoll; you cried, you felt so full, your body writhing with pleasure at the feel of your boyfriend's cock in your core. And when you were so close and Minho felt your walls clench his cock, he gripped your neck tightly with his right hand, moderately choking you. Your gasps flooded the place, you stroked Minho's arm, his notorious veins bulging and without warning, you climaxed in your second orgasm, rolling your eyes and completely blurring your vision, this time making twice as much of a mess as the first time.
Minho bit his lip hard at the sight of your liquid slipping and falling little drops messing up the couch and let go of your neck.
“Fuck, it feels so good, I-I'm gonna cum too” he whimpered.
And he did. Releasing his thick white cum in a shot inside you once again, feeling the warmth of his semen in you.
He pulled out of you, feeling glorious at the scene of your sensitive pussy and your orifice expelling both liquids, Minho could continue fucking you, now in another position, just never get tired of you, but he saw you so tender, so exhausted and with your eyes watering that he decided to stop himself. He leaned over to you and gave you a sweet kiss on your forehead.
“That was wonderful, princess, you did great, let me clean you up. Do you need anything else? Water…? Another round…?” he said inches from your face.
After cleaning you up and helping you put on your clothes, when he was ready too, he sat you on his lap and held you like that for a while, feeling his breathing and relaxed while he answered important messages on his phone, at the same time caressing you tenderly. Later you came out of his office, totally disheveled, teary eyes, red cheeks, slightly disheveled hair and slightly messed up makeup, you wanted to go straight to the bathroom to touch up your makeup and go pee, but you had to go to your cubicle for your cosmetic bag so you still raised glances and superstitions in the air. It was undeniable what was going on in that office.
[…]
You had spent the sweetest weekend with Minho, that Saturday he planned to go camping with you, you had no idea, you thought it would be a small camping tent but Minho was more than prepared, he thought you looked cute wearing a plaid button down shirt of his that fit you big as you watched everything he did. You had an older brother so all these kinds of activities were done by your father with your brother, but it was nice to be with your boyfriend and with nature; and at night you were terrified to sleep there, but you had Minho next to you, sleeping huddled under the big tent. Sunday, you finally rejoined the city and you slept over at his house; having the sweetest sex, taking away the stress of having to socialize as you entered that new agency.
At least throughout the weekend Felix kept in touch with you via messages, of which Minho looked on with a raised eyebrow as you sometimes spent a considerate amount of time replying to him… but he had promised you and promised himself to be less jealous, so he let it go, after all, it was you he was with.
You told Felix in person the great news of your joining the company… which shocked him and made him quite happy… even though you always refused to let him give you that credit. Felix could not hide the fact that he was annoyed that you accepted everything from Minho and that you always made excuses for Felix. But that for you that had an impact in his personality, to accept something great from Felix was for you as if you were suddenly a gold digger and manipulative, that he was sensitive and delicate… while your concept of Minho was to be a serious and dominant man, and the one with a weak personality was you, however your perception of Minho is changing, you are getting to know his tender and sweet side.
And it was when the day approached, in the afternoon after the university, Minho sent for you his driver to drop you to the company; you entered with panic to which a woman escorted you to a room on high floors taking the elevator, the place was big and illuminated as nice as you always imagined.
You were welcomed once you entered the place, where there were 3 adults sitting at a table.
“You're already in, congratulations. We'd still like to have your acting practice video recorded, it's something we do” a woman sitting there told you to which you nodded.
“You can improvise with us this script and when you're ready let us know” the younger woman who led you in told you, handing you a script.
You sighed nervously and read it, studying it a bit, not wanting to keep them waiting to which you jumped in to say you were ready and, a short five minute scene, without much science or difficulty for you, certainly left them impressed.
Normally that was a kind of audition to get in, but Minho did everything he could to make sure you weren't rejected, yet the staff was so curious about you… whether you were going to make a girl they simply paid money to get you in… or whether you really had talent.
And, at last, you were taken to your first practice, where two young adults were already at the front presenting about a topic, you excused yourself as you entered and sat down without attracting attention… but it was inevitable, the girls ate you alive with their eyes as they saw you dressed from head to toe subtly and exclusively luxury designer brands, even your hair clip was from designer, making them whisper under their breath. Minho had chosen your outfit, which you accepted as you felt it was the least you could do as he fulfilled one of your dreams, and he dressed you, literally, putting on each of your garments, provocatively slipping on your panties while subtly touching you until he made you whimper and cum. A nice way to start your morning.
You caught the attention of a boy who was sitting next to you, without recognizing that he was in fact a celebrity; you were so nervous and focused on whatever the boy and the girl in front of you were saying. Twenty minutes of that course passed and you tried to keep up, you understood little, but you understood in a certain way; and in those 20 minutes that boy could not take his eyes off you, you felt it, but you thought you were going crazy to feel eyes on you when in fact it was not like that. To him you looked so familiar… your silhouette, your profile, he couldn't stop looking at you until he remembered and it was when the course ended, you stood up and he gently stepped forward so he could see your full face carefully, until he did, there you were in front of him, the pretty girl who was alone, wearing a white Versace dress and the one he liked her from a couple of weeks ago at an art event he attended. He couldn't believe it, he was stunned, he thought it was all about faith and destiny. This time he had to dare to talk to you.
You saw him along and recognized him instantly, Han Jisung, child celebrity and now social media celebrity, son of one of the country's top directors and co-founder of this company, you had heard rumors that he pursued acting as a career, however that his father wanted him to have a background and that it wasn't just about contacts and nepotism - as it was in his early childhood career - but as an adult his father gave him the opportunity to rehearse and earn acting roles on his own, so now he was practicing in his father's company, the best of them all, by the way.
You didn't make a big deal out of it, you weren't a fan of Jisung, you only followed him on instagram but he hadn't had any major roles for years; so he wasn't someone to make a fuss and idolize. With some nervousness, you approached one of the girls, ready to ask for instructions about how to get to the next room that marked your schedule, Jisung saw the confusion on your face and how you gently lifted the paper of your schedule, so he stepped forward, standing in front of you with a smile.
“Going somewhere?” he asked, his eyes wide paying full attention to you.
The other girls noticed and, like little immature schoolgirls, became jealous of you in seconds, your first impression was to walk in smugly -to them- wearing only designer and now you magically had Han Jisung's attention, they kept wondering… who you really were, whose daughter you were and why you appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the courses.
You smiled at the boy, relieved that you were getting help.
“Mmm, room C-14” you replied more in doubt than affirmation.
His smile grew bigger, showing his teeth and lifting his cheeks.
"I'm on my way there too. I'm Han Jisung by the way, but I'm better known by Han” he said, doing his best to look handsome and sound flirtatious.
You shyly told him your name and walked together to the new room.
The whole afternoon you lived a dream, unwinding in the real environment you always wanted to be in, you wanted to make love to Minho a hundred times to thank him and, the best part was when you were about to leave, although it left you thinking a little, Minho was outside in his car waiting for you and, an instructor stopped you to tell you.
“It is very common to open castings very often so by simply being part of here you are given the opportunity to audition, the calls are published every week in our private access page to the members of the agency, just to look if you meet the characteristics of the audition, you can also send the best options to your agent or public relations manager…”
Your eyes lit up, you could truly audition for real roles, the only small detail was that you didn't have an agent yet.
You walked out of your last session, walking happily to go into Minho's arms, however you hadn't noticed that Jisung was following you to keep talking, plus he didn't dare to shout your name to get your attention, so he followed you to the parking lot but stopped dead in his tracks as he saw you running into the arms of another man, leaving him perplexed. To your luck Minho was standing outside his car waiting for you and, you with a big smile that you passed on to him, he hugged you tightly.
He inhaled the sweet scent of your hair, burying his face in the hollow of your neck and shoulders as he held you tightly.
“Did you like it, princess?” he asked you softly.
“Yes, it was very nice, thank you Minho” you replied still hugging him.
You separated and he took your face between his hands to give you a kiss.
“Let's celebrate at home, I cooked you dinner.”
In the distance, Jisung saw everything puzzled, he really wanted to get closer to you, he was so curious to know who that man was and, when he separated from you, he could see his face completely, it was Lee Minho, the ex-boyfriend of his agent and publicist, with whom Jisung had also a crush for a long time, but she was always with Minho and then they broke up for unexplained reasons and now she had another man, but he always held a grudge against Minho and, if that wasn't enough, now he had you, the pretty unknown girl who was standing alone at that party. Soyul was Jisung's publicist and agent since he was eighteen, his beloved noona, and when he finally thought he could forget about her, you came along, but again, Lee Minho in his way.
On the other hand you without having the slightest idea got into Minho's car after he opened the door for you and when he was starting the car you caught his attention.
“Minho” he turned to see you right away with his eyebrows raised paying attention to you, you were embarrassed to say it but you had to, “…I think I need a publicist or PR agent, or manager… I really don't know…”
Minho blinked suddenly, “Oh my goodness, of course, princess, I'm seriously sorry I didn't prepare you sooner, I'll get you the best one as soon as we get home.”
[…]
You greeted Jisung, it was your second day and you wanted to continue adapting, but he ignored you and looked at you with a bad face, you frowned… thinking about what the hell was wrong with him. You continued the day without him saying a single word to you, he really looked annoyed with you, so before you left you approached him, wanting an explanation of his behavior or if that was his real way of being, sweet one day and the next acting strange.
“Han” you approached him, to which he turned to see you with a nasty look, almost offended that you called his name.
“Don't call me Han” he snorted, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder to leave, without saying anything to you.
The rest of the week was heavy, your utopia lasted a day, you were barely spoken to at practice and you were starting to get so tired that you hardly saw Minho, or enjoyed with him; you came home to rest since all you wanted was to feel your bed. And every day Jisung behaved stranger and like a real son of a bitch with you, as if he hated you. And to the little lack of friends, you had Felix with whom you did not stop texting, you told him every detail, from the color of shirt that idiot Jisung was wearing, to superficial things, Minho was getting more and more annoyed that you did not leave your cell phone and it infuriated him 10 times worse to see Felix's name on your screen, so one night when you stayed at his house, before sleeping, already being in his bed, he simply told you seriously:
“I want you to stop seeing Felix. Stop texting him” he said annoyed, snatching your cell phone from you, you looked at him perplexed, “Look at me, I'm here.”
You pouted slightly, understanding perfectly that he must have felt bad.
“Minho…” you said tenderly but he didn't reciprocate your sentiment.
“I'm being serious” he added annoyed.
You laughed incredulously.
“You can't forbid me who to talk to, what-”
“I can do whatever I want with you” he interrupted you, a heavy energy taking hold of him, “Go to sleep.”
And he turned his back on you, not giving you the phone and leaving you confused. The next morning he apologized for acting that way with you, yet he didn't mention Felix, Minho was really starting to get annoyed. So, you stupidly lied to him. Felix offered to do your first movie night that Friday since you hadn't done it for weeks, so you agreed no problem since you saw him happy again, being his usual self, you were greedy and wanted everything, you wanted Minho and you also wanted Felix in your life.
So you lied to Minho, saying that you wanted to rest in your apartment that day and you couldn't see him, plus you had homework and other things, he really wanted to spend time with you and offered to be with you in your apartment if you wanted to be there, which made you feel terrible, but in the end he agreed, giving you your time alone, apparently.
That Friday night you welcomed Felix to your apartment, who was very happy to see you alone finally having your time together. He came over to your living room couch, ready to put on the movie, of which he wanted to experience something scary, you laughed as he told you about it, it was obvious that Felix wouldn't even survive the first 30 minutes of the movie, he was easily scared.
“I have to pee” you announced confidently, “but you can start playing the movie and grab the snacks, I'll be right back.”
You quietly told yourself to pee; Felix was so happy to be in your apartment again, he had given it a lot of thought and… he came to the conclusion that Minho was just a relationship, but not an official engagement, so he would subtly do everything he could to make you look at him again with different eyes and find him attractive. Felix took the remote control, agilely looking for the movie that was ready to start, he was about to stand up to choose the snacks when he felt a vibration next to him, he thought for a second that it was his cell phone, but it was yours that was resting on the sofa, Felix saw Minho's name, indicating that it was a call and his blood boiled in anger, thinking that not even in your moments alone he would not leave you alone. So, without thinking about it and to play a little, he decided to pick up the call, rubbing it in that it was him who was at his girlfriend's house on a Friday night and not him.
Minho missed you and felt so bad for simply leaving you like that, plus he wanted to be with you, so he was ready to come visit you with a bouquet of flowers since you were trying so hard at your acting practice, and he wanted to ask you if you wanted some dinner. That he would be at your apartment as soon as possible.
Minho smiled happily as he realized you took the call, he took a breath ready to speak but remained open-mouthed as he got a big surprise.
“Minho” greeted a male voice puzzling your boyfriend.
“Who is this?” he said worried with a frown.
“It's me, Felix” replied your friend with an arrogant tone, amused by the situation.
Minho couldn't believe it, he could even speak properly, causing Felix satisfaction.
“What… what are you-, where is y/n?” he asked in desperation.
Felix sighed, almost letting out a growl, “She's… agh, busy.”
Minho's heart stopped for a second, the worst case scenario came to his mind, his trust was damaged, he knew deep down that you weren't like that… but even from the one he loved the most he expected the worst, sadly. Minho hung up abruptly, leaving Felix confused and grimacing, thinking he had really upset him.
Minho rushed to your house, unsure if you were really there, but he would still come looking for you. He didn't think twice, a strength came over him, he couldn't believe it. He had to stop beating himself up and getting silly ideas or he would start crying with anger and sadness.
You came out of the bathroom, with perfectly washed hands and a smile, Felix saw you just the same, so innocent with his freckles on his face and his eyes shrinking from smiling, as if he hadn't done anything wrong seconds ago. And you sat down next to him.
Exactly 35 minutes passed, Felix was already terrified sheltering next to you, covering his eyes, until the sudden sound of your door startled you both. You both looked at the same time towards the door in fear.
“Are you expecting someone?” asked Felix in fright to which you denied, “Why didn't they warn you that someone was coming, no one can just barge in like that…”
You stopped being dramatic and stood up to see who it was, the only people you warned the doorman that they could enter your apartment were Minho, Hari and Felix; you didn't have time to check if you had any message from any of the two out of three in your list, warning that they would come to visit you, you were already in front of your door, looking through the peephole; Felix stayed behind you, scared. And you found Minho, scarier than any horror movie…. He was going to see that Felix was there. You saw him again, he had a serious expression.
You opened up to him, and his eyes opened instantly, examining every part of you, from the time it took you to open the door, from every detail of your clothes and face; but it was safe, your lips were not swollen, your clothes were intact, Minho relaxed his gaze and hugged you tightly.
“Oh, y/n” he said.
You were puzzled by his action but he was so relieved, the last time he appeared by surprise at home, his ex-girlfriend was having sex in their own bed with another man, Minho had terrible memories all the way to your place, hoping that you weren't like that.
He broke away from you, and instantly tensed as he looked at Felix behind you, who had the same disappointed reaction.
“I thought you'd be alone today,” Minho said to you in a low, croaking voice as he looked down at your silhouette.
You looked down at the ground in sorrow, you hated lying to Minho.
“Felix… he stopped by and stayed.”
Minho tried to hide his anger, he took your face in his hands and looked at you tenderly but somewhat defiantly.
“Well I'm your boyfriend and I also stopped by, can I stay?”
You nodded looking into his eyes with your face in his hands, Minho gave you a quick kiss, looking at Felix fixedly challenging him, victorious that he is the one who can kiss you, to which Felix sighed annoyed, it was enough for him, he wasn't ready to see you like this with him.
“Movie night?” added Minho amused.
Felix was about to call it a day and leave, he would let Minho win this time, he couldn't stand seeing you together.
“You know what…” spoke Felix catching both of your attention, “I remembered that I have to urgently go to something with Rachel, I'm really sorry, I have to go.”
You frowned at your friend's clear excuse, Minho smiled pleased that he finally decide to think critically and leave you two alone.
“Felix” you whispered but he ignored you, he walked over to the couch to grab his phone and keys and walked over to you.
Felix gently grabbed you by the waist and planted a delicate kiss on your forehead, not only dismaying Minho but also you, you blushed, you didn't believe he did that in front of your boyfriend without fear. Minho's eyes widened in horror and he clenched his fist tightly restraining himself, he wasn't going to hit him for that, but he wasn't going to let it go either, he would talk it over with you right away.
“Goodbye” he whispered to you as he separated from you.
And he walked through the door. You saw him sad, you were going to go after him without thinking but you felt Minho's hand take your wrist.
"Don't. Go. After him” he said threateningly.
“Minho” you whined, gently breaking free from his grip and caught up with Felix in the hallway.
“Fuck” you heard Minho mumble in annoyance.
“Felix” you called his name and walked up to him, he turned hurt to see you and you not knowing what to say, you said, “I'm sorry.”
Felix sighed again and wanted to be honest with you.
“Y/n… it's still hard for me to see you with him, please don't complicate things any more.”
“I know, I'm sorry” you repeated again.
Felix approached you, he saw your regretful look, him realizing in seconds that he could manipulate you with ease, you would always have a soft spot for him. Felix took your forearms in his hands, forcing you to look into his eyes.
“I'll talk to you later to go out another time, okay? And please make him not show up.”
You quickly denied.
“He won't.”
“Maybe you can stay at my place next time” he smiled to which your countenance quickly changed.
“Felix… I can't do that anymore.”
He looked at you seriously and sighed.
“Just… let's get back together without being interrupted by Minho, okay? I have to take it slow.”
You walked back to your apartment, finding Minho annoyed with his hands on his hips. You closed the door behind you, you couldn't even defend yourself, you had lied to him; and he had promised not to get mad anymore.
“I can't believe my girlfriend chooses her friend over me” he spat in annoyance.
“I don't choose him over you…”
“How would you feel if a girl friend invited me to her house to spend the night watching a movie while I'm around her, a night when I could be spending it together with you” he exclaimed again annoyed.
You looked him in the eyes and thought about the situation; Minho was right, you wouldn't stand for that to happen.
You didn't respond and walked to your kitchen counter, with nothing to say, but he had a lot to say so he continued, fueling his anger.
“And what angers me the most is that he walks around… touching you, kissing you, rubbing me the wrong way as if you guys had something…” he said reasoning, suddenly a flush of anger came back to him, “or did you guys actually had something, is that it? Why is it that every time I see that boy he looks at me as if he knows something I don't” he began to raise his voice.
You looked at Minho again.
“Minho don't start with that again…”
You started to get annoyed too, every damn chance he could, he would claim you if you had something with any other man.
“With what? Why is that kid walking around like he'd already touched you?” he walked towards you, stepping in front of you.
Minho suspected it from deep inside him, but he wanted to hear you admit it. This time you averted your gaze, always the same question, and you had never given him a concrete answer.
“Did I have sex with Felix? Yes, once before you, but it was really nothing, why can't you trust me now?” you started to say bravely and at the end sadly.
Minho looked at you perplexed, one of his greatest fears… but hearing the word trust, he understood immediately, his trust had been broken in the past and he was afraid of getting hurt again. He remained silent for a moment and then took hold of your waist, calming and speaking honestly.
“I'm sorry… of course I trust you but… you know what happened the last time I trusted someone.”
You searched his crestfallen gaze. You understood what he was referring to but it seemed absurd that he would hesitate, you were crazy about him.
“I would never do that to you Minho.”
