#AAAAA I NEED A CIGARETTE

[1roentgen]

please excuse me

[velarisdusk]

Burning Desire

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Series Masterlist Part 4 <- ✦.⁺.✦.⁺.✦ -> Part 6 - TBD!

word count: 17k (AAAAA?)

content: [ explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV, BDSM, power dynamics, bondage, gags, sensory deprivation, pain play, spanking, paddling, flogging, begging, degradation, praise | infidelity, emotional infidelity, explicit language, alcohol, drinking, smoking (cigarettes, marijuana), bitches are fake as fuck, bad rebound choices, i.e. casually fucking someone who you KNOW has had an actual crush on you for years and not caring, the Vanserra family is a loving one in this he deserves happiness ]

summary: In a depression following being caught cheating, a troubling phone call brings a harsh revelation. Distraught and in need of comfort, you turn to Eris, who's been trying to reach out since that night. He provides the emotional and physical escape you need.

author's note: oh. my. god. i've been working on this for what feels like a decade i feel like years have been taken off of my life. school has been killer (negative), writing this was killer (positive), and i hope you enjoy >:)

It’s been two weeks.

Two weeks of rotting in bed, drowning in self-pity, and starting your days with cigarettes and bottles of rum. Over a week ago, you threw your phone into the drawer of your nightstand, barely resisting the urge to post a pity-filled story for your close friends. Before you essentially vanished, you noticed texts from Feyre and Mor. That was nothing out of the ordinary, but you didn't read them, dreading their content. Were they upset? Angry? What did they think of you? Were the messages even about the situation? You couldn't say if they knew or not.

You also received messages from Az, Eris, and Tarquin. Their concern surprised you, figuring that bro code would have outranked you on the list of priorities. But then, were they even still talking? If you were Cassian, you’d probably cut off all communication.

It was a complicated situation. They all worked together and had for years. They couldn’t just walk away; they were bound by contracts. You wondered how practice was faring if it was even happening. By now, they must have realized that Cassian wasn’t speaking to you. Whether they kept things private or shared the news with Feyre, Mor, or anyone else, you had no idea. You hoped they had the sense not to all come downstairs at once after your departure with Cassian. But even if they were careful, it must have been noticeable when they started reappearing suddenly.

Two weeks of these thoughts hurtling through your mind.

You haven’t told your mother why you showed up disheveled at her door in the night. How could you? You couldn’t bear to face her after admitting what you’ve done.

But as the hours stretch endlessly, a surge of loneliness (only the latest of many) finally drives you to your phone. You respond to the texts from Azriel and Tarquin, reassuring them that you’re as fine as you can be. When you open the text thread with Eris, you’re caught off guard.

Hey, just checking in. How are you holding up?

If you need someone to talk to I’m around. Seriously.

Look, I get that it might seem weird coming from me, but I’m genuinely concerned. No strings, I just want to make sure you’re okay.

I’m not trying to pry, but isolation doesn’t help. If you need a break from everything, my line’s always open.

You sit there, staring at the string of messages, each one making you feel a little more seen, a little more cared for. You aren’t even sure you want to acknowledge that right now. It’s almost too much, the kindness wrapped in Eris’ words, especially when everything else feels like it’s crumbling around you.

But Eris’ texts… they’re a lifeline, a small thread of connection in a sea of isolation. You pick up your phone again, reading through the messages once more, feeling the sincerity behind them. The idea of responding, of reaching out, is both comforting and terrifying. But the thought of facing all of this alone, of letting it continue to eat away at you in silence, is somehow worse.

Your fingers start to move, typing out a response before you can second-guess yourself.

you’re not prying, thanks for checking in. captain morgan’s been keeping me company lmfao

No sooner do you turn your phone off and toss it onto the bed beside you does the screen light up again with a buzz. That was fast.

Sounds like he’s good company, but maybe not the best listener. How about a real conversation instead?

You can almost hear the playful tone in his words, a lightness that cuts through the heavy fog of your thoughts. It’s enough to make you smile, just a little, even as the weight of everything else still hangs over you.

Another buzz and his next message appears.

Seriously, if you want to talk, my door’s open. No pressure, just an offer.

You can tell he’s trying to strike a balance, not pushing it too hard but still getting through your head that he’s there. It’s disarming in a way, and it leaves you wondering if maybe, just maybe, you should take him up on that offer.

thanks eris, i might take you up on that. it’s just… a lot rn, yknow?

There’s a pause, the seconds ticking by as you wait for his reply. You don’t have to wait long, and it’s as straightforward a reply as you expected.

I get it. You didn’t make the mess alone, just wanted you to know you don’t have to deal with it alone. And if you want to get out of your place for a bit, my offer still stands. You can even invite the captain as your plus one if that helps.

You smile at that, a small huff of amusement escaping you. The thought of getting out of your old childhood bedroom, of not being surrounded by the same four walls that have seen you at your lowest, is more appealing than you’d like to admit. Maybe a change of scenery, and the chance to talk things out with someone, would help.

Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you think about how to respond. Part of you wants to dive in and take him up on the offer right away, but another part of you hesitates, unsure how it would look if Cassian found out. You decide to keep things simple. You don’t respond.

Without paying any mind to the countless social media, text, and call notifications from your other friends, you open your texts with Nesta and make a FaceTime call. The thought of her blunt honesty is a small comfort in your otherwise bleak current existence.

Her face appears on the screen, and though her expression is one of surprise and concern, you can’t help but feel a twinge of relief.

“Where’ve you been? You look…”

She trails off, her eyes narrowing as she takes in your appearance. You glance at yourself in the small window at the top corner of the screen. Your eyes are puffy and red, your face is pale, and the bags under your eyes seem darker than ever.

“Talk to me,” Nesta says, her voice gentle but firm, as if trying to cut through the fog of your despair.

You draw a deep breath, the weight of your emotions pressing heavily on your chest. “I don’t even know where to start,” you admit, your voice trembling. “Everything feels like it’s falling apart. I’m a fucking mess.”

Nesta’s gaze softens further, her concern palpable. She leans in slightly, her tone soothing yet resolute. “You can tell me whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m here.”

The hesitation is palpable as you search for the right words, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. Finally, you find the courage to confess. “I messed up, Nesta. I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’ve ruined everything.”

Nesta’s expression tightens, her eyes flicking to something off-screen for a moment before she returns her focus to you. She runs a hand through her hair, a sigh escaping her lips as she gathers her thoughts. “Just... try to explain what happened.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions before asking, “Do you know what’s been going on?”

Nesta’s gaze momentarily shifts away, a flicker of something you can’t quite read passing over her face. “I’ve heard bits and pieces,” she begins, her tone deliberately vague. “But I’d rather hear it from you.”

Sensing her evasiveness, you decide to give her a broad overview. You explain the guilt and confusion you're feeling, how everything seemed to unravel and make the situation worse than you could have imagined. You describe the betrayal and the weight of not knowing how to mend things. By the time you’ve caught her up, your words are coming out through hysterical cries and gasps for air between sobs.

Nesta listens quietly, absorbing the emotional weight of your words. Her expression reflects a mix of sympathy and contemplation as she processes the gravity of what you’ve shared.

“I broke that boundary to hell, Nesta. I ruined everything.” Your voice trembles with the weight of your confession, the words feeling like a leaden anchor pulling you down.

Nesta’s brows knit together, her concern deepening as she tilts her head slightly. “What boundary…?” she asks, her tone gentle yet probing, as if trying to piece together the fragments of your unraveling story.

You swallow hard, trying to steady your breath, but a sniffle escapes you. “They’ve all been pretty flirty with me since the beginning, and Cassian and I… we decided early on that we didn’t mind it?” You pause, glancing down at your hands as you fidget with the red scrunchie around your wrist, twisting the fabric between your fingers. “So we’d just let them like… make comments… touch up on me a little–”

A sudden, sharp gasp crackles through the phone speaker, cutting through your words like a knife. Your eyes narrow as you stare at the screen in confusion. That sound hadn’t come from Nesta; you’d been watching her intently this whole time, and her lips hadn’t moved.

You furrow your brows, your heart quickening with unease. “What was that? Is there someone there with you?” you ask, trying to keep the edge of suspicion out of your voice, but failing.

But her face is the image of calm, save for the confusion in her furrowed brows. “Huh? Oh, it was just the TV,” she says, quickly flipping her phone around to show you the screen. The shaky camera reveals a reality show playing in the background, the exaggerated drama of strangers’ lives filling the awkward silence.

But your gut tells you something’s off. The way her hand shook just a little as she moved the phone, the tension still lingering in her posture. It all feels wrong. Despite her attempt to brush it off, the seed of doubt has been planted, taking root in the back of your mind.

Nesta flips the phone back to face her, and her voice is smooth and encouraging as she speaks. “So, what are you going to do? Are you going to talk to him?”

You hesitate, letting out a sigh as you rub your temple. “I don’t know. I’m scared of what he’ll say, or worse... what he won’t say. I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of rejection, Nesta.”

She nods slowly, her expression softening into one of understanding. “You have to do what feels right for you, but running away won’t make it any easier in the long run. I know it’s—and I’m sorry to say this—your fault, but you still deserve to know where things stand, even if it’s hard to face.”

You shift uncomfortably, the weight of her words pressing down on you. “I know, I just... I need time to think. To figure out what I want, what I’ll do.”

Nesta listens patiently, offering her quiet support as you continue to spill your thoughts. The conversation drifts from your immediate fears to the what-ifs. She shares some of her own experiences, her voice a mix of tough love and genuine care, giving you just enough space to feel heard without feeling judged.

The minutes tick by, and soon you find yourself leaning back into the pillows, the exhaustion creeping in. You talk about other things too, and an hour passes before you even realize it, the conversation winding down naturally, both of you running out of things to say. It’s a comfortable silence now, a brief respite from the storm of emotions you’ve been weathering.

“I should let you go,” you finally say, your voice soft. “Thanks for listening, Nes. I... I needed this.”

Nesta smiles, a touch of warmth breaking through her usual stoic demeanor. “Anytime. You know I’m here for you.”

You nod, feeling a little lighter, if only for a moment. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

As you move to end the call, you hear it—faint, but unmistakable. A voice, muffled but clear enough to make out the words: “No way–”

Your heart skips a beat, but before you can react, the call disconnects, leaving you staring at the screen, that single phrase echoing in your mind. The voice wasn’t Nesta’s, and it sure as hell didn’t come from the TV. You know that voice. It’s familiar in a way that makes your stomach churn, your pulse quicken. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks, a cold wave of dread washing over you.

It was Elain’s. You’re sure of it. You sit there for a moment, phone still in hand, your mind racing. But why would she be there hidden from view? Why wouldn’t she just say hello or at least make her presence known? The questions tumble over each other, forming a gnawing pit of unease in your gut.

Then, like pieces of a puzzle snapping together, the thought hits you: Elain was listening in, but she didn’t want you to know she was there. The secrecy, the way Nesta quickly tried to cover it up. It wasn’t just about eavesdropping. No, it felt intentional, like Elain was trying to gain insight into your situation with Cassian. Your breath catches in your throat as the implications sink in. A cold, hard truth begins to crystallize in your mind. She wanted to know the details because it mattered to her. It mattered because she’s involved—because she and Cassian are…

You don’t want to finish the thought, but it’s there, undeniable and ugly. Elain and Cassian. It explains the secrecy, the way Nesta tried to protect her, and the sickening feeling gnawing at your insides.

The weight of it is almost unbearable, pressing down on you as you sit there, phone in hand, processing the cruel truth that’s just come to light. Elain and Cassian. How? Why? You never saw any sign in their interactions before. The bitterness of the revelation is a sharp, relentless edge in your chest — you need to do something, anything, to shake off this feeling.

You push yourself up from the bed with a determined resolve, your mind racing with anger and the need to reclaim some sense of control. First things first: you need to wash off the remnants of the last two weeks, the sweat and guilt that cling to you.

The hot water of the shower is a welcome relief against your skin, and you let the steam envelop you, trying to wash away the emotions churning inside. You lather up, scrubbing away the sweat and liquor and cigarette smoke, letting the water run over you until you feel clean, both physically and mentally. You stand under the spray, letting the water cascade down your body as if it could cleanse the memories away. When you’re done, you run a comb through your hair, detangling the wet strands with care before blow-drying and styling it, every strand perfectly in place and your arms sore by the time you’re done.

You reach for your phone, fingers hovering over the screen as you debate your next move. Finally, with a deep breath, you type out a message to Eris:

you still up for company?

It’s simple, to the point, and carries the weight of everything you’re feeling right now. Maybe you shouldn’t be doing this, but you hit send before you can overthink it, nerves and anticipation bubbling in your chest. As you wait for his reply, you glance at yourself in the mirror, taking in the freshly styled hair, and the clean skin. You look entirely different than you did this morning. You’re someone in control, someone who knows what she wants. Your phone buzzes.

Absolutely. I’ll swing by and pick you up.

You weren’t expecting that, but you don’t hesitate before replying with the address. His response is swift.

See you in 15.

Your eyes linger on the screen, absorbing his words as you double-tap and leave a heart his message. Something is grounding about the certainty in his response. No hesitation, no questions, just action. You set your phone down and take one last look in the mirror, a quiet determination settling in your chest. He’ll be here soon, and you have just enough time to get dressed.

You see Eris pulling up through your window, the white Jaguar rolling to a stop, and you take a deep breath before heading toward the door. As you walk down the driveway towards him, you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the car’s window. Jean shorts and a hand-cropped t-shirt—casual and understated.

Eris’s eyes meet yours as you approach the car, his expression softening with concern. There’s no sign of the smirk you usually see on his face. Just a steady gaze that feels sincere. He leans over the center console and opens the door for you, a simple gesture, but one that makes your heart feel lighter.

As you settle into the passenger seat, you set your tote bag down in the footwell. It holds a mostly full bottle of Captain Morgan, a pack of Newports, some gum, and a lighter you grabbed on your way out.

Eris’s eyes flick to the neck of the bottle sticking out of the bag before he asks, “Bringing the party with you?”

You shrug, offering a faint smile. “You did say I was allowed a plus one.”

He nods, his tone softening. “That I did... You okay?” he asks, pulling away from the curb.

You glance at him, a bit surprised at the shift from teasing to concern. “Not really,” you admit quietly.

Eris gives a small nod, his eyes still on the road. “Could’ve guessed the answer, huh?” he remarks, the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly.

You offer a wry smile and a quiet “yeah.” You glance out the window as the sunlight reflects off passing buildings. “But I figured getting out of the house might not hurt. What were you thinking of doing?”

Eris keeps his eyes on the road. “I can swing by somewhere if you need to grab something or,” he pauses, a sly grin forming. “Or if you’re up for unwinding a bit…”

You raise an eyebrow, catching the playful glint in his eye. “What are you suggesting?”

He shrugs, one hand gripping the steering wheel casually. “We could stop by my plug’s place and pick something up, if you’re looking to take the edge off. He’s got some good shit.”

You lean back in your seat, considering his offer. The idea of numbing your mind with something other than liquor is very tempting. You glance at Eris, his casual demeanor giving nothing away, but you can sense that beneath the surface, he’s paying close attention to your reaction.

You nod, feeling a sense of resolve settling in. “Let’s do it. I could use a change of pace.”

Eris keeps his eyes on the road, but there’s a flicker of approval in them. “Alright, then,” he says with a grin, shifting lanes smoothly as he changes direction. His hands move with practiced ease, one gripping the steering wheel and the other shifting gears with effortless precision. You glance up from your phone just in time to see him reach into the center console. He pulls out a sleek pack of Dunhills, taps one out, and lights it with a quick flick of his lighter.

The cigarette sits casually between his lips, its ember glowing softly as its smoke curls lazily around him. “Want a cig?” he asks, his tone casual as he cracks his window.

You hesitate for a moment, then nod, reaching out for the cigarette sticking out of the pack. Eris passes it to you with a small knowing smile, his eyes flicking briefly to meet yours before returning to the road and lowering your window for you. You take a drag, the smoke filling your lungs and momentarily dulling the edges of your lingering unease. It’s quite the difference from the menthol kick of your usual Newports. The flavor is richer, with a deep, earthy undertone that’s almost woody. It feels more refined, less about the immediate hit, and more about a lingering, sophisticated aftertaste. You exhale, the smoke curling in the air, and the taste leaves a warmth that’s oddly comforting.

“Helps, doesn’t it?” he glances at you, a touch of curiosity in his gaze.

You exhale slowly, watching the smoke get pulled out the window. “A little… Thanks,” you say, and you both know it isn’t just for the cigarette.

Eris nods, his grin widening slightly. “Anytime. We’ve got a bit of a drive, so just get comfortable. We’ll hit the place soon.”

You settle back as Eris merges onto the highway. The sun is high, casting a warm light over the passing scenery. The rhythmic hum of the engine and the classic rock on the radio make for a relaxing ride. You gaze out the window, watching the landscape shift as the car speeds along. After finishing your cigarette, you hold onto the butt, not willing to litter. Eris is focused on the road, so you just hold onto it, unsure what else to do.

A few minutes later, Eris chuckles and glances over, eyebrow raised. “Were you going to hold onto it the whole ride? Come on, you can’t be serious.”

You give a small laugh, shaking your head. “Well, I wasn’t going to throw it out the window.”

Eris smirks, his eyes flicking to the cigarette butt in your hand. “Just give it to me.”

He reaches over, fingers brushing against your wrist as he tries to take it from you. But you’re quicker, pulling your hand away with a playful glare. “No!” you protest, holding the butt out of his reach. “You’re gonna throw it out the window!”

His grin widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans closer, making another grab for it. “I won’t, I promise.” And for some reason, you believe him.

He takes the cigarette butt from your fingers and, with a practiced motion, opens the center console and undoes the locking mechanism on a glass jar. He drops it in, the jar already filled with likely a pack’s worth. The jar seals with a soft click, likely why you hadn’t noticed any lingering smell before. He shuts the jar and console, his attention never wavering from the road.

The smell-proof jar, not even considering littering, doing it all while keeping his eyes on the road—it’s the kind of thing that shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

The drive stretches on with the radio playing softly in the background. You watch the scenery blur past as the car weaves effortlessly through traffic. With the windows still cracked, you catch a glimpse of Eris’s auburn hair tousled by the breeze. The sun casts long shadows across the highway, and you find a strange comfort in the steady rhythm of the drive. Eventually, Eris slows the car, steering off the main road and into a sleek, gated driveway. The place is an upscale, modern mansion with neatly trimmed hedges. Not what you expected. He parks near the entrance and turns to you with a casual smile.

“I’ll leave the car running,” he says. “Lock up, I’ll be quick.”

You nod, watching as he gets out and heads toward the front door. The gate closes behind him with a gentle click, leaving you alone in the plush interior of the car. After a few minutes, Eris reappears with a small, discreet bag in his pocket. He slips back into the driver’s seat, the bag placed neatly into the center console.

The car pulls out of the driveway, and Eris’s eyes flick toward you as he navigates the streets with practiced ease.

“Any special spots in mind, or are you up for anywhere?” he asks, the hint of a grin in his voice.

You shrug, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Nah, yours is fine.”

He gives a teasing scoff, putting a hand on his chest as he speaks. “My place is special, (y/n), you wound me.”

His words pull a genuine laugh from you. It really wasn’t that funny, but hearing your name on his tongue so casually stirs a nervous flutter in your chest.

“What’s so special about it?”

“Besides the view, or the pool, or the game room?” he pauses for dramatic effect, lowering his voice to a murmur. “Yours, truly.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Is that so? And what makes you so special?”

Eris lets out a soft laugh, his gaze flicking to you before returning to the road. “Well, I’ve been told I’ve got a talent for making things unforgettable.”

“Someone’s got a massive ego.”

He grins, his eyes glinting with confidence. “Guilty as charged. You like it though.”

You roll your eyes at that, unable to keep the smile from creeping onto your face any longer. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Ah, you didn’t deny it. I’ll take it.”

“You’re impossible,” you laugh softly, shaking your head.

As the highway fades into the background, the road before you begins to wind through lush greenery. The towering trees start to crowd in, their canopies forming a dappled, sunlit tunnel. Fields of wildflowers stretch out on either side. The road curves gently, revealing glimpses of a large, elegant house nestled among the trees, its silhouette framed by the tranquil lake shimmering in the late afternoon light.

When you step inside, the first thing you notice is how effortlessly cool the place feels—like it’s been designed with a blend of sophistication and laid-back charm. The living room is spacious and airy, with large windows that let in plenty of natural light, casting a warm glow over the polished wooden floors. The furniture is a mix of sleek modern pieces and cozy, oversized cushions that invite you to sink in and relax.