Because I love you. You wanted to tell him, but you held back and just hugged him, suddenly the man who could carry you with ease and loved control, became small in your arms.
When Minho broke away he couldn't hold back and kissed you slowly, making his way with silly steps to your room to make love to you, you needed the closeness of his body more than anything else merely sexual. You wanted him close, attached to you, being vulnerable.
[…]
The rest of the week seemed to go by slowly, until your agent sent you the perfect information and appointment to audition for a TV drama. He got it for you as soon as possible, exactly that day in the afternoon, it was the last auditions they were taking so you were in luck; you were so nervous, it was your first audition for a big deal. And, two days later, you had the most beautiful call between you and your agent, confirming you got the part, blowing you away. Your first major role, you were dying to tell Minho the news.
You didn't think the staff worked too fast because that very day everything was planned inside the company, you met the producer, the director and finally… your co-worker with whom you had to act a love interest. You were stunned to see that it was a slight enemy, Han Jisung. He didn't like the idea either, but you both had to pretend with the rest of the cast for the photo, it wasn't a leading role, but you both would play important characters for the plot; two young people in high school in love, the news had been so sweet for you until you saw his face.
You stayed for the small celebration to meet the rest of the cast and important staff, you were at the dessert table until you felt Jisung next to you.
“You still have a chance to give up the role before they release the official cast photos” he whispered to you.
You turned to look at him offended.
“I'm not giving up anything just because your wacky ass is craving for it, you do it, find another role and another girl to pick on” you replied him also with attitude.
Jisung let out an incredulous chuckle and was ready to return your aggressive energy with another comment, but his countenance relaxed when he saw someone enter; he left you there and went to greet whoever had arrived. You took no notice, but suddenly a strangely familiar voice made you freeze.
“Congratulations on the role” the woman spoke.
You turned around slowly and fearfully, finding Minho's ex-girlfriend. You couldn't believe it, of all the places and all the people in the city… she thought so too, it wasn't nice to see you.
Soyul opened her eyes in surprise at the sight of you. It was all part of Jisung, he just wanted to watch the world burn and see how the before and after in Minho's love life met.
“Nice to see you again…you're an actress now…?” she spoke to you hypocritically to which you nodded, “…how is Minho, are you still dating him?”
Jisung was surprised, he didn't think you already met, he thought then, Soyul still had Minho in mind.
“Yes” you hastened to say, “he is very well, busy for work.”
“I see he's still very busy… I hope he won't neglect you” she added, leaving you confused.
You were nervous but you didn't let yourself be exposed like that; suddenly you hear a voice from the staff calling your name so you rush over there.
Soyul was thoughtful at the name you were called by and ran over there… and asked Jisung if your name wasn't Choi Eunjoo.
[…]
You had a dinner to celebrate the beginning of the shooting and development of the project, you had already received your script but… you wanted to tell Minho the news as soon as possible; they were given the rest of the afternoon to get ready, you asked the driver not to tell Minho that you had left early and, once you arrived at your apartment you sent him a message asking him if he could come to see you at your place, he quickly answered 'ok' and 40 minutes passed… you thought he would cancel you at the last minute because something important must have come up at work. You didn't have a specific plan, you just wanted to hug him and tell him the news, you had bought some wine to relax the atmosphere and make it more sophisticated… but every time you were losing hope of seeing him, until you heard yourself knocking on your door, running towards it.
You found Minho, hidden among a large bouquet of flowers, until you saw his radiant face in an adorable smile. You opened your mouth in amazement and let him pass.
“For you” he said kissing your cheek, “you've been working so hard, princess” you took the bouquet, longing for it in detail, as if he knew you would give him good news. “You missed me so much you wanted to see me?”
You smiled at him and gave him a short kiss on the lips.
“Thank you, Minho, they're so pretty… I have news for you” you left the flowers on the table and Minho looked at you with attention, you were embarrassed to say it, but you did, “… I got my first role” you exclaimed happily.
A big smile formed on Minho, he suddenly radiated genuine happiness and rushed to hug you tightly lifting you up a little.
"Congratulations, really. You deserve it” he replied hugging you.
And kissed you tightly when you distanced yourselves a little more as you didn't stop holding each other. You blushed, you didn't know how to react.
“Do you want to celebrate somehow?” he added sweetly blinking suddenly.
“Oh… I have to go to a dinner in a few hours so I didn't think of anything special, other than seeing you.”
Your words made Minho warm. You both were inches apart and his closeness always took your breath away… he looked so good, suddenly something of another kind of love and affection for your boyfriend crossed your mind… you played with the collar of his shirt and raised your gaze, giving him the lascivious eyes, you wanted to feel good.
Minho smiled sideways at the realization and lowered his hands a little from your back to your ass.
“Who's more special than me making you feel good, right, princess?” he replied.
You nodded, and your small movements were interrupted by your boyfriend's lips on yours kissing you nimbly. He pulled you closer to his body and slowly caressed from your back to your ass, you were starting to get aroused and it was just… something about Minho wearing his office clothes made you so hot, he looked so good in his tight cloth pants and his button up shirts that marked his arms.
Minho started to undress you until he left you completely naked in front of him, your body was exalted as you felt a little spank on your ass, then he took it again and squeezed it hard kissing you again. You felt so dirty and naughty being naked in front of him and him still wearing all his clothes. Minho kissed you the whole time, as he moved his hand down to your pussy and began to caress you mercilessly, wetting his fingers all over your area. He was so excited too that in one swift movement, he turned your body and made you lean back against the edge of your kitchen counter, giving him the view of your back and ass. You watched eagerly as your boyfriend pulled down his pants and released his cock, you bit your lip as you imagined him fucking you, but to your surprise, he placed his member between your folds, making you close your legs and began to rub his cock between your thighs. You both moaned and you thought about how every time he came up with anything to tease you. The texture of his cock rubbing between your labia and his tip protruding from the other end between your clitoris and mons pubis, you gasped more and more, Minho was driving you crazy. Minho held on to the lower part of your arched back as whimpered at the tightness of your thighs together pressing his cock, moving back and forth until he let out his cum, sliding down your thighs and squirting the beginning of your vulva.
[…]
The next day you had an unexpected and beautiful visit to the practice. Minho was there. Apparently he was going to be an official and heavyweight sponsor throughout the shoot. You smiled discreetly at him and slipped away to ask him if that was planned before or after you got the part, you would be disappointed to know that Minho was in the way of you getting a part, but you noticed the innocence in his eyes, he had planned it all right after you told him.
Minho was friends with the producer so he offered him to stay and see a bit about the project, Minho accepted without a second thought, that meant more time to see you.
“They are the two main ones” the producer said to Minho pointing to two adults close to his age, “And the two young ones over there” Minho saw how they pointed to you and another guy, “they are other characters with love interest… but I see a certain attitude from the guy with the girl, I think they seriously should have chemistry if they want this to go well; besides they are adorable together, don't you think so?”
Minho didn't think it was funny nor did he find the gentleman's words pleasant and then watched as the boy grabbed your arm and dragged you away from the room, puzzling and annoying him a bit.
You walked out of there with Jisung totally confused, annoyed about whatever he would want now.
“Did you read the script yet?” he spoke to you curtly.
“What?”
“I refuse to kiss you, that won't happen, I told you to give up the role” he spoke annoyed.
Again you looked at him perplexed, you didn't even understand what his problem was… but he had a very big problem towards you, it bothered him that you couldn't be his and you were running around with Lee Minho.
You really wanted to challenge and talk back to Jisung but… he was the damn son of the owner of the company.
“Oh please grow up” you just put it to him saying, rolling your eyes.
“Then cooperate to make this go well.”
You opened your eyes in surprise, you saw his intentions to get dangerously close to you, but you shifted your body uncomfortably and managed to slip away and re-enter the room a little upset, Minho saw you and wanted to instantly run to you… but he had to keep it cool.
You were thinking that Jisung wanted to behave weirdly with you, maybe he just wanted to flirt with you so you would clarify that you had a boyfriend… and you couldn't tell Minho at all because you were afraid that he would react possessive again and you hated when he got like that and blamed you by, going back to your usual fight.
Minho saw you distracted while he was driving and stopped the car near the river view. You looked around because he had suddenly stopped and you looked at him for the first time after leaving the agency.
“What's wrong, love?”
You grimaced, urging a smile.
"Nothing… I'm… anxious about the new job” you lied.
Minho smiled at you and wanted to let your thoughts pass for a second, he just wanted to hug you and being locked in his car didn't help him.
“And you feel too tired to walk for a while with your old boyfriend?” he joked imitating an old man voice which made you laugh.
You shook your head and got out of the car, feeling the cold breeze, Minho ran to you and put his coat on you. You thought it had been long days when you were out walking with Minho doing nothing special, just seeing places together. He lifted your chin, making you look into his eyes, he couldn't hold back anymore, he took your face and brushed his lips on the bridge of your nose in a kiss.
“I love you.”
That surprised you and came to you like a cold gust of wind, which suddenly turned warm in seconds. All your questions had answers now. No one could take you away from him.
“You know I love you too.”
------------------
₊˚⊹ ᰔ TAGLIST: @stayceebs97 @linocz @kimseungminsprincess @xhazmania @strayzid @jisunglyricist @tinys0ftie @yaorzu-blog @kisses-too-the-moon
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doctorbitchcrxft · 3 days
Text
Salvation | Devil's Trap | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)
Warnings: canon violence, canon gore
Word Count: 7124
A/N: Whoop whoop! The end of season one!!! Thank y'all so much for reading and sticking with me. I've already been working on season two... ;)
Series Rewrite Masterlist
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John had taped countless papers, newspaper clippings, scribblings, and charts of his research on the motel room’s walls. He sat at his paper-strewn desk with the Colt lying on it in front of him. “So this is it. This is everything I know. Look, our whole lives we been searching for this demon right? Not a trace, just, nothing. Until about a year ago. For the first time I picked up a trail.”
“And that's when you took off,” Dean said.
John nodded. “Yeah. That's right. The demon must have come out of hiding, or hibernation.”
“Alright, so what’s this trail you found?” his elder son asked.
“It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California. Houses burned down to the ground. It's going after families, just like it went after us.”
“Families with infants?” Sam chimed in.
“Yeah. The night of the kid's six-month birthday.”
“I was six months old that night?” the younger brother asked, eyes puppy-dog-like.
You looked at Sam sadly. You knew he still blamed himself, and it broke your heart. John nodded again. “Exactly six months.”
“So basically, this demon is going after these kids for some reason. The same way it came for me? So Mom's death… Jessica. It's all because of me?” his eyebrows turned upward even more.
“We don’t know that, Sam,” Dean argued gruffly.
“Oh really? Cause I'd say we're pretty damn sure, Dean,” the brunet threw back.
Dean shook his head frustratedly. “For the last time, what happened to them was not your fault.”
“Right. It's not my fault but it's my problem.”
“No, it's not your problem, it's our problem!” Dean yelled back.
“Boys, enough!” you commanded, standing.
All three men looked at you, surprised, but followed your directions and calmed down.
“So why's he doing it?” Sam asked after a moment. “What does he want?”
“Look I wish I had more answers, I do. I've always been one step behind it. Look, I've never gotten there in time to save....” He looked down unhappily.
Dean sighed. “Alright, so how do we find it before it hits again?”
“There's signs. It took me a while to see the pattern but it's there in the days before these fires signs crop up in an area. Cattle deaths, temperature fluctuations, electrical storms. And then I went back and checked, and—”
“These things happened in Lawrence,” Dean said softly.
“A week before your mother died,” John replied, nodding. “And in Palo Alto, before Jessica. And these signs: they're starting again.”
“Where?” Sam asked.
“Salvation, Iowa.”
***
You and the brothers had been following John closely for hours as you sped toward Salvation, Iowa. Suddenly, John pulled his truck off the road. You shot a look at Dean, who pulled off behind his father.
“Goddammit!” John cried when he got out of his truck.
“What is it?” Dean asked.
“I just got a call from Caleb.”
Dean’s shoulders tensed. “Is he okay?”
“He's fine. Jim Murphy's dead.”
Sam was surprised. “Pastor Jim? How?”
“His throat was slashed. He bled out. Caleb said they found traces of sulfur at Jim's place,” John explained.
“A demon,” you said. “The demon?”
The older man shook his head. “I don't know. Could be he just got careless, he slipped up. Maybe the demon knows we're getting close.”
“What do we do?” the older son questioned.
“Now we act like every second counts. There's two hospitals and a health center in this county. We split up, cover more ground. I want records. I want a list of every infant that's going to be six months old in the next week,” John barked.
“Dad, that could be dozens of kids. How do we know which one's the right one?” Sam challenged.
“We check 'em all, that's how. You got any better ideas?”
You all shook your heads. John nodded at you and turned back to his truck. He slammed his hand on his trunk and hung his head low.
“Dad?” Dean asked.
“Yeah. It's Jim,” John replied, never turning to face you three. “You know, I can't— This ends now. I'm ending it. I don't care what it takes.” He got back into his truck, and you and the boys followed suit. No one talked for the rest of the drive into Salvation.
***
You went with Dean as you normally had been doing on cases when you and the Winchesters split up. You headed to one of the two hospitals to search their birth records. 
Dean noticed a beautiful receptionist and walked over to her.
“Hi. Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked him.
“Oh, God, yes,” he smiled breathlessly.
You cleared your throat. “We’re working right now, so…” You held up your fake badge to show her. “Can you get us the records of every birth in the last year?”
She nodded. “Of course.” She threw one last longing look to Dean before heading off.
“You wanna keep it professional, officer?” You quirked a brow at him.
***
Later that day, you and the other Winchesters were called to meet Sam back at the motel room. He’d had another vision where the same thing that happened to him happened to a baby he’d met in his search for the six month old that would be attacked.
“A vision,” John said flatly.
Sam was rubbing his temples painfully. “Yes. I saw the demon burning a woman on the ceiling.”
“And you think this is going to happen to this woman you met because…?” his father trailed off.
“Because these things happen exactly the way I see them,” Sam explained.
“It started out as nightmares. Then it started happening while he was awake,” Dean continued, crossing to the counter behind Sam to get some more coffee.
“Yeah,” Sam winced, “It's like the closer I get to anything to do with the demon the stronger the visions get.”
“When were you going to tell me about this?” John snapped at his oldest son.
“We didn't know what it meant.” Dean looked down shamefully.
“Alright, something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone, and you call me,” John stated sharply.
Dean threw his cup back on the counter, but you spoke before he could. “All due respect, dude, but Dean did call you.” John looked at you surprised as you continued. “He called you in Lawrence. Sam called when Dean was fucking dying. He’s got a better chance at winning the lottery than getting you on the phone.”
Dean put a hand on your shoulder to stop you.
“You're right. Although I'm not too crazy about this attitude of yours, you're right,” John told you. He turned to his sons. “I'm sorry.”
“Look, guys, visions or no visions, fact is, we know the demon is coming tonight. And this family's gonna go through the same hell we went through,” Sam said calmly.
“No they're not. No one is, ever again.”
Sam’s phone rang. “Hello?... Who is this?” He shot up next. “Meg. Last time I saw you, you fell out of a window… Just your feelings? That was a seven-story drop… My Dad. I don't know where my Dad is.” He then hesitated for a moment before handing the phone to John.
“This is John,” he said. “I'm here.” A few moments passed before he breathed out a name. “Caleb?”
Sam and Dean reacted immediately, and you recognized that as the name of John’s friend they’d been using as a resource when their dad was missing. “You listen to me. He's got nothing to do with anything. You let him go… I don't know what you're talking about… Caleb. Caleb!... I'm gonna kill you, you know that?” His boys approached him, taking either side. “Okay… I said okay, I'll bring you the Colt.”
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“It's gonna take me about a day's drive to get there… That's impossible. I can't get there in time, and I can't just carry a gun on the plane.” Another moment passed before John handed Sam’s phone back to him. He began to pace around the room. He explained to you that Meg had instructed him to go to a warehouse in Lincoln with the Colt alone.
“So you think Meg is a demon?” Sam questioned.
“Either that, or she's possessed by one. It doesn't really matter,” his father answered.
“What do we do?” you asked.
“I'm going to Lincoln.”
Dean scoffed. “What?”
“It doesn't look like we have a choice. If I don't go, a lot of people will die; our friends die.”
“Dad, the demon is coming tonight. For Monica and her family. That gun is all we got; you can't just hand it over,” Sam protested.
“Who said anything about handing it over? Look, besides us and a coupla of vampires, no one's really seen the gun; no one knows what it looks like.”
“So what, you're just going to pick up a ringer at a pawn shop?” Dean questioned.
“Antique store.”
“You're going to hand Meg a fake gun and hope she doesn't notice?”
“Look, as long as it's close, she shouldn't be able to tell the difference.”
“Yeah but for how long? What happens when she figures it out?” argued the older son.
“I just— I just need to buy a few hours, that's all.”
Sam shot back, “You mean, for Dean, (Y/N), and me. You want us to stay here and kill this demon by ourselves?”
“No, Sam. I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school. I want Dean to have a home.” John’s voice broke. “I want… I want Mary alive. It's just— I just want this to be over.”
***
After you and the boys had handed off the fake gun to John, you headed to Monica’s house under the cover of night.
Dean and Sam sat with the gun between them, and the three of you watched through the window as Monica and her husband finished dinner.
“Maybe we could tell ‘em it was a gas leak. Might get ‘em out of the house for a few hours.”
“Sam, since when has that ever worked for us?” you countered.
“We could always tell ‘em the truth,” he suggested after a moment.
You and Dean just gave him a skeptical look. The three of you cringed and said, “Naaahhh,” in unison, making you giggle.
“I know I know. I just… with what's coming for these folks…” Sam trailed off.
 Dean shook his head at his brother. “Sam we only got one move and you know it, alright? We gotta wait for that demon to show itself, and then we get it before it gets them.”
You looked back at the house for a moment before Sam spoke again. “I wonder how Dad's doing.”
“I'd feel a lot better if we were there backing him up,” Dean admitted.
“I'd feel a lot better if he were here backing us up.”
You continued watching the house in silence.
“This is weird,” Sam broke the silence again. “After all of these years, we're finally here. It doesn't seem real.”
“We just gotta keep our heads and do our job, like always,” Dean responded.
“Yeah, but this isn't like always.”
“True.”
“Dean, ah… I wanna thank you,” Sam began.
Dean turned to his brother. “For what?”
“For everything. You've always had my back you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone I could always count on you. And, uh, I don't know I just wanted to let you know, just in case—”
“Sam, stop it,” you said. “You are not dyin’ tonight. Nobody is.”
“Except that demon,” Dean continued. “That evil son of a bitch ain't getting any older than tonight, you understand me?”
Sam nodded, tears in his eyes. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and laid your head on his back. You continued watching the house from your position resting against Sam, who returned your gesture by holding your arm.
Dean then called his father. “Dad's not answering.”
“Maybe Meg was late. Maybe cell reception’s bad,” you suggested.
“Yeah, well.” He didn’t sound convinced.
The radio suddenly started chattering with static.
“Guys, it’s coming.” You looked out at the light emanating from the home beginning to flicker.
The three of you sprang into action, grabbing the Colt and running into the house. Once inside, you were confronted by Monica’s husband.
“Get out of my house!” he yelled.
Dean fought against the man and pinned him against the wall with the baseball bat the man had been holding. “Be quiet and listen to me. Be quiet and listen! We are trying to help you.” He clearly had no patience.
A woman’s voice called from upstairs. “Charlie? Is everything okay?”
“Monica, get the baby!” the man yelled back.
“Don't go in the nursery!” you and Sam cried at the same time. You and Sam sprinted up the stairs after the woman and began to hear her moaning in pain. You raced into the nursery down the hall to find the woman flung back against the wall rising up to the ceiling. You saw a shadowy figure with glowing, yellow eyes standing over the baby’s crib.
“Rosie!” Monica screamed.
Sam raised the Colt and pulled the trigger. Unfortunately, the demon disappeared into curls of smoke.
Monica screamed and fell to the floor.
“Where the hell did it go?!” Sam yelled.
“I don’t know!” you yelled back.
“My baby!” Monica tried to move toward the crib, but Sam caught her. She fought him as you wrapped the baby in her blanket and pulled her out of her crib. Milliseconds later, the crib burst into flames. You held the baby to your chest and followed Sam and Monica down the stairs and out of the house.
Just as you made it outside, the nursery window exploded outward in a fiery blaze. You ran over to Dean and Monica’s husband who had just regained consciousness. 
“You get away from my family,” the husband told you firmly.
“No, Charlie, don't. They saved us,” Monica said, running into her husband’s arms. You handed her baby over to her, and she began to cry. “Thank you.”
You nodded with a sad smile. You turned to the boys who looked up at the burning house. You could see a shadowy figure in the window surrounded by the flames.
Sam tried to go back inside, crying, “It's still in there!”
You and Dean pushed him back. “No!”
“Guys, let me go! It’s still in there!” He continued struggling against you.
“No. It's burning to the ground, it's suicide!” Dean replied.
“I don't care!” Sam yelled back.
Dean shoved his brother one final time. “I do!”
You looked back up at the house and watched the demon disappear. The flames rose higher as you heard Monica’s husband calling 911.
“We’d better get out of here before the cops show up,” you told Monica. “Take care of yourselves.”
“We will. Thank you!”
You shoved the boys back to the Impala and took Dean’s keys from him.
“(Y/N), you are not driving my car.”
“I’ve already done it, Dean, and you are way too emotional to drive right now. I’ve got this.”
“Fine!” He got in the passenger’s seat next to you. “But I swear to god if it gets one scratch—”
“I know, I’m dead.”
***
You and the Winchesters still hadn’t heard from their father.
“Come on Dad, answer your phone, damn it,” Dean grumbled as he paced around. “Something’s wrong.”
Sam stared at the wall; unresponsive to his brother.
“You hear me? Something is wrong.”
Sam’s voice broke as he talked. “If you had just let me go in there, I coulda ended all this.”
“Sam, you would’ve been killed,” you said.
“You don’t know that,” he argued.
Dean walked toward his brother. “So what, you're just willing to sacrifice yourself, is that it?”
Sam stood. “Yeah. Yeah, you're damn right I am.”
“Well, that's not going to happen, not as long as I'm around,” Dean responded.
“What the hell are you talking about, Dean, we've been searching for this demon our whole lives. It's the only thing we've ever cared about.”
“Sam, I wanna waste it. I do. Okay? But it's not worth dying over.”
The brunet scoffed. “What?”
“I mean it. If hunting this demon means getting yourself killed, then I hope we never find the damn thing,” Dean spat.
“That thing killed Jess. That thing killed Mom!” Sam yelled.
“You said yourself once, that no matter what we do, they're gone, and they're never coming back.”
Sam completely lost it and threw Dean back against the wall.
“Sam, stop!” You ran to the boys and tried to pull Sam off. He shrugged your grip off him harshly. 
“Don't you say that, not you! Not after all this; don't you say that!” Sam yelled.
Dean’s voice quieted. “Sam, look. The three of us… Dad… That's all we have. And it's all I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holding it together, man… And without you or (Y/N) or Dad....”
“Dad,” Sam cried and turned away. He walked across the room.
Dean stayed where he was and took a few deep breaths.
“Are you okay?” you asked Dean quietly.
He nodded, but kept his gaze on his brother.
“He should have called by now. Try him again,” Sam instructed.
Dean pushed a few buttons and raised his phone to his ear. “Where is he,” Dean spoke angrily into the phone.
You looked up at Dean, concerned, as did Sam. 
“They’ve got Dad,” Dean informed you, snapping his phone shut.
“Meg?” you questioned.
Dean just nodded.
“What’d she say?”
“I just told you, sweetheart.”
“Okay, okay,” you ran a hand over your hair.
Dean grabbed the Colt and tucked it into his jeans.
“What are you doing, Dean?” Sam asked.
Dean was already grabbing his duffel bag. “We got to go.”
“Why?”
“Because the demon knows we’re in Salvation, alright. It knows we got the Colt. It’s got Dad— it’s probably coming for us next.” Dean put his jacket back on.
“Good. We’ve still got three bullets left. Let it come.”
“No, Sam, I’m with Dean. We’re not ready,” you said, shouldering your own bag. “We don’t know how many of them are out there, and we’re no good to anybody dead. Let’s go. And we need help.”
Dean looked at you and agreed. “I know a guy.”
***
“Bobby?” you asked. You hadn’t realized he was the man Dean was referring to knowing could help. 
“(Y/N),” the man breathed out. He wrapped you in a tight hug. “How the hell are you, kiddo?”
Tears formed in the corners of your eyes. “I’m okay. Listen, we’re in a tight spot. I know Dean told you a bit, but…”
“Come on in,” he said. He checked behind you and the boys to make sure you weren’t followed.
“How do you know Bobby?” Dean asked, walking around the man’s cluttered home. Books were stacked high in every corner, and empty beer bottles covered his kitchen table. 
‘Would it kill you to clean every once in a while?’ you thought.
“He found me when I was nineteen and bleeding out in the middle of nowhere,” you explained. “Saved my life and took me in, essentially. And then, uh, I split. My stupid twenty-year-old self couldn’t admit that being alone sucked. I didn’t want anyone to think I needed help. We got in a huge fight, and I left.” You turned to Bobby. “I’m sorry, by the way. I never told you that.”
“It’s okay, kid,” the man drawled. He handed Dean a round silver flask with a cross on it. “Here you go.”
“What is this, holy water?” 
Bobby said, “That one is.” He held out the other flask he was holding. “This is whiskey.” 
You giggled while Bobby and Dean took swigs of the drink.
Dean handed the flask back to him. “Bobby, thanks. Thanks for everything. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t sure we should come.”
“Nonsense. Your Daddy needs help.”
“Well, yeah, but last time we saw you, I mean, you did threaten to blast him full of buckshot. Cocked the shotgun and everything,” the man chuckled.
“Yeah, well, what can I say? John just has that effect on people.”
“Amen,” you commented.
Dean shot you a look.
“What?” you replied.
He just rolled his eyes.
“None of that matters now. All that matters is that you get him back,” Bobby shrugged.
Sam dragged his fingers along the worn pages of the book he was reading. “Bobby, this book: I’ve never seen anything like it.”
He sat on the edge of the desk across from Sam. “Key of Solomon? It’s the real deal, alright.”
“And these protective circles. They really work?” He gestured down to the intricate drawing covering the worn page.
“Hell, yeah. You get a demon in; they’re trapped. Powerless. It’s like a Satanic roach motel.” Bobby tapped the center of the page. 
You laughed. You loved his sense of humor. You wished your dad had been more like him, and you wished you hadn’t spent so much time as a teenager trying to go it alone.
“I’ll tell you something else, too. This is some serious crap you kids stepped in.”
“Oh, yeah? How’s that?” you asked.
“Normal year, I hear of, say, three demonic possessions. Maybe four, tops. This year I hear of twenty-seven so far. You get what I’m saying? More and more demons are walking among us; a lot more.” Bobby sounded scared for the first time since you met him. 
“Damn,” you commented. “Do you know why?”
“No, but I know it’s something big. The storm’s coming, and you kids, your Daddy— you are smack in the middle of it.”
Bobby’s dog began barking outside.
“Rumsfeld,” Bobby muttered.
The dog stopped barking with a sad whine. You looked out the window to see the chain the dog was tethered to broken and the dog himself nowhere in sight. 
“Something’s wrong,” the older man said.
At that moment, Meg kicked the door open and sauntered in. Dean slipped the holy water flask out of his pocket, and you grabbed a knife out of your jacket.
“No more crap, okay?” Meg sang.
Dean tried to go after her, but Meg sent him flying into a stack of books in the corner of the room.
“Hey!” you yelled, trying to take a swing at her. She sent you flying back into Dean. You groaned in pain as you heard Meg continuing to go after Sam for the Colt.
“You okay?” Dean asked you.
You nodded. “C’mon.” You stood shakily and used the wall for support; Dean just behind you.
“First, Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun, and then, he leaves the real gun with you three chuckleheads. Lackluster, man. I mean, did you really think I wouldn’t find you?” you heard Meg telling Sam and Bobby in the other room.
You stepped into the door frame. “Actually, we were counting on it.” You smirked and looked up at the ceiling that had a Devil’s Trap etched into it. 
Dean spat, “Gotcha.”
You set to work tying Meg to a chair in the middle of the floor. She fought you hard, but there wasn’t much she could do given her limited space to move.
“Bitch,” she spat at you.
“Yeah, ditto,” you responded dryly. You stepped back from her.
“You know, if you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask,” she said sultrily.
Bobby came up next to you with a large canister of salt. “I salted the door and windows. If there are any demons out there, they ain’t getting in.”
Dean nodded and stood, moving around you to stand in front of Meg. “Where’s our father, Meg?”
“You didn’t ask very nice.”
“Where’s our father, bitch?”
You hated to admit it, but Dean’s interrogation was turning you on.
“Jeez. You kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh wait, I forgot, you don’t,” Meg smirked.
Dean lunged at her and put his hands on the chair arms. “You think this is a fucking game? Where is he?! What did you do to him?”
“He died screaming. I killed him myself!” she growled through gritted teeth.
Dean froze before slapping her across the face.
“That’s kind of a turn on; you hitting a girl,” she smiled.
‘Well, she’s not wrong,’ you thought.
“You’re no girl,” he said.
Bobby stood and moved to the older Winchester. “Dean.”
He turned away from Meg.
“You okay?” you asked him.
“She’s lying. He’s not dead,” he grumbled.
“Dean, you got to be careful with her. Don’t hurt her,” Bobby warned.
“Why?”
“Because she really is a girl; that’s why,” he explained.
You looked back at Meg and her labored breathing. Bobby explained that Meg had been possessed. Dean was furious at the idea of an innocent person being trapped inside her, and you loved that about him. You and the brothers immediately began an exorcism ritual.
“Are you gonna read me a story?” she quipped at the sight of the Book of Solomon Sam was holding.
Dean stepped in front of her. “Something like that. Hit it, Sam.”
Sam began reading the ritual off the pages of the book.
“An exorcism? Are you serious?”
“Oh we’re going for it, baby—” You’d never liked that nickname, but you loved how it sounded coming from Dean; just not directed at Meg. “—head spinning, projectile vomiting, the whole nine yards.”
Meg flinched at the Latin words coming from Sam’s lips. “I’m gonna kill you. I’m gonna rip the bones from your body.”
“No, you’re gonna burn in hell. Unless you tell us where our Dad is.” His smirk was challenging.
Meg just smiled at him.
“Well, at least you’ll get a nice tan,” Dean bit.
Meg continued to shake in pain and gasped finally. “He begged for his life with tears in his eyes. He begged to see his sons one last time. That’s when I slit his throat.”
Dean leaned down to her. “For your sake, I hope you’re lying. Cause if it’s true, I swear to god, I will march into hell myself and I will slaughter each and every one of you evil sons of bitches, so help me god!”
Sam continued reading while wind started blowing through the room.
“Where is he?!” Dean shouted.
“You just won’t take ‘dead’ for an answer, will you?”
“Where is he?!”
“Dead!” she yelled through gritted teeth.
Dean screamed, “No, he’s not! He’s not dead! He can’t be!”
You looked up at him. “Dean—”
“What are you looking at? Keep reading,” he said gruffly to his brother.
“He will be!” Meg cried.
Dean stopped Sam from reading with a raised hand. “Wait! What?!”
“He’s not dead. But he will be after what we do to him,” she explained breathlessly.
“How do we know you’re telling the truth?”
“You don’t.”
“Sam!”
“A building! Okay? A building in Jefferson City," Meg admitted, breathing laboriously.
“Missouri? Where, where? An address!”
“I don’t know,” she cried.
“And the demon— the one we’re looking for— where is it?” Sam interrogated.
“I don’t know! I swear! That’s everything. That’s all I know,” Meg whined.
Dean stalked around her, face set in anger. “Finish it.”
“What? I told you the truth!” Meg screamed, pulling against her restraints.
“I don’t care,” Dean responded.
“You son of a bitch, you promised!” She continued to fight harder despite the pain she was obviously in.
“I lied! Sam? Sam! Read.”
Sam pulled Dean aside. “Maybe we can still use her. Find out where the demon is.”
“She doesn’t know.”
“She lied.”
“Sam, there’s a girl trapped in there somewhere,” you said. “We gotta help her.”
“You’re gonna kill her,” Bobby broke in. “You said she fell from a building. That girl’s body is broken. The only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside. You exorcise it and that girl is going to die.”
“We can’t just leave her like that, though!” you protested.
“She is a human being,” Bobby said softly.
“And we’re gonna put her out of her misery. Sam, finish it,” Dean barked.
Sam hesitated.
“Finish it,” his brother commanded.
Sam obliged, taking a deep breath before continuing. Meg threw her head back and screamed, the demon leaving through her mouth in a cloud of inky blackness. It shot up into the Devil’s Trap on the ceiling, and Meg’s head fell forward.
You looked at her, unsure of whether or not it was really over. She slowly lifted her head, and you watched blood drip from her nose and lips.
“Oh, shit,” you muttered. “Call 911, get some water and blankets!” you ordered. “Boys, help me!”
Meg whispered, “Thank you.”
“Shh, shh,” you told her. “Take it easy, okay?”
The boys lifted her off the chair and she yelped in pain. You had them lower her into your lap, so you could cradle her head as a makeshift pillow.
“We’re sorry. We got you, it’s okay,” you assured her.
“A year,” she muttered sadly.
“What?”
“It’s been a year.”
“Shh, just take it easy,” Sam told her.
“I’ve been awake for some of it. I couldn’t move my own body. The things I did…  It's a nightmare.” Her voice was broken in soft sobs as blood spilled from her lips and nose.
“I’m so sorry,” you said, brushing her hair back with your hand.
“Was it telling us the truth about our Dad?” Dean asked.
“Dean—” you scolded.
“We need to know.” He looked at you sharply before looking back down at Meg.
“Yes. But it wants... you to know... that... they want you to come for him.”
“If Dad’s still alive, none of that matters.”
Bobby came back in with a blanket and glass of water. You helped Meg drink while the boys covered her in the blanket.
“Where is the demon we’re looking for?” Sam asked her.
“Not there. Other ones. Awful ones,” she answered weakly.
“By the river. Sunrise.” Her head lolled to the side in your lap, eyes never closing and reopening again. 
“ ‘Sunrise’,” Dean muttered. “What does that mean? What does that mean?”
But Meg was gone. You continued to brush her hair back with your hand, looking down at the poor girl’s face sadly. Tears rose to your eyes. You felt awful for her. Getting possessed and not being in control of your own body was quite literally your worst nightmare.
“You better hurry up and beat it. Before the paramedics get here,” Bobby told you. The four of you rose from the ground and headed to the door.
“What are you gonna tell them?” Dean asked.
“You think you guys invented lying to the cops? I’ll figure something out.” He handed the Key of Solomon book to Sam. “Here, take this. You might need it.”
“Thanks,” Sam grinned.
“Thanks... for everything. Be careful, alright?” Dean told Bobby.
“You just go find your Dad. And when you do, you bring him around, would you? I won’t even try to shoot him this time.”
You gave him a lopsided smile before pulling him into a hug again. “Thank you. I promise I’ll call.”
“You better, kid. Or I’ll hunt your ass down.”
***
About a day and a half later, you and the boys had rescued a badly beaten John from Sunrise Apartments in Jefferson City, Missouri. You’d found an abandoned cabin deep in the woods to shelter in to attempt to make a game plan to go after the demon. You could tell Dean was conflicted about the fact that he’d had to use one of the Colt’s bullets to save Sam but didn’t regret the choice at all. His confliction came from whether or not his dad would kick his ass to hell and back.
“How is he?” Sam asked. You were busy cleaning up the cuts on his badly beaten face that the demon Dean had killed gave him.
“He just needed a little rest, that’s all. How are you?” Dean questioned, referencing the beating Sam had suffered on the rescue mission.
Sam shrugged. “I’ll survive. Hey, you don’t think we were followed here, do you?”
“I don’t think so,” you said. “We couldn’t have found a more way-out-the-way place to hunker down.”
A moment of silence passed before Sam turned to his brother. “Hey, uh.... Dean, you, um, you saved my life back there.”
Dean smirked. “So, I guess you’re glad I brought the gun, huh?” That had been yet another thing the brothers had fought over.
“Man, I’m trying to thank you here,” Sam chuckled.
“You’re welcome,” the older brother replied.
“All done,” you told Sam. You crossed the room to his brother and sat down next to him.
Dean paused a moment before talking again. “Hey, (Y/N)?” 
“Yeah?”
“You know that guy I shot? There was a person in there.”
You sighed. “You had no choice, dude.”
“Yeah, I know, that’s not what bothers me.”
“Then what does?”
“Killing that guy, killing Meg. I didn’t hesitate, I didn’t even flinch. For Sam, for my dad... for you..." he couldn't stand to look at you during that admission— "the things I’m willing to do or kill, it’s just, uh, it scares me sometimes.”
You put a hand on his. “I get it. Me too.”
He gripped your hand tightly as John walked into the room. “It shouldn’t scare you. You did good.”
“You’re not mad?” Dean asked.
“For what?”
“Using a bullet.” The elder son’s face was twisted in confusion.
John chuckled. “Mad? I’m proud of you. You know, Sam and I: we can get pretty obsessed. But you, you watch out for this family. You always have.”
Something changed in Dean’s face. “Thanks.”
The wind suddenly picked up outside, and the lights in the room flickered.
“It found us. It’s here,” John breathed out.
“The demon?” Sam questioned, standing on high alert.
“Sam, lines of salt in front of every window, every door,” John ordered.
“Already done,” you said.
“Well, check it, okay?”
“Okay,” Sam said and left the room.
“Dean, you got the gun?” John asked. “Give it to me.”
Dean took the Colt out of his jeans. “Dad, Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation. It disappeared.”
“This is me. I won’t miss. Now, the gun, hurry,” John commanded.
Dean hesitated and looked down at the gun. You looked between the two men, confused as to what was going on.
“Give me the gun. What are you doing, Dean?”
Dean backed up. “He’d be furious.”
John turned away from the window. “What?”
“That I wasted a bullet. He wouldn’t be proud of me; he’d tear me a new one.” Dean cocked the gun and pointed it at John. He pushed you behind him, covering you with his free arm protectively. “You’re not my Dad.”
“Dean, it’s me.” John looked at him like he was crazy.
“I know my Dad better than anyone. And you ain’t him,” Dean responded.
“What the hell’s gotten into you?”
“I could ask you the same thing. Stay back.”
Sam came into the room, shocked to see Dean pointing the gun at John. “Dean? What the hell’s going on?”