Eris heads over to a low cabinet and retrieves a small grinder and some neatly rolled-up papers from a hidden drawer. He moves with casual confidence, clearly in his element. You couldn’t help but wonder how many women he’d invited here for a smoke before you, having to remind yourself that this wasn’t that. You’re here as a friend who needs an attentive ear.

“So,” he says, flashing a grin as he begins grinding the weed, “what do you think of the place?”

You settle into the sofa, taking in the room’s ambiance. The walls are adorned with tasteful art, and the scent of cedarwood and something subtly herbal fills the air. It’s inviting.

“Not bad, huh?” Eris continues, leaning against the cabinet and looking down at the papers in his hand.

You chuckle, glancing around. “Yeah, it’s alright.”

His eyes dart up to meet yours, a playful, mock-surprised smile on his face. “Crazy…” he murmurs.

You roll your eyes with a smile. “Oh come on, you know it’s a nice place. I'm not gonna shower you with more compliments than you need.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he sits on the couch, starting on the joint. The sound of the grinder and the rustle of the papers are the background to your conversation. “Fair enough. But before we get too cozy with this,” he nods toward his work, “let’s talk. I’d rather hear how you’re really doing.”

You hesitate, feeling a bit vulnerable all of a sudden. “I don’t know if I can get through it all sober.”

Eris looks at you with a soft, reassuring smile, his fingers pausing briefly as they work the paper. “Just try.”

For a moment, you’re silent, the sound of the grinder filling the space between you. You look around the room, at the art on the walls, the low light casting a warm glow over everything. It’s easier to focus on that than on the storm inside your head.

But then you find his gaze again, and the quiet concern in his eyes makes something inside you crack, just a little. "It’s just… everything’s been so overwhelming lately," you begin, your voice soft. "I keep making these choices that… I don't know how to explain it… I’m digging myself into a deep, deep hole. And I don’t know how to get out." You hesitate as you try to find the right words. “It’s just… I don’t even know why I let it happen. I mean, I love Cassian, he’s everything to me. But every time I’m with you,” the words catch in your throat, and you quickly clarify, “with all of you, I mean… I feel like I’m losing myself, like I’m just drifting through all of it without thinking. It’s like I’m not even in control anymore.”

Your voice trembles as the floodgates open, the words spilling out faster than you can stop them. “And the guilt… it’s eating me alive. Every time I’d see Cassian, it was like I was drowning in it. When we went to sleep at night, when he’d kiss me, when we cooked dinner, when he’d tell me he loves me and I said it back with a straight face, knowing what I’ve done… I keep asking myself why I did it, why I kept doing it, but I don’t have an answer. I don’t even know if I’m looking for one or if I’m just trying to justify something that can’t be justified.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the weight of it all is too much. “I thought I could handle it, that I could keep everything separate, but it’s all tangled up now. I’m tangled up. And I don’t know how to fix it, or if I even can.” You pause, swallowing hard as you try to gather your thoughts. Focusing on how methodically he rolls the joint is the only way you can keep from crying. “The past couple of weeks have been a nightmare,” you continue, your voice barely above a whisper. “Every day feels like I’m just… going through the motions. I wake up, and for a split second, everything’s fine. But then it all comes crashing back, and I remember what I’ve done. It’s like this constant weight on my chest, and I can’t breathe.”

There’s a heavy silence as you finish, the room feeling almost too quiet. You glance at Eris, the exhaustion in your eyes reflecting your need for a break from the emotional turmoil. “I can’t keep talking about this right now,” you say, your voice wavering slightly. “I just need to… I don’t know.”

Eris nods, a knowing look in his eyes. “Yeah, I got you,” He stands up, moving with a relaxed confidence, and heads towards the kitchen. You watch him, feeling a small flicker of relief at the prospect of a distraction. He returns with two glasses of ice, setting them down on the coffee table before lighting the joint and pointing towards your bag for the rum. When you reach to pour the drinks, he gently takes the bottle from you, pouring them himself.

You take the glass when he offers it, the alcohol warming your insides and helping to dull the sharp edges of your thoughts. Eris hands you the joint, a small, encouraging smile on his lips. “Here’s to a temporary escape,” he says, his tone lighter now.

You take a slow drag, letting the smoke fill your lungs and the effects of the alcohol and weed start to mingle in your system. The combination is soothing, and you feel the tension begin to ease. As the minutes pass, you can feel the fog of intoxication settling in, and your thoughts become less jagged.

A while later, the room is darker now, the only light coming from the soft glow of the lamp on the side table. The drinks are empty and the bottle of rum you brought stands proudly, and emptily, in the center of the table. The joint is long finished, and the conversation has shifted from heavy to light. You and Eris are more relaxed on the couch, and the air is filled with more classic rock, the remnants of laughter, and the gentle hum of your voices.

You lean back, feeling pleasantly buzzed, the haze of the alcohol and weed wrapping you in a cocoon of warmth. Eris is sitting right next to you, his leg pressed against yours, his hand resting casually on the cushion next to you. The shared warmth and comfortable silence between you feel natural.

“You know,” you say, your voice slightly slurred but lighthearted, “I didn’t think I’d find myself here tonight, like this. But... I’m glad I did.”

Eris glances over at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “Sometimes the unexpected turns out to be the best part of the night.”

You chuckle softly, the sound mingling with the music playing in the background. “Yeah, it’s funny how things work out. I definitely needed this more than I realized.”

He nods, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “It’s good to let go now and then. Just don’t forget there’s still shit to unpack when you’re ready.”

You let out a deep sigh, your gaze drifting around the dimly lit room. There’s a moment of hesitation as the weight of your earlier conversation looms on the edge of your thoughts. The alcohol and weed have softened the edges, but the heaviness is still there.

Eris shifts slightly, his hand moving a bit closer in the process. Whether it was intentional or not, you don’t know. ���You know,” he says gently, “it’s not every day you find someone willing to listen without judgment. You should take advantage of that.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the pressure build behind your eyes. “Cassian… he’s been nothing but loving, nothing but kind to me. And it kills me, Eris. It kills me to look at him and know that I’ve betrayed him in the worst possible way. Multiple times.” You feel the lump in your throat as you continue, the warmth of the alcohol making it easier to let your words flow. “I keep trying to think of ways to fix it, to find some sort of answer or way to redeem myself. But...” Your eyes search the dim room as if trying to find some clarity in the shadows.

“I keep going over every moment, every decision, wondering where things went so fucking wrong. It’s like replaying a movie where I know the ending is tragic, but I can’t look away. I did this shit to myself…

“The hardest part is that he saw everything. He didn’t even need me to confess; he saw it with his own eyes. And everytime I replay that night, I think about how coldly he looked at me. He’s never looked at me like that before. Not that I don’t deserve it.” You glance at Eris, the weight of your emotions clear in your eyes. “I’m trapped in this cycle of guilt and regret, and it’s suffocating. I don’t even know what I’m looking for anymore—whether it’s forgiveness, understanding, or just a way to get rid of all this guilt. The thought of facing Cass again… God, I can’t…”

Eris’s eyes narrow slightly as he takes it all in, draping an arm across the back of the couch. You aren’t quite close enough for it to wrap around you.

You mentally chastise yourself for wishing you were. Thinking like that is what got you into this mess.

His voice is low but steady when he speaks. “You’re human. You made choices. Bad ones, sure, but it doesn’t make you a monster.” He pauses, his gaze intense. “It’s easy to get lost in guilt. But you’re not doing anyone any favors by going MIA. Especially not Cassian.”

You scoff. “Cass doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“How are you so sure?” he asks, his fingers drumming lightly against the couch, the rhythm steady and patient, unlike the chaos unleashed in your mind by the simple question.

The Facetime with Nesta shoves itself to the forefront of your mind as if your subconscious has been holding it back all this time. You’d heard Elain’s voice in the background, imagined her laughter mingling with Cassian’s, imagined him sharing her breath, his tongue deep in—

The thought hit you like a sucker punch, just as the air had been knocked out of your lungs the moment you’d put the pieces together.

“I’m pretty sure Cassian is fucking Elain,” you blurt out, your voice shaking with the weight of the confession.

Eris’s expression doesn’t change, but his eyes sharpen. “Why do you think that?” he asks calmly, though there’s a new edge to his voice.

You swallow hard, the memory still raw. “When I was on a call with Nesta, I heard Elain in the background. She was trying to listen in on me ranting about this all to Nesta… She didn’t even say hi to me, didn’t let me know she was there. Why would she do that unless she was hiding something?”

Eris raises an eyebrow, his expression skeptical but curious. “You might be reading too much into this,” he says, but the sharpness of your gaze makes him backtrack quickly. “Alright, alright, I didn’t mean it like that. Just… how are you so sure they’re involved?”

You exhale sharply, frustration evident. “Cassian is incredibly vindictive in bed,” you say, thinking back to all the times he’d gone hard on you just for catching you making eyes at one of the guys. “I’ve been through his friends, I’d be more shocked if he didn’t try to go through mine.”

Eris’s eyes narrow thoughtfully. “Most of his friends.” He doesn’t elaborate but the implication is clear. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but it’s not always best to assume the worst.”

A fleeting thought crosses your mind. Eris is right. You and he never crossed that line, despite the heated moments over the years, despite the events the night of Ianthe’s party. If Cassian is dropping you off on your mom’s doorstep just to go after your friends, maybe it’s time for you to stop moping around and start embracing some fun yourself. Why should you sit at home and stew when he’s out there doing who knows what? Who knows who? For all you knew, Nesta had fucked him too. And, honestly, Eris doesn’t look half bad in that black, fitted t-shirt and tailored jeans, the thin silver chain around his neck glinting in the low light. There’s a roguish charm about him, just as there’s always been. It’s something that makes him undeniably tempting.

You look down at your lap with a sigh, a feigned sadness in your eyes, and a playful pout on your lips. “Well, if Cassian’s going to do whatever he wants, maybe I should too.” You look up, letting your gaze linger on him, lowering to his lips before meeting his eyes again.

Eris’s eyes flicker with surprise, but he maintains his cool as he raises a brow. “Is this where we’re headed now? I thought we were in the middle of something a bit more serious.”

You scoot closer to him, close enough for the hand on the back of the couch to rest on your shoulder if he wanted it to. “Maybe I’m tired of pitying myself. Or maybe I’m feeling adventurous.” A glint of mischief sparkles in your eyes before you slip back into your act.

Eris chuckles, a faint smile curling his lips. “A distraction, huh? You know that won’t fix anything.”

You shrug, maintaining your demeanor. “Who says it has to be about fixing anything? Sometimes a little distraction is just what you need,” you level. Tired of the theatrics, you scoot even closer and grab that god-forsaken hand, placing it gently on the back of your neck.

Eris’s fingers linger there, his expression shifting from playful to intrigued before he traces soft patterns on your skin. “Is that right? And here I thought you were just looking for a friendly ear.”

You lean closer, your voice dropping to a softer, more flirtatious tone. “You mean to tell me you didn’t have any other intentions? Not a single fleeting thought?”

Eris’s gaze drops to your lips, his eyes narrowing with intrigue. “So, what are you suggesting? Are we breaking some rules tonight?”

You let out a soft laugh. “Yeah, something like that. A night of enjoyment. No strings attached, just...”

Your words trail off as you close the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a slow, heated kiss. His hand grips the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens. It starts slow, almost exploratory, but quickly deepens as you both lose yourselves in the moment. The taste of liquor lingers on his tongue, a heady mix of rum and something uniquely Eris. You savor it, letting the alcohol-infused warmth of the kiss sweep over you. Your lips move against his with increasing urgency, and you gently tug at his lower lip, pulling him closer.

Eris’s hand tightens around the back of your neck, his fingers sliding into your hair as he angles his head to deepen the kiss. His tongue meets yours with a bold, almost possessive stroke, and you pull back just slightly, your breath mingling with his. Your eyes lock, the heat still palpable between you. “I like the taste of you,” you murmur, a playful glint in your eyes.

He exhales, a low, throaty sound that’s part groan, part sigh, as if you’re unraveling him with every word, every touch. It’s the kind of sound that sends a shiver through you, making you feel like you’ve got him right where you want him. His eyes darken with desire and amusement before he leans back in to capture your lips again. This time, the kiss is more intense, a dance of passion and need. His hands roam to your waist, pulling you even closer. The world outside seems to fade away as you both lose yourselves in each other.

Eris’s lips trail down to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You arch into him, the sensation of his touch making you shiver. You let out a soft moan as he kisses a sensitive spot just below your ear, making your pulse race. You’re left feeling lightheaded from the drinks and the smoke, and every touch, every caress feels electrifying. His hands slide up to your back, pulling you tighter against him, if possible.

His lips return to yours, and this time, the kiss is unrestrained, filled with a raw, urgent need. You can feel the strength in his arms, the way he holds you close, as if afraid that letting go might make this moment slip away. He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze smoldering. There’s a breathless pause, the intensity of the moment hanging between you. “You said you were feeling adventurous,” he says, and you shrug. “How adventurous?” His voice is low and his words are laced with an intensity that wasn’t there before.

You let out a soft laugh, the sound almost breathless from the heated kiss. “You’re not planning on taking me out back and murdering me, are you?” you joke, looking out the large windows at the sea of tree silhouettes around you.

Eris’s lips curl into a half-smile. “Well, I hadn’t thought of it, but now that you mention it…”

You nudge him playfully, your smile widening.

Eris’s expression turns serious again, though the amusement in his eyes doesn’t fade. “I promise, nothing like that. But I do have something in mind that might be a bit… beyond what you’re used to.”

You look into his eyes, feeling a mix of anticipation and excitement. “I sincerely doubt that,” you say, your voice steady. You’ve had more than your fair share of sexual escapades, indulging in all kinds of experiences in past relationships. And with Cassian, the bedroom was never without a spark—rarely did things stay simple.

Eris’s eyes brighten with satisfaction. “Good to hear.”

He stands and grabs another joint he’d rolled earlier, offering you a hand to help you up. You take it with a playful smile and follow him.

The music fades as you follow Eris down a short flight of steps. The hallway is lined with eclectic art and framed photos. One with Eris surrounded by a bunch of dogs, a grin on his face that’s more genuine than you’ve ever seen. Another with the Vipers, his arm slung casually around Azriel, all of their faces flushed with victory. You have to talk yourself out of paying too much attention to Cassian in that one. There’s even one of him with who you assume is his family, standing in front of a cabin, all smiles and warmth. It’s a side of him you’ve never seen before, and it makes you see him in a different light—one that’s more personal, more real.

At the end of the hall, a large bookshelf stands against the wall. Eris pauses, throwing you a sly glance before reaching for one of the books. He pulls it, then pushes the bookshelf open, revealing a short set of steps leading down into a hidden space below. How cliché.

“After you,” he murmurs, gesturing for you to step inside.

You look at him with creased eyebrows, to which he only gestures his arm in again. You find a lounge, set slightly lower than the rest of the house, with five or so steps leading down into it. The room is richly decorated, with dark wood paneling, plush seating, and warm, ambient lighting that adds to the intimate, secluded atmosphere.

Eris follows you inside, closing the bookshelf door behind him. The room is completely private, a hidden sanctuary within his home. He steps closer, holding the joint he rolled earlier between his fingers. “What do you think?” he asks, his voice carrying a note of quiet pride.

You take a moment to absorb the space, your eyes drifting over the rich details—the king-size bed on the far wall, the soft glow of the lighting, the floor-to-ceiling mirror on one wall, the smooth texture of the dark wood, the way the room seems to envelop you in warmth. It's intimate without being suffocating, luxurious without feeling ostentatious. You notice cabinets discreetly integrated into the walls, their contents hidden behind polished doors. A smirk tugs at your lips as you turn to face him. “I can honestly say I wouldn’t have expected this from you, Eris. A sex dungeon? Really?”

Eris arches a brow, looking mildly offended. “Dungeon? That’s what you’d call it?”

You raise an eyebrow in response, your teasing tone unwavering as you gesture around the room. “Isn’t that what it is? Hidden room, dark wood, all the ambiance… seems like a dungeon to me.”

He steps closer, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Dungeons are cold and grimey. This is a private lounge, a sanctuary, carefully curated for… specific tastes.”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound echoing softly in the room. “A curated sanctuary, huh? You really do have a way with words.”

Eris’s lips curve into a smirk as he reaches for your hand. “Words, among other things.”

He lets the words hang in the air, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. You arch an eyebrow, leaning in slightly as if challenging him. “Among other things?” you echo, your tone playful. “Care to elaborate?

He steps closer, his gaze steady and full of intent. “You’ll find out soon enough,” he replies, his voice smooth as silk. “But first, I need to know how far you’re willing to go.”

Your heart skips a beat, not out of fear but from the thrill of the unknown. You’re no stranger to pushing boundaries, and something about Eris’s confident, almost predatory demeanor only heightens your anticipation.

Instead of answering directly, you take a step closer, closing the remaining distance between you. “You really think this kind of thing is—What was it you said? ‘Beyond what I’m used to’, was it?” you tease, your lips curving into a smirk.

Eris’s smile widens, his eyes gleaming with challenge. “Alright, alright,” he murmurs before he pulls you in by the small of your back for another heated kiss, and he speaks against your lips. “You have full say in how this goes, I don’t want to go any further than you’re okay with.”

You pull him off by the hair on the nape of his neck, and the muted hiss that escapes him shoots straight to your core. “Oh, well if I’ve got full say,” you say, sarcasm lacing your words. “Give me whatever you think I can take, and then some.” You give him a dazzling smile, but he can only look at you in wonder.

His hands find your waist, giving the flesh there a tight, possessive squeeze. He leans forward, bringing his lips to your ear. “C’mon, pretty girl, strip for me.” His voice is low, almost coaxing, with a soft yet commanding tone that makes your skin tingle.

Though you’re surprised at his suddenness, you don’t hesitate. As you begin to strip away your clothes, Eris steps away, moving toward a large set of deep drawers. He looks back at you as he goes, drinking in your every movement as you peel off each item of clothing. First you shed your shirt, then the shorts, followed by your socks, underwear, and even the scrunchie on your wrist. The air thickens with anticipation as you wait, rather impatiently, to see what he’s looking for.

“Y’know, most guys wouldn’t have their back turned to the beautiful, naked woman in their basement,” you muse, examining your nails as you stand perfectly tall.

“First, it’s not a basement.” He turns to you, black rope in hand, his smirk tinged with an emotion you can’t quite place. “But you’re right, baby. I’m sorry. How about I make it up to you?”

You have to suppress a shiver at his words, or maybe it’s because of the cool air on your bare skin. He takes you in like it’s his first time seeing you, like he didn’t have you practically grinding against the heel of his hand two weeks ago. You’re not sure if it’s the substances in your system or the prospect of doing whatever he can imagine to you, but he feels different today than he had then.

Eris reaches into one of the drawers and pulls out a small, sleek controller. With a quick press of a button, a rig begins to descend from the ceiling, the soft hum of the motor filling the room. He keeps his eyes on you, holding the controller loosely in one hand as the rig stops at around eye level.

His tone is almost casual as he walks back towards you with the rope, the controller goes into his pocket. “Ever use one of these before?” You can only shake your head in response as you walk around the metal hook, thinking for the first time that you may be in over your head. “Good. Go ahead and kneel there for me.”

Eris moves behind you as you kneel, working the rope through the rig and instructing you to place your hands behind your back. The rope isn’t as rough against your skin as you anticipated. His hands work with practiced ease, securing your wrists together. He steps back, watching you with a satisfied expression. Then, with deliberate slowness, he begins to raise the rig, the rope tugging your wrists upward. The position forces you to stand as it continues to rise, his eyes narrowing as you do.

Once you’re in position, bent forward with your arms forced behind you, Eris steps closer again, his fingers tracing the line of your spine. “You look so good like this,” he murmurs against your ear. His fingers skim up your arm, lingering at the nape of your neck. His touch is almost tender, a stark contrast to the tension in the room. “Is it okay if I–”

“Do whatever you want,” you interrupt, your voice steady even as your heart races. “If I don’t like it, I’ll let you know. Just do something, please…” You needed a distraction from your thoughts, and the newness of this all was sobering you up.

A slow, approving smile spreads across his lips as he nods. Without another word, he goes to a cabinet, selecting a few items with deliberate care. When he returns, the scent of him envelops you as he carefully ties a blindfold around your head, plunging you into darkness.