“Your brother’s lost his mind,” John scoffed.
“No, he hasn’t. It’s not your dad, Sam,” you said.
“I think he’s possessed. I think he’s been possessed since we rescued him.” Dean began to get upset.
John protested, but Sam turned to you and Dean. “Dean, how do you know?”
Dean was fighting back tears. “He’s... he’s different.”
“You know, we don’t have time for this. Sam, you wanna kill this demon, you’ve gotta trust me,” John stated firmly.
Sam stepped back behind you and Dean. 
“Fine. You’re all so sure, go ahead. Kill me,” John spat, seeming emotional. He looked down and waited. Dean held the gun on him, but couldn’t pull the trigger.
“I thought so.” John looked up grinning; eyes yellow with snake-like slits running down the middle.
Sam lunged at him, but was thrown and pinned against the wall. 
“You son of a—” John threw you back against the wall next to Sam, too; cutting you off. Dean shouted your name but ended up pinned as well.
John picked up the Colt that Dean had dropped. “What a pain in the ass this thing’s been.”
“It’s you, isn’t it? We’ve been looking for you for a long time,” Sam stated.
“Well, you found me,” the demon grinned.
“But the holy water?” the younger son asked in reference to the bit he'd splashed on him during the rescue.
“You think something like that works on something like me?” he taunted.
You tried to fight against the force that had you pinned down, but couldn’t.
“I’m gonna kill you!” Sam screamed.
“Oh, that’d be a neat trick. In fact—” he put the gun down on the table, “—here. Make the gun float to you there, psychic boy.”
Sam looked down at the gun, but nothing happened.
“Well, this is fun. I could’ve killed you a hundred times today, but this... this is worth the wait.” He stalked over to Dean who struggled against his power. “Your Dad: he’s in here with me. Trapped inside his own meat suit. He says ‘hi,' by the way. He’s gonna tear you apart. He’s gonna taste the iron in your blood.”
“Let him go, or I swear to god—”
The demon cut Dean off. “What? What are you and god gonna do? You see, as far as I’m concerned, this is justice. You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter. The one in the alley? That was my boy. You understand.”
Dean mockingly groaned, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What? You’re the only one that can have a family? You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family?” The demon smiled maliciously. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot. I did. Still, two wrongs don’t make a right.”
“You son of a bitch,” Dean spat.
“I wanna know why. Why’d you do it?” Sam asked.
“You mean why did I kill Mommy and pretty little Jess?” He turned back to Dean. “You know, I never told you this, but Sam was going to ask her to marry him. Been shopping for rings and everything.” He turned back to Sam and walked over to him. “You want to know why? Because they got in the way.”
“In the way of what?” Sam asked.
“My plans for you, Sammy. You... and all the children like you.”
“Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh? Cause I really can’t stand the monologuing,” Dean remarked.
The demon strutted back over to him. “Funny, but that’s all part of your M.O., isn’t it? Masks all that nasty pain; masks the truth.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” Dean ground out.
“You know, you fight, and you fight for this family, but the truth is they don’t need you. Not like you need them. Sam: he’s clearly John’s favorite. Even when they fight, it’s more concern than he’s ever shown you. And (Y/N)? Your thing with her is pretty pathetic, I gotta say.”
“I bet you’re real proud of your kids, too, huh? Oh wait, I forgot. I wasted ‘em,” Dean challenged, smiling. John looked at Dean and backed up, putting his head down. When he looked back up, Dean yelled in pain.
“What are you doing to him?! Stop!” you cried, fighting against your invisible restraints even harder.
Dean began bleeding heavily from his chest. “Dad! Dad, don’t you let it kill me!”
You struggled as hard as you could to get free, but you helplessly watched blood flow out of Dean’s mouth.
“Dad, please.” Dean’s cry broke your heart just before he passed out.
“Dean!” you and Sam yelped. You were suddenly let go, and you dove across the floor to Dean. He slumped to the ground, bleeding profusely.
“Dean, Dean, look at me, baby, please,” you cried. You looked up at Sam pointing the gun at John as you pulled Dean into your lap.
“You kill me, you kill Daddy,” the demon taunted Sam. 
“I know.” He fired the gun and shot it in the leg.
Sam rushed over to you. “Dean? Dean, hey? Oh god, you’ve lost a lot of blood.”
“Where’s Dad?” Dean groaned, coming back to.
“He’s right here. He’s right here, Dean.”
“Go check on him.”
You stayed with Dean, crying as you brushed a hand over his cheek. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiled despite the situation.
“Shh, shh, stop it.” You shook your head. You turned the palm of your hand up that had been sitting on his chest. It was completely turned red. “Oh, my god.”
He grabbed your hand and rubbed his thumb over yours. “I’m okay.”
You turned back to John and Sam as the older man yelled, “Sammy! It’s still alive. It’s inside me, I can feel it. You shoot me. You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son! Do it now!”
“Sam, don’t you do it. Don’t you do it,” Dean pleaded.
“You’ve gotta hurry! I can’t hold onto it much longer! You shoot me, son! Shoot me! Son, I’m begging you! We can end this here and now! Sammy!” John begged.
“Sam, no!” you said.
“You do this! Sammy! Sam!” The demon suddenly fled from John, and the man collapsed on the ground.
John looked up at Sam accusingly. You called the brunet over to you. “You gotta help me. We gotta get him to a hospital now,” you cried. You and Sam shouldered Dean and brought him to the car while he groaned in pain.
You sat next to him in the backseat. His body was slumped over against the door, and you leaned against his chest to make sure his heart was still beating. Or, that was what you told yourself, at least. Despite the situation, you found the feeling of him against you comforting.
Sam got his father down in the car and began to speed away from the cabin.
“Look, just hold on, alright. The hospital’s only ten minutes away,” Sam told his father.
“I’m surprised at you, Sammy. Why didn’t you kill it? I thought we saw eye-to-eye on this? Killing this demon comes first— before me, before everything.”
Sam looked up at you and his brother in the rearview mirror. “No, sir. Not before everything. Look, we’ve still got the Colt. We still have the one bullet left. We just have to start over, alright? I mean, we already found the demon—”
Suddenly, the car was thrown to the side and continued to skid down a hill. You held Dean against you despite the blood soaking into your hair and clothes and silently prayed for this all to be over. You could feel the side of the car had been pushed in on top of your legs, and finally, the car stopped moving. 
“Dean!” you cried. “Guys!” No one was responding to you. “Dean!”
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld
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With young Donovan Desmond's scene in Chapter 99, it was interesting to see that he had had the same beliefs even as a child. In his chat with Loid and Damian in 38, he says "It is impossible to understand strangers. In the end, people will never be sympathetic to each other." In the debate as a student in 99, he says people are liars, and that "we could never know the true intentions of others, because we ourselves are hiding our true intentions."
Which leads me to wonder, if he himself was not involved with Project Apple, someone with similar beliefs might have been. This would explain why they would want someone like Anya, who can read minds and so can know people's true intentions, or at least get close. I suppose it seems obvious saying it like that, but I'm curious.
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worldofkuro · 2 days
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Painted Smile
Painted Smile XXVI
<- Previous Chapter I
Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.
Notes: I feel like I've been gone forever.... But well, writing Alastor's point of view are always the hardest. Once again, a little trip inside our favorite psychopath's mind. It's almost 16K long, enjoy it. Surprisingly, I don't think there is any warming...?
“ Don’t ever leave me.”
He whispered to your sleeping form, moving your locks from your face. It was still nighttime, maybe 3 am, it was normal for him to be awake at this time of the night. He was used to it and in a way he enjoyed being awake when you were sleeping. It was once more, a proof of how vulnerable you could be with him. How you trusted him. 
He stared at you until it was time for him to get up and prepare breakfast. He kissed your forehead before sitting on the edge of the bed, inhaling with a wicked smile. Killing, going to work, having you by his side… What a life.
“ No, don’t go yet…”
His smile turned soft when he felt you hug him from behind, kissing his cheek. You were adorable, did you know that? 
He was becoming more and more popular in town. He was narrating stories, making small talks and then he talked about the incident in the hotel, the fire. He couldn’t contain his smile when he talked about the people who got killed in the fire. Larry and his butler, the one two victims. 
The couple who was sleeping in the next room have been arrested, thanks to you putting Larry’s eye on their room. The police, mostly John, were very invested in this case. They said they found bloodied clothes in the closet, Larry’s eye and so on. He couldn’t help but laugh when he heard the news about the couple's arrest.  Everything was going smoothly, no one was suspecting you or him.
He even got to have dinner with Alyzée’s father, the mayor. He talked with him about John, saying you saw him trespassing on his property without a warrant, furthermore,  the bear trap he left. The mayor seemed very confused but he was drinking his words like water. It was so easy… He asked the mayor to stop his father’s disappearance’s case. He wanted to marry you as soon as possible. They could go back to the case after.
The mayor accepted easily, saying he was going to take John off the case because he didn’t follow the law but because of his family’s name, he couldn’t fire him from the police. Alastor didn’t mind, he just wanted John off the case and to marry you. You still weren’t aware of it, he wanted to surprise you.
“ I need to leave earlier, today.” He kissed your nose but he let you tug him back into bed. He stroked your naked back, loving the feeling of your skin against his hands. He chuckled when he heard you saying you couldn’t wait to be married to him. Oh, only if you knew…
He kissed you once more,  tickling you. Your voice was so smoothing he couldn’t help but wanting to hear more of it. But it wasn’t the right place.
He knew your father wouldn’t like to see him in your bedroom, you were supposed to be a virgin until the wedding. He almost scoffed each time your father said you both needed to wait until the wedding until you could sleep together. You have been together since childhood, your bond was more than just some sexual intercourse. He enjoyed your body, naked like today, because it was so pretty. Your hips would move sensually, the bones showing against the skin… You were beautiful. You were a piece of art. Sometimes, if you were feeling in the mood, you would play with him, building up tension but you never went further than that in your bedroom. Usually, he would just admire you while you were reading or sleeping on your bed.
You asked him if you could take a shower with him which he accepted. He was looking at you as you played with his hair, he didn’t know why you enjoyed his curls so much but if you were smiling, it was all that mattered. You were blushing, were you really finding him attractive?
He knew he was good looking, men or women would try to hit up on him, but they only saw his mask. You, you were seeing him as he was and yet, you find him pretty, attractive. How crazy of you.
“ Don’t we look amazing?” you laughed.
“ Always.” he kissed your forehead with a soft smile.
He cleaned your body, being gentle with your skin. When you asked him if you could do the same, he stayed silent for a minute. You were looking at him with those shining eyes, with so much trust… He nodded.
You cleaned him, being so mindful of your touch. You sometimes kissed his scars, making him smile. You were so cute. 
You both left the bathtub, and he let you do your hair. He closed one eye as you let one curl on his forehead, smiling brightly. He used to slicked his hair back when he was working but if you wanted this hairstyle on him, who was he to say no?
He smirked when you looked for his watch and used your powers to throw it at him. His shadow took it, making you pout and of course it went toward you, poking you until you gave it attention.
“ I shall come back tonight with a surprise. Be nice.” He kissed the top of your head before leaving to work.
He entered into his workplace, Victor sprinting toward him with a big smile, telling him about the new records his podcast did last time. He smirked, of course, he was Alastor Sanglar,  he was the best. He went into his office, closed his door and began his usual podcast. He played jazz and blues, talking about what was going on in New Orleans.
But then, he heard loud footsteps coming toward his door. He squinted his eyes, looking toward the noise, still talking into his microphone. He smirked when John bashed his door open. Just as planned.
“ Alastor, you bastard!” shouted John as he walked toward him, Victor behind him, trying to stop him from coming closer to him. He held his hand in front of him, telling Victor to back off with his hand.
“ Well, ladies and gentlemen, please, welcome John Felleur, an officer from the police of New Orleans. Let the lad take place.”  He said, amused. John’s face was red from anger, he already knew why the man had come to him: the mayor should have told him the big news! “ Well, what can I do for you, officier?” 
“ I have been taken away from the case because of you! You knew I would find dirt on you.” Alastor almost laughed out loud, what a poor fool… He pushed a button which made an “ Oouh” sounds, like a crowd was here, watching the spectacle. He was going to have so much fun, John was already digging his own grave.
 “ Oh yes. You must have heard it, folks, but my father has gone missing. The one on the case was no one but the successful John Felleur. The man has been on my back since then, slavery is abolished you know?” He chuckled, leaning back against his chair.
“ Because I know you have something to do with it. Just like last week’s fire, I’m sure I saw you there. You, fucker, have been manipulating everyone around you and now you wished to get married? You even took her away while I could be–”
Ah, he shouldn't talk about you.
“ Ooh.. Is John insecure, pursuing allure? Fitting between my father’s case and the hotel’s one, is nothing working?”
“ You–!”
“ Every day, he’s got a new failure!”
“ You’re looking at justice! He is the one behind all of it!”
“ Is John as strong as he purports? Or is it based on his support? He’d be powerless without his family’s name. And here’s the sugar on the cream. He asked my fiancée to be his wife.”
“ Hold on!”
“ She said no, and now he’s pissy, that’s the tea!” Alastor’s laughter echoed into the room. How fun it was! 
“ Alastor !” you heard John shout. “ I’m not weak. You can’t kill me!”
“ I’ll make you wish I would, my dear friend.” Alastor laughed.
“ I don’t bend to no one.” he spat.
“ Be careful, what doesn’t bend usually breaks.” Alastor hummed. “ Well, folks. I shall leave you, as you can see, I’ll need to have a little chat with our rude friend.  It will be fun.” he chuckled before standing up, letting Victor handle his broadcast.
He left his office, and stood before John, with two policemen by his side. Was John trying to intimidate him? He almost scoffed. He let the men speak in front of him, crossing his arms against his torso. He listened to John, who was warning him to stop getting closer to the mayor or other high positioned people.
He turned his eyes to his side, he felt like something warm was touching his hand. He looked at his hand and then looked back at the men speaking to him. He asked the men to leave before going back to his office. He sat on his chair and sighed.
“ Those fuckers…” He passed his hands on his face before looking back at his note. Now, he needed to make some changes. He wrote in his notebook before jerking up when his paper sheet went into the air. He looked around him, his eyes becoming red. He could see some kind of form in front of him… 
He watched as your name appeared as the paper folded itself. He blinked. For a second, he felt his heart stop. You couldn’t be dead right?  You wouldn’t do this to him. You were to be alive next to him even after death. You couldn’t be dead. You couldn’t. You couldn’t. You couldn’t.
“ Darling?”
He could see the paper folded itself with a yes. His body relaxed, he couldn’t feel a bad energy as the paper moved around happily. You weren’t dead. You just..project your spirit away from your body. How amazing…
“ This is really impressive.” He smirked, looking at the direction he knew you would be. You always were moving around when you were in an excited mood, always bouncing around him, it was cute. 
He felt a warm sensation against his cheek and looked at his side.“ Your hand is next to my face right? Your energy has always been warm…” he sighed with a soft smile. “ Why are you here, dearest? Have you heard our dear John coming to my show? What a performance, right?” he laughed , imaginating you grinning next to you.
He watched as the paper flew enthusiastically around him. He crossed his arms on his torso with a smirk on his face. He knew you were at Alice, she must have told you his surprise. He already knew the mayor talked to Alyzée, who gossiped with Alice who couldn’t keep her mouth shut. She couldn’t keep a secret, huh? Was it karma because he used her secret against her ? Was that karma because he took a picture of Alyzée and Alice kissing and sended to Larry?
…. Maybe he didn’t care.
“ Darling, you should go back. As soon as I’m finished, I’ll come to you so we can talk about the wedding ceremony…” he took the paper from your invisible hand with a soft smile. He felt a warmth sensation on his lips before it was tugged away from him.
He went back on his chair, chuckling before laughing out loud. 
You were amazing, a strength that needed to be veneered. You were his, his wife, his, his, his hishishishishis.
He stopped laughing, his smile dropping. He should write notes for his next broadcast, he would have to go to your house so he could tell the good news to your father and mother about your wedding. 
He started writing, but jerked up his head when he heard commotion outside of his office. He stood up and opened his door and smiled when he saw the mayor walking toward him with a huge smile of his face.
“ Alastor! I have big news for you, young man!”
He tried so hard to contain his satisfied smile when the mayor told him he could marry you in two weeks. In two weeks, you will be his in front of your friends and your family. In human terms, you were about to be bound together forever.
He shook the mayor’s hand after having a little chat and then took his stuff before going toward your parent’s home. Oh, so many good news was to be shared today. He smirked as his shadow moved around his feet, as happy as he felt.
He almost bought flowers on his way, but was too eager to share the big news with you. He knocked on your parent’s home’s door and smiled at your father when he let him enter. He shook his hand as he heard you walk down the stairs. He could recognize your footsteps in the middle of a dance party.
He smiled when you hugged him, nuzzling against his chest. He knew your father didn’t like when you both were too close, but he couldn’t refuse a hug from his soon-to-be wife, right?
“ Well, I came here to give you some happy news. I talked with the mayor, he is ready to hold our wedding in two weeks.”
He smirked when he saw his mother hug you but his attention quickly turned to your father. He seemed confused, after all, your wedding was supposed to be held after his father’s disappearance’s case was solved. Which would never be.
After half-lying to your father, he flinched when your dad slapped his shoulder. Well, manipulating someone was getting easier and easier, it was almost boring. But, oh, well you were there, happy, smiling at him, seeming as eager as him to finally prove your affection for each other.
He bantered with Alice and finally she went home. You were always saying Alice and him liked each other but he couldn’t care less about Alice. She was just a tool, he didn’t feel anything else, she was like a pen he needed to write a letter. He would be annoyed if the pen broke, but he could just take another.
“ Where should our honeymoon be?” you turned toward Alastor.
“ Mhn… Somewhere near the ocean maybe? I’ve never been there.” he smiled at you. He knew you didn’t know how to swim, and he needed to take care of that. It was dangerous for you to have such weakness.
“ If you are afraid of drowning, do not be afraid my dear, I’ll be by your side.” He kissed the back of your hand. You smiled softly at him.
“ I did want to go somewhere warm.” 
He looked at you, warmer than here? He looked at you, imagining you in your wedding dress, staring at him and only him.
“ Who should we invite ?” 
“ Well, Alice will be the maid of honor,” you smiled as he rolled his eyes. He was amused, it was cute how you were friends with Alice. ” My family will come, so I shall invite Alyzée and some other friends but not too many.”
“ Mhn.. I guess I need to bring some people too. Well, I guess Mimzy could come, maybe Victor, if he isn’t too noisy about it.” He thought out loud. “ I don’t have any family left but my mother, which is enough.”
“ On our honeymoon, I think I will be able to do the spell.” he looked at you with a fond smile. He read everything he could find on this spell; he talked with Kalfu, everything was going to be perfect. “ I can’t wait.”
You grasped his face and kissed him fiercely. You took a step back before he could kiss back, jumping on the grass with a big grin.
He couldn’t contain his smile. That was what he wanted. You were smiling thanks to him. Being happy to be caged with him forever and ever. He looked as you laid down on the grass, you were so beautiful… You always seemed so out of reach and yet, here you were, giving yourself to him without being afraid of what he was.
“ What do we need for.. the ritual?”
“ Well, we need another powerful spirit.” He sat next to you, taking away the leaves from your hair. “ I will try to invoke him this weekend.”
“ Can I be there?” You looked at him.
“ Well, I can’t say no to you.” He kissed your forehead with a smirk. “ We’ll need enough offerings…”
“ Now that you mention it, I need to give him an offering..”
“ Yes, what happened back then?”
“ My soul left my body,” you said proudly, “ so I could come see you.”
“ It was really impressive,” he said, looking at you with pride. He was really impressed, he didn’t even know such things were possible. You would always surprise him, how fun. You chuckled as you explained to Alastor how you managed to do that and that his shadow was being able to see you when you were in that state. “ I see… Don’t do it somewhere when you aren’t safe. I don’t know what could happen if you were to be forced out of your trance.”
You nodded, placing your head against his shoulder. Soon, you would be wed, chained to hil without any ways of escaping.
—----
He was confident.
He was handling everything well, the preparation for the wedding, for the honeymoon and with the rituals. Everything needed to be perfect, it was something that needed to be perfect. What was irritating was that he couldn't see you as often as he wished he would. He would always try to come at night, like a shadow, never being seen. 
Alastor placed a cup of black coffee on a table with a cigar and wrote symbols with chalk on the walls. He was excited to meet this spirit, the spirit who rules over death: Baron Samedi. This spirit was invoked to contact and communicate with the dead, he determines whether they could come visit or not. He may be asked to remove bothersome ghosts and invoked to ward off death. He is a powerful healer. Baron Samedi rules the cemetery: no one can die until he gives permission for their grave to be dug.
He looked at you, you seemed to be nervous but he reassured you easily. You didn't have to be here if you didn't want to. He would get the work done. Furthermore, he wasn’t really enjoying the fact that you were in a situation where he didn’t have full control. But when did a situation escape him? He would control anyone to achieve his goals. Spirits, Gods, Humans or Demons.
He kissed you deeply before walking in front of the table and began his incantation. He closed his eyes, feeling coldness seeping into his bones, into his blood faster than usual. He held his head as a freezing pain smashed into his head. 
What was going on?
“ Alastor…”
“ Are you okay, dearest?” He grabbed your hand when he saw you stumbling toward him. Did he mess up his incantation?
“ Aren’t you adorable?”
He turned his head toward the voice and squinted his eyes. There was a man smoking the cigar he had put on the table, a moment ago, staring at you with an amused smile. The gentleman looked like an older, dark-skinned man in formal attire, dressed completely in black. He was wearing a black top hat, black suit and impenetrable black sunglasses which were missing a lens. He had read that the missing lens was showing the eyes that could see  in the underworld.
“ You asked for me?” he smirked before sitting on a chair, taking the cup of coffee. “ Well, I already know why. It’s not everyday I see Papa Legba and Kalfu in the same room. How are you doing, my good fellows?”
He turned his head toward a presence he wasn’t used to feeling. And for the first time, he saw him. The spirit he first tried to approach, the spirit which worked his mother to protect him.
Papa Legba.
He looked like a tall old black man, with a strangely warm expression. He was smoking a long pipe while staring at you, his back against the door. He looked oddly human if not for the wisdom in his eyes that seemed so deep, an entire life wouldn’t be enough to hear all about his knowledge.
“ Must be nice to finally meet me, right,  little missy?” 
You turned your eyes toward the voice and yelped when you saw a man crouching next to you, his red eyes staring at you with a mocking smile. He almost rolled his eyes as Kalfu enjoyed your scared expression.
“ Well, it’s nice to finally meet all of you, gentlemen.” Alastor spoke with his usual confidence. Those three spirits weren’t as impressive as he thought. “ I didn’t expect to have all of you with us today, but it might be for the best.” He beamed at the spirits as he took a chair to sit down.
“ You truly have beautiful eyes.” you turned around as you felt your hair being touched. You looked at The Baron Samedi who was looking at you, still seeming amused. Alastor could feel his blood boiling. How dared he touch you?  You took a step back before being tugged on Alastor’s laps. You looked down and smiled softly at his shadow which was frowning, keeping its hand around your waist.
“ You really didn’t change, Alastor !” Baron Samedi laughed before sitting on the table, smoking his cigar. “ I used to heal you when you were unconscious after your father was done punishing you, your Mother was always asking for my help, what a caring woman.” 
He tensed as he remembered his father’s assault. He always wondered how he never died under his father’s fists, how his body always was he aling quickly and easily.  You stroked his hand while staring at the three spirits in front of you. “ Well, it’s not for being healed that I called you.”
“ ‘I’ ? Boy, you didn't call me all alone. Your darling is also in it.”
“ Nonsense. She didn’t prepare anything to summon you.” Said Alastor, his smile twitching. He was sure of it. Not a single drop of your blood or any other things coming from you was used to summon them. You weren’t bound with this summoning. He made sure of it.
“ Why? Am I connected to Alastor in some way?” 
“ Well, little lady, of course. If not, why would you be able to see me, summon me or even work with spirits?” Papa Legba asked you with his calming voice.
“ Alastor already created some kind of bond between the two of you, but you already saw it, right little missy?” Kalfu smirked at you, making Alastor grimaced. Seemed like Kalfu enjoyed scaring you. 
“ What are you talking about?” You asked, squeezing Alastor’s hand.
“ When you asked for your soul to leave your body to see Alastor. Didn’t you see a red thread linking you to him?”
Alastor looked at you, stroking your thigh in a soothing manner. He was curious, did you really see something like that?
“ But… It was so.. weak?”
“ Of course!” Laughed Baron Samedi. “ Alastor bound you the first time he tried to summon our dear Papa Legba, he had a tissue with your blood on it. Blood is really important here. That’s why when Alastor summoned Legba, he went toward you because the first thing he felt was your blood.”
“ And then, I came in, because I wanted to work with Alastor. This boy has a lot of potential.” Kalfu smirked. “ It’s in his blood.”
Alastor was conflicted. The air he felt when he first tried to summon Papa Legba was the spirit itself…? He had managed to summon two powerful spirits in less than one hour. They were saying he had potential. Well, he wasn’t surprised, but he wanted more. But for now, he needed to understand before acting.
“ Then, how did the bound apparead when I didn’t do anything to make it happen?” Asked Alastor, looking at the spirits. 
“ Well, like Kalfu told you, you have huge potential. You could have created the bond, you already had summoned me and him. You made the first step but stopped when you made a deal with Kalfu for power. That is why, right now, your bond is half-made.” Legba said, inhaling smoke from his pipe. “ But now, your other half is working with me, which makes you, in a twisted way, work with me.”
“ But you told me you would cut our deal if I were to work with..Kalfu?” you asked. “ Alastor is working with him, and yet..?”
“ Of course, little lady. Even if your control on your spirit is impressive, it’s not in your blood. You can do all that because Alastor ‘tainted’ it. If he were at his most powerful, and your bond were created, you would have maybe half of his abilities. Your body wouldn’t be able to take more.” He said to you with a sad smile. “ You would lose yourself to the spirits and end up mad.”
“ Or dead with me!” said Baron Samedi with a laugh which echoed in the basement. “ I’m joking, Alastor.” he smirked when he saw Alastor’s hand clenching on your waist. He didn’t like any of those outcomes, if he had to stop you from using spirits, he would stop you, no matter how.
“When you will be powerful enough, trust me, Legba’s protégée won’t be able to do anything against you. You could just use the shadow to bring her to you.” Kalfu smirked, staring at Legba with a competitive glint in his eyes. 
Now… that was interesting. Frist of all, Kalfu was referring to you as Legba’s protégée. It was a heavy title he didn’t necessarily want you to hold.  Being the protégée of a spirit, even more for the powerful one, was honorable. Kalfu had chosen Alastor as his protégé, that was what the spirit told him.  It meant some kind of protection… 
Second of all, he was going to be so powerful he was going to be able to bend you at his will.  He smirked when he saw your face, you seemed to enjoy the thought of being at his mercy.  You were just like him… 
But you surprised him once more, asking Baron Samedi for his healing power. You were insane, wanting to protect him at all cost. You were insane, mad,crazy, just like him. It was oddly comforting.
“ So, you would want to work with me, for my healing capacity? You know, it’s different from working with Legba? You are asking a skill of mine. Papa Legba just gives access to a spirit to work with you, the spirit chooses when to go back, if Legba allows it,  unless you ask him to leave. You’re asking for a power that belongs to no small spirits, the price will hurt.”
“ Then, she doesn’t need it.” said Alastor, forcing you to look at him. “ I won’t need this power, who could hurt me?” He asked you with his usual charming and confident smile. A healing power could be very useful, indeed, but if it meant you would get hurt, he didn’t need this power. His priority was you. You, you, you, you.
But, you managed to hold this power, making a deal with Baron Samedi. You would be able to heal him and yourself, what a power… You were beautiful, your red eyes having a purples hues. You fell asleep quickly after that, letting him and the spirits talk about the real deal they were supposed to make. 
He would have to take Eamon to create a material bound, the spirits would then possess the both of you before doing their things. He almost winced when Kalfu said that it was going to hurt you. He didn’t care if it would hurt him, he could take it. You… You, he didn’t want you to feel anything pain that wasn’t created by him.
After some time, he knew all he needed to know about this ritual. Once the spirits vanished, he walked toward you and smiled fondly when he saw your sleeping expression. How could you be so vulnerable? Since you’ve been children you have always been vulnerable with him even if you were now just like him. A  cold blooded killer.
“ Darling, open your eyes.”
“ Did I fall asleep?”
“ I’m afraid you did, dearest.” He kissed your forehead with a soft gaze. “ We should sleep.”
You looked at his face, he knew you could see the fatigue on his face. You nodded and stood up, walking out of the basement, walking toward his bedroom. You took Eamon in your arms, signing in bliss. After all those years,  this plushie was here.  
“ Undress, dear.”
You whined but undressed quickly, throwing your dress on his chair with the rest of your clothes. You bury yourself under the cover, trying to stay awake. He undressed himself, putting his pajama on before sliding behind you, wrapping his arms around you.
“ Is everything ready for the ritual..?” you asked, yawning. 
“ Yes, you don’t have to do anything.” He kissed your naked shoulder. “ You just have to think about the wedding.”
—--------
“ Oh my baby, you look so handsome.”
Alastor turned his gaze toward his mother with a soft smile. Marie was already having tears in her eyes just because she was seeing him in his suit. 
Today was the day he was to be wed to you. 
He let his mother kiss his forehead, bending toward her. She took his face between her hands, staring at him with a proud smile. He tilted his head, it was strange. He thought he would have seen this expression on his mother’s face when he had killed his father with your help. And yet, it was on his wedding day that she was beaming the most. How strange…
She was kissing his cheeks while walking around him, praising him again and again.
He looked at himself in the mirror with his mother by his side.
“ I’m so happy, I’ve always wished for your happiness.” She whispered, leaning her hand against his shoulder. His mother was getting older, she seemed smaller than she used to be. He looked down at her, as she grinned at him. 
He turned his head toward the door when he heard someone knocking. His mother went to open the door and greeted your father who stepped in. Alastor shook his hand, smiling at the man who seemed… nervous?
“ Well, Alastor, you look splendid.” he said as he held his hand between his. Alastor nodded, staring at his soon to be father-in-law. He could already see that the man wanted to talk with him. His mother must have sensed it because she left the two men together.
“ You wanted to talk to me, sir ?” Alastor asked, his usual smile. Your father seemed surprised but he couldn't help but laugh.
“ As observant as always, Alastor.”
He almost rolled his eyes. No need to be observant, most of the time, when someone knocked on someone else's door, it was usually to talk. Furthermore, your father was a policeman, he wouldn’t be surprised if the man wanted to talk with him about you, or his father’s death.
“ I’m here… I wanted to talk about my daughter.”
Bingo.
“ I just… You have nothing to do with your father’s disappearance, right?”
All of them were so easy to read. Now, he just needed to give your father some kind  of informations that would make him less… threatening.
“ I won’t lie to you. My main goal right now is to marry your daughter. My father is still haunting my thoughts but I need to be strong for your daughter, right? What I’m asking of you, if you ever find him, please do tell me before he goes home.”
“ Of course, Alastor. I’ll find him, you’ll meet him again, I promised.” Your father frowned.
He wanted to laugh out loud. If you were next to him right now, would you bite your lips to contain your laughter or would you giggle behind your hand.
“ But… Please, do take care of my daughter.” 
“ I’ll protect her with my life.”
Alastor looked at your father, his gaze was set on him. Your father was giving you away to him. A monster, disguised as a human being. How funny.  But you loved him, the human being and the monster. Was he half-human? Half-monster? A monster? A Human? What was the difference?
He watched as your father relaxed. He tapped his shoulder two times before leaving him alone. He looked in the mirror and he laughed out loud, almost crying from laughing.They were all stupid people, dear, you would have laughed with him so hard if you were here.  
He beamed at his reflection, arranging his tie once more. It was time for him to wait for you at the aisle. He looked as his mother entered the room once more, telling him it was time to go. He watched his reflection once more, smiling widely before going into the ceremony’s room with his mother.
He waited at the aisle, listening to Victor and Mimzy. He couldn’t wait to see you in your wedding dress. 
After a while, everyone went to sit down and the mayor invited Alastor to place himself. He asked him if he was nervous but he shook his head. He wasn’t nervous,he was… excited? He turned his head toward the big door once the music started and he freezed.
You were breathtaking, walking toward him, holding on to your father’s arm. Your face was covered by a white veil, which almost made him grin. This shield you put against others was going to be taken down by him,  and him alone. 
He held his hand toward you, wanting to smooth the itch that was bothering him. He needed to feel you. He took off your veil, and relaxed when he saw your face. How beautiful.  You truly looked like an angel. 
“ Who blessed me with you, I wonder…”
And he wondered who cursed you with him.
 In a twisted way, he was so elated to be the one to ruin you. Since you first met, you always choose him until, even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t be able to run away. You were all pure and you accepted to be tainted by him, from your morals, to your blood and soon your soul. He couldn’t tear his eyes off from you but he still listened to Alyzée’s father talking. You were watching the mayor but he could see all your attention was on his fingers stroking your hands.
He turned completely toward you once it was time to say your vows. You were adorable, you were already ready to cry. How cute you could be, from crying because you were emotional to you tearing an eye off. How lucky he was! 
“ I shall begin. We all know she is the most emotional between the two of us.” he smirked when the crowd laughed fondly. “ Dearest…”
You sniffed. Well, let’s share what he felt for you in front of everyone.
“  I don’t think I can recall a day where you weren’t at my side. Your voice is the best melody I can remember, your touch healed much more than any doctors could have achieved.  You are the first who showed me genuine emotions, you never hide yourself from me and the most important… I never felt the need to hide myself from you.”
He wondered if you knew how comfortable he felt with you. How every time your eyes would lock, he would feel shiver in his whole body?
“ You waited, dearest, you waited for me to open myself to you, which is admirable in a lot of ways. But what was more important for me is that you didn't run away. You accepted me.” he kissed the back of your hand, keeping his eyes on yours. “ You decided to put your trust in me even though what we share isn’t what you used to believe in, right?” he chucked as you nodded with a shaky laugh. 
All those romance books you read while he couldn’t grasp the meaning behind those fancy words. He remembered how you would gush about the prince charming who was saving the princess while the prince didn’t even know the princess. 
Was your meeting like a fairytale? No. If it was a fairytale he would be the dragon keeping you inside a tall tower, killing every person that would approach you. But he couldn’t help but think you wouldn’t not enjoy that. 
“ What I’m willing to give you is much more than what you have ever read, ever seen, ever experimented with. Death itself couldn’t tear us apart, I swear it , my love.”
Your relationship through all those years was like evidence. In his mind, he couldn’t see himself without you.  He still did not know if his affection was like the love you wished for when you were younger, but from your tears, maybe you would still accept it. He looked as Alice came to you to give you a tissue to wipe your eyes.
You looked at Alastor who stared at you, caressing your cheek.
“ I shall love you in the way you accepted. In sickness, in health, poor, rich, I do not care. As long as you are by my side, this life is worth living.”
Your smile and your eyes  were beautiful. It was the first thing that caught his attention since the beginning. Your eyes would always shine bright, with any emotions you would feel. As you grew older, you stopped showing your emotions to anyone which made it even more special when you would just show your bare feelings to him.
He didn’t expect to feel so much during your speech.  You were confirming everything he questioned in his mind. You were as obsessed as him, you both would die in your madness bound to each other.
He smiled during your speech but couldn’t hold himself when you said your last sentence.
“ I love you so much, it might cost me my sanity, my love.”
He tugged you against his torso, caging you in his arms. You would lose your sanity for him, he almost chuckled. He felt like he never had sanity from the beginning and you were the one being his moral compass, sometimes.. 
He stepped back and waited for the ring before putting the jewel on your finger. He could feel a shiver running through his whole body. He could almost see a chain around your neck where his necklace was. Finally, in front of the law, you were his, completely his.
“ I declare you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride.”
Who was he to say those words? 
You smiled as Alastor tugged you toward him, kissing you like tomorrow wouldn’t exist.
Finally. 
You broke the kiss, staying near him as the crowd was shouting and clapping.
“ I love you, Alastor.. I love you, I love you..” you whispered against his lips. He almost melted at your words. He didn't know those kind of words, which he couldn’t truly understand, was making him feel so weak and strong at the same time.
“ I love you, dearest, in a way that no human would dare to love.” he whispered back, making you kiss him one more time. Even the devil would be afraid to love you like he was doing right now.
You walked out of the town hall, holding on to your husband’s arms. You stayed on the stairs as journalists took pictures of you and Alastor. He would already hear Victor’s yapping about how great you both looked. 
You laughed when the women were asking you to throw the bouquet. You turned your back to the crowd, closed your eyes and threw it. He kind of wished Mimzy would catch it, she didn’t want to get married, that would be fun to watch her face if she happened to catch the bouquet.
“ Oh my gosh!”
Even better.
You turned around and screamed in glee when you saw Alice with the bouquet. She walked toward you and hugged you, sniffing. He turned his eyes toward the mayor who said that the car was ready for you to use. He smirked before thanking him, shaking his hand once more. Alastor took your hand and guided you toward the vehicle before opening the door for you. 
“ Is it our car..?”
“ A gift from Alyzée’s father.” he winked at you before you entered the car, Alastor closing the door behind you. He settled behind the steering wheel and began to drive until his destination.
“ I feel like I’m dreaming…” you sighed in bliss. 
“ I don’t think I ever felt this… happy.” you looked at Alastor who almost seemed confused. He wasn’t very surprised to feel this much emotion when you were by his side, but it was still surprising when he knew killing was the second next thing that could grant him so much euphoria. “ Even killing my father didn’t bring me this much joy. You really are something, my love.” he smirked as he parked in the hotel’s parking lot.
Once everyone has arrived you all went into the banquet hall. You looked at all the tables and the band that was on stage, preparing themselves. You sat next to Alastor as Alice walked toward you with a piece of paper. She did a speech, an emotional sarcastic speech which brought you and her to tears. 
He laughed when Mimzy did her speech. She would make inside jokes that would make him smirk but she didn’t tell too much which he appreciated. Victor was next, he told everyone about how Alastor was the definition of dedicated and so on. Victor was a good fella, he kept him at his side to feed his ego when needed.
His back straightened  up when his mother walked with the microphone. He knew she was going to make a speech, but he didn’t know if he was ready to hear it.
She didn’t talk about the bad thing, but through her eyes he was telling everything he needed to know. She, who looked so small in his dressing room before the wedding, was looking so tall right now. He almost felt like a little boy. The little boy who just wanted his mother to tell him they were safe now. 