You hear the soft rustle of fabric and the click of something plastic. Before you can dwell on it, the world goes silent as something is placed over your ears. The shift is sudden, disorienting. The subtle hum of the room, even the sound of your own breathing, everything fades away, leaving you in an almost eerie stillness.

The rope tugs uncomfortably, but not painfully, at your wrists, the tension in your arms pulling you taut. Your heart pounds, each beat echoing in your chest, reminding you of the vulnerability you’re allowing yourself. Then you feel it—a gentle tap on your jaw, followed by his thumb brushing against your lower lip, pulling it down slightly. You take the hint, opening your mouth for him. The next thing you feel is cool metal pressing against your lip as he slides a ring gag into place.

“If you need to stop,” he says after raising an ear of the sound-canceling headphones, “shake your head and I’ll check on you. Nod if you understand.”

Just as you do, the pad is back over your ear.

You feel the air shift as he moves around you. Deprived of your sight and sound, your body becomes hypersensitive to every touch, every brush of fabric, every subtle shift in temperature. The tension in the air is palpable, your anticipation growing with each passing second.

A light touch trails down your spine, causing you to shiver involuntarily. The sensation is followed by the warmth of his hand as it settles on your hip, steadying you. You can barely hear your own breath, the sound muffled and distant, heightening the sense of isolation. Then, a gentle tap against your inner thigh. You instinctively spread your legs, the vulnerability of the action sending a rush of heat through your body as his touch lingers, waiting.

Then, without warning, a sharp sting lands across your ass. Your body jerks in response, the sting quickly dissolving into a low, throbbing heat. The unexpected strike pulls a soft whimper from your gagged mouth, but before you can even process it, another comes, and then another, each one precise and measured.

The blows alternate with the soft caress of his hand, the contrast between pleasure and pain pushing you deeper into the headspace he’s crafting for you. The strikes aren’t overwhelming, but each one is enough to remind you of the power he holds in this moment, the control you’ve willingly surrendered.

You lose track of time, each sharp strike followed by soothing touches, the rhythm lulling you into a dazed, almost meditative state. The gag keeps your mouth open, forcing you to focus on the steady rhythm of your breathing, each inhale and exhale carrying a mix of adrenaline and endorphins. The warmth of saliva trickles from the corners of your mouth. The rhythmic stinging across your ass slowly transforms into a heated, throbbing warmth that radiates through your body. Each strike, followed by the soft caress of his hand, leaves you in a heightened state of arousal and anticipation, melding into pain and pleasure that lull you deeper into the experience.

Suddenly, the warmth of his touch disappears, and you’re left in disorienting solitude. The absence of his presence makes you acutely aware of the emptiness left behind, amplifying your anticipation. Without warning, you feel something cool against your inner thigh, followed by the unmistakable sensation of a vibrator pressed against your dripping cunt. It’s startling, and though you can’t hear it, you moan, loud and needy.

His hand is on your hip, steadying you as the vibrations increase in intensity. The buzzing becomes loud and clear as he gently pulls the headphones off, and you hear them thud as they fall somewhere. The sudden reintroduction to sound is jarring as the room’s noises flood back in—the loud hum of the vibrator, the sounds you hadn’t realized you were making, the now husky tone in his voice. Each sound is more vivid than before.

Eris’s voice breaks through this new sensory flood, warm and approving. “You’re doing so well for me, baby,” he murmurs, his tone a soothing balm. After being spanked, then paddled for God knows how long, between his calm, reassuring voice and the relentless vibrations against your cunt, you aren’t sure how long you’ll last.

His fingers replace the vibrator, brushing lightly against your clit. He teases your folds, just enough to drive you wild with need. You squirm against the rope, desperate for more contact, for release.

“You want more, don’t you?” Eris’s voice is low, almost a purr as he leans closer. His breath is warm against your ear. “Tell me what you need.”

He rubs slow circles against you, his fingers like fire against your skin. You try to articulate what you need, but the gag muffles your words into incoherent sounds. The frustration of being so close and unable to finish draws an exasperated groan from you, and he responds with a deep, dark chuckle. Eris’s touch withdraws entirely, leaving you in aching anticipation. The sudden absence of his touch is maddening, your body craving the completion he’s denying you. You can’t see him, but you can feel the warmth of his presence lingering near.

Minutes pass, or maybe just seconds—time has lost all meaning in this swirling haze of sensations. Without warning, you feel the sharp sting of a flogger grazing your inner thighs, just enough to remind you of his control. The flogger’s strikes alternate between gentle taps and more forceful hits, never quite enough to satisfy your growing desperation, but enough to keep you on edge. Each touch pulls you further into the comforting fog he’s woven, and your whimpers morph into sharp yelps of pain, each one more urgent than the last.

“Poor thing,” he murmurs, his voice laced with mock sympathy. “Does it hurt, baby?” His tone is tender, but there’s a sharp edge beneath it that promises much more pain.

You groan, the sound a mix of frustration and need, but Eris’s expression hardens. The flogger lands on your skin again, a sharp crack that reverberates through your body. He grips the hair at the nape of your neck tightly, yanking you closer until your breath mingles with his. You can feel the heat of him, the solid presence that’s both terrifying and intoxicating. His lips hover near your ear, his breath raising goosebumps on your skin.

“Do you have something to say?” he asks, his tone noticeably darker and more dangerous. There’s a tense, almost impatient edge to it, a sign that stepping out of line is not an option. “A complaint? Are you ungrateful for what I’m giving you?”

The flogger’s strikes become more deliberate, more vicious. Each one lands with a stinging, biting pain that blossoms across your skin, the sensations mingling with the ache of your muscles straining to hold the position he’s put you in. He’s toying with you, savoring your helplessness, the way your body trembles and arches under his control, the way your breath hitches in anticipation of each new strike.

“Who’s in charge?” he whispers in a slow, deep voice, every word dripping with malice. You try to answer, but the gag in your mouth turns your response into a pathetic, muffled sound. Your eyes squeeze shut in frustration, tears of helplessness welling up and quickly absorbed by the blindfold. You can’t form the words, can’t tell him what he wants to hear, and that only makes it worse.

He clicks his tongue, a sound of feigned disappointment, and tugs your hair again, forcing your head back. “Ah, couldn’t quite catch that,” he sneers, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement.

You whimper, the sound a pitiful mix of plea and frustration, and he chuckles, a dark, cruel sound that sends a fresh wave of heat pooling in your belly. He’s enjoying this — enjoying how easily you bend to his will, how every strike of the flogger makes you jerk forward with a cry. He wants to see it all, the way you crumble under his touch, the way you surrender every last shred of control and hand your worries away to him.

“I control how this goes,” he growls. “You said you’d be good for me, baby. Did you lie? Do I need to stop treating you like a good girl? Because I can do that if that’s what you want.” The flogger strikes down in the middle of your back with a crack that feels like it splits you open, and you cry out, the sound desperate. Your body lurches forward, but Eris’s hand is still in your hair, holding you in place, forcing you to stay still, to take every single lash he’s giving you.

“Look at you,” he hisses, his voice dripping with condescension. “So fucking needy. You love this, don’t you? Being my little toy, something I can break however I feel like.”

The words cut deep, the filth of them sending shockwaves through you. You hate how true they feel, how much you crave the pain, the degradation he’s giving you. The flogger strikes again, harder this time, and your knees almost buckle from the force of it. But you don’t fall. He won’t let you.

“Oh, you like when I treat you like this. You like this a lot better than before, I can tell. You’re just a fucking hole, aren’t you?” he continues. “A pretty little slut who’ll do anything to please me. Do you even have any shame left, or do you need me to fuck some sense into you?” The flogger descends again, and again, each strike punctuating his filthy words. “I’m going to break you, baby. Turn you into the perfect little slut who’ll take everything I give and then beg for more. And you’ll love it, won’t you? You’ll love being nothing but my whore, thinking about nothing except wanting my cock.”

Each word, each degrading, filthy word, sinks into your mind, pushing you further into the haze of submission. The pain of the flogger, the sting of his words, they’re all you can think about. Your world narrows to just him — his voice, his hands, the way he’s tearing you apart and building you back up, molding you into what he wants, what you need.

He pauses, the flogger still resting against your skin, the rough leather a reminder of what’s coming next. He drags it slowly down your back, letting it scrape over the welts he’s already raised. The sensation is entirely new, a subtle pleasure and pain that leaves you trembling.

“You feel it, don’t you?” he murmurs, his tone a bit gentler now, but still laced with that underlying cruelty. The change gives you whiplash. “I can see it. You want to be good for me, don’t you? You want to show me just how perfect you can be.”

The flogger strikes again, and you gasp, the sound a desperate cry. But this time, he doesn’t stop. He strikes again, and again, the rhythm relentless. Each lash pulls you further from the chaos of your thoughts, dragging you into a dark, twisted place where nothing exists but him. The pain and pleasure blend together until you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.

“You’re going to remember this, baby,” he promises. “You’re going to remember how it feels to be mine, to be owned. And you’re going to beg me for it again, aren’t you? You’re going to come crawling back desperate for me to use you, to turn that pretty little mind off and break you all over again.”

He’s right. You can feel it, deep in your bones, in the way your body responds to him, in the way your mind clings to every word he says.

Eris’s eyes never leave your face, his gaze predatory as he watches you fall apart for him, unraveling under the weight of his dominance. You’re exactly where he wants you — lost in the moment, completely detached from anything and everything happening outside these walls. As the flogger comes down one last time, sending a final, searing wave of pain through your body, you know that this is exactly where you need to be tonight.

Finally, when you’re trembling, he lowers the flogger and returns to your clit, the light, teasing touch of his fingers reigniting the fire within you. “You feel that, baby?” he whispers, his tone teasing. “Feel how wet you are for me? You like when I hit you, don’t you?” He drags two fingers up your center, gathering your slickness on them before bringing them up to your open mouth. “How badly do you want to come?”

You nod, desperate to show him how much you need this, but he’s not finished with you yet. “Tongue out,” he purrs, his voice a low, silky command that sends a shiver through your already trembling body. Without a moment’s hesitation, you obey, sticking your tongue through the cold metal of the ring gag. A string of saliva spills out at the motion, glistening in the low light, and you hear a soft, satisfied exhale from him.

Eris drags his fingers down your tongue, cleans them off inside your mouth, pressing them against your tongue. “Can you taste how badly you want it?” His voice is a dark, teasing caress, each word wrapping around your mind, sinking deeper into that place where only his voice and touch matter.

You can’t respond, not even attempt to, but the question is rhetorical anyway. He doesn’t need an answer; he knows. He withdraws his fingers, leaving your mouth empty, yearning for more. The loss makes you whimper, as does the ache in your jaw — a pitiful sound that he savors as he continues, his tone a mix of mockery and care.

“You can taste how good I’m making you feel, how much you love it when I hurt you. You want to taste something better, baby?”

Before you can process what he means, you hear the familiar flick of a lighter, the soft his as the flame catches. Your heart thumps in anticipation. A moment later, the smell of weed fills the air, earthy and heady.

Eris takes a slow, deep drag from the joint, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment before he leans in close. His lips brush against the edge of the gag as he exhales, blowing the smoke directly into your mouth. It’s so unexpected, so sudden, that you choke, your body convulsing slightly as you try to inhale and cough at the same time.

The thick, pungent smoke fills your lungs, burning them and reigniting your high. You can feel him watching you intently, relishing the way your body reacts.

“Breathe, baby,” he murmurs, his voice deceptively gentle. “I want to see how much you can take.”

Your chest heaves as you fight to draw in air through the second cloud of smoke he blows your way. He chuckles, and with an almost casual motion, he reaches up and unfastens the gag, pulling it away from your mouth. The relief is immediate, but it’s laced with the residue of his control, the taste of smoke lingering on your tongue.

“There we go,” he coos, running his thumb over your wet, trembling lips. “Such a good fucking girl, taking what I give you. But we’re not done yet, are we? No, you’re going to give me more, right?”

His thumb presses against your lower lip, parting your mouth slightly, and you instinctively suck on it, the action almost automatic. Your body responds to him without thought, driven purely by the need to please, to submit, to give him everything.

When he finally, finally begins to untie you, his hands are gentle but firm, his touch careful as he releases the ropes one by one. The sensation of freedom is almost overwhelming after being bound for so long. But before you can fully process it, his hands are on you — supporting you and guiding your arms back down slowly and carefully. He pulls the blindfold from your eyes, and you try to readjust to the lighting.

He’s taking another pull, holding the joint between his lips as he takes you in. But that isn’t what stops you in your tracks. At some point during your immobility, he’d rid himself of his shirt, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from taking him in. His hair is tied back into a bun, strands having fallen loose around his face, and his chest is covered in a glistening layer of sweat. Images of Eris spanking you, walking around you and assessing where to land the next blow, of the muscles in his arms flexing as he strikes. The hungry look in his eyes and the tightness of his jeans as he watches you writhe under his touch.

“How do you feel, baby?” he asks, his tone teasing with an undercurrent of genuine curiosity. “Did I get you there? That nice little headspace where it’s just you and me?”

His voice is soft, but there’s an edge of satisfaction in it as if he already knows the answer. “Did it help?” he continues, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “Did I get you out of that busy little head of yours?”

You nod, still dazed by the intensity of the experience. You’d felt blissful before, sure, but this was entirely different. This was unadulterated endorphins and adrenaline. He grins, the expression both proud and wicked. “Good,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the lingering sensations.

But he doesn’t stop there. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. “Now, let’s see how long I can keep you floating, yeah? You’re not done yet.” Eris tosses the flogger in the general direction of the shelf it goes on, and guides you with a commanding yet gentle touch to a mat on the other side of the room, placed in front of full-length mirrors. The surface underfoot is soft and inviting, and he helps you kneel in the center, the plush cushioning molding to your knees. He moves behind you, his hands brushing along your arms until they rest on your shoulders, a comforting weight as he leans in close. He hands you the joint, inviting you to take a few hits before handing it back. The smoke in your mouth, in your lungs, it only boosts the floating feeling you have from the experience of this all.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice a low, velvety whisper that wraps around you like a warm embrace. “So beautiful, so ready. But I need you to understand something, sweetheart.” His hands slide down your arms until they reach your wrists, guiding them up to the back of your head. “I need you to be ready to trust me completely. How far I push you now is all about helping you relax, so you can completely lose yourself.”

He pauses, letting his words sink in, his breath warm against your ear. “This isn’t about making things difficult, not for either of us. It’s about you letting me guide you through this. I want you to be my good girl, to follow my lead and take everything I give you.”

His hands rest on your shoulders again, squeezing you lightly. “You’re going to do everything I ask, aren’t you? You’ll be obedient, you’ll let me push you, because you know I’m going to take care of you, don’t you?” His voice is soothing, like honey, and you can’t help but melt into it. “You’re going to give me all of you, every last bit, and in return, I’ll give you everything you need. Remember how you begged for this last time we were together? I want you to be that good girl for me again.”

As his words echo in your mind, you recall the last time you were with him, at Ianthe’s party. The memory is all too vivid — your desperate need, your willingness to surrender completely. You had been so open, so eager, voicing all your desires and pleas. The way you had let go of all inhibitions, the intensity of your submission, and the way your words had spilled out in a fervent, almost frenzied confession. The memory is as intoxicating now as it was then, all things considered.

His words are a gentle invitation, luring you in with a calm confidence that makes it impossible to say anything but yes. You feel hesitant as you consider the depth of your commitment. The tension in your chest tightens for a moment, but then you nod slowly, your voice soft. “Yes,” you murmur, the word barely a whisper but laden with an unspoken promise to embrace whatever he asks of you.

Eris’s fingers brush lightly over your hands, guiding you to interlace your fingers. He steps back to observe you, his eyes raking over your form, taking in every detail. The floor beneath you is hard, unforgiving, but his presence—his authority—keeps you grounded. The anticipation builds as he circles you slowly, like a predator assessing his prey.

“Knees wider," he orders, his voice still soft but with a firm undertone that brooks no disobedience. You adjust, spreading them further apart, feeling the strain as your muscles stretch. You watch him through the mirror, watch how he gives a satisfied smirk as you obey. You finally see how blissed out you look. A dewy sheen of sweat covers your body, your chest rises and falls deliciously with each breath, and your skin is red where you remember him flogging you. You couldn’t imagine what your ass and thighs looked like; red as fire, you imagined, if the lingering, stinging pain was anything to go by.

“Arch your back for me.” His hand is at the small of your back, applying gentle pressure until you curve just the way he wants. The uncomfortable position has you on edge, completely exposed, and yet there’s a strange comfort in the way he controls you, in how thoroughly he’s taking over your body and mind.

Eris takes his time, relishing the sight. “Look at you, already so perfect for me,” he purrs, his hand trailing down your spine in a slow caress that sends shivers through you. “You’re going to stay just like this, sweet girl, you hear me?”

You nod as he runs a hand over your head in a soft caress, trails that hand down your spine. Then, without warning, his touch sharpens—a sudden, firm grip on your hips, followed by the sting of his hand against your ass. The first slap is light, almost playful, but it quickly escalates. The next one lands harder, and he pauses to run his hand over the reddened skin, soothing it briefly before delivering another, even harder.

"Does it hurt, baby?" he teases, his voice a low murmur in your ear. "Or does it just make you want more?" He doesn't wait for an answer. Instead, he continues, alternating between sharp spanks and gentle caresses, pushing you to embrace the pain, to find pleasure in the way he’s handling you.

"You’re so good for me," he continues, his tone dripping with satisfaction. "Taking everything I give you. I bet you love it, don’t you? The way I’m making you feel?" He chuckles a bit at your lack of response. “You can speak now, sweetheart, I took the gag off for a reason.”

You hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath. “Hurts…” you manage to whimper, your muscles shaking. “Hurts really good. I want more.” He spanks you again. Hard.

“Is that how good girls get what they want?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed and you recover from the sting of pain.

“No, I’m sorry,” you rush out, wincing from the pain of the spank, the soreness in your legs and arms. It’s too much. “Please, will you give me more?”

He takes one last, long drag from the joint, finishing it off and throwing the roach towards a bin. He drags his fingers down your back again, only to grip your hips and pull you further back, adjusting your position until you’re even more exposed, your knees straining to hold you up. The discomfort is intense, but the way he’s pushing you has you on the brink of something deeper, something more primal.

Finally, he moves in front of you, his eyes dark with intent. He cups your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. "If you want more you’ll have to work for it, baby.” You nod eagerly and he smiles endearingly. “You’re going to show me just how badly you want me," he says, his voice a mix of tender command and raw desire. "And you’re going to do it the way I like."

He steps closer, guiding your face until your lips hover just in front of the zipper of his jeans. "Open that mouth wide for me," he coaxes, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip before pressing it down. "That’s it. Nice and wide."

You obey without hesitation, the need to please him overwhelming everything else. He pulls you into him, his hand resting over your interlaced ones, rubbing your face and mouth into the denim. You feel pride at the way his cock grows stiffer without having taken him into your mouth. You can only imagine how good it must feel to get fucked by that cock, to have it slam into you from below when you ride him, to take it so deep down your throat you can’t even taste his release. A low ‘Now, look at that’ pulls you out of your thoughts, and you look up to see his arms crossed over his chest.

“I don’t even have to ask you to keep going,” he says, his voice laced with arrogance. Your ears turn red with embarrassment when you realize you’ve been practically nuzzling your face against his cock, but oddly, there’s a twisted sense of contentment mingled with it.

He takes his time undoing the button and zipper of his jeans, mere centimeters from your still-open mouth. No one can make taking jeans off hot. No one except Eris, apparently. His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer, but not too much—just enough to remind you who’s in charge.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him. His cock is hard and throbbing, a rich, warm shade of pink with a slight flush at the tip. The girth is impressive, making your mouth water with anticipation. It stands proudly, the pre-cum at the tip glistening slightly under the dim light. You lean in, ready to take him into your mouth. The heat and tension in the air are palpable, and you’re just about to close your lips around him when he gently but firmly grips your hair.

"Not yet,” he murmurs, a playful edge in his voice. “You’re in a hurry, aren’t you? I haven’t given you permission yet.”

You pause, your lips hovering inches away from him. Your eyes flick up to meet his, a mixture of frustration and amusement dancing in your gaze. “You’re cruel, you know that?” You drop your arms, the strain of holding them there finally too much. He notices the shift, but to your relief, he doesn’t say anything, letting it slide.

Eris smirks. “Cruel? I prefer to think of it as… thorough. You wouldn’t want me to rush, would you? A little patience never hurt anyone.”

Your eyes narrow playfully. “Patience, huh? I expect a good reward afterward.”