He always wondered how his mother perceived him. When he was torturing animals when he was younger, when he went hunting, being captivated by death, when his soul began to rot. What did she think about it? 
Was his soul already rotten when she gave birth to him?
Well, he didn’t really care now, he was satisfied with himself.
“Mon bébé… Not everything has been easy, I’m well aware. You always asked me what you could do to make me smile, to make me happy. Well, mon coeur, by being happy, you make me the happiest mother on earth. Je t’aime, quoi qu’il puisse arriver, tu seras toujours mon fils que j’aime.” 
He wondered why his eyes got teary. Maybe his inner child was waiting for this moment? He stood up, letting your hand go before hugging his mother, harder than he expected. Everyone was clapping around them but he didn’t care. She whispered in his ears that she loved him, no matter what could happen. His face was hidden in his mother’s shoulder, hiding the boyish smile that was on his lips. He stepped back, kissing his mother on the cheek, wiping one tear from her cheek before walking back toward you. 
Was his mother letting him go? Was she telling him that she did her job, protecting you as she could, until he could leave living his life with you? He hoped she knew, he would always go back to her, she was his mother. 
You looked as Alice’s father walked toward you. Well, he didn’t expect a speech from her dad, but he did see you grow up.
“ Well, I do not know Alastor, but I know a woman, who has always been by my daughter's side. No matter what was going on, she would take my daughter’s side. As a thank you, for being yourself, Mr and Mrs Sanglar, please accept as a wedding gift the house we wanted to sell.”
His eyebrows shoot up. Well, he wanted to buy the property but he did not expect it to be given to you like this. 
“ Well, now, we shall see the married one dance! Band, some music, please!”
Alastor guided you toward the dancefloor as a soft song began to be played. You danced with Alastor, never breaking eye contact with him.  He was moving you against him until he made a gesture to the band who began to change the music, they were now playing jazz.
You smiled widely at Alastor as you both began to dance, twirling, being lifted in the air, under everyone’s eyes. No one could detach their gaze from you. 
After a while, everyone danced with everybody. He danced with her mother, being careful as she laughed, seeming the happiest she ever was. He even danced with Alice to make you happy. 
He walked toward a balcony to breathe some fresh air and he smirked when he saw you outside. You were outside the hotel, being beautiful. He sended his shadow to you, you never know what could happen.
He frowned a little but kept his smile when he saw John approached you. He looked at the scene, drinking from his glass as Mimzy chatted next to him about the good looking men that were present on the dance floor. He told her to go back dancing, keeping his eyes on you.
When John left you, he came back inside and took another glass of whiskey, talking with the guests, listening to the drunk confessions. Everything could be used, and the mayor was really talkative with Alice’s father.
After a while, he saw you and Alice drunkenly walked toward the balcony. He excused himself before following you. He wanted to be with his wife now.
“ So~ Can’t wait for the honeymoon~?” he heard Alice ask.
“ I don’t even know how I managed to not jump on him.” you giggled drunkenly with Alice. How cute you were…
“ Who are we talking about?”
You smiled as you turned around and saw a smiling Alastor.
“ We are talking about my husband.”
God, he loved hearing those words coming from your mouth.
“ What a lucky fella! May I know what he looks like?” he smiled as Alice winked at you before leaving.
“ He looks… like sin.” you whispered as you stared at him. “ You shouldn’t be this close to me, you don’t want to meet his wrath.”
“ I’ll try my luck.” He kissed you, making you grab his shoulder as you moaned his name. “ You’re finally my wife.” He looked at your ring.
“ You’re finally my husband.” you kissed his lips one more time as you both stared at each other with so much passion, tenderness, obsession, lust and love, it would almost make you faint.
“ I love you.”
—-------
You were singing in the car with the biggest smile you had on your face. Alastor was behind the wheel, smiling, humming the same tune as your voice. He always was satisfied when you were singing. 
He has been driving for almost two hours, enjoying the salty air and your voice. Sometimes you would hold your hand toward his mouth so he would sing, which he gladly did. When his voice was mixed with yours, you both were singing the most beautiful songs.
You fell asleep in the car, waking up when Alastor kissed your lips. You blinked slowly before smiling at him. He stroked your cheeks before going to take the luggages. He knew Paulette was near the house. He easily carried the luggages, greeted Paulette before entering the house. It wasn’t his type of decoration but well… As long as it didn’t bother you.
“ What do you want to do first?” He crossed his arms on his chest, looking patiently at you as you thought out loud about all the possibilities. You moved your hands toward the luggages and telekinesied them toward the bedroom. Seeing you using your power always made him feel something dark inside him.
“ I want to see the city ! No, the beach!” you clapped your hands as your eyes returned to their usual color. He smiled before stretching his hand toward you which you immediately took before leaving the house.
You let Alastor guide you and you smiled even more when you saw the beach. It really was close to the house Alastor rented, he knew you always wanted to go to the beach. You took off your shoes, Alastor already holding them for you. He looked as you innocently walked barefoot on the warm sand.
“ Come with me!”
As if he could do anything else.
He watched as you walked toward the water, stopping in front of the tide. Alastor knew you still were afraid of water, since the lake accident. He needed to teach you how to swim, he didn’t want something bad to happen to you.
He hugged you from behind, teasing you as always, his body relaxing at your usual banters. He took your attention from the water by giving you a seashell that looked like he had been painted by all the colors. You quickly decided to find others so you could give them to him.
He looked at the waves and the sun. It was a strange emotion to feel at peace. He felt like the world stopped to make you savor this moment.
“ Dear husband ?”
“ Dear wife?” He asked, still looking at the water, trying to find a way for you to not be afraid of it anymore. He heard you walk closer to him and he felt his shadow move but it didn't say anything to him. When he decided to look down at it, you threw sand at him.
“ Oh, are we already playing?” he said as he slowly lifted his head, looking at you.
“ Don’t we always?” you grinned before taking off. You laughed as you heard him running after you. It was a little difficult as you weren’t used to running on sand but a few seconds after you screamed as Alastor tackled you on the floor. You laughed as he tickled you with a mocking smile. “ It’s because you forget rule number one!” you shouted as you trashed underneath him.
He smirked, you still remembered these three rules he had teached you when he was younger. It was almost touching. 
You then decided it was time to go home. He said he was going to prepare something to eat and you should take a shower which you gladly did. He was cutting the meat with a smirk, looking at the blade while it disappeared inside the meat. 
He knew you were behind him but he didn’t expect you to use your power to make the knife fly out of his hand. Alastor turned toward you, with an annoyed smirk when he saw you.
“ I’m trying to cook, dear.”
“ I don’t see what is stopping you.” you smiled sweetly at him. He walked toward you, sliding his hand on your shoulder until he touched your hand where you were holding the knife.
“ We both know we like it more when I’m the one with the knife, right?” he smirked when he leaned toward you, taking the knife from your hand. “ right?”
“ Right.”
“ Good.” he purred before going back to cooking with a satisfied smile. He asked you to dress up the table when you told him you wanted to help him. But you played with him, with the knife, so he was going to have his fun too.
You easily opened the cupboard with your telekinesis but frowned when you saw Alastor’s shadow trying to keep the plates inside the cupboard.
“ Come on now, bad boy, let go !” you said as you force on your power, the shadow mocking you as he kept the plates in its grapes. You heard Alastor chuckling which made you even more agitated to have those damn plates.
“ Having some trouble, darling?” he sneered at you.
“ No!” You could feel power getting stronger in your eyes but then the shadow smirked at you before letting the plate go. You gasped before crouching, avoiding the plate that flew toward you. You bit your lips as you heard the crash against the wall behind you. You lifted your head toward Alastor who was trying to suppress his laughter. He didn’t expect you to use so much strength but it was funnier than he anticipated.
“ Well?”
You turned around and winced when you saw the plates in pieces on the floor. You pouted as Alastor took the pieces in his hands, laughing. He winced when a sharp piece of plate cut his finger. He already knew it was a deeper cut that it was letting on.
“ Do we have bandages ?” you asked as you took his finger to see the blood pouring out the cut.
“ No need, darling. It’s going to stop soon.” he smiled at you, ready to move on.
But you grabbed his hand and licked his wound. Your tongue was moving around his finger, licking his blood like it was the best thing you ever had. He could feel his eyes flash red, staring at you. He tugged you against him when you realized what you were doing, already ready to panic.
“, I’m sorry ! I didn’t–!”
“ Well done, my love, you healed me.”
You looked at his finger and freezed when you saw his hand was as good as new. You winced when you felt a little pain on your finger and looked at your hand. Alastor and you looked as you saw your finger being cut, just like Alastor a moment before, without any weapon around. 
“ I see… You can heal me because you took the injury yourself.” he mumbled, not happy with the news. He wasn’t the kind to get injured often. But he knew that you would want to heal him, even if it was a scratch.
You stared at the cut and a few seconds after, the cut disappeared. You looked at Alastor with a smile.
“ I think the injury stayed on me the same time it has stayed on you. Which means, if you ever have a serious injury, I need to heal you as quickly as possible, if I don’t want to keep the injury for too long.” 
That was even more problematic. If he was injured, he needed to make a choice if it was better to be treated by you or a hospital and the choice has to be quick because you would keep the injury as long as he himself had kept it. He needed to get stronger so he could get a hold of this power and you wouldn't have to get hurt.
“ I see… Well, I just have to not get injured, right?” he smirked at you as he kissed the place where the cut moment before. “ You are pretty in purple, but I like them better in red.”
You tried to find a mirror and once you did you find that your eyes had a purple hue.
“ Well, darling, would you please set the table?” you rolled your eyes at Alastor's cunning voice.
You both ate and then you talked about John. You came back with an envelope which held 1,000 dollars. He didn’t expect the Felleur’s family to give so much money to the man who insulted their son on the radio. He smirked as he imagined John’s face when his parents had told him to give you this from them.
“ Let’s take a walk.” he chuckled at your words.
“ Going outside, at night, in an unknown town? Are you looking for trouble?”
“ Aren’t we the trouble?” you smirked at him.
He groaned as he tugged you toward him and kissed you feverishly, how he adored you. You smiled as you put your shoes on after clearing the table. You went out with Alastor, holding upon his arm. You decided to follow a trail that seemed to go away from the city, feeling adventurous, you begged Alastor to follow it. He sighed but accepted your supplications. Once you reached the top you looked down the hills and saw the ocean, you weren’t too high but you still gulped. 
Well, it seemed like you needed a little push to move out from your fear. Mostly when he was next to you, you did not need to fear anything.
Alastor jumped off the hill, falling into the water. It felt good to be underneath water, the water was cool against his warm skin. He swam back to the surface, throwing his head back so his hair wouldn’t get in his eyes.
“ Stay here, I’m going to take the trail to–”
“ Jump!” he shouted.
He saw you freeze but he needed you to do this. Were you remembering your first meeting when he had asked you to jump off the swing? That day, you listened to him, you went out of your comfort zone for him. He needed you to do the same today, he wanted to see your trust in him.
He wanted to see the little girl that changed his life so much.
“ I’ll catch you” Always.
He grinned when he saw you jumping off the cliff.  It was the same as that day, you looked like an angel, your hair moving into the air, your dress making it seem like you had wings. You were an angel, turning your back on anyone, to be with him. You chose to fall in hell with him, for him. 
You felt Alastor’s arms as you hitted the water. You wrapped your arms around his body before he swam the both of you toward the surface. You gasped for air and looked around before laughing as you stared at your husband with a wide laugh.
“Wow! Did you see that Alastor ! I did it ! Haha ! That was super amazing !” You looked at him with a wide smile.
You looked as Alastor hand cupped your face before kissing you. You closed your eyes as you kissed him back. He was proud of you, he would never let you be alone in those moments, he would be your protector if you needed to. But he knew he needed to be sure you could hold yourself, you were partners, husband and wife, child friends and so on..
—----
The next day, you both went into town. You watched what kind of furniture you would buy for your future home. He was looking at some desk that he would be able to put into his office… Your new house was big, bigger than he was used to but he knew you would fill every room with warmth.
You kept walking, looking for things for your new home or for yourself. You find new clothes, a new hat for Alastor and some souvenirs for your family and friends. You ate lunch in a small restaurant that you found delicious. Alastor didn’t like it much but he couldn’t help but smile when you said you could help him finish.
You walked back home, still full of energy. You looked at the full moon as Alastor was taking a shower. He came back to you, cleaning his glasses with a tissue.
“ Are you ready, my love?”
“ Mhn?”
“ Well, to bond yourself to me.” 
You moved so quickly he feared you would lose your balance. You both went into the bedroom where he had written symbols on papers with ink.
“ I have everything we need.” He said with a confident smile. He walked back toward you with a blade. “ First, I need a place to mark you, if you don’t mind, dearest, I’ll choose your heart. I already carved an ‘A’ here, but you know I’m greedy. I’ll place my runes here…”
“ You have a rune for yourself ?” you asked him, curiously.
“ I created one, yes.” He tilted his head as you took off your dress, baring yourself at him. He walked toward you and cut you between your breasts. The ‘ A’ he once had carved wasn’t there anymore but it didn’t matter, something much more meaningful was going to be here.
“ Every time your heart beats, it is for me. This life is mine… “ He whispered against your skin. “Now,dear, unfortunately, you can’t carve  rune but you still have energy. Where do you want to place yourself on me.” he smiled at you with a teasing expression, watching you as you put your night dress on. “ My heart already belongs to you–”
“ Your forehead.”
“ Pardon?”
“ Well, we both know you always stay inside your mind for hours sometimes. I want to be the one who owns every single one of your thoughts.” You said confidently. You advanced toward him, feeling power inside you. You kissed his forehead, closing your eyes. “ This twisted brain of yours will never work if my heart isn’t beating for you.”
Well, he knew for a fact that if you were no longer by his side, which would never happen, he would lose the rest of his sanity.
“ This is really cute, I don’t remember the last time I performed this curse!” you looked at Baron Samedi who was smoking his cigar.
“ Let’s finish this.” you heard Papa Legba. “ You need something that would be the material bond in the human world. “
You looked as Alastor took something of his luggages.
“ Eamon!” you shouted in surprise. 
“ Of course, dear. What is better to represent our bond than our fawn?”
“ He is a deer!”
“ Fawn. Now! Let’s begin.” he placed Eamon on the floor between the two of you.  He felt Kalfu entering his body, taking it as his own vessel. He could feel his lips moving into a smile so big he almost felt like the corner of his lips were bleeding. 
He watched as Kalfu cut his wrist, making the blood drip onto Eamon. He stared at the fawn which seemed to be infused with energy. The symbols on the paper were detaching themselves from it. 
He then felt a horrible pain in his head. It felt like his brain had been shot, he wanted to tear his hair off so it may lessen the pain he was feeling. The pain was moving from his head to any parts of his body, it was like his blood was poisonous and was contaminating all his being.
Baron Samedi wrote something in front of him, he couldn’t understand anything nor the voice that was chanting around him. He fell on his knees, holding his head as Kalfu left his body. He didn’t really listen to the spirits talking, his head was pounding, like someone was using a hammer and kept punching his head with it.
You were talking to him, he always loved your voice but now he needed to lessen the pain. Maybe if he took a cold shower it would help… He groaned when you forced him to lift his head to watch you. “ What? Are you not okay?”
He freezed when he heard your voice, but inside his mind. You having been talking, you were speaking inside his mind and from the look of it you could also hear his thoughts.
His smile widened before he rushed toward you and hugged you. He spun you around, laughing happily. You stared at him, lost but happy. He put you down and took Eamon with a smirk.
“ I don’t believe it. There aren’t a lot of archives about this spell but I sure didn’t know we could share our thoughts that way.” He put Eamon with care on the bed. “ My love, now Eamon is the material bound between us, nothing must happen to him, it could weaken what is linking us.” 
He laughed like a mad man, that should scare you but you just smiled softly, looking fondly at your husband.
“ Oh my love, curse of my sanity, I can’t wait to kill while hearing all of your thoughts!” he laughed, bending his body backwards, his hand hiding his eyes. “ I have a list of new victims, it only needs us to erase them from earth!” He laughed as you giggled next to him.
What a good day ! 
You walked toward him as he lifted you up in the air. You laughed as you both danced in the small bedroom while laughing. You stopped when you saw something.
“ Alastor…”
“ Yes?”
“ My shadow…”
He looked as your shadow was now similar to his. It held the same hideous smile while it played with his shadow. It seemed like the ritual had more secrets than he initially thought. He couldn’t wait to discover it with you.
“ Oh, this will be fun.”
—------- 
“ Once again, the police have found a body, the right eye missing and a smile carved into the victim’s flesh. This had been going on for years, yet, the police, led by John Felleur, still haven't found a single clue about the serial killer that haunts New Orleans’s streets. The killer seems to attack men only, so my dear fellow gentlemen, you should stay vigilant!” He spoke into his microphone with a big smile.
It’s been three years since his wedding and what a journey it has been. He was the most popular radio host of all Louisiana, he was well respected, having connections with people he never would have thought to meet. And thanks to that, he could easily find new targets.
The police were trying to find a serial killer, which was of course, him and his darling wife. You didn’t give up your little hobbit, always going with him when it was time to slay. He always finds a new way of torturing his victims, sometimes wondering if he was affraying you, but when he would turn around, you would just look at him fondly.
How lucky he was.
His powers were becoming more stable and he had more stamina now. He didn’t necessarily use his power when he was killing someone, he didn’t think they were worth it. He would use it during the track, finding information about how vile the pig was. And he was getting better and better, never injuring himself.
Which created an argument between the both of you. He didn’t want you to use your healing capacity but you always have been a brat, so you would injure yourself so you could train. The first day he saw you doing that, he thought he lost any sanity left in his body. He had you pinned on the floor, asking many times what you were doing. 
After hearing your pleas, he agreed to hurt himself so you would learn from him. He didn’t want you to heal serious injuries, he didn’t know if you could die from an injury you healed before it killed him.
Alice was the one who would help him find filthy pigs that he didn’t know they existed. She could still be of use after all those years, who would have thought?
He said his goodbye to his audience before leaving his workplace and took his car to drive back home. He was sure Alice was at your home, he didn’t really care.
He entered the front door and smiled when he saw you, your head already turned toward him.
“ How do you always know when he is coming home! Each time, it’s a different hour!” asked Alice, always shocked when you could tell when Alastor was coming home.
“ Good evening, Alice. What an unhappy expecting surprise to you here.” said Alastor with a mocking smile. 
“ Even after all those years, you are still not a gentleman.” 
Only with my wife, right, my love?
It was a new power you both acquired when you bond your souls togethers. You could talk in each other’s mind which created funny and interesting moments. He looked as you went into the kitchen to cook dinner. He wanted to keep painting the room but well, he couldn’t let your guest unattended. 
“ Unfortunately, I think I can’t stay with you for dinner.”
“ What? But I was going to make your favorite dish!” you shouted, going back into the living room with a pan in your hand. “ Did Alastor say something?”
“ Honey…” he sighed with a smirk.
“ Do you think he could make me change my opinion?” she raised an eyebrow.
“ Right, so why? Are you still feeling unwell?” 
“No… It’s just…” She sat on the sofa, sighing. You sat next to her, taking her hands while Alastor was looking at her with his usual smile. “ I am pregnant.”
….
“ What?” you said in unison with Alastor.
Alastor watched as you asked Alice for precision, your eyes flashing red. Alice never asked you anything about it even though he was sure she saw your eyes changing colors. Was she lying to herself or was she trying not to be noisy?
Alice was pregnant even though she told you her husband never forced himself on her. Alastor was surprised, Alice never really talked about wanting to be pregnant so if he needed to kill the husband, you would have to be very careful. 
“ Do you need us to kill him?” asked Alastor calmly. He didn’t really feel anything but maybe anger about not controlling the situation. Trey Felleur was a  catholic man he thought was boring, just a tasteless man that was doing his job, talking about politics… Nothing worth his time. 
“ Calm down, the both of you. He didn’t force himself on me. I wanted a child, so this has to happen. He asked me multiple times if this is what I wanted, I said yes. He didn’t do anything bad.” she stood up, taking your hands in hers. “ But there is something worrying me. I think Alyzée is being stalked by someone… She says she feels like she is being watched.”
Well, well, well… Another stalker’s story? Last time was when you were teenagers, and you never found him. It was mostly not a stalker, he kept watching when you both were out and he never felt eyes on him. But someone following Alyzée, now that was interesting and possible.
He stood up when you took Alice to the front door. He listened as he leaned against the door.
“ Nothing will hurt your family.” you said to her. Alice looked at you, taking your hand in yours.
“ You know, you are part of my family as well.” she whispered to you. “ Even Alastor, but never let him know that.”
“ I heard you.”
“ Fuck off!” she shouted before looking at you. “ Please, be careful. If you need anything, ask me.”
He watched as she took a cab and went back to town.
You both went into the kitchen, preparing your dinner. If someone were to see the both of you, they would mostly think they were dreaming. You were moving everything you needed in the air with your power, the plates placing themselves on the tables, the vegetables being cut while Alastor was boiling the water.
You smiled when you saw Alastor’s shadow begin, once more, to tease yours. They were fighting each other, you could see them on the wall. Sometimes he wondered if both of your shadows had your childhood’s personality…
“ Alastor, should we finish painting the last bedroom?”  you asked, taking off your apron. “ I’m not hungry yet.”
He nodded before following you. You both painted and of course you decided you wanted to play. He smirked when you threw paint at him, your laughter echoing in the room. You yelped when you felt the shadow held you while Alastor was painting your cheeks, smirking at you. You laughed, trying to escape from the shadow. Yours was jumping on Alastor’s, taking it away from you. He looked as both shadows were happily fighting each other. You quickly took paint and threw it at Alastor as he shielded himself with his arms. 
After winning the war, you both went to take a shower and then went back to the kitchen before sitting on the table and eating.
“ How should we find Alyzée’s stalker ? Should we send our shadow?” you asked as Alastor made you eat from his fork.
“ Oh, my love, no.  Do we really need to waste our power for this?” he laughed, waving his hand in the air. “ We need to kill John, remember?” 
John was becoming a pressing matter. He was still in the police and he was setting on finding the serial killer that was terrorizing New Orleans. He was far too blinded by you to think you were the one behind the killing with him, but he knew John was still thinking he was the one being the cause of his father’s disappearance. But he needed to find the right moment…
“ How could I forget? But right now, he isn’t a threat. The stalker could be, what if he found out about Alice’s relationship?” you asked as he wiped the sauce from your lips. 
“ If this is what you wish for, we shall take care of Alyzée’s stalker. It shouldn’t take long, nor be difficult.” he said as he leaned against his chair. You smiled at him, making him raise an eyebrow at you. “ What?”
“ You are so sure of yourself, I admire that.”
“ Because no one could make me doubt my abilities,” he said before kissing your forehead. “ You should stay with Alyzée, try to see if you feel something when you are with her.”
You both agreed  before going to bed. The next morning, he felt a little off but after a quick breakfast he felt better and he drove you to town, kissing you before going to work. Victor came 5 minutes after him, already telling him the news about his last broadcast.
He was writing on a paper when he felt something. He lifted up his head. He finished his emission 10 minutes ago, which let him write for his next broadcast… But right now, he didn’t like what he was feeling… He stood up quickly, asking Victor to handle the rest before leaving his workplace.
He could feel your bound, so he just had to follow it then he would find you. He freezed when he saw you walking alongside John, bruised.
He wondered how John would scream if he were to open the policeman’s chest and eat his heart right in front of him. He was sure it would be less painful than seeing you bruised in front of him.
Did he do that? Tell me, I’ll kill him right now.
You stopped walking when you lifted up your head, Alastor was in front of you, it seemed like he had just finished working. 
“ Mr. Felleur, please tell me why my wife is injured, next to you?” he said as he smiled like usual even if you could see anger swirling in his eyes. “ Please, answer me quickly.”
“ Mr.Sanglar, your wife has been attacked by a man, I happened to be there to save her life.” John said as you ran into Alastor’s side. 
“ Well, Officier Felleur, thank you for bringing my wife to me. I shall take it from here.”
“ I need her to write if she happens to see his face. It could be the serial killer I’m after.”
You tried to hide your smile while Alastor laughed out loud.  This poor fool wouldn’t be able to catch him red-handed as long as the sun kept rising up.
“ Oh right, but I think she would have told you if she saw something, right? But this is not the case. So, if you allow us, we shall go.” He wrapped one arm around your waist before walking away from John who just stared at you.
Alastor walked you back to your car, opened the door for you before settling behind the steering wheel. You waited for him to drive but he stayed silent. He was trying to keep the anger inside of him which was difficult because he could felt his body being warmer because of the fury inside him.
“ Alastor, my love ?”
You flinched when you saw him punch the steering wheel, grinding his teeth. 
“ I’m okay, darling. I just… didn’t expect to see you hurt.” He said before driving toward your home.
“ Alastor no! Alice and Alyzée are maybe in danger!”
“ Does it look like I care, my love? You are hurt.” he said, his eyes never leaving the road. If you think he cared about anyone but you right now? You were injured, your body had marks that haven’t been made by him, someone dared touch you.
“ Alastor, stop the car!” you shouted.
Alastor stopped the car on a deserted road, the one you always used to go home. He looked at you, his smile twitching, could you be a good girl right now and let him drive you home? Your eyes were red and so was his.
“ Alastor, Alice is pregnant, Alyzée doesn’t know how to fight, they need us! What if the man is already there?”
“ Love of my life, curse of my sanity, Alice's family is the RicheMont. They have maids, butlers, their houses are on the richest quartier of New Orleans. Do you really think a mere human could walk in like that?” he asked you, his grip tightening on the wheel. “ They are safe there, my shadow is watching.”
He saw your body relaxed but then you explained you used your power against the man. He didn’t like it, he hoped the man hadn't seen you use your telekinesis, he always told you: If you were to use your power, make sure the person was dead right after. 
His smile came back when he saw how upset because you let your prey run away. How cute, he felt like he was watching a small animal trying to hunt on a bigger animal. But well, he knew you were a professional killer now… Well, it didn't mean he couldn’t be protective of you.
Alastor started back the car, driving you home. He went to prepare dinner but then he stopped when he felt you use your healing abilities. The atmosphere was always colder when you were using it…
You saw Alastor watching you through the mirror, his arms crossed on his chest. You tilted your head as he walked toward you. He kissed your bare back, kissing each place a bruise has been made before you healed yourself.
He kissed your face, his eyes looking at you.
“ Don’t let others injure you my dear. This is my privilege, isn’t it?” he tilted his head, his eyes never leaving your face.
That night, he played with your body, cutting you with his teeth, his nails and his blade. You were like a sacrifice made for him. An angel offered as a sacrifice to calm the wrath of the vengeful spirit that was haunting New Orleans.
Hearing you moaning his name although he was sliding the blade against your skin was making him ligheaded. You both were crazy and you both enjoyed that. Your blood was dripping so pretty on the table, the red so mermazing. 
He kissed every single one of his cuts and smiled when you told him you didn't want to heal them yet. You wanted to feel them.
When you went to bed, he watched you sleeping before going into the living room. He needed to write his next podcast, maybe he could talk about his sixth murder? No…  He coughed a little, hiding his mouth behind his fist. What could be tomorrow's next topic?
He stood up and went into the kitchen to make some coffee, still thinking. Maybe he could tell the story of your first murders, his father’s death.. Mh, it could be interesting. What name should he choose… Maybe he could ask the audience what the name of the character could be.
He walked back into the living room and felt a sudden dizziness that made him drop his mug on the floor. He almost swore but he just sighed. 
“ Alastor, are you hurt ?” you watched as he lifted his head up to you with a warm smile. He stood up and walked toward you before kissing your forehead. 
“ I’m okay, love. It seems like I was still upset about what happened to you with the stalker, my hand was shaking.” he sighed, whispering his words softly against the skin of your forehead. 
“ Why don’t you come back to bed..? It’s three in the morning…” you whined against him. 
Alastor looked at you for a minute before nodding. He cleaned his mess before going back to the bedroom with you, turning off the light. You slid into the covers, opening your arms for him. He smiled softly at you before going into bed, placing his head on your chest, above your beating heart.
“ Do you want to talk about it, my love?” you asked softly as your fingers were running through his curly hair. He hummed but didn’t say anything. He didn’t know why, he was so tired… Well, he was use to sleep three hours or more if he was lucky, if he were listening to your beating heart… 
When he opened his eyes the next day, he almost freaked out for a minute. He was alone in the bed. He sat up, feeling you downstairs. He sighed, placing his head against the palm of his hand. He was still sleepy, what an odd and unusual feeling… He walked toward the kitchen and looked at you.
“ I made your coffee.” You said before kissing his cheeks. He wrapped his arms against you, kissing your forehead, thanking you in his deep sleepy voice. You smiled at him, placing the pastries in front of him. “ Did you sleep well?”
“ Mhn… I slept deeply, this doesn’t happen occasionally.”  he held his chin with his left hand, looking at the ceiling, perplexed. You tilted your head as he winked at you. “ Don’t get used to it.”
You went to wash up after Alastor then you went into the living room, sitting on the sofa.  You tied up his tie for him, you always liked doing that so, he would let you do it, always watching you with a fond smile. You stared at him, stroking his cheeks.
“ You don’t have to meet with Alyzée today, my shadow keeps watch.” he said.
“ Nu-uh, I’m going. Take back your shadow, I don’t want you to be tired.” You kissed his nose with a fond smile.
“ It’s not taking an ounce of my energy and with what happened with the stalker, I’m not taking any chances.” he cupped your head in his hands, staring at you. 
You nodded and then he took you to town. When he went into his office, he let himself fall on his chair, massaging his head, running his finger into his hair. Why was he so tired and why was he feeling so hot? This summer was really warmer than last year? Dear god…
Victor came to him seeming worried. Alastor told him to just do his work as his program was going to begin. He would go through it, just like he always did. He focused his thoughts in his notes, never losing his flow, his humor and his answer with the audience. Today seemed like it wasn’t going to end. 
He, sometimes, was holding his head while a listener was talking. There was so much noise… and it was god damn too hot !
Thank God, he managed until the end. He took a bottle of water and drank all of it, closing his eyes as the cold liquid ran inside his throat. He lifted up his head when he heard a knock and told the person to enter. He could already feel your presence behind the door.
He stood up from his seat. He walked toward you as Victor left his office. You smiled at him, kissing him softly as he hummed against your lips. “ What is my darling wife doing here?”
“ I wanted to see my husband.” you chuckled when you felt his lips kissing your neck before sitting back on his chair. “ This is the first time I come here… With my body.”
“ Last time, it was your soul, you’re right.” He leaned on his chair, crossing his arms against his torso. You seemed to be observing him, he almost laughed. He always enjoyed when you were “copying” him.
You took a tissue from your bag and wiped his forehead as he closed his eyes. You touched his forehead with your hand and frowned a little.
“ You’re warmer than usual.”
“ Well, it is summer and my office gets hot with all my materials.”
You pouted, trying to fan him with a piece of paper which made him laugh. He stood up, kissed your forehead and  said it was time to go home. He took some paper with him and you both left his workplace, and drove to your home. He needed to finish this and maybe he would be able to breathe a little.
But before he could enter your home, you took his hand and brought him to the lake. He looked at you as you took off your shoes and lifted up your dress before taking a step into the water. You turned around to look at him. holding your hand toward him with a soft smile. He stared at you before taking off his shoes and socks and walked in the water, toward you.
“ You aren’t scared?”
“ I’m with you, so, no, I’m not.”
He smiled, his body relaxing with your answer. Even if his body was doing nothing it was told, you would still put your life in his hands, like right now.
Alastor dived into the water with his clothes on. You smiled when you saw him emerge out of the water, his hair sticking in on his forehead. He closed his eyes as he swam, never going too far from you. In case you wanted to go into the water.
He looked as you went back home before closing his eyes, floating on the surface. The water was cool enough for him to feel his body get colder… But it was still not enough. He took off his shirt, before going back into the water.
He swam toward the edge of the lake when he felt you come back. He looked at you and smirked when he saw you staring at him, your mouth wide open.You gulped as he left the water and walked toward you. 
“ You’re red, darling.”  He touched your chin, making you close your mouth you didn’t even realize was open. You shoved the sandwiches in his hands, looking away as he laughed. You laid down on the grass, looking at him. He leaned toward you, kissing your lips with a soft smile.
“ Did you know Alice wanted me to be her child’s godmother?” you whispered against his lips.
“ I guessed it.” He whispered before kissing you once more.
You smiled against his lips, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You pushed your lips against his as he tried to get away, wrapping your legs around his waist. You tried to suppress your laugh as he was groaning when you didn’t move your lips away from his.
He stood up easily even if you were still clinging to him. He walked toward the lake, before entering the water, speaking , his voice muffled against your lips.
“ Darling… Let go…”
You shook your head, keeping your lips against him. You chuckled as he sighed before swimming in the water. You nipped at his lips, looking at him playfully. He went into the water with you, kissing you properly before diving into the water.
You closed your eyes, he could feel your hair moving against his skin, Alastor kissing you fondly. You felt him poking your cheek with his finger. You opened your eyes slowly, and Alastor looked as he saw your eyes. You both stared at each other before he swam to the surface. 
You broke the kiss, smiling sweetly at him. He felt more relaxed than when you saw him at work. He swam to the lake’s edge, and you both ate what was left of sandwiches, looking as the sun was setting down. You played with Alastor’s curls until it was time to go home.
You fell asleep easily which made it easy for him to go downstairs to work once more. He needed to find that stalker, to find another pig to kill, put John out of the picture. He pulled on his hair, biting his lips.
This headache didn’t want to stop!
He wrote down on his notes, trying to ignore it but it was getting harder and harder to think about anything else but the pain in his head. He turned his head toward the door when he felt your presence, surprised. 
“ Darling?”
You squinted your eyes at him and walked toward him, observing him. You touched his forehead and gasped when you felt how hot he was.
“ Alastor, I think you might be sick.” you said, already ready to go take the medicine you kept in your drawers.
“ Darling, I’m not. It’s hot, remember ?” He tilted his head, looking at you, amused.
You shook your head, crossing your arms on your chest. When you saw him going back to his notes, you took his hands, begging him with your eyes. How cruel of you…
“ Then, please, at least, go to bed.”
He looked at you before sighing and nodding. He couldn’t refuse anything and he was sick of this headache. Maybe laying down would help him in any way? He laid on your chest and before he knew it, he was asleep. 
He woke up, and he almost swore when he saw the time. He was going to be late, what was going on? He stood up, took a rapid shower which didn’t stop the warmth in his body to stop getting hotter. He hitted the living room’s table with his hips, making him wince, as he was taking his notes.
“ Damn it…!”
“ Alastor, stay here, I’m calling Victor to tell him you won’t go to work.”
Alastor turned his head toward you, surprised to see you. Did he not feel your presence ? What was going on with his body? He didn't remember even getting sick since he had killed his father. You walked toward the telephone but Alastor stopped you with his usual charming smile.
“ My love… I’m going to work, there is no need to worry. It’s just a little fever, nothing more.”
But he knew you would be a brat. You threatened him to use your healing capacity on him if he wanted to go to bed. You were diabolic. He loved it. He felt like he was going to throw up… 
You dialed Alastor’s workplace and sighed in relief when you heard Victor’s voice. You told him Alastor couldn’t go to work because he was sick.
“ Alastor? Sick?”
“ My wife is holding me hostage, Victor.”
You shushed your husband before telling Victor you would call him later. You looked at Alastor who was trying to keep his smile but, even if this was against you, he hated losing. 
You pushed him into the bedroom, forcing him to change before going into the kitchen, preparing a meal for him. He felt like he was burning, the ceiling was moving even though he was laying down. He couldn’t see well, his senses were confused.
Where were you..?
He flinched when he felt a hand touch his forehead, smacking it immediately. Damn it, he was vulnerable and someone was there to witness it.
“ Don’t touch me..” he whispered. He wanted to have his usual smile but he couldn’t. Moving was exhausting, even smiling was asking too much of him.
“ I’m sorry, I just wanted to cool down the fever.” he heard someone say. The fever? He was sweating so much it was horrible. Was he in hell? If he was in hell, where were you?
“ Do you want to drink something ?” 
“ Hot chocolate….” he whispered, closing his eyes. If you still weren’t in hell, he would have to wait for you.
“ But you don’t like it…Why?”
“It tastes…like my wife…” he said, opening his eyes slightly, looking at you. “ She…is sweet…” He slowly blinked and then he was given a hot chocolate.  He sat up with difficulties, his head spinning. He drank a bit of the drink and couldn’t help but cringe. How could you drink that…?
He then was given a glass of water he drank completely. He laid down once again and then felt a soft weight on his chest. He looked and smirked a little when he saw the plushie.
“ Eamon…” He took the plushie with a small smirk. He stroked the fur of the plushie before looking at you. “ You shouldn’t touch it, lady…” You asked him why, tilting your head. “ I cursed… my wife with it. We are bound… forever..” he gave you a boyish smile before falling asleep, Eamon in his hand.
He didn’t know how long he was out cold, but when he woke up he saw your hands moving toward him with your eyes and their purples hues, showing him you wanted to heal him.
“ Darling, don’t…”
You freezed when you saw Alastor’s gaze on you. His eyes were focused, conscious and he had his usual smile on his lips. He sat up slowly and you quickly helped him.
“ Alastor, do you recognize me ..?” 
He nodded, kissing the back of the hand. He didn’t want you to be ill just because he kissed you.
“ I’m feeling better… Just tired and cold, but you don’t need to heal me…”
He smiled at you, reassuring you until your whole body relaxed. You kept taking care of Alastor until the next day, he was feeling way better.
The next morning, he smiled at you before going to work while you decided to stay at home to clean out the sheet and every tissue. He went to work, avoiding Victor’s questions and sat in his office. He looked around before concentrating on his shadow who was still guarding Alyzée. He looked around but nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary.
He freezed when he felt your presence not too far from the two women. He forced his shadow to look around, he knew soul was somewhere near. His shadow’s eyes fell toward a warm feeling, Alastor knew your soul was here. He wondered why you were here… His shadow then looked at a man who seemed to be looking at no one, but his stare was focused. 
He was focused where he could feel your soul.