He raises an eyebrow, his grip on your hair loosening slightly. “Is that so? And what kind of reward are you hoping for, baby?”

“Something a little more satisfying than just this,” you say with a teasing smirk, your wit finally returning after being silenced for so long. “I’m thinking you could make all this worth my while.”

Eris chuckles softly, looking down and relishing the view of his cock hovering over your face. “I will, without a doubt. But you need to be patient,” he repeats. His eyes linger on you as he shifts, rubbing his cock slowly against your cheeks and lips. The touch of his skin is warm and firm, and each movement is calculated, gliding with a teasing pressure. The pre-cum at the tip leaves a subtle, slick trail that only adds to your arousal.

You feel the ridges and veins of his cock brushing against your skin. His touch is firm but purposeful, making sure you feel every bit of his arousal. He takes pleasure in the way your lips part involuntarily, the way your breath hitches with each stroke. Eris’s breathing grows a bit heavier, his gaze intense as he watches your reactions, savoring the build-up and the control he exerts.

As he continues, he lightly traces his cock along your jawline and over your closed eyelids, creating a delicious blend of sensations. The warmth of him mingles with the coolness of the room, heightening the contrast between the two. He pauses occasionally, teasingly pressing his cock against your lips or rubbing it against your forehead, only to shift and start again.

Your need intensifies with each passing moment, the teasing just shy of maddening. You try to keep your composure, but the craving to have him in your mouth is overwhelming. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, you whisper, “Please… let me.”

Eris’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk, clearly pleased with your plea. “Now that’s what I like to hear,” he murmurs, his grip tightening slightly in your hair as he guides you closer. “Go on, baby.”

With a soft breath, you lean in, finally closing the small distance between you and him. The moment your lips wrap around the head of his cock, a soft groan escapes him, and it sends a thrill through your body.

Slowly, you take him deeper, your tongue gliding along his length, savoring the warmth and the weight of him. The slickness of his pre-cum makes it easier to slide him into your mouth, and you hollow your cheeks as you move. His fingers thread through your hair, guiding your rhythm, and you can feel the tension in his body, the barely contained control he holds over himself.

You focus on the sounds he makes—the low, husky breaths, the occasional hitch in his voice when you find a particularly sensitive spot. Each reaction spurs you on, encouraging you to take him deeper, to push the limits of your own control. Eris’s voice, rougher now with desire, breaks through the haze of your focus. “That’s it, just like that,” he praises, his grip on your hair loosening slightly to let you set the pace.

His hips start to move in time with your motions, a slow, steady thrust that matches the rhythm you’ve established. You relax your throat, taking him in further, feeling the head of his cock brush against the back of your throat. The sensation is overwhelming, yet you revel in it, the sheer intimacy of this act, the way you’re entirely at his mercy, yet completely in control of the pleasure you’re giving him.

Eris’s breathing grows more ragged, the tension coiling tighter within him. He watches you, his gaze heavy-lidded with lust, his usual composure slipping just enough for you to see how much he’s holding back. The knowledge that you’re the one drawing out these reactions from him makes you bolder, urging you to take him deeper, to drive him closer to the edge.

But just as you think he’s about to let go, he pulls back slightly, halting your movements. “Not yet,” he breathes, voice strained but firm. “I’m not done with you.” His words are a promise, and though you’re aching to continue, you obey, releasing him with a mix of anticipation and frustration.

Eris's hand slides from your hair to your cheek, his touch gentle now. He leans down, his lips brushing against your forehead in a brief, almost tender kiss before he straightens up. Without a word, he helps you to your feet, his hands steady and reassuring as they guide you toward the bed.

He lowers you onto the soft sheets with care. The roughness from before has melted away, replaced by something softer, almost reverent. As you settle onto the bed, Eris kneels at the edge, his hands gliding over your thighs, spreading them slowly.

He looks up at you, and there’s a tenderness in his eyes that makes your heart stutter. But just as quickly as it appeared, it fades away. He’s silent as he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh, his lips lingering there for a moment before he continues, trailing soft, slow kisses up your leg. Each touch is feather light, as if he’s savoring every inch of you.

When he reaches your core, he pauses, his warm breath ghosting over your most sensitive spot. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, and you feel a shiver of desire run through you. But instead of diving in, Eris takes his time, pressing a soft kiss just above your clit, then another, slightly lower. His lips are gentle, tender.

Finally, his mouth closes around you, and he begins to work with a slow, deliberate pace, his tongue moving in languid strokes that send waves of pleasure through you. There’s no rush, no urgency—just a steady, sweet rhythm that makes you feel cherished in a way that takes your breath away.

His hands slide under your thighs, lifting them slightly as he brings you closer to his mouth, his tongue swirling in a way that’s both gentle and utterly consuming. Each movement is tender, every touch filled with a quiet, unspoken affection. He takes his time, coaxing soft moans from your lips with each delicate flick of his tongue, each gentle suckle.

The pleasure builds slowly, like a tide rising within you, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge, not from overwhelming intensity, but from the sheer tenderness of it all. Eris’s name escapes your lips in a soft, breathy moan, and he hums in response, the vibrations sending a fresh wave of sensation coursing through you.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t rush you to the peak, but lets you linger in the sweet, tender pleasure for as long as possible. It’s only when your body begins to tremble, when you’re right on the brink, that he finally picks up the pace, his tongue moving with a little more pressure, a little more focus, guiding you gently toward the release you’ve been craving.

And when you do fall, it’s into the softest, most blissful release, the kind that leaves you feeling weightless and utterly at peace. Eris stays with you through it all, his mouth never leaving you until the last tremor of pleasure has faded, and then he pulls back, pressing one final, lingering kiss to your trembling thigh. When he does pull away, it’s with a soft, almost reluctant sigh. He moves up your body with the same tender care, his hands trailing lightly over your skin, leaving a path of warmth in their wake. When his eyes meet yours, there’s a softness there.

Eris doesn’t rush. He leans down to kiss you, his lips brushing against yours in a way that’s more about comfort than urgency, more about reassurance than demand. His mouth moves slowly, languidly, tasting you as if he has all the time in the world.

Your hands find their way to his back, sliding up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as your body arches instinctively toward his. There’s a quiet, almost reverent intensity in the way he touches you, his hands moving to cradle your face as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours.

He shifts slightly, his hand sliding down to grip your thigh, hooking your leg around his waist as he settles between your thighs. You can feel the hard, insistent press of him against you, the heat of his skin melding with yours, and it sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through you.

“Are you ready?” he murmurs against your lips, his voice soft.

You nod, breathless, your eyes meeting his with a trust that’s unspoken but absolute.

Eris presses a soft kiss to your forehead before lining himself up with your entrance, and with one slow, deliberate thrust, he fills you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and comfort, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips as he begins to move.

He sets a gentle pace, his hips rolling in slow, deep strokes that leave you gasping. There’s no rush, no frantic rhythm — just a steady, measured movement that builds a different kind of tension. Eris’s hands cradle your face, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks as he watches you, his gaze never leaving yours. Each thrust is accompanied by a whispered word of encouragement, a soft murmur of praise that only heightens the intimacy between you.

Your bodies move together in perfect harmony, each roll of his hips sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you. The world narrows down to just the two of you, the softness of the sheets beneath you, the warmth of his body above you, and the gentle rhythm of your bodies coming together.

Eris leans down, his forehead pressing gently against yours, his breath warm and ragged as he moves inside you. “You feel so good,” he whispers, his voice husky, laced with a deep sense of awe. “So perfect.” His words send a shiver down your spine, the intensity of the moment wrapping around you both.

He shifts his angle slightly, his hips pressing deeper, and you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders. The new angle has him hitting just the right spot, each thrust making your toes curl with pleasure. “Eris…” you moan, the sound of his name on your lips seeming to spur him on.

“Right there?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear as his hand trails down to grip your hip, holding you in place as he drives into you with slow, deliberate thrusts. “I want to hear you, baby. Tell me how it feels.”

“It’s so good,” you gasp, your voice trembling with the intensity of it all. “You’re perfect, Eris, just like that.”

His pace increases slightly, still measured but with a growing urgency that matches the heat building between you. Each thrust is powerful, and precise, and sends waves of pleasure rippling through your entire body. You can feel the sweat starting to slick your skin, your breaths coming out in short, desperate gasps as he brings you closer to the edge with every movement.

“Look at me,” he commands softly, his voice gentle yet firm, and when you do, you find his gaze locked on yours, his amber eyes dark with lust and something deeper, something that makes your heart stutter. “I want to see you when you come,” he adds, his voice dropping to a rough whisper, his thumb brushing tenderly across your cheek as his other hand slides between your bodies to find your clit.

The moment his fingers touch you, you’re lost. He circles your clit with slow, deliberate strokes that match the rhythm of his thrusts, his gaze never leaving yours, his lips curling into a knowing smile as he watches your reaction.

“Please…” The word slips from your lips before you can stop it, desperate for more, for everything he’s willing to give. Your hips lift to meet his thrusts, your body arching into his touch as the pressure builds inside you, coiling tighter and tighter until you feel like you’re about to snap.

“Please, what?” Eris’s voice is teasing, but there’s an edge of intensity there, a deep desire to hear you say it, to have you begging for him. “Tell me what you want, baby. I’ll give you anything.”

“Please, I want to come,” you gasp, your voice barely a whisper as the pleasure threatens to overwhelm you. “I need it, Eris, please.”

His eyes darken with satisfaction, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, teasing kiss as he picks up the pace, his fingers moving faster against your clit. “Then come for me,” he whispers against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you.”

That’s all it takes. The combination of his words, his touch, and the deep, steady thrusts of his cock send you spiraling over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your body clenches around him, your back arching off the bed as you cry out his name, the pleasure so intense it’s almost too much to bear.

Eris doesn’t let up, driving you through the waves of your orgasm with steady, unrelenting thrusts, his fingers never leaving your clit until you’re trembling beneath him, completely spent. He watches you the entire time, his gaze heated and possessive, a soft groan escaping his lips as he feels you come undone around him.

As your orgasm begins to subside, he leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, possessive kiss, his hips still moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough and breathless. “So fucking perfect.”

You’re barely able to respond, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, but you manage to whisper his name, your hands gripping his shoulders as he continues to move inside you, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more urgent.

Eris doesn’t hesitate, sensing the way your body melts beneath him, still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm. With a smooth, practiced motion, he flips the two of you over, his hands guiding you to straddle his waist. Your limbs feel like jelly, weak and trembling, but he shushes you softly, his hands firm on your hips.

“It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm as he brushes your hair away from your face. “Just lay on me. I’ve got you. Let me take care of you.”

He pulls you down gently, your chest pressed against his as your head rests on his shoulder. His hands slide up and down your back, grounding you, before they settle on your hips again, holding you steady. You barely have time to catch your breath before he starts moving, his hips thrusting upward with powerful, controlled strokes.

The sensation is overwhelming as he fills you completely, the force of his thrusts sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. You can feel every inch of him, the heat of his skin against yours, the strength of his body beneath you, and the way his cock drives up into you with unrelenting intensity.

“Eris…” you moan, your voice muffled against his neck as your fingers dig into his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he takes control.

“Shh, just feel me,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. His hands tighten on your hips, guiding your movements as he continues to thrust up into you, each stroke hitting deeper, harder. “Let me make you feel good.”

Your body responds instinctively, your hips moving in time with his as he drives into you over and over again. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your gasps and his low groans, the intensity of it all threatening to unravel you once again.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, his pace relentless as he chases your pleasure. His hands roam your body, one sliding up to cradle the back of your head, pressing your face against his neck, while the other grips your waist, pulling you down onto him with every thrust.

“God, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice rough with need. “So tight, so perfect. You’re gonna make me come, baby. Just like that.”

The words send a fresh wave of heat through you, your body clenching around him as you feel yourself spiraling toward another climax. The intensity of his thrusts, the way he holds you so close, the deep, reverent way he whispers your name — it’s all too much.

“Eris, I’m…” you start, but the words dissolve into a moan as he slams up into you with a particularly hard thrust, your vision going white as another orgasm crashes over you, more intense than the last.

“Oh, you giving me another one, sweetheart?” he growls as he feels you tighten around him. “Let me feel you.”

Your body convulses in his arms as you shatter, the pleasure ripping through you with a force that leaves you breathless. Eris’s grip on you tightens, his own release just seconds behind yours as he thrusts up into you one last time, pulling out as he comes with a low, guttural groan, his cum spilling over your ass in hot, erratic bursts.

He holds you there, both of you trembling, your bodies entwined as you come down from the high together. His hands are gentle now, soothing as they trace patterns on your skin, his breath hot and ragged against your ear.

After the intensity of your release subsides, Eris’s touch becomes gentle and soothing. He cradles you in his arms, his fingers brushing tenderly over your back and sides as he presses soft kisses to your forehead.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low and filled with concern. “You did so well, you know that?”

You nod, your body still shivering slightly from the aftershocks, but a soft smile plays on your lips. “I’m okay,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath.

Eris gives you a reassuring smile, his hands moving soothingly up and down your back. “Good,” he murmurs, his tone tender. “I’m here. Just relax, let me take care of you.”

He carefully disentangles himself from you, his movements slow to avoid startling you. As he rises from the bed, he gently helps you shift so that you’re on your stomach, your hips slightly elevated. “Just a second,” he says softly.

Eris heads to a nearby cupboard, opening it to reveal a small, built-in towel warmer. He retrieves a warm, damp towel from inside, the comforting heat emanating from it as he brings it back to you.

He returns to the bed and carefully unfolds the towel, its warmth a welcome sensation. “I’m going to clean you up now, okay?” he asks gently but doesn’t wait for an answer as he begins to dab at your skin. The warmth of the towel is soothing, easing any lingering tension.

His hands are gentle as he tends to you. “You’re doing great,” he murmurs, his voice soft. “Just wanted to make sure you’re all clean and comfortable.”

Once he’s finished, he places the damp towel aside and returns to your side, pulling the comforter over you both. He settles next to you, pulling you close and pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. You snuggle into his embrace, feeling the warmth and safety of his presence. His arms are steady and reassuring around you, and his murmurs of affection make you feel cherished and adored.

You finally find your voice, looking up at him with a tired but content smile. “That was incredible. I didn’t expect to feel so…” So good? So much? So intimate?

Eris grins, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

You snuggle closer, your head resting against his chest. “I feel like I’m floating. In a good way.” You mentally kick yourself — of course, it was in a good way. Who says floating in a bad way?

Eris wraps his arms around you a little tighter. “You deserve to feel this good. Just know I’m always here for you, not just for things like this, for whatever. Whatever you need, (y/n).”

You sink deeper into Eris’s embrace, the warmth of his body seeping into your own. The comforting weight of his arms and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest lull you into a state of serene contentment. The intensity of the earlier moments fades into a gentle afterglow.

As you relax, your thoughts begin to wander, drifting back to the complexities of your life outside this moment. Cassian's name surfaces in your mind, but it's quickly followed by the image of him with Elain. The idea of them together interrupts your peace. It should sting, but somehow, it doesn’t.

Instead, the memory of Cassian and Elain feels distant, almost abstract, overshadowed. You'll deal with it another time.

You shift slightly, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat. The world outside, with its complications and unresolved emotions, feels like it’s receding. In this moment, the only thing that matters is the warmth between you, the sense of being cared for, and the gentle hum of satisfaction that lingers from your shared intimacy.

Eris’s soft breathing and the comforting pressure of his touch anchor you, and you let yourself drift in the quiet aftermath, content that you’ve found a moment of peace and connection that you can hold onto.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taglist <3

@blessthepizzaman @celear @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @girl-math-aint-mathing @halo-hanging @julesvanslutta @lilah-asteria @meeperthejeeper @paleidiot @panther-girl-124 @secretlyhers @starlightazriel @scarsandallaz @uncxmfxrtablex @xxemmarldxx

[factual-fantasy]

23 asks! Thanks a bunch! :}} 🌠

@mimiocto

She does! Her name is Gloria :))

And if my motivation and health stays in my favor.. ya'll will learn a bit more about her and Bonnie soon... 👀👀👀

(Referencing this post)

The secret 9th eeveeloution, ghost type! <XD

@octonauts16

....Whelp, guess I'm canceling my Netflix account! <XD

(Monopoly post in question)

It was mostly a joke, XDD but none the less I'm sure no one would have taken it too much to heart! Its well known that Grim and V have a very strong bond so no one would have been surprised XDD

@candyglumboy

Thank you so much!! :DDD

AAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD I'm glad!! :}}}

(Comic in question)

YOU!!! YOU GET IT!!!! WAHAAG THABK YOU!!! 😭😭💖💖💞

THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDDD💞

I just slap the watermark on the drawing as its own layer and lower the opacity :00 usually putting a back blob cloud behind it at lower opacity if more visibility is needed!

....If that made any sense at all--

@userplaysminecraft

This is amongst the highest compliments my fanart can receive. Thank you 🥺🥺🥺

:DD Thank you so much!! I'm glad you love it!! :}}

@minnesotamedic186

Alas, I do not have a good tablet or stylus.. :((

But that's ok! I think I'm getting better! <:D .. I hope so at least! <:}}

@holly-opal

I haven't really ironed it out yet.. but one thing stays consistent. It sucked.

I wanted to create a situation where Mario and Luigi both did not want to go back to Earth. Sure there are things that would undoubtedly bother them a bit that I couldn't just whisk away. Never seeing another human again, never seeing any animals again.. Never hearing human songs again.. never tasting the food from Earth again..

But what I could do is make their old lives so horrible, that they were both willing to give up what they had for this new life as the "Hero's of Legend."

I pictured Mario and Luigi both being very poor. Just barely making it paycheck to paycheck. No friends, no family. No sentimentals even. Perhaps their childhood home burnt down.. so no family photo albums or old plushies to be attached to..

I couldn't decide what kind of relationship they had with their parents.. but either way, they've passed on. They worked a crappy job as plumbers which they both hated. They lived in a cruddy apartment that was too small for them. Rotten neighbors, disrespectful customers..

I pictured them having this terrible company van or truck that always broke down and stunk of cigarettes thanks to the previous owner. They were drowning in debt and bills. Trynna pay off the van, trynna buy new clothes, trynna by food...

I even imagined some of their bills and debt were medical related. I imagined Luigi being very ill and them being unable to afford food and medicine.. So Mario stole food from his clients. Maybe even robed a store or two. Now they've got "criminal" added to their list of problems.

They hated their apartment. They hated the van, they hated their neighbors, they hated people, they hated the world. They hated their lives. The only thing they had the room in their hearts to love was each other. The only thing that didn't hurt them or make them cry was each other. The only thing that made living in this horrible world worth it, was each other.

Then the mushroom kingdom came along.. "Hero's of Legend?" Magical powers? Kind people who care about us and respect us? No more debt, no more bills, no more van or apartment, no more stealing, just.. adventure. And they get to experience it all with their most favorite person in the world?

Why would they ever want to go back?

@raven-bearden-the-interviewer42

Alas, I do not know of any. :((( But I can imagine that the crew is nerdy enough to make their own shanty! A theme song of sorts. And you can bet that Seafoam would take pride in that song and sing it loudly with the rest of the crew! XD

@neo-metalscottic (100,000 reblogs post in question) (Octo clarification post)

Awe! That's so kind! Thank you!! :DD And I've been very glad to see my condition improve too 😌 though I'm not quite out of the thick of it yet.. :(( I hope I can fully beat it soon! <:))

As for the Great green toad king and company, I have actually never heard of them before! <:0 Though it would be very easy to label them as some far off kingdom and not put much thought into it <XDD Perhaps some of the species found in that kingdom could have become wandering travelers like Wario and Waluigi? Maybe we'd see them that way? :00

Now I know mentioning Birdo was a joke XDD But I do have plans for the Birdo species! :00

I had this idea that Yoshi's used to be smaller, about the same size they are in canon. Back then they acted as these passive.. almost farm like animals..?? In a way?? The toads used them to haul carts and as a form of transportation. Like horses! But eventually the Yoshis discovered "Yoshis island". A fruitful island planted in the middle if a giant river. A large sum of the Yoshis migrated from the forest and began to live there. Eating the super fruits and veggies it produced and slowly transforming into the giant mega Yoshis that are there today.