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jason grace x daughter of demoter! reader plsplsplspls 🙇‍♀️🫵
⋆⭒˚.⋆ jason grace x daughter of demeter! reader hcs
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𝜗𝜚 content…jason grace x daughter of demeter! reader hcs 𝜗𝜚 warning…language 𝜗𝜚 letters from the author…hcs are so much more fun with the themed bulletpoints in my personal opinion!! i just feel like it adds character to the post, ya know??? anyways, this is so so spring summer flower girl coded frfr!! this was purely for the silly goofy vibes frfr
────────── ౨ৎ ──────────
❀˖° you already know this boy goes out of his way to ensure that your plants don't die
❀˖° they need water? it's raining without a second thought
❀˖° they need it a little cooler? a breeze is running through camp instantly
❀˖° they need a little more sunshine? all the clouds poof out of the sky promptly
❀˖° loves loves loves to give you plants and plant related things
❀˖° your interests are his interests frfr
❀˖° started reading horticulture and agriculture books BEFORE yall even started dating
❀˖° "jason...why- why are you reading 'horticulture for dummies'?"
❀˖° "uh, i, uh, like plants. all of the sudden."
❀˖° that is the moment you clocked him for liking you lmao-
❀˖° knows better than to give you cut flowers, as you will throw a fit, muttering and huffing about him being a 'plant killer' and so forth
❀˖° so he gives you potted plants and seeds and whatnot and you are a very happy camper
❀˖° loves loves loves to take you on dates to the local plant nursery
❀˖° you guys don't always buy something-
❀˖° HA almost fooled you there, huh? you always buy a plant, i mean, how can you not???
❀˖° but you guys DO like to just walk and sit among the flowers and the butterflies and the other plants
❀˖° it's a peaceful place to make out- er, hang out, enjoying each others presence surrounded by nature
❀˖° you gave him one of those sprout bookmarks once and he was so so excited frfr
❀˖° "look, baby! our special interests are colliding!" he cheered, proudly showing you the book with the little sprout out of it.
❀˖° ALSO if you give him a flower crown, he will not take it off for the foreseeable future
❀˖° "are you deadass gonna train with that on your head?"
❀˖° "yeah, and i'm gonna obliterate you, too, jackson."
❀˖° def has pressed flowers E V E R Y W H E R E
❀˖° in his wallet, as a bookmark, drying between the pages of his books
❀˖° he can never escape the pressed flowers, even if he wanted to (which he doesn't)
❀˖° legit took 'stop and smell the roses' a bit to literal and now he's dating THE flower girl of the century
❀˖° loves when he catches the smell of flowers on a breeze or something because it always makes him think of you
❀˖° can't look at floral patterns, floral scents, or floral art without letting you know that he's thinking of you
❀˖° not that you ever really leave his mind but whatevas
❀˖° jason could spent the rest of his life with his knees covered in mud, dirt permanently under his fingernails, and scratches from branches and thorns if it meant he'd spend it with you, his precious flower girl!!
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thesamoanqueen · 3 days
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Beast
A/N: my lovely @harmshake asked me what the "beast mode" that journalists attribute to Roman is for me. I have a clear idea, because he has already talked about it, but I wanted to try something in a sort of headcanon/imagine, a type of fanfiction I hadn't tried yet here. [warnings: 18+ smut, jealousy, protective prompt}
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Between the two of you, the one with the more visceral attitude was you and it was not surprising considering every woman is forced to fight for everything on a daily basis. Roman, not the Tribal Chief the crowds was used to, was a man it was simple to feel at ease, great listener, good manners and hypercritical mind on a personal level. He was a mama's boy, not because he was spoiled - even if it was true -, but in his ability to understand, give and care, qualities every man should have and which unfortunately were lacking in most boys. However there were moments, scenarios, in which he too gave in to the less soft side of himself and when he finally snapped, it was like facing a beast that had forgotten had been tamed.
#Jealousy
Your relationship was his top priority, his jealousy didn’t come from insecurity or doubts and for this reason perhaps it would have been more appropriate refer to it as territoriality, rather than jealousy. Seeing you admired, at work as much as in private life, filled him with satisfaction and pride, for him there was no pedestal too high for you. When admiration became something more though, that part of him less inclined or not at all to tolerate woke up in full force, pushing him to mark and protect what was his without worrying about anything else.
The overly insistent glances put him on alert, the whispered proposals in an effort to lure you away from him made his mouth twitch, but it was the attempts to invade your personal space that drove him crazy. He knew you were capable of taking care of yourself, he never stood by though and watched when some mr. nobody put a bad idea into practice and it didn't matter if there was too many drinks or an agreement between sides where it was necessary stay cordial to justify it. It was then that his hands found you, sliding along your back or pulling you by his side in an intimate touch to show he was the only one chosen for such a privilege. You would have recognized him just by the touch, even blindfolded, but it wasn't necessary because with his hands, all his presence came: solid body pressed close to reassure, shield you and intimidate anyone who thought could get over him and his voice, so soft, caring in your ears as he made sure you were okay and threatening to anyone unfortunate enough to deserve direct confrontation.
- "Back off" – the target almost never understood what was happening, staring in silence.
- "You heard me. Take a step back, two and three, all the way until you get back from wherever you came from. Or maybe you want a lil help, hm boy?"
The few who had tried to resist intimidation, even assert themselves, had regretted it the moment next, ending up in a match they could never have won and which they quit at the first serious grab as you said your prayers to bring Roman back to his senses.
#Dangers
As with jealousy, his patience reached the bottom even when you found yourself, as he said, in potential dangerous situations. Organizing and planning was part of your job duties, it wasn't often that something was beyond your control, but unexpected events happened on trips and was when plans changed that Roman didn't like it, especially if he wasn't physically there with you to deal with whatever what’s going on. A delayed flight at an inconvenient time, an impromptu hotel in an unsafe city triggered a chain reaction you most often tried to avoid, managing it without warning him or giving too many details. But Roman seemed to have a sense, reading between lines and then calls and messages began, to know where you were and what or why was happening, ending with an epochal argument on the phone when you finally confessed - even if in the end it was resolved all for the best -.
- "This isn't up for discussion! Im going to come between you and anything bad in your damn life! You should have told me!"
It wasn’t a mania, but real concern and the only reason why you put up with his outbursts. The idea in his mind of not being there when you could have needed him made his blood boil, see things more dramatic than expected. You had gotten into real problems years before, a few bad moments that had taught you a lot and for which he had jumped on the first available flight or in a car, forgetting to rest even after too many hours of work, consuming miles to even reach the other coast of the country. The beast that thundered, opening his mouth, going head-to-head against everything and everyone, turning everything and everyone upside down, had made you feel small then, but it had come to your rescue.
#Job
Comments didn't affect him, he had heard too many boos during his career to be impressed, but he channeled disappointment into his training and it was when he gave everything. For Roman it wasn't about preparing, it was about trying, testing his endurance, pushing himself for when the moment came. His returns had always been epochal events, changing the direction of the entire industry. His impact was unique because regardless of whatever people's opinions were out there, Roman had always left his mark for better or worse and he did it knowing he could. You supported him, assisted him as you could, but there was a part of you always worried it could have been too much and things could fall apart.
He had never really fallen though and if it had happened, his mindset had put Roman back on his feet immediately, proving to you over the years that nothing could really bring your man down even fighting the worst challenges. When the goal became clear in his mind, when he focused, there was nothing and no one that could push him down another path or make him change his mind. He was ready to crush any obstacle, overcome limits that he himself had previously drawn, see what others could not. Roman tenacity went beyond physical strength, it was mental, psychological, a terrifying confidence that brought out the part of him that made him so special. He didn't believe he could do anything, he knew he was capable of it and in one way or another Roman always found a way to do it, shaping himself and everything around him to realize his vision. Another species of man on another level of greatness.
- "Is perfect, take a break" – you tried to convince him and he nodded, but you saw it in his eyes even before you heard it.
- "One more time."
#Love
Sweaty body, heavy breathing, a man working hard to satisfy you.
You had your love adventures, but comparison with those who had been there before and Roman wasn't even a comparison. You had never felt so much love and lust in someone's arms, never had you felt so precious and fragile at the same time, like a flower pressed between the pages of a book, while he crushed you between the sheets. Sloppy kisses on your lips and delicate ones on your forehead, hands moving a lock of hair from your face and then sinking into the flesh of your thighs, turning you upside down as he pleased.
- "I'mma fuck my name in your head sweetheart, don't run, you ain't going nowhere" – promises that sounded like threats and made you tremble, a wave of pleasure washing over as you felt him go deeper – "you're stuck with me, quit it."
You whimpered, clinging to him like your life depended on it, shaking your head, begging, but Roman knew you better than you knew yourself and his grin always came right on time. When you felt like you were at your limit, he would increase the pace, pounding until he took air out of your lungs to kiss you and fill them with himself. Your body melted in his big hands, tears and sweet moods, climaxes following one another to the rhythm of your heartbeats and his brown eyes adoring and consuming you. Moans then became silent, pleasure intense to the point you couldn't feel anything else, you curled up giving in, abandoning yourself to his imperative desire to claim you. Only then did Roman slow down, bending you over, going beyond that sweet spot that he had tortured for the whole night, chasing his own pleasure this time and the perversion in his mind that made him go feral to fill you with his seed. Then he buried his face in your neck, between your breasts or behind your shoulder blades, hips pressed against your skin, nutting right into your soul and everything around you both fell silent to let the beast finally rest.
Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @alyyaanna @expert-texpert @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @joannasteez @reignsx @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @333creolelady @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @dreamsinfocus @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @smile1318 @headoftheetable @sortudademais @bookuce
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I can completely break down the notion that jews do not experience ethnic discrimination within western countries, specifically the USA.
for context I am genetically half jewish and half italian, and since I was born i have been more connected to judaism in a cultural and a religious sense. though its not a huge part of my life like judaism is it's definitely still important.
a lot of people like to argue that jews were once not seen as white and now we are, just like Italians, Greeks, Irish, etc were (at least in the USA) and I can confirm that's total bullshit. I have, not once in my life, been treated badly for being Italian. I have never had someone shame me for my appearance, make fun of my cultural food, threaten me, insult me, insult my father, say they wish I died, harassed me, or any other violent or demeaning acts because im Italian. not once in my entire life has that happened. even living in the rural USA where traditional white supremacy is alive and well that did not happen.
yet I have absolutely been harassed, verbally abused, demeaned, belittled, etc. for being jewish. Ive experienced antisemitism since I was 5 and possibly younger. ive heard holocaust jokes, nose/eye jokes, had swastikas drawn on my things, received death threats, gotten rape threats, been called a murderer, been told I should burn, was told I was poisoning the seas, had people deny my very real trauma, was told that I should've stayed dead (for context I overdosed and had to be resuscitated once), and many more things all because im jewish. these are just instances in which it was specifically mentioned or heavily heavily implied that its because im jewish.
Many of these things happened when theae people didn't even know I'm a practicing jew and some even when I stopped practicing for a couple years. a lot of the time the only reason they had to believe I was jewish was my appearance and yeah sure they were right but what it shows is that appearance alone is enough for people to be antisemitic. you know, if jews weren't ethnically discriminated then why do people target us for having things like large noses and curly hair? or for the foods that we eat? or for anything that isnt directly related to religious practices?
anyway I dont believe for a second that anyone who thinks jews dont experience ethnic discrimination in the USA has ever had a genuine conversation with a jew about antisemitism. 5 year old me did not deserve to feel like he was ugly all for some assholes to say that jews are making all this up.
☆this is part 2 in which I will add important context bc if anyone is gonna overanalyze my argument its me. u can read it if you want its not necessary to understand the post.
like I said I have spent most of my life in rural areas where there are many less jews than in big cities and obvious white supremacy is common. im 100% sure this affected a lot of the antisemitism i received.
I am sephardic, not ashkenazi. most goyim do not have a clue what this means. those who do generally think it means "jewish but spicier and more exotic (aka less american)" which could have contributed to some of the discrimination i faced for not being seen as American enough.
this is my experience not anyone else's! I am not discrediting what other people have gone though regarding any experiences with discrimination
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bigdumbbambieyes · 16 hours
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They used to have sex every single day.
Hot, rough, quick sex whenever and wherever they could.
In their cars, in their rooms, on the recliners by Steve's pool, on his mother's perfectly kept cream coloured couch.
Always frantic, always desperate.
But, that was then, and this is now.
Billy feels shame. And guilt. A lot of it.
He takes antidepressants now and they're helping a lot, but not in other ways.
He can remember the flash of disappointment in Steve's eyes the first time he couldn't get it up for him. The humiliation and shame of not being able to get his fucking dick hard for his hot as fuck boyfriend who loves him and wants him -- it had been too much.
Even the soft touches and whispers of 'it's okay' weren't enough to push those feelings away. He pulled away, ran away, to the bathroom to hide in his shame, tears in his eyes.
Because he's always been good at sex. Always ready to go. It was what people had always wanted from him, what he was good for, and now?
It's been over a month now. Billy doesn't even want sex, which is a startling and unsettling feeling, but he's getting used to it.
He knows Steve isn't, though. Or, at least, he assumes, because Steve will still and try to start things late at night and Billy will tell him that he's 'tired' or 'not in the mood' and he hates the way Steve mumbles a soft 'okay', like he's given up.
Steve had even tried to bring it up one day over dinner, but Billy shut that conversation down immediately. He couldn't even look into his boyfriend's eyes when he did.
He knows he's a coward. He always has been.
But, Steve isn't.
Which is probably why, tonight, he's crawled into bed beside Billy and wrapped himself around him so tight.
Pressing his cheek into Billy's shoulder, and when Billy glances over at him from his book, he sees those big Bambi eyes staring up at him, and those pretty lips part to abruptly say, "Even if we never have sex again, I'll be here."
It makes him blink, caught off guard by it, and he feels that nagging shame telling him to push Steve away or get out of the bed, but Steve wraps his legs around his and holds him tighter, his gaze unrelenting.
His pretty boy presses a tiny little kiss to his shoulder and mutters, "I read the side effects of your meds."
It makes his skin prickle to know that.
"Billy," Steve breathes, frowning, "I love you, y'know?"
Billy nods, swallows thickly and mutters, "I know."
"Then talk to me."
Staring down at Steve, into those earnest eyes, filled with so much love and frustration, Billy knows he should. He owes Steve that much.
"It's," his voice catches, feels a lump form in his throat, "It's hard to."
"Why?" Steve whispers, thumbing over his skin where he's grabbing Billy's other freckled shoulder.
He gives a shrug, wishing he could just tell his boyfriend to drop it, but he can't do that to him. He's trying to be better.
There's tears in his eyes now, he can feel them wobbling on his lower lashes, but he decides to be brave and push past that shame and embarrassment to confide in his boyfriend, his best friend, his goddamn everything to whisper, "It's...so fucking embarrassing."
The tears stream down his cheeks, his face twisting as emotions creep up his throat, and Steve's face softens immediately -- and then he's bringing Billy into his chest, letting him hide there for a moment as he sobs, rubbing his back and kissing his hair, comforting him.
He feels so small like this, whenever Steve cuddles him into his chest, but it's also so safe. He knows he'll always be able to have this because Steve always puts him here, whenever he needs it, and it makes him breath just a little easier, even as he cries.
"What's embarrassing about it?" Steve whispers, his tone soft and curious, encouraging Billy to open up.
And again, Billy fights back the instinct to clam up, to shut down, and mutters into the soft fabric of Steve's sleep shirt, perhaps a little bit too mean, "I can't fucking get it up for you."
"But it makes sense, with the pills," Steve mumbles, not even bothered by the harshness in Billy's tone because he's used to his boyfriend being sensitive, "Like, you still like me, right?"
"Obviously," Billy mutters with a sniffle, furrowing his brows as he continues, "It's just...so frustrating. I--we used to fuck all the time, but even if I try to get hard, I just...can't."
If he wasn't so fucked up he'd fuck Steve all the time.
"It's not your fault, Billy," Steve murmurs, his voice firm, "Not having sex doesn't mean I don't love you. You mean so much more to me than just fucking -- please tell me you know that."
And, he does. Billy does know that. "I do," he whispers, realizing, "It's just...more of a 'me' thing."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Like..." he pulls away from his hiding place, just enough so he can see Steve again, in the warm glow of the bedside lamp, and it gives him enough courage to continue, "I've always thought that sex was...all that I was good at. That it was, y'know, what everyone wanted from me. So...when I realized that I couldn't do that, with you, I just...felt so embarrassed and ashamed."
Steve's eyes soften again, his voice just as soft as he mumbles, "Baby--"
Billy can't stop, "I know I'm shit at telling you things and how I feel, so I try and show you instead. And sex was always easy for me, to show you that I love you, because I got to make you feel good and that made me feel good, but...but now I don't know--"
"Coffee."
Billy's mouth snaps shut, confused, as he asks, "What?"
Steve smiles gently and reaches up to brush Billy's hair back, "You make me coffee every morning. You cook my favourite pasta whenever I'm sad. You massage my shoulders whenever you see me rubbing them, and even when I'm not. You always give me the blue piece whenever we play board games because you know it's my favourite colour. You're always the first one to reach out when we hold hands."
Oh.
"You do know how to love me, Billy," Steve murmurs, sliding his hand down from Billy's hair and to his cheek, thumbing over it with such tenderness it makes tears well in his eyes again, "I feel loved by you all the time. With or without sex."
Billy can feel his chin wobbling a bit as the new tears fall, because no one has ever loved him like this. He hasn't let anyone love him like this before. He feels stupid for ever thinking that sex would make or break them when they've fought literal monsters together.
"Do I make you feel loved?" Steve asks.
"Yes," Billy answers immediately, even nodding as Steve holds his face, "You tell me all the time and I feel it."
He feels it every time Steve praises him. Whenever Steve buys him a little something just because it reminded Steve of him. Whenever Steve lets him cry in his arms, like this. He feels loved when Steve encourages him to talk to him about how he feels because no one has ever fucking done that for him -- held space for him like Steve has.
"Good," Steve smiles, a little relieved, "And, I'm sorry, that I didn't realize it sooner -- I wouldn't have tried to, like, initiate and stuff. I feel like a dick, like I was pressuring you."
"You weren't pressuring me," Billy mumbles, reaching up to place his hand over Steve's on his cheek, "I felt fucking horrible for even saying 'no'."
"Never feel bad for saying 'no', baby," Steve insists, "It's nothing personal, I know that now."
Billy nods in understanding, the both of them staring quietly at one another, and Steve gives him a small smile that Billy returns weakly.
"I love you," Steve murmurs, scooting forward a little more just so he can brush the tips of their noses together affectionately, "I love you so much, Billy."
"I love you, too," Billy whispers, closing his eyes and nuzzling back, lowering his mouth a little more to press his lips against his boyfriend's in a gentle kiss.
He feels Steve kiss him back, soft and loving, so patient and understanding that it makes Billy's heart ache in gratitude and adoration.
He'll never love anyone else like he loves Steve, he knows that much.
"I'm willing to try, soon," Billy murmurs when they pull away, their hands still intertwined on his cheek, staring into those dark eyes.
"Sex?" Steve murmurs, his brows lifting.
"Yeah," Billy whispers, leaning into Steve's touch.
"Not because you feel like you have to?" Steve questions, worry in his tone.
Billy shakes his head, "No," and adds a little playfully, "I still want my boyfriend to fuck me, even if I can't fuck him."
Steve huffs a quiet laugh at that and leans in to kiss him again, nodding in agreement, "Yeah, we can do that. Whenever you wanna try, I'm ready."
Where there had once been shame and embarrassment is now a soothing feeling of being understood and known, so sweet that it makes Billy kiss his boyfriend again and again, wanting to say 'thank you' but knowing that Steve already knows.
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