However, not all the Yoshi's left. A fair amount of them were kept and somehow made their way to the coast near Daisy's Kingdom. After generations and generations of Yoshi's eating red cheep cheeps and living in the water, they transformed and are now called Birdos. In present day Yoshi's and Birdos are extremely closely related, though they look a bit different from each other. And while Yoshi's come in all different colors, most Birdos grow up to be different shades of red, Pink and purple due to their red cheep cheep diet. Just like flamingos! :D

Anyways- on to the Goombas. The Goombas start out as these very poisonous brown mushrooms and are brought to life by Kamek. They form mouths and the poison that they originally had becomes poisonous saliva. So when they bite someone the poison does its job.. Even if who ever they bite is somehow immune to their poison, their bites are still nasty. They're dirty creatures and they really shred you up.. So the chance of natural infection is there none the less-

And WHAAAT?? Illumination whyyyyyyy 😭😭I love Toadsworth you had no right to scrap him--

And wow! That last battle looks crazy! My only question is who's this guy?? <XDD I don't recognize him!

Anywho- thanks again for the ask! Feel free to send more Mario ones, or not, which ever you please! I'd love to read what ever you may send :}}}

8 0 0 0 P A G E S ? ? ?

@pink088

That is the most cursed creature I have ever seen- XDD

I wanna say Louis has the most wins, buuuttttt Seafoam is so much bigger than Louis.. I feel like he would have the ability to overthrow him just by using his own body weight XDD Its hard to say!

(Ask was sent in response to this post)

SKSKKDJH ACTUALLY THO XDDDD

Oh- in order to make these ask posts I take screenshots of the asks, crop them, and then compile them all together. Usually I put them together on Tumblr desktop, so they're all blue.

But recently I've been batting some health problems and have been stuck on the couch all day.. which means that I've been making my ask posts on Tumblr mobile. Which is all black themed for me :00

Aw, thank you! Though I advice eating it with a spoon actually! In order to scoop up the tears of the characters- XDD

@caronaro-flipaclip

:0 Sponchbop! :DD Its hard to feel down with him around!

@beryl-shade

I have written many stories where characters have lost family or friends to death... but as for a character that was in the main story and I actually drew them? ..Not that I can recall! :0

[woncherie]

anon: Heyy your writing list said you write for chainsaw man. I would like to request Kishibe x reader where he falls for a new devil hunter that changed from the private sector to theirs and is new in their team now but has pretty good skills. Sorry if you don’t write for Kishibe! Thank you!!

Female Reader

Requests are open!!

TW: mentions of nsfw, alcohol, blood

Kishibe falling for you

He is a simple man. He loves booze and woman. If you are a woman, he will already start flirting with you, trying to get into your pants.

But he probably doesnt really care about you as a person. He feels indifferent about you. It takes him way more than just being a woman for him to really fall for you.

Even though he keeps flirting with random women, especially younger ones, i dont see him being into younger girls. He needs a woman in his life who he can have a serious conversation, few drinks and cigarettes with him before he fucks them brainless.

Thats why he probably doesnt think too much about you when you join his squad for the first time. You were cute, he cant deny it, but that was it.

He will probably tease you about being much younger than him - which probably just emphasizes how good you actually were. Its not easy to join the first division.

"Seems like you are the next baby i have to train." He teases you, smirking into his cup before taking a sip of his drink. You were both sitting at the bar in a shady restaurant, but none of you cared. You just wanted to have a few drinks before heading home, not knowing that Kishibe would also be there. "Might as well just start calling me master then."

"Thanks. But i'll stick to Kishibe." You answer, not even looking at him. "Im not a baby to train." You say before downing your drink and asking the barkeeper for a refill.

After a few days or even weeks he sees you fighting a devil, and he has to admit that you were a bit of all right. The way you effortlessly killed it? Your body being covered in its blood? Yeah, he was looking at you respectfully.

Somehow you two would become drinking buddies, after missions end you two would always go and grab a few drinks together and talk.

The first time he notices how his heart starts beating a bit faster is when you two were out, drinking again and talking about your lifes before joining the first squad. He liked you. He liked the way you talked, he liked your way of thinking, he liked the way you were moving your body. He really enjoyed your presence. He may be a grumpy grizzled old man, but he still has feelings and emotions. But Kishibe would never admit it that easily. No way, he has to tease you. Its his way of flirting.

You noticed his gaze on you during one of many nights you two shared together at a crappy bar. "Why are you looking at me like that?" You ask, looking up at him while waiting for your glass to get refilled by the barkeeper.

He cant help but smile gently, his cup on his lips, taking another sip of his whiskey before he answers with rolling eyes: "You annoy me. Next time Aki babysits."

"Hey??"

☆☆☆

hello aaaaa <3 im finally done reposting old works so i should have time to do the two requests i got HEHEHE

[shrimplymoray]

Perhaps a Deimos x reader where it begin with a car chase, and ends with a calm moment between them? You can add any spin you want on it, be creative :)

Hiiii!! Thank you for my first Madcom Request!! It genuinely made me happy and i've been cooking it on my head all day lol

Deimos x Reader - Calm After the Storm

It was supposed to be a quick mission. Go in, fuck up the cloning machines with the hacking stuff Deimos does while you made sure his back was covered from those damn L33T Agents but oh boy, were you in for a ride. Literally. "Are the Engineers still on our back, sugar?" Deimos asked, barely glancing at you while you made sure to aim at either heads or tires of the classic AAHW Trucks. "That motherfucker is still on the back. Think we can get the rough route to get some time?" You asked while doing the quickest reload you possibly could. Time is imperative to not have a bullet between both of your heads. "I mean, sure, but ya think ya can take care of aiming at em like that?" The teasing tone of Deimos was always present, even during a fucking chase, but you should be used considering you two get paired often enough for missions. "You almost make me want to shoot you instead" "Ya wouldn't do that, i'm too pretty to die" His raspy laugh was met with the side mirror getting shattered by a bullet. With a rough turn, you try getting a good aim at the driver engineer, managing to miss his head and shoot the passenger seat engineer. 1 down, at least. "One down." This kept on for another ten minutes, with a couple broken glass, one broken mirror, one bullet just missing your arm, and the truck front tires being shot near one of the classic Nevadean Cliffs. You didn't even get back on the HQ, just resting for a while to catch your breath. "Fucking damn, we could've like, get a warning of 'Hey there is a high chance of having Engineers there after Hank went for a random walk and came back with two Grunt heads'" You sighed, while bandaging some small injuries you had from the building raid before. "Yeah, well. Nothin' much to do, right?" Dei gave a small chuckle, lighting his cigarette, and coming near you. "Need help there, sugar?" "Nope, all done. Now gimme your hand" "What? Why?" "Just do it, Deimos." Without further resistance, he did, and you just put something on his hand. After he took a look, it was a small mixtape. "Aw, i didn't knew ye were the romantic type, sugar~" "Shut it. This is just so I don't need to pay the broken mirror..." you took a look back at all the fucked up-ness on the car "... mirrors." "Aham... Just say you like me, it's not that hard." "What if I get that broken mirror and shove it far up your ass?" "Aight, A man can try~" Even though you banter a bit, and maybe amuse Deimos a bit, it's not like you hate each other. Perhaps, in other circumstances, you would be able to talk without... "Hey! It's the Wanted guys! Get them!" Well... that.

I AM SO FUCKING RUSTY ON WRITING, I'M SORRY IF IT IS NOT UP TO MY USUAL STANDARD AAAAA. I never wrote anything substantial for Madcom, so this was certainly new for me, and i need to get a little bit better on my personal characterization, but so far I'M PROUD!!

Hope you Enjoy!

[one-winged-dreams]

Birthday Habit

ship: adri x jacob corbett (my house is your house) source: original content word count: 1211

I MEANT TO FINISH THIS YESTERDAY BUT I GOT TOO DEPRESSED AAAAA happy 48th, Jacob, I love you ;_;

Anyway, I had to throw some sprinkles of personal issues in there ya know

tag list: @dearly-beeloved @adoredbyalatus @kylars-princess @dorothys-wife @the-sleeping-city

@dear-gambler @goldenworldsabound @sunstar-of-the-north @mahitosoulmate @faerie-circle-ships

Jacob wouldn't call himself a smoker, necessarily. Anita had always been the more… HEDONISTIC of the two, and it was she who had turned him onto nicotine.

He only smoked on special occasions, his birthday included.

The morning had been… eventful. So eventful that Adri was currently in the shower.

He'd all but moved all of his bath products into JACOB'S bathroom now.

Jacob mused over this fact as he took a drag, sitting out on a bench in the backyard, he took in the morning air, the balmy heat of summer fast approaching. It was pleasant, though. He'd always enjoyed the summer.

Another drag made another thought cross his mind.

Dave had asked if the U-Haul joke applied to men as well, and he hadn't really had an answer for that. The circumstances were different in so far as they had met BECAUSE Adri had needed a place to stay while he got back on his feet. All of… This. Was unexpected.

He didn't think he minded. It had all been a very pleasant turn of events. They were both still easing into it, but so far it seemed… promising.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't heard the sliding door open.

"I didn't take you as a smoker," Adri's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. The question didn't come off as judgmental, only curious.

Jacob offered a sheepish smile, gesturing with the cigarette.

"Just a guilty pleasure. Only for special occasions." He patted the bench next to him invitingly, and Adri took his cue eagerly.

"That's fair," Adri replied, making his way over, secretly grateful the smoke was blowing in the opposite direction.

"Figured I'd treat myself on my birthday, you know?" Jacob chuckled. "And yes, I send 'em off to recycling. Don't knock any points off my eco-friendly meter, now."

"Well. I can't tell you what to do, but special occasions only sounds fine to me," Adri hummed, leaning into Jacob's side. He was quickly rewarded by a strong, burly arm wrapped around his shoulders. Pausing for a minute, a shy smile found its way to his face. "And… not a little attractive, maybe?"

Jacob arched an eyebrow at this, a charming smirk crossing his features.

"Oh? Is my little habit a turn-on, then? I'll keep that in mind."

Adri giggled in response.

"Like I said, OCASSIONALLY, maybe?"

Laughing, Jacob gave Adri's shoulder a shake, pulling him into his side.

"Ahhh, I'm kidding, bunny. Just today since it's my birthday," he teased. Finished, he extinguished the cigarette into the ashtray he had brought out with him, setting it to the side and sitting back to take in the sight of all the flowers and plants lining the fence.

"So… any plans for today?" Adri broke the silence after a moment.

Jacob made a thoughtful expression before replying.

"Nothing much. Lucy and Anita are probably gonna give me a call, but… I think I'd like to do something low-key with this cutie right here," he chuckled, rubbing up and down Adri's arm. "Maybe dinner later and hopefully some more of whatever we got up to this morning."

Adri blushed, chuckling shyly.

"Uhm. Definitely some of that later, I promise," he said, flustered, but unable to keep a smile off of his face. "I had something in mind, but if you'd rather we just stay at home, that's fine too."

"Oh?" Jacob seemed intrigued. "You didn't have to go and think of anything, bunny. But if you've got something in mind, by all means."

Adri was quiet for a moment, and for a few beats, Jacob seemed concerned.

"Uhm. There's this cafe that's… really special to me. I told you I don't really… enjoy birthdays all that much, but… I want to enjoy yours with you. So…" Adri trailed off.

"Aw, sweetheart." Jacob's expression softened. "You told me. If birthdays freak you out then we can just-"

Adri shook his head, a faint blush tinging his cheeks.

"N-No! No, really. I want to. This cafe was REALLY special to me once and I…" He took a deep breath. "I want to go back. With someone special. And since it's your birthday…"

"Ahhhh, I see," Jacob chuckled good-naturedly. "Well I'm honored, sweetheart. If this place is so special to you, the fact that you want to share it with me just warms my heart."

Adri nodded, looking down at the ground and unable to realize he was being pulled into a hug until he was practically in Jacob's lap. Stammering wordlessly, he looked up at Jacob with a flushed and bewildered expression as Jacob flashed him another one of those charming grins.

"I'm proud of you for taking this step forward, bunny. We'll get you settled back into this whole socializing thing yet. But for now, your openness is the best birthday present I could ask for," Jacob hummed affectionately before smirking playfully. "On top of being your 'special someone,' that is."

The direct quote of Adri's unintentional show of how much Jacob really meant to him made his face burn. He could only imagine how darkly he was blushing based on the expression on Jacob's face.

At Adri's lack of verbal response, Jacob laughed, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

"Alright, alright. Enough embarrassing you, what do you say we get the day started?" He released Adri from his lap, standing up and offering his hand.

Taking it, Adri stood and smiled shyly.

"Well if we're going out… Did you have any other ideas?"

Jacob chuckled again, seemingly appraising Adri for a moment.

"I guess you could say that. Hey, in all my ignorance of alternative subcultures, bear with an old man for a second?"

That was a curious request. Adri's head tilted off to the side, contemplating where this was going.

"Uhm, of course."

Jacob paused, blatantly taking in Adri's appearance yet again, but to what end remained to be seen.

"Keeping the weather in mind, because I know how hard it is for you out in this heat what with your meds on top of all that black," Jacob started with a chuckle before his gaze softened. "Wear your favorite outfit for me?"

That was… a direction.

"Any… reason?" Adri asked curiously. It wasn't a PARTICULARLY odd request. "Even if it involves platforms?"

Jacob outright laughed at that.

"Yes, even if it involves platforms. Though, you're still hopelessly shorter than me, bunny," he commented playfully, making Adri blush before he continued. "But no, seriously. I want to see how you like to express yourself. Go all out for me, not just shorts and band shirts this time."

The thoughtfulness of the request wasn't surprising. But it still caught Adri off guard all the same.

"Are you sure…?" he questioned cautiously. "I can put together my favorite summer fit if you really want, but…"

"How about this," Jacob hummed, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "What if I told you… that there was a record shop I think you'd like? Might as well go do something fun on my birthday, right? Who knows, maybe I'll score a good album today."

This caught Adri's attention, making him blink a few times in consideration.

"That… sounds fun. What's it called? Maybe I've been there before."

"It's S-"

[merakiui]

I am so non-confrontational and timid when it comes to asking neighbors not to do things that Inconvenience Me (i.e smoking cigarettes in their bathroom that the smell ends up coming into my bathroom) Even when I confront them I’m like “sorry, hi, sorry, um, can you not do this, if it’s alright with you?” Nearly every TWST boy is a “fuck it let’s fight” guy that I just want them to do all my confronting for me 😫 - Amethyst Anon

Aaaaa I completely sympathize with you, Amethyst!!! It’s surprising every time I see how ready the twst cast are to get into confrontations when I go out of my way to avoid such a thing in my daily life. ;;; where is Floyd when I need him to pose as my boyfriend so that I can show my persistent coworker I’m not interested in pursuing a relationship beyond work!!! ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡ and I can relate to neighbors who do things that will be inconveniences. It’s a shared struggle, but let’s do our best in any confrontations we may face!!! ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ although it would be so nice to have the twst characters do the confrontations for us hehe!!! :D

[mushibashiraas]

i rlly need to change my theme. it's too sunny for this man and tokyorev; i dont write for twst as much anyway. aaa anyway,,,,,,,

@softbajis gave me ideas for another rindou headcanon post. him being tokyorev's 2nd best bf and all. aaaa writing this while listening to this playlist (on musi but for yall it's youtube 💕). it was her birthday the other day, anyway. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY HALLE BERRY!! ilyyy! sorry it's late! aaaaa 🥺

gender neutral. 18+: a little nudity, nothing sexual though. tokyo revengers spoilers?? maybe? bonten!haitani rindou. (i, personally, have had nothing but bonten rin brainrot on the mind.) though, on occasion, this will be specifically tailored to @softbajis 's tastes.

— rindou and (name) going on a shopping spree for new furniture for their new place.

— it was weird moving out from ran's place and several nights rindou couldn't sleep. even though he woke up to his partner laying peaceful beside him, the apartment still felt empty without his brother sleeping in the next room over.

— so after the 5th night of (name) waking up at three in the morning to rindou lounging on the balcony, a cigarette in hand, rindou took a day off and the two went shopping for little household items to make their small, one bedroom apartment seem more like home.

— they spend the whole day going from store to store. rindou follows behind his lover shyly smiling down at her as they happily coo over and daydream about where to place a decoration or a light fixture.

— definitely carries the bags. he isn't the tallest but he is definitely one of the strongest in (name)'s life. he enjoys it too! gives him a chance to flex his strength; carrying their shopping bags feeds his ego and gives him a sense of pride.

— knowing their favorite color is purple, rindou finds a pair of cute key hooks that pop open revealing white kitten/ inside when a key is hung from the bottom of the cats' boxes.

— rindou knows how much his roommate and lover likes their games. while the two were out, he sneaks off to an electronic store and orders a full, state of the art gaming set-up complete with a purple pair of cat-ear headphones and a purple gaming microphone.

— may have asked his brother to come over one day when mikey sent everyone home early to help set everything up while (name) was out at work. definitely shooed him out the door, though, once they were done. this was his surprise to (name), after all!! he wanted to see their face when he proudly lied and said it was all him!

— probably also got those tiktok room string lights but in purple for (name)'s and his home study. for their room his got the same lights but in white.

— both are usually pretty good when it comes to going to bed on time. but sometimes, rindou would stay up late mixing music one headphone on while (name) sits beside him on their computer farming a domain or playing through a quest.

— when they have a free moment/a free hand, they definitely, slowly entwine their fingers together.

— occasionally distracts (name) when their favorite character appears or when they're wishing on a character banner: "one kiss for every wish." gets a little jealous when they talk about how pretty their favorite characters are, hence the kisses, gentle touches, and affectionate nicknames (i.e. princess, my sweet girl, baby girl, doll, my queen, etc.) whenever a certain character appears on the screen.

— he still adores them though and loves to see them happy and smiling. bonten is well-known, wealthy organization, after all, and gladly replenishes (name)'s crystal top-up for them. also got into their favorite games and will co-op with them and give them assistance and advice with certain domains or bosses or character builds.

— one of the most patient men in tokyo, regardless of what other rival gangs and coworkers say. and that definitely shows when the the couple spend quality time relaxing in (name)'s favorite region simply exploring together after a long day.

— lets (name) sit on his lap while they play and rewarding and teasing them with surprises kisses and nose bumps.

— rindou isn't too big into skincare and haircare, unlike his brother ran. but he does the bare minimum, at least. will settle in together in the tub or shower and wash each other's backs and hair massaging their scalps and shoulders for each other. after they're all clean, (name) will do rindou's skincare routine.

— the soft, admiring, loving look rindou gets in his eyes as (name) rubs the moisturizer into his face and across the bridge of his nose. he cannot resist pecking their face with kisses. loves to hear his giggles as he does so.

— lots of "i love you, princess" and "how did i get so lucky?" will immediately get shut down, though, the second he says "i don't deserve you."

— once their skincare routines are done, he snuggles up to (name) pulling them close to his chest. loves it when (name) traces the huge, matching tattoo he got with his brother. definitely groans and hums as their fingers brush against his collarbone and his ribcage.

— lots of kisses!!!

— definitely gets a good night's rest for the first time since he moved in with them.

[unsleepingtales]

Junior Year Episode Three!! Reactions!

That’s really legible too lol

Speaking of strange curdled feelings!

Woo sklonda passed the bar!

As a fellow folk fair kid I appreciate the folk fair rep thank you Brennan

Look at the beautiful dome art!

The new riz art is So Good guys

Ally’s outfit is great

He put so much work into the school mechanics of this

The MCAT

Astral state, CUS Dabus, BCU! BCU is the reach/goal it seems

Oooh college credit for the quests!

Society of shadows

Lord Salazar edge’s college of lone adventurers 😭

LYDIAAAA that’s so sweet oh my god

Sandra Lynnnnnnn

What the fuck is this song oh my god

Every day I learn more and more about how much Riz Gukgak is me and I am him. This was exactly how I behaved about college.

Cloaca! Okay!

Digby and Wilma! They/them!

Can I run? From you?

I’m so glad it seems we get to see more of the thistlesprings this season!

It’s CHLOE

The throwback!! The throat and the rectum are connected by a series of tubes!

You’re fucking sharp, you’re sharp as fuck, stop

It looks like he has a bad diet. Emily. 😭

Cathilda’s in Leviathan!

Is that all they ever serve for lunch

Fig’s luck is wild

Aww they’re juniors guys

YES THE MINOTAUR’S LAST NAME IS PHAEDRA I love it I love her already

Grix! Ok.

His WIFE?????? Balthazar had a WIFE??

Awww a Scottish highland minotaur <3

What purpose does a decoy cloaca serve

What do you GET babe I spent six years on student government what you get is an ulcer

Kipperlilly Copperkettle what is your Deal

Murph is so stressed

KRISTEN

Kristennnnn

No I so get it that specific energy drives me up the wall. I get being aggro about it.

Ohhhh this motherfucker wrote that horrible song

The fun thing about Kipperlilly is that she actually used to be one of Brennan’s pcs in an old campaign, you can see art of her by ND Stevenson!

That’s a really fun ability

The ghost steaks!!

Badidas!

What are you doing!

TERPSICHORE THE MUSE OF DANCE BRENNAN YOUR MIND!!

Is seacaster manor the new party house.

Ey??

The shenanigans are backkk

Fabian WHAT

God I missed them so much

Jace is so pretty

That’s how high school works!!

He went out of his wayyy to create the exact opposite of Aguefort

Creepy!

Hey what?

It is very much the same vibe as the new principal coming in in Sex Education and enforcing rules and making them walk single file

Return of German Shepard mode!

WANDA CHILDA

When love is in the air… there should be a tiny emergency

Heeeeey girlieeeeee

Kristen you KNOW she’s in the jacket how does that fool you

Ooh I forgot that was Porter’s voice :)

Make it make sense 💀

I am also going into a worry.

Ooh these descriptions are making me miss dance classes

I miss music and dance classes a lot

This energy is SO accurate

Arcane trickster riz!!!!!

Oh ok what does that mean

Aww I love the Jawbone and Riz moment

Those are all of the emotions he’s ever had!

Ally looks like they’re hearing the Kristen music in their head

Kipperlilly better watch her back yeesh

Bucky’s going to Aguefort!!!!!

His art is so cute aww

I’m so glad we get to see one of Kristen’s brothers

Ooh the Applebees are also a they/them unit. Ok

Kristen. Girlie. What’s up?

That is not it

Cassandra what does that mean??? Are you okay??

Kristen yeah!!

The hug is so sweet

Ally WHAT

That’s what yououou thiiiiink and I pirouette. Byeee girlieeeee

Why is that something she does now

I love all the Applebees puns

Aaaaa school supplies are expensive

Siobhan making Brennan feel real emotions at the table

I’ll just text Aelwyn at lunch. My HEART

What is thisssss

What smell would be enticing to emo kids? Cigarettes and peach schnapps??? I can’t deal with this

She’s not even staying for class?!?!

Of course the agent of the council of chosen is a fucking eagle

Girl just drop the illusion. Just be Fig. Just claim you were doing some bard shit.

Oh okay OR DONT

What the fuck is going on! I am unnerved!

GIRL WHAT

Just go to fucking class!!!!!!!!

Please fail that stealth

All of the teacher’s last names are so on the nose

Kristen I need you to talk to Cassandra. I need for you to just have a chat with your god please. They need you.

Kristen trying to figure out how to refer to her ex OUCH

I really hope this goes well

Cassandra’s art is SO pretty

NO

NO SHE FUCKING DIDN’T BRING KALINA BACK

Next week looks fucking nuts I’m so excited and nervous about Kalina being back

[aestherin]

RIIIIII IM BACKKKKK HOW HAS YOUR DAY BEEN GOING? ANYONE I NEED TO BEAT UP FOR YOU?

Anyways you know what I finally got my new piano aaaaaaaaaaaaa i swear im so excited bc im finally getting to learn piano after years of wanting to aaaaa

And i keep rewatching that one scene in kny s4 ep5 yk, the sun halo dance part or whatever its called because its just so good-

Also which song is ur favorite rn? Because i was addicted to afterglow till yesterday but then i sort of discovered- rediscovered E.T. by Katy Perry and man am i in love with it-

Take care of urself ri!

-starlight/ Skylia

HELLOO IM BACKKK TOOO!! PLS BEAT UP MY FINALS AND DEADLINES FOR ME 🥰 /hj

omg congrats with the piano!! i hope u enjoy playing it hihi 🫶

and shvxvs demon slayer i haven't been able to keep up yet bc school but once finals week ends (finals is next week lmaoo) u bet im gonna keep up with s4 asap!!

my fav song rn is still k. by cigarettes after sex 🤧 for songs in my own language tho, ikaw lang by nobita has been on repeat for days HAHAHA

i hope you're doing well and take care too!! 💓

[twirlyeyebrows]

hi omg i never knew you took requests!! i’m so glad i saw your post, i love your writing :)

maybe something with zosan x reader? like, them playfully fighting over y/n while both in bed with the reader? if that’s against your rules, maybe just something with zoro where the reader gives him a massage after he trains. thank you!!

tysm for your request, this was so fun to write :) <3 (also it's not against my guidelines at all, don't worry!!) thank you for the compliment on my writing aaaaa <33 :,)

Sleepily Smitten (Zoro X Sanji X Reader)

✶ I'm not polyamorous myself, so if this fic is in anyway upsetting to anyone, please let me know and i can change/remove it :) ✶

♡ Content Warnings: N/A

♡ Gender Non-Specific Reader!

♡ Word Count: 1,552

The crew getting separated had been nothing less than a huge shock to you all. Being ambushed by a Warlord out of nowhere was something that none of you had expected.

Even more shocking than that though, was how everyone seemed to cling onto each other way more after you had all reunited.

For example, everyone knew that Zoro and Sanji always had a thing for each other. They had never made it clear but they didn’t need to. It was so apparent that it went unspoken. But now that they had been away from each other for two years and had finally gotten to see their faces once again, they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other… or you.

It had been a bit of a surprise at the beginning. You never expected for both the swordsman and the cook to fall for you. You weren’t complaining though, you weren’t going to lie and say that you didn’t secretly have feelings for both of them at the same time. You just never considered you’d get lucky enough to win the pair over.

The whole crew was on the ship relaxing from the huge battle you’d won the day prior. Everyone concluded that you all deserved some rest, especially after how demanding everything had been lately.

When you imagined “rest”, it hadn’t included Zoro and Sanji both being in bed with you, but you were happy to accept your fate nonetheless.

At this moment, you were huddled between both men. Zoro’s arms were around your stomach, holding you close as he breathed into your neck, dozing off. Sanji was within your delicate grasp, mostly asleep but always keeping an eye out in case something were to happen. You were living the best of both worlds, being spooned by one man you loved and spooning the other. You couldn’t comprehend how you managed to get so lucky.

Your heart swelled as your arms lifted softly to Sanji’s breathing pattern. You began to rub tiny circles into his stomach with your finger. You heard his breath hitch softly then return to normal with a small hum. You leaned into his neck and peppered it with graceful kisses. You elicited a few more sounds of joy out of the man.

His sunny locks shifted against the pillow as he turned his head to look at you. His bangs flopped onto the pillow and you could see both of his eyes (and his curly eyebrows which you love so much), a rare sight to see.

“(Y/n),” He drew out, sleepily. “If you keep kissing me like that, I’m going to have to steal you away from the moss brain completely.” He whispered. You giggled and proceeded to do exactly that.

You softly snagged a warm kiss from his lips, sighing in relaxation as you tasted the stale cigarette flavor on his breath.

All of the sudden, you felt the man behind you’s arms squeeze tightly around your torso. Your smile grew wider as you heard a groan escape Zoro’s mouth.

“Like I’d let you do that, Curly.” He said, poking his head up from behind you.

Sanji’s serene smile turned smug as he gazed up at the swordsman.

“Oh yeah? Just try it, bastard. I won't allow it.” Sanji spat back at Zoro playfully as he grabbed a hold of your arm and secured it around himself.

You felt yourself blushing as the two men fought over you. You never wanted to leave this spot. Nothing could have possibly felt more comforting than being sandwiched between the two people you were fond of most.

“You know what? I might have to take you up on that.” Zoro said as he hoisted himself up in the bed. You thought it was funny how the way he laid on his side resembled a model’s pose. He was more than handsome enough to be one if he wanted to.

Sanji wriggled out of your grasp with an annoyed sigh and sat up on his knees atop the soft sheets.

He pointed at Zoro with overflowing sass.

“There’s nothing you could do to take (Y/n) away from me.” He said as he put a hand in your hair and ruffled it. Your eyes shut on instinct as you melted into the feeling of his palm against your scalp.

You then felt Zoro’s rough touch against the crook of your back. You melted further into a puddle of affection. His hand glided up and down against your spine in the delectable way he tended to.

Zoro didn’t say anything in response, he just stared at Sanji with a glare that he knew would work against him. Even though the boys fought nonstop, they were still head over heels for each other and Zoro knew how to use it to his advantage.

The swordsman hit Sanji with a complacent gaze through his eyelashes. Sanji shifted around in the spot he was sitting in as his grip on your hair tightened ever so slightly. You laughed at how Sanji was putty in Zoro’s hands.

“Fuck you.” The chef said as he let out a saccharine snicker.

He shuffled his fingers through your hair one last time and got back down on top of the blanket next to you. He caught your gaze and didn’t let it go. He loved watching your eyelashes flutter and your mouth turn up in joy when he was this close to you. He could stare at you forever if you gave him the opportunity.

Zoro let out a defeated sigh with a light chuckle at the end. He sounded too tired to argue.

It wasn’t often that you were able to catch a glimpse of Zoro fully relaxed. It was one of your favorite things to witness. You turned away from Sanji and up at him, getting lost in his one functional eye.

He looked back at you with a look that showed all the care he felt for you. You could almost feel your heart pop out of your chest. You smiled and patted the empty spot next to you, hoping that he’d join you and the other man in the cuddle.

He got the memo and didn’t hesitate to settle down next to you. He grabbed your chin cautiously as if you were made of glass. He turned your head towards him and placed a chaste kiss on your lips.

Sanji whined as he flung his arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

“Don’t be selfish, garden head.” He said in a huff in the swordsman’s direction.

“Stop being so clingy you damn love-cook.” He growled back.

Both of them bickered back and forth but their faces were bright red and their eyes were covered in a glassy haze. Something about the whole situation made you think that maybe for some reason they weren’t actually mad at each other.

“Guys, stop.” You said through broken laughter. “We’re supposed to be relaxing, aren’t we? Can’t we just lay down for once?” You said, still giggling through your words.

Of course you didn’t mind them arguing over you, it was enough to make anyone feel special and desired, but more than anything you just wanted to feel them calmly next to you.

Sanji exhaled and Zoro let out a small grunt, clearly thinking they both had unfinished business. Despite this, both of them softened when hearing your request.

In an instant, Zoro lifted you on top of him and began attacking your face with kisses, causing you to laugh loudly and try to shoo him away lightheartedly.

Sanji wasted no time filling in the gap that you left in the bed, moving so close to Zoro that he was pressed against his side. Sanji looked at Zoro with a sly expression and began kissing him the same way Zoro was to you.

Zoro tried to act aloof but both you and the cook could tell that it affected him. He could try all he wanted, but he couldn’t hide his affection from you two. He relaxed his grip on you and faced Sanji, catching the smaller man off guard by kissing him on the lips.

You fell onto Zoro’s chest in utter exhaustion and felt your eyes grow heavy. You had been worn out from this entire adventure and now you just wanted to sleep with the comfort of your two favorite people in the world.

Both men looked at you with an absolutely smitten look. They couldn’t help but think “How cute..” when they saw you like this.

The men looked at each other with looks of surrender, deciding to save this battle for another day. What everyone wanted right now was to get a good rest for once.

Zoro swaddled you in his arms, holding you in a bear hug as you laid on top of him. Sanji found one of his arms caressing your back and the other falling around the swordsman who was nearly fast asleep.

You and Sanji let out one final sleepy chuckle as you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in the sounds of both of their breathing and the swordsman’s heartbeat.

All three of you sheltered smiles in your sleep as the feeling of being together solaced each one of you to sweet dreams.

[cognitosclowns]

how do u think these characters smell (i think u mentioned andres once but i may be wrong but we all know he would reek u-u) i think the only people who you'd want to be in sniffing distance of is like brett n gigi. MAYBE myc but idk. (sry if this is???? too weird??)

EEE YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE SUPER SPECIFIC HC'S <333

ALL SFW BELOW!! Tw for drugs, smoking.

REAGAN

she. does not shower as often as she’d like to. In the grand scheme of things she’d rather skip a shower than lose her groove with whatever she’s working on

she also HATES perfume and cologne and just. strong smells in general. that artificial smell makes her stomach turn.

the only exception to that is her hand lotion - her hands get dry and crack a bunch during the winter, so she keeps it on her desk. It’s this super mild charcoal smell!!

if you,, happened to,,,,,, hold her hand,,, or use her pen,,, maybe the smell would rub of on your hands..... aaaaa <3333

Mostly I imagine her smelling like sweat, plastic and gasoline? Like a super faint smell of oil from all the hands-on machinery work she does!!

ANDRE

He coats himself in perfume (from Gigi’s office, ofc, because he doesn’t actually have any perfume) to try and disguise the smell of Weed and other assorted Substances. It doesn't work msndmsn

like sure everyone KNOWS he’s high all the time but. he still feels kinda iffy about it. He hates the idea of them thinking he’s incompetent bc he’s high.

THIS. IS A DOUBLE EDGED SWORD THOUGH. because even though the perfume masks the smell, it just means that everyone knows that the Stronger The Perfume Smell, The More High He is.

oh well, he tried.

BRETT

HIS SUITS SMELL SO STRONGLY OF AXE. He canonically soaks himself with axe so like. Dear God I hope you like the smell bc it may sear your nostrils off.

This also means that even when he ISNT wearing AXE he. smells like AXE. you’re pretty sure the first three layers of his skin is AXE. is you squeezed him hard enough he’d start leaking AXE Body Spray.

That actually goes for,, everything. Most of his products have that Nondescript Masculine Sport Scent (tm) so he kinda smells like a highschool locker room?? Haircare, lipbalm, etc.

Like definitely not,, unpleasent,, but overpowering.

GIGI

AAA <333 she has so many pretty perfumes and lotions and just. God she always smell so nice. 

SHE ESPECIALLY LIKES SMELLING SWEET. Not only bc it’s always nice to be around smb who smells like Red-velvet Cake, and she knows the value of Charisma in a job like hers,,, but,,, 

the smell of baked goods reminds her so much of her mum and sometimes she just needs that extra push to feel confidence enough to face the day.

alternatively super flowery scents?? Idk why Rosewater was the first thing that came to mind but,, <333 yeah 

AA I CAN ALSO SEE HER BEING INTO DUSTING POWDERS?? like those lovely lavender powders?

MYC

OH like if you dug a heavy smoker out of a terrarium

like that super dense cigarette smell that clings to him (we see him smoke and I feel like it’s a pretty consistent habit for him?)

PLUS the earthy smell of Shroom. He may be a Special Kind of Shroom but he is Shroom nonetheless.

There’s,,,, also smth else there that can’t actually be picked up by human nostrils.

You can’t smell it, but you can definitely taste it?? there’s like this faint sour taste on the tip of your tongue whenever you get close to him?? Kinda like if you eat smth and wait a little while and. your tongue still has that tingly sour aftertaste?

Like it isn’t strictly unpleasant, you usually don’t notice it’s there, but it’s still odd??

JR

he has a bottle of Super Expensive Cologne on his dresser at home, but he rarely ever uses it - bad sinuses, he’ll be sneezing all week. It’s mostly just a showpiece

HE USES SO MUCH LOTION <33 he likes keeping his skin soft - he has this specific Peppermint Lotion?? 

OVERALL?? this vv minty, fresh smell w/ a bit of Smoke!! He tries not to smoke too much bc he already has enough problems to deal with but. Also Cigars help calm him down, sue him.

GLENN

THIS SLIGHTLY SALTY-FISHY SMELL BUT NOT UNPLEASENT?? Like when you sit on the beach and smell the breeze. He seems to be a super self-conscious person so I can definitely see him going out of the way to smell fine?

I don’t feel like he’s the type for cologne? He probably sees it as too,, Fancy for his liking. he might have something for special occasions but overall??? nah

ALPHA-BETA

OH this is absolutely courtesy of @mrsbretthand​ but PENNIES.

JUST STRAIGHT UP PENNIES <333 that fantastic coppery smell. Especially since,, he’s gotten pretty roughed up so most of his machinery is exposed?? <333

also idk if this is gonna make sense but. If you’ve ever stuck your head in a computer? Where it’s that super dusty smell but also kinda nice? YEA HINTS OF THAT.

TYSM FOR THE ASK!!! this was just a little ditty, lmk if you wanted smth more precise!!

[latenightsimping]

Sewn with love

Summary: Your boyfriend can’t sew, but luckily you’re pretty good with a needle and thread. And he seems to collect patches for his jacket at an alarming rate. You don’t mind it though, and he loves to watch you as you work. 

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Word count: 1,165 

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, mentions of marriage, mentions of children, soft, established relationship, drug use, femme pronouns/honorifics, set before s4, spoiler free

AN: aaaaa we’re really in for it now fellas; I’m writing small bits and pieces for him because I got the brainrot. I should be working on and posting my other fics, but I couldn’t sleep and had this image in my head that I couldn’t get out. It’s my first time writing for him, so I hope I got the characterisation down! Just cannot get this man outta my head istg

The warmth of Eddie’s trailer was comfortable in the cold winter night, snow gently pattering the glass of the window behind you as you lounged on Eddie’s bed. You’d shifted a few pillows behind your back, covering your legs with his blanket to make a nest that was just what you needed to keep away the chill. Your nimble fingers carefully guided the sewing needle through your project; a Motörhead patch that your boyfriend had acquired and had asked you with pleading eyes to sew onto his jacket. “I ain’t got the talent like you do,” he’d said softly, big doe eyes staring down at you as his arms wrapped around your waist gently squeezed. “They always look so good when you do it.”

You looked up to watch him playing his guitar, nimble fingers plucking out the tune that you vaguely recognised as a Judas Priest song. Back against the headboard and a joint hung lazily from his lips, his eyes focused on the movements of his other hand that were dancing on the frets with the skilled precision of someone who’d been playing for a long time. You loved him when he was like this. Fully relaxed, in his element as he surrounded himself in things that he truly cared for in life. Metal, weed, and you. Shoulders no longer hunched, eyes darting around as he looked for any incoming threats from those who would throw taunts at him in the school halls. There, he was ‘that freak Munson.’ In the safety of his home, where he could do whatever he wanted without shame, he was just Eddie. That kind, caring boy that you’d fell for in middle school.

You were fully aware of how much trust he placed in you, letting you make moderations to his jacket. This thing was his pride and joy, and anybody else touching it would probably get their arms ripped clean out of their sockets. Occasionally he’d even let you wear it, the leather jacket that was always underneath it slipping over your shoulders if you got cold. It always smelled like him, and you found yourself taking slightly deeper breaths whenever you worked on it. It smelled of cigarettes and weed, mingled with the detergent he used and his cologne. It was a scent that was undeniably Eddie’s, and one you were shamelessly addicted to.

His eyes darted up to you, a soft smile gracing his lips as he stopped playing to take a drag from the blunt and flick the ash into the ashtray by his bedside. “I ever tell you how good you look doing that?”

You gave him a puzzled expression, eyebrow raised as you considered his question. “It’s just a bit of sewing, Eddie.”

“Nah, I mean you look all homely and shit. Y’know, like those housewives you see on TV.” The tone of his voice was playful, but you could see the glint in his eye that told you he was being serious about it.

You chuckled a little as you looked back down at his jacket, making more stitches as you spoke. “I don’t think many husbands ask their wives to put patches on their battle jackets. Think it’s more of a button back on a shirt kind of deal.”

You heard him pull the guitar strap off his shoulder, playing it gently down beside his bed as he scooted over to sit beside you. An arm came around your shoulder, and you rested your head onto him on instinct. “That’s why you’d make the best wife ever.”

You quirked an eyebrow as you looked up at him, keenly aware of how close his lips were to your own. “You asking me to marry you, Munson? We’re not even out of high school yet. Besides, I’m not exactly the best cook. Housewife isn’t exactly in my wheelhouse.”

He grinned as he pressed a kiss to your lips, before moving his head away to take another deep drag of his joint. “Who said you couldn’t cook?” he asked with an exhale of smoke. “You make a mean grilled cheese.”

You giggled as you gingerly placed the jacket to one side, turning to cuddle into him with a leg draped over his own and a hand on his chest. You could feel him trace absent-minded patterns on your shoulder, and you relaxed as you let your mind imagine. Eddie wasn’t the type for a corporate job, but to be honest, you didn’t care what he did as long as he came home to you every night. Maybe you’d be able to scrape by and get an apartment together. Maybe have some kids when you’re ready, or just get a couple of dogs and be happy with just the two of you. Or maybe you’d get an RV, travelling across the country to see your favourite bands and picking up temp jobs, with settling down in one area just a passing thought. Houses and trailers were just that; somewhere to live. Eddie was, and always would be your home. The smell of his cologne, and the citrus scent of his shampoo. The way he would always touch you no matter where you were, either arm protectively over your shoulder as you walked the school halls or his hand on your thigh as he drove. As long as he was still the same caring, loving, affectionate guy that you’d always been able to rely on, location didn’t matter.

“Don’t expect me to be wearing a frilly apron or baking you pies, but I think I could settle with being Mrs. Munson one day,” you said softly, looking up at him and being met with a beaming grin that crinkled the corner of his eyes.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he murmured, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss before resting his forehead on your own.

You let the silence surround you in a comfortable haze, enjoying the comfort of him holding you, hearing nothing but the weather outside attempting to make it’s way into your blissful haven. For a few long moments you stayed like this, before kissing him once more and shifting around to lean your back on his chest as you picked up the jacket and continued with your sewing. “But if we do get married, you’re going to learn how to sew. God knows how many more patches you’re going to collect on this thing.”

You heard his laugh exhaled through his nose, chest rumbling as he nuzzled the crown of your head. “Can’t promise anything, babe.”

You rolled your eyes, but you secretly never wanted him to learn. You’d happily keep sewing on patches until your fingers bled, just for that proud beam that lit up his whole face whenever you showed him the final product. That small burst of happiness whenever you looked at him, knowing that his clothes were lovingly stitched by your hand whenever he needed repairs or additions.

As much as you playfully complained, you hoped he never stopped buying band patches.

[krabmeat]

hhhhhellllooooo aaaagggaiiinnnnnn, thheeeeee ffffficcccc wwwwasssss vvverrryy nnnicceeee tooo rrrreeeeaaadddd!! ccccccoooouulllddddd youuuuu wwwwrrrrittteeeeee aaaaa puffffyyyyy x sbbbiiii rrreeeadddeerrrr whhheeeerrrreeeee ttthhheeeeyyyy wwwweeerrreee neeeegggleeeccccttteeeddd annndddd ssssaaaawwww pppufffy aaassss thhheeeirrrr ppppaaarrrrennnttttalll fffiggurrreee iiinnsstttteeeeadddd (cccaaannn thhiisss beeee iinnn tttheeee uuunnniiveerrrsseeee whhherrreee puffffy, ddrreeeammm, ssschlllaattt annnddd tuubbbooo aaarrreee knnoowwnn aassss tttthheeee hooornnns ffffammmilllyyyyy? aaallsssooo!! alllssoooo!!! cccaaann ttheeee rrreeeaddderrrr bbbeeee aaa cccrooowwwww hhhyyybbbriiiiddddddd?) tthhisss isss kkkinnddaaaa lllikeeee aaaa emmmeeerrrggeeencccyyy rrreeequeeessstt ccausseee myyyy ffffammilyyyy haasss beeen iggnorrringgg meee foooorrr aaaawhileeee nooowwww :(( - beeeee aaannnoooonnnn

𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜

𝙿𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚢 𝚡 𝚗𝚎𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍!𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚍!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌)

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜: Puffy, (next bunch are only mentioned) Tommy, Wilbur, Technoblade, Philza, Tubbo, Schlatt, Dream

𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜: they/them

𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: neglect, mentions of death, mentions of smoking, repetitive words (right after the page break)

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎:

Bee!! im so happy you enjoyed the other request bud!! i hope this one lives up to your expectations!

im so sorry your family has been ignoring you though, dude :[[ they dont deserve you, and trust me! id be more than happy to be your new "horn family" because you deserve so much better

mmmm anyways,

ENJOY!!

---------------------------------

My name is signed in this book so many different times. It feels like every floorboard and every room in this building knows me like we’re old friends. The same format over and over in the small sign up booklet:

“Y/n L/n- issues to discuss, I’ve been feeling neglected and need help. Please.

Y/n L/n- more problems from the first meeting discussion we had.

Y/n L/n- I feel lonely. Too lonely.

Y/n L/n- they keep on forgetting me, I don’t know what to do.

Y/n L/n- more has happened. Are they forgetting me or ignoring me? Help.

Y/n L/n- they’re drifting away, I don’t know what to do.

Y/n L/n- I miss them.

Y/n L/n- I miss them.

Y/n L/n- I miss them.

Y/n L/n- I miss them.

Y/n L/n- I miss you. 

Y/n L/n- I miss you. 

Y/n L/n- I miss you. 

Y/n L/n- I miss you. 

Y/n L/n- I miss you.”

Puffy is the only one I can turn to at this point. My real family has just...dispersed. They’re all too busy, or y'know- dead. Tommy’s been going off on his own with his hotel. He usually only visits me if he needs to “borrow” money or materials, but lately he’s just been stealing it. Techno and Philza are caught up in their Syndicate work, they haven’t even bothered keeping contact with me. And Wilbur is just...well, dead! He was killed during the Manburg explosion. It’s not even that they just forget me. They ignore me, neglect me. I’ve tried on so many different occasions to just send them messages through our comms or strike up conversation with them if I see them on a rare occasion, but it’s always just the cold shoulder. And it’s getting even colder. It’s numbing. Family is supposed to be there for you through your strife, so where is mine?

Well, I’ll tell you. My family at the moment mainly consists of Puffy and occasionally Tubbo. The horn family of the SMP, technically Schlatt and Dream as well but seeing as Schlatt is dead and Dream is in prison I don’t really see them often. 

“Y/n? Hey there bud!” 

A familiar warm and friendly voice is heard from behind me. I turned around to see the lady I wanted to see right about now, Puffy. She wraps me in a quick side hug, squeezing my shoulder affectionately. 

“I was just here to check my sign up booklet! Did you wanna check in again?”

I nod my head at her signaling that I just wanna chat like usual. She gets the sign and walks me to the small tree we’ve recently been going to to talk. It’s the tree that Schlatt smoked his cigarettes at when he was president. Sure, he’s dead and did a lot of bad things but Puffy suggested this place since she finds it comforting since they’re related. 

We sit down on the worn grass around the tree as we usually do. 

“So, what’s up? Anything in particular you wanna talk about, bud?”

Puffy usually starts off these conversations, she’s looking at me with a soft smile. It’s very comforting. She’s the only one who’s been giving me this kind of affection. I haven’t felt it in so long… 

“Y/n…? Your wings are scrunching up, what’s wrong?”

I look back confused as to what she’s talking about. My wings are in fact scrunching together against my back, it seems like they’ve been scrunching up more and more the more I was in my head about my family.

“I just…my family..did I do something wrong?”

Puffy tilts her head, she usually does this when she wants me to elaborate.

“I’ve tried so many different times to just talk to them! Even when we were younger, they rarely paid any attention to me. I had hoped that letting Tommy take my things or giving Philza and Techno their space to work on their stuff or helping Wil-“

“Y/n! Y/n, please slow down. Now, collect your thoughts, alright? What is it that you're trying to say?”

I take a deep breath. The memories and thoughts clouding my mind. The days I’d spend in our family’s house touch starved and lonely. The days they’d only talk to me to feed me or to ask me for something. The days I’d go to sleep in my twin-sized bed and feel the black and gold-tipped wings on my back rubbing against my arms, reminding me who I was and will always be bound to. A father who doesn’t care, and siblings full of neglect.

“Is it really a big request to just want some attention from them? I don’t know what I did, and Puffy, it destroys me to think I did something to hurt them. I just want them to like me! What did I do?!”

I’m sent over the edge at this point. Tears are streaming down my face and my sobs get more and more aggressive the more I try to repress it.

“AND I HAVE THESE WINGS ON MY BACK TO REMIND ME OF THE PEOPLE WHO DON'T CARE!”

Puffy takes one of my hands in hers and gives me a small handkerchief from her pocket with her free hand.

“Y/n...it kills me to hear that you truly feel this way. But please, please tell me- why do you care so much about people who don’t care at all?”

I sit and stare at the velvet red piece of fabric in my hand. Why do I care so much?

“W-well..because they’re my family! And I should still care for them!”

She looks at me and wraps her arms around me in a tight hug. It takes me by surprise and I’m frozen in place.

“Bad people are bad people. It doesn’t matter who they are or what their relations with you are, they hurt you. It doesn’t matter if they’re your blood family, if they aren’t willing to give you the love that you need then they aren’t worth it, Y/n.”

I’ve been caught off guard by what Puffy had said. My mind analyzes and sifts through the memory of her words. It leaves me distraught to realize she makes sense. I’m desperate to grab onto something to say, but I can’t think of anything. So, I say basically the last thing I can. 

“I wanna be part of your family, Puffy. I want horns, not these wings.”

Puffy breaks from the hug to look at me straight in the eyes. She still has that warm, welcoming smile on her face. The only form of comfort I have around here now. And I’m thankful for it.

“You don’t need horns to be part of my family, Y/n. I’ll accept you with open arms.”

[fubukiswifenoimnotjoking]

One Punch Man ship reviews bc I’m bored

WARNING: BIG ONE PUNCH MAN WEBCOMIC AND MANGA SPOILERS

GenoSai: do I even have to say it?? They compliment each other so well and are already besties. They make me so happy and I love their love. Genos literally came into Saitama’s life and brought so much new life and excitement when Saitama thought he’d never get any. Genos gives him love and appreciation all the time and never abandons him. Saitama isn’t connected to his feelings, but he cares about Genos and would do just about anything for him, to keep him safe. Genos constantly teases Saitama and Saitama grumbles and takes it with some banter, Genos is super emotional and Saitama does his best to comfort him, they fucking love shopping together and just hanging out period, they talk about the dumbest shit and somehow they still understand each other with the one brain cell they both share. It takes Genos forever to realize his feelings are deeper and Saitama has to be TOLD by their friends that he should fucking realize his feelings already. Just...I could keep going but I’ll stop! 2718873737839439/10 (let’s not talk about the age gap btw, 6 years isn’t bad and Genos is a legal adult.)

FubuSai: the stereotypical straight ship ppl gravitate to. Eh. I can see it, but at the same time I feel like they don’t completely compliment each other. Are they a hot couple? Duh. But I feel like their pride and communication issues would get in the way. 4/10

TatsuSai: hnghhhh. Someone mentioned this before, can’t remember who, but Saitama literally thinks she’s a child in canon. So that just....makes it gross. Same problems as FubuSai but worse. I’d rather see them as hesitant friends w a weird bond. 0/10

SonSai/SonicSai/idk the ship name: eh, toxic. Cant see them getting past communication issues and pride, again. Plus Sonic wants to kill his ass. Also, I just feel no romantic tension?? Even in fanfic it just falls flat for me. 3/10

MumenSai: a favorite!! Wish I saw it more, it’s very cute. Mumen is so kind and would absolutely be there to help him w self esteem and just help him be a better person period. And Saitama would have a cute little kind guy to tease and open up to. I could maybe see Mumen’s kindness getting on Saitama’s nerves when he’s in a bad mood bc Mumen almost never snaps and Saitama feels shittier, or maybe Mumen being mad at Saitama for being kinda lazy at home while Mumen is working his ass off and he’s like babe I just got home, please stop playing the fucking game and pay attention to me I have a concussion again. Prob too nitpicky on this one, heh, but 8.4/10

Genos x Sonic: wtf? As a crack ship, sure. That’s hilarious. But as a serious ship, 1.3/10 bc I could MAYBE see them bond over their love of my chemical romance or sum.

Anyone x Puri: -128382839287473828739219833468282/10. Fuck Puri.

TatsuKing: eh. Indifferent on this one too. I can see them getting along and Tatsu being the mean but supportive gf in public, but a sweet gf in private. King could be like her calm oasis of video games and sweet blonde shy bf. I sway more towards ace/aro King and queer non binary Tatsu, but this is still good. 6/10

FubuPsy/Fubuki x Psykos/idk: hell yeah!! This series NEEDS more wlw ships, both for me to project onto and to cry over. Prob my fav Fubuki ship, cuz they’ve known each other since they were young and had a tenuous friendship. I didn’t use to ship it until I saw that scene in the wc after the MA arc (u know the one) but here we are. They’re big personalities so any interaction is bound to be chaotic at first, but I really think they’d work. Pride put to the side, Psykos could be someone for Fubuki to finally rely on other than the Blizzard Bunch, someone to confide in, a badass partner to fight monsters with, talk about nothing for hours with, be a super fashionable #girlboss couple with, and someone who would really see her for who she is-especially w Psykos knowledge of her from the past. Hell, Psykos might even know her better than Tatsumaki. Fubuki could be an anchor to her like she currently is in the wc, providing a quiet comfort and making her open up little by little. Would prob be toxic at first bc of the MA arc and their desire for power, but is a very good ship I think. 9/10

Speedal/Sonic x Mumen: an old fav! Sonic would have a hard time not hating Mumen at first bc he’s the picture definition of a hero, sum he hates. But hanging out with him would show him Mumen is a GOOD guy genuinely and he’d be like ohhhh shit I’m in love w this man. Mumen would thoroughly appreciate someone to make him live a little, break some rules and stand up to ppl when they talk over him. He’d DEFINITELY be upset when finding out Sonic is an assassin, but would prob be conflicted bc he knows Sonic is a good person despite that. Would prob make Sonic give up on killing for them to be together. Sucks bc of the assassin thing and bc they haven’t met in canon! So we’re not sure how they’d interact with each other, sigh. 7.4/10

Okamaitachi x Bushidrill: a very underrated ship! To be clear, I headcanon Kama as a trans woman and so does most of the fandom. Anyway, very sweet and already built as a friendship bc of their partnership under Atomic Samurai. I can’t remember who writes fic and makes art of them on tumblr but AAAAA it’s so good! Very sweet. Basically depicted Bushi as a nervous himbo who’s honest about his feelings but scared to say them and Kama as a sweet lady who’s crazy about Bushi. Very sweet. Want more of them!! 6.1/10

OneZon/Zombieman x One Shotter: never even thought of the ship till I saw @megidolan art work! Very wholesome, and from what little we know of Shotter we know he’s a sort of nervous yet strong willed guy, and Zombieman would totally help him calm down bc he’s so chill. I could see them sharing cigarettes and talking shit on heroes while cuddling u know? 7/10 only because I don’t see enough of it but very good concept.

Mumarou/Mumen x Garou: a lot of ppl are gonna hate me for this but....I don’t like it. I’ve tried! I just—idk. I’ve read so many good fics about them that make me like it a bit, but the concept is just eh. I think their relationship is, in most reps, really cliche angsty stuff. I wish I could elaborate I just...gah! Basically, there’s better ships for the both of them imo. Sorry!! 4.3/10

Sonic x Flashy/SonFlash: yes!! Prob my fav Sonic ship. They have soooo much tension, it’s almost worse than Genos’ tension w Saitama. Flashy LITERALLY poisoned Sonic so that he wouldn’t be forced to kill him at the ninja graduation. He cares. They’ll never say it out loud, but they care. They have someone who understands what they went through in each other and someone they’re both so similar to, yet so different from. Sonic is more vocal about his expressions and let’s people know it while Flashy often keeps things to himself, they could really influence the other to be more this or that. I could see a lot of comfort with these two, and not much is needed for relationship development; they already have so much unspoken between them after meeting for the first time in years. Love it. Wish I saw it more! 10/11

KingSai: wonderful! Out of the few ppl Saitama is close to, def my second fav pick for a ship for him. There’s a post saying how Saitama doesn’t cut King off when he’s going on rants about games and stuff bc he’s talking TO Saitama, not at him like Genos tends to do on accident. They’re already great buddies! Saitama could find a shy gamer man who he can talk to about manga and stuff and also a passionate bf who could break out of his shell w Saitama and be himself with no lies. King can have someone to protect him, duh, someone who finally understands his weird sense of humor, and someone to shower him in the love and kindness he deserves when Saitama is in the mood to be all out like that w his affections. Plus he’s Saitama’s anchor and brings him back down when he’s super anxious and depressed and tells him what’s up that he needs to fix without sugarcoating it. Would def have a bunch of inside jokes and go on dates that are just staying inside playing video games all night. Domestic af. 10/10

Fubuki x Mizuki: my first wlw Fubuki ship! Hard to find but very good. Mizuki is this big ball of kindness, energy, and raw power that would make Fubuki go ‘Ohhhhhhh, big pretty lady make brain go brrr.’ I could see Mizuki grounding Fubuki when she’s in over her head, giving her random gifts bc she saw sum and thought of her, doing a marathon run and wildly waving at Fubuki in the crowd, and all around being a dependable woman confident in herself and in love with a mysterious esper. Prob a little shy when it comes to anything physical bc she loves Fubuki so much and is overwhelmed by the realness of being w her. Fubuki gives Mizuki advice on ‘acting like a proper hero’ or whatever and though Mizuki thinks she doesn’t need it, Fubuki still helps her a lot w her career and being taken more seriously by others. Would give Mizuki someone who loves her for who she is and would go wild on her in private when she can be open about her affection, would be someone Mizuki could exercise with and listen intently to Mizuki’s physical knowledge, and would absolutely bandage her when she’s all banged up. Hnghh love this ship. It’s only behind the FubuPsy ship juuuuust a little bc they haven’t met in canon so we can’t be sure about their interactions and stuff. 8.8/10, I love WOMEN

Batarou: how could I go this far without mentioning them?! They have SOOOO much tension in the centichoro fight, like come on. Both snarky assholes who are huge softies one the inside, Badd being the more logical one (still a himbo, tho) and Garou being the more chaotic one. Probably take forever to admit their feelings bc they’re so prideful and stupid <3 flirt through constant wrestling matches and it takes Genos saying ‘they should kiss already, they’re getting on his nerves’ for them to finally realize what’s up. (@rayadraws has a great au where Garou Genos and Badd are a chaotic friend squad and Genos is the only brain of the group, haha. Very good au y’all check it out!) Would constantly pick on each other affectionately and switch into concerned SO when the other is hurt like the big teddy bears they are. Raise Zenko together for sure. Garou would fumble being romantic and Badd would find it both hilarious and cute. 11/12

Zombie mask/Amai x Zombieman:

So. I don’t like Amai Mask and I used to hate him, BUT the webcomic and fic have really helped me calm down on him (he’s still a dick tho), so it’s easier to want to ship him and stuff. Bc of Amai’s anger issues and controlling behavior, I could see this relationship being super toxic and icky—but I think they have some form of understanding that pulls Amai back from being a complete dick, you know? Start off as fuck buddies and slowly form something else from spending companionable time together other than screwing. Zombieman pulls Amai back from his angry fits and soothes him over with his logic. Talk maaaaaad shit about heroes, but only when they’re alone because Zombieman knows Amai will talk loud af about the heroes they’re roasting and Zombie doesn’t wanna stop a fight from happening. Zombieman loves making Amai flustered and has a secret check list in his head of all the things that get Amai red faced. Loves to listen to Amai rant about things for hours and loves to watch his face go through almost cartoon like expressions as he talks. He won’t admit it, but Zombie loves to be spoiled by Amai’s shit tons of cash and often takes rides in Amai’s limos when he wants to smoke and think to himself. Amai has a hard time realizing how his feelings have changed, but gets hit hard with it when he wakes up to Zombie making them breakfast one morning while wearing Amai’s underwear. Amai also loves to spoil Zombie and takes him out to restaurants and buys him cool new weapons on the weekends. @batneko has pretty much gotten me into this ship and I strongly suggest looking at their works! 7.9/10

DemonKnight/Genos x Zero/Drive Knight: I’m pretty sure this used to be a crack ship before the past like 10 manga chapters—and now here we are! Not a fav bc 1. ZERO LEFT GENOS TO SELF DESTRUCT AFTER THEY COMBINED TO FORM THE FUCKING JET HE WAS JUST LIKE lol bye SO LIKE if he left him to die that’s super hard for me to forgive and ship grrr 2. Disregarding the manga’s canon and looking at the wc, while I love the little trip they went on where Zero demonstrated his abilities and helped Genos kill monsters, it’s super sus. He knew alllll of this info on Metal Knight and was super supportive and understanding when Genos said he needed time to think. Like,,,what are his intentions? We know so little about him—is he trying to trick Genos or was he being sincere? THAT STUFF ASIDE, they’re a really fun ship. They’re both huge fucking nerds and can keep up with their talk on robotics for hours, they’re both cyborgs so they understand each other’s pain, and they’re both super cool and angsty. I think they could really settle into a deep bond that can go platonic or romantic, just depends. Genos needs more ppl in his life so hell yeah! Plus, he can really let go with Zero bc they don’t have that teacher/student relationship and Zero, if he’s really a sincere and kind guy like in the wc, can be there for Genos and listen to him. Don’t have much to say on this ship other than @wellthisisembarrassing makes GORGEOUS art of them! 6.3/10

Webuiko/Suiko x Webigaza: YEAH I KNOW THEY HAVENT INTERACTED IN CANON AND WE DONT KNOW MUCH ABOUT THEM BUT HEAR ME OUT. Webigaza—cool af determined cyborg idol who’s surprisingly down to earth when talking with Child Emperor. Suiko—sassy and honest fighter who doesn’t take shit and is very passionate. Suiko would go to talk to Web then immediately freak out bc aaaa she’s way prettier than she thought, she can’t do this! Web would have to gently encourage Suiko to talk and at first is like ‘ah man, must be an adoring fan, ugh I’m so tired. At least she’s hot’ but when Suiko snaps out of her shyness Web is like oh! She’s super cool wtf. Always bump into each other during fights and help each other get fixed up, Suiko using her muscle power to lift Web’s pieces (and give Web a great view of Suiko’s muscles holy SHIT) and Web would patch Suiko up. Not to be stereotypical, but they’re def a masc/femme couple. I love the idea of this ship soooo much and I really hope they interact! 6.6/10 only bc they haven’t met 😭😭😭 look them up on here! There’s some great art of them by a few blogs

Dr. Kuseno x Bang: pretty sure @baldyborg came up with this one! Super cute. Just two old dudes finding a nice friendship in each other, maybe after Bang helps carry Genos to Kuseno’s after a day of fighting. Bang would find Kuseno to be a very cute little nerd man and would be sooo impressed by Kuseno’s mad scientist skills. Kuseno would be super impressed when seeing Bang in action too. They’d prob talk as soon as they meet each other and Genos would be in the background like you guys it’s been an hour, please fix me I’m on the verge of death 🧍🏻Bang would give Kuseno advice on training techniques to teach Genos and advice on making his bodies more martial arts ready or sum, meanwhile Kuseno would give his take on how to be kinder to Garou so that Bang would learn to repair the relationship with a gentleness he’s seemingly lacking (yes I’m talking about the chapter where he and Garou start fighting and Bang is just not doing enough to reach out to Garou, he’s being a callous old man! So yeah I’m still mad about that). Genos and Saitama would prob be out on a date and Saitama would be like oh theres Bang, wonder what he’s doing? Then Kuseno would walk up and kiss Bang and Genos and Sai would be shocked like SIRS 👬 Genos would tell Bang he doesn’t need another adoptive dad and Bang would be like....ok.... I see them retiring in a cottage together and Bang would become a huge softie. Yes I’m actively ignoring chapter 141 of the wc, shut up. 7.6/10

TankTop master x Mumen: they have a nice friendship going on in the manga right now! Just bros supporting bros. Tank is the picture definition of a muscly himbo and Mumen is his cute passionate bf. Also workout buddies af!! Don’t have much to say other than pretty good ship, just not a fav. 5.2/10

To sum it up—

GenoSai: 2718873737839439/10, Batarou: 11/12, SonFlash: 10/11, KingSai: 10/10, FubuPsy: 9/10, Fubuki x Mizuki: 8.8/10, MumenSai: 8.4/10, ZombieMask: 7.9/10, Dr. Kuseno x Bang: 7.6/10, Speedal: 7.4/10, OneZon: 7/10, Webuiko: 6.6/10, DemonKnight: 6.3/10, Okamaitachi x Bushidrill: 6.1/10, TatsuKing: 6/10, TankTop Master x Mumen: 5.2/10, Mumarou: 4.3/10, FubuSai: 4/10, SonSai: 3/10, Genos x Sonic: 1.3/10, TatsuSai: 0/10, anyone x Puri: -1283828319833468282/10

If there’s any ships I left out, it’s bc I don’t know them, don’t wanna talk about them, or just don’t have an opinion strong enough. Also, I know there are some poly ships like Genos x Saitama x Fubuki, but I’ve read only one fic about that (it was pretty good, here’s the link https://archiveofourown.org/works/5406992 ) so I don’t feel like talking about it. Hope no ones offended! All my opinion here :)

[pascalpanic]

Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter Eight

Summary: You wake up somewhere different from where you fell asleep. Once you figure out what happened, someone’s getting their ass kicked. Additionally, Javier wakes up. 

W/C: 3.5k (I got carried away)

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, LANGUAGE holy shit language, Steve is a patronizing asshole but he means well

A/N: AAAAA this chapter was really fun to write you guys. I decided this series is going to have 10 chapters and an epilogue. We’re approaching the end and that’s so crazy! Thank you all for sticking around with me!!! I have a new Javier fic series coming soon, titled Caffeine Rush, and I’m SO excited for it! In the meantime, let’s figure out where our dear reader woke up, shall we?

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You frantically look around the room you woke up in, terrified and confused. It’s dark, a sliver of moonlight coming in through the crack in the curtains. The alarm clock on a bedside table next to you reads that it’s 3:38, clearly at night, since it’s so dark. There’s a lamp behind it and you flip it on, uncovering the room to your eyes. It’s still unfamiliar, but you look at the other night stand and things start to shift into place.

On the small table sits a framed photo of two blonde-haired and blue-eyed people, hugging each other: you’re in Steve and Connie’s bedroom, in their bed. You rush out of the bed, flipping on the light. In the mirror, you discover that you’re wearing a large t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Your hair is tied in a colorful scrunchie. You have no recollection of getting in these clothes or getting here, which makes you realize that Steve or Connie must’ve been the one to change you from your bloodstained scrubs and take you here.

Exiting the bedroom, you walk into the apartment itself to find that neither of them are there with you. Javier’s denim jacket and your purse are sitting on the kitchen table. You pull the jacket on, grab your purse, and storm out of the apartment, down the steps and out of the building. You’re on a mission at this point, enraged that they’d remove you from Javier’s side, specifically without your consent. You murmur angrily under your breath as you make your way back to the hospital.

When you arrive, you shove the doors open and make your way up to the proper floor. The other nurses clear from your path as you stalk through the halls. 

You find Lorena as you enter the break room, and she looks relieved to see you. “Did you rest alright?” she asks, concerned, and puts her coffee down on the table she’s sitting at. 

“Did you let them do this?” you ask her, less enraged as her presence remains calm.

She shakes her head. “They took you before I could do anything about it. Steve brought you out and drove you to their place, then Connie told me about it. I wasn’t exactly happy that they did it but I figured you needed some rest, so it sounded like a good idea.” 

“They could’ve fucking told me!” 

“You wouldn’t have gone. Come on, we all know that.”

“Doesn’t make it alright.” You turn and leave the room, determined to go check on Javier now.

Outside of Javier’s room, Steve sits in an office chair and reads a book. He hears you approaching and his neutral expression tinges with fear when he sees your face. “Has he woken up yet?” You ask, hands on your waist to prevent yourself from grabbing his shirt and shaking him until his blue eyes burst from their sockets.

“Twice. He was barely conscious for either of them, though,” he admits, not meeting your eyes.

“How dare you, Murphy?” you hiss, stepping closer. 

He doesn’t dare to tell you that it isn’t his fault, that Connie was the one who asked him to do it. She changed you into Javier’s spare clothing and tied your hair up, and Steve brought you to the car and into their apartment. It doesn’t matter; Connie doesn’t need your wrath right now. She’s already spent most of the night crying. “You needed it.”

:Yes, I needed rest, but this was not the way to do it. Not without telling me, taking me somewhere without my knowing. Javier needs me, and-”

“Javier is asleep,” Steve says firmly. “He can’t need you when he’s not conscious. Plus, look around. This hospital is full of competent nurses.”

“I know him best of the nurses, Steve. You are not my father, you don’t get to make choices like that for me, like I’m some toddler.”

“You’re acting like one.”

You feel the rage pooling inside you, but it all dissipates as you look up and through the window and find a pair of dark brown eyes looking at you and Steve. “He’s not asleep, turns out,” you grumble and enter the room, smiling softly. 

Javier smiles back at you. “Hi.”

“Hey,” you practically whisper and gravitate towards him.

“You looked sexy yelling at Steve like that.”

You genuinely laugh at his words and shakes his head. “I think I’m physically incapable of looking sexy right now.”

“No, really. I like your jacket,” he tells you teasingly with a dazed smile, and you chuckle as you look down at yourself. “And your clothes… are they all mine?”

You look closely at the clothes and realize that they are. “Connie changed my clothes while I was sleeping,” you chuckle. “I wanted to be here when you woke up, but they took me to their apartment to rest.” You sit on the edge of the bed, and he reaches up for your face but you take his hand and hold it in both of yours. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here the last few times you woke up.”

Javier chuckles softly, then winces at the pain it causes. “I can’t even remember them, so that’s okay,” he tells you with a soft smile, his voice gravelly from the sleep. 

You bite your lip, your heart breaking at the pain he’s clearly in. You shed his jacket and bend down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” you tell him softly, your thumb stroking the back of his hand.

“I had the best nurse in Colombia to help me,” he tells you and you smile and kiss his knuckles gently. 

“How are you feeling?” You ask into his fingers.

“It hurts,” he admits in a small voice, his other hand tracing the incision across his abdomen. 

You nod at that, letting his hand rest on the bed, both of yours still clasping it. “At least you’ll have a badass scar,” you tease softly, and he smiles up at you, not bothering to laugh, not wanting the accompanying pain. His pupils are slightly wide; it’s an indication he’s not fully clear of the pain medication’s hold on him. You’re silent for a moment, simply looking at each other and glad the other is there. “What do you remember?” you ask, pushing his hair back from his forehead.

“Not much,” he shrugs. “Murphy and I were on the street to find an informant who told us to meet him there, and then there was a bang and I started to feel how much it hurt.” He gulps and looks down at the incision, though he can’t see it through his hospital gown. “Then I was in the ambulance, and then I saw you.” He smiles and you chuckle, a small smile tugging at your cheeks. “You looked like an angel.”

You bite down on your lip and look down as you remember what else he told you. He’d tell you now, you think, if he remembered it. But he doesn’t.

The door opens and Steve walks in. You squeeze his hand lightly, not wanting to look at the man you just berated so aggressively. “Hey, Javi,” Steve says softly.

“What the fuck did you do to make her so angry?” He asks, sitting up a little and wincing at the pain he feels in his abdomen.

“Javi-”

“No, what the fuck did you do?” he asks, clearly pissed off at him. “Because it was something shitty; no one just snaps like that, especially not her. What was it?” The medications make emotions more volatile, more subject to a quick change, but you didn’t expect this from him.

You bite your lip and shake your head. “It’s okay, Javi,” you tell him and gently press him down until his back meets the hospital bed again. He seems to relax under your touch. You swallow and tell him the story, an abridged version of it at least. 

“How dare you, Murphy?” Javier asks, in just the same tone as you did a few minutes earlier, and it makes Steve chuckle a little. He struggles up against your hand, trying to fully sit up “What, you think that’s funny? You fuckin’ c-”

“Javier,” you say sharply and continue to hold him against the bed. “Relax. It’s alright now, it’s all okay.”

The effort sitting up took shows on his face and in the way his body relaxes against the bed. “Okay,” he says warily, still looking at Steve with a little suspicion.

“I’m glad you’re alright, Javier,” Murphy simply says and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

The fact that Javi’s awake and seems to be able to stay awake is calming to you. “I’ve had a long day,” you admit with a chuckle. “I’d really like to go take a shower. I’ll get Connie or Lorena to come sit with you, and then I’ll come back?” You offer to him.

He shakes his head. “Send Steve back in. Go shower, hermosa,” he tells you with a smile. 

You nod and start to stand but he clutches your hand. “Before you go…” he sits up a little and presses a kiss to your forehead, then falls back against the pillow. He grunts from the effort it took. “Thank you.”

It warms your heart, makes you melt a little. “Cualquier cosa para ti, Javi,” you tell him gently and kiss his hand before dropping it. “Are you hungry? We can’t really give you solids yet, but I’d get you a Jell-O or something,” you offer.

He shakes his head. “No. Thank you, though.” 

You nod with a soft smile and exit the room. The smile falls as you see Steve again. “I’m going to go shower. He wants you,” you tell him. You look down at the cigarette he’s smoking and frown a little. “Whatever you do, don’t let him smoke.” You walk past him and head to the nurses’ bathrooms.

-

Steve enters a few moments later.

“Cigarette?” Javier asks him.

“You practically got stabbed, Javier. No smoking while you’re in here,” he tells him, but slips him a piece of nicotine gum. Javier chews it and sighs at the release that comes from it. “Why did you want me?” He asks.

Javier looks away, out of the window to the outside world. “Were you with me the whole time?” he asks him. 

Steve shakes his head. “No. Connie took over, made sure I wasn’t too fucked up. Got stitches,” he chuckles and points to his forehead. “She didn’t let me get discharged until she was sure every bandaid was in place.”

Javier nods. “Tell me everything that happened,” he asks, still staring away from him. Not wanting to meet his eyes when he makes a request from him.

Steve nods. “Well, let’s see. The bomb went off and a big piece of somethin’ went into your abdomen. Connie said it went between your ribs and it almost hit the liver, but just missed. It hit a big vein or somethin’ like that, I don’t really know, and you lost a lot of blood. Ambulance brought us here. Connie took me as soon as we got to the hospital. You were in surgery for a coupla’ hours. That all happened yesterday, technically. It’s ‘bout 4 A.M. now. You slept a long time, now we’re here.”

Javier nods at the story, chewing his gum and sighing at how nice the mint feels after the terrible feeling in his mouth that follows hours and hours of sleep. “Gotcha. When I was fucked up… did I say anything? To you, to anyone…” he trails off. It’s referring to you.

Steve nods. “Uh, yeah. The girls told me that you said you loved her, quite a few times. Called her your angel, with the whole light above the head thing,” he says and gestures to the top of his head. “Uh… she called in Lorena, and you thought she said Lorraine, so you started panicking.”

Javier’s eyes widen and he finally looks back at Steve. “What did you tell her about Lorraine?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just that she was your ex. Nothing about the whole wedding fiasco.”

Javier sighs at that, reassured. “Thank fucking Christ,” he nods and rubs his face with his hands. “Did anything else happen?”

She told you that she loves you too, Steve thinks, but he realizes he’s not really at liberty to tell him that. “No, that was about it. I brought her to our place and she slept for a little while. She… she cares a lot about you, Javi. She was about to fuckin’ castrate me before she saw you were awake.”

Javier smiles a little at the image, you in his clothes and absolutely roasting Steve. It made him a little proud, he had to admit. “Thank you. For making her rest,” he tells him finally.

Steve nods. “She needed it. She might be pissed about it now but  that was the only way she’d rest properly.”

“She’s a stubborn one.”

“Suits you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Murphy.”

“You said it first.”

The two men smile softly at each other. They’re both exhausted; it’s evident in their eyes. “Go home and get some rest. Better yet, tell the bastards at the embassy about this.”

“Oh, they already know, Javi.” Steve chuckles. “The explosion was at 7:30 in the mornin’ yesterday. That’s about a day ago now,” he reminds him. “They say to worry about the injury first and Escobar later.”

“Easy for them to say. They barely even think in the first place, much less about Escobar,” Javier grumbles. “If you go to the apartment, will you bring some of my files?”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “You really think I’m going to say yes to that?”

Javi groans as he readjusts himself, his rear end growing sore. “Worth a shot. Go home, Steve. I’ve got the girls here to take care of me.”

Steve nods a little. “Maybe I will. What else can I bring you from your apartment?” he asks. “I have four things I won’t bring you: cigarettes, booze, files, or condoms,” he teases and counts them off on his fingers. “You two can fuck when you’re all healed.”

Javier rolls his eyes at Steve. “At least some nicotine patches or gum then, if you won’t let me smoke.”

“Hey, her orders, not mine,” Steve says and raises his hands defensively as he stands. “Rest well, kid,” Steve tells him as he leaves the room.

“I’m older than you, you bastard,” Javier calls after him, and he hears Steve chuckle lightly as the door closes.

-

A bit after Steve leaves Javier’s room, you finish your shower and dry your body with a towel. Lorena keeps a small set of her own shower products in her locker, and gave them to you so you didn’t have to use the shitty, hospital-provided 6-in-1 soap. You feel refreshed as you dress in the only clothes available for you: one of Steve’s hoodies, with some American college’s logo plastered across the front, and Javier’s sweatpants. You tie your hair up with the same scrunchie as before and sigh as you look in the mirror. 

Your eyes are bloodshot and deeply sunken from the amount of tears they’ve shed in the past 24 hours. There are dark bags beneath them, puffy and heavy, and they only emphasizing how pronounced the veins in your eyes are. You nearly start crying again from how shitty you look, but hold back. You brush your teeth with a disposable toothbrush, sighing at how good it feels to be clean. 

Once you finish, you put the items back in Lorena’s locker and chug a coffee in the break room. You haven’t eaten much today, besides the snacks Steve brought earlier, but the coffee is all you need. It feels good as it warms you from the inside out. 

At this point, you’re technically off-shift, and it should be after visiting hours, but none of your coworkers comment on this as you walk to Javier’s room. They simply pat your shoulder or give you some words of reassurance.

You throw away your coffee as you stand outside his room. His eyes are shut, and for a moment you worry that he fell back asleep, but they open when he hears the door. He sees you and smiles softly, reaching out a hand to you. “Mi ángel,” he calls and you smile, sitting on the side of the bed. 

“Hi,” you chuckle and trace his face softly. “Would you like it if I washed your face? It’s been a long day. That shower felt nice, and I can’t really get you in there yet, but maybe you’d-”

Javier cuts you off. “I’d like that.”

You nod and go to his room’s little bathroom, filling a basin with warm water and a little soap. You place a towel in it and bring it out, sitting on the side of his bed again. 

The towel is soaking, and you lightly wring it out over the bucket before wiping down Javier’s face. His pupils have shrunk to a regular size again; he must be back to a proper consciousness by now.  He smiles at the touch and you’re so close you notice his breath is minty. Odd, until you remember- you chuckle softly. “Steve snuck you some Nicorette.”

“You weren’t supposed to find out,” he says, his beautiful eyes looking up at you. 

“You’re not the only one trained to be observant, Peña,” you tease softly. “You take down narcos, I psychologically evaluate my patients.” “And what are you finding out about me?” he asks, a hand on each side of your waist.

“That you’re a desperate flirt, even when you’re coming back from the edge of death.”

“Damn, you are good.” You laugh softly as you finish wiping his face, behind his ears, and his neck, placing the towel back in the basin and setting it on the bedside table. You take his face in both your hands and smile down at him, and Javier’s smile widens. “I meant it earlier. You really are my angel. Saved my life,” he mumbles, your faces closer together as he sits up a little. 

“I’m no angel,” you shake your head and look down softly, your hands still cupping his face.

“Oh, I know that,” he chuckles gently, just lightly enough that it doesn’t upset his wound. “Mi ángel. Mía.”

“Javi,” you whimper softly and pout, smiling even though your eyes water. 

He finally closes the gap between your lips, kissing you softly and chastely. It lasts just a moment, but it’s perfect. He breaks away and whispers your name softly, and you rest your head in the curve of his neck. “I know I was looped up as fuck when I said it,” he tells you, “but I did mean it. I love you.” 

You lift your head, the tears now dropping from your eyes. “I love you too, Javi. So much, so so much,” you admit through a watery voice. “Can you- do you think it would hurt you if I hugged you?” you ask, looking down at the area where his incision is. 

“Try it. Can’t hurt much worse than it does now.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, and he wraps his around your waist. It doesn’t matter that it does hurt when he presses your chest to his. The pain is nothing when you have your arms around him, when you’re holding him and he’s holding you.

“Here,” he says and scoots over in the bed. There’s space for you, and you lie down next to him in the bed. You drape an arm over his chest, making sure it’s above the deep wound. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you against him, snuggling you into his side. You smile softly, your head resting on his pec. It’s cozy, cuddled up with him. With the man you’ve spent the past day in absolute agony over.

“I love you so much,” you murmur to him, your tears falling onto his hospital gown. 

“I love you too, mi ángel,” Javier mumbles into your damp hair, pressing a kiss to your scalp.

It’s calming. You can hear his heart thump in his chest, his lungs inhaling and exhaling in a low and smooth pattern. His chest vibrates as he speaks. It’s perfect. “Will you stay here? Fall asleep with me?” he asks, almost shyly.

“Oh god, yes,” you chuckle a little. “Please.”

“Well, goodnight then,” he murmurs to you and kisses your head once more. “I love you.”

“Goodnight, Javi. I love you too.” Even though you just chugged a coffee, it takes no time at all to fall asleep in Javier’s arms.

-

Translations: 

Cualquier cosa para ti- anything for you

Mía- mine

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