#also yes he is reading a magazine with his own face on the cover

[cary-elwes]

[bby-deerling]

i'm sorry, women (platonic sanji & zoro's partner!reader)

yes this is based on that scene from diary of a wimpy kid, no i'm not sorry. part of my lil' zoro x reader cinematic universe, but as always can be read as a standalone

suggestive, 18+, mdni, wc: 1.1k masterlist

It was a beautiful morning, bright blue sky untouched by clouds and sun high in the air—a perfect day, in your eyes, for you and Zoro to take care of some laundry.  You take care of your own garments first, scrubbing them thoroughly in the soapy water before rinsing them and carefully hanging them up on the clothesline.  Feeling footsteps approaching, you tilt your head upwards to be met with a familiar blonde mop of hair.

“Hey, Sanji!  Thanks for the extra bacon at breakfast!” you chirp as you start on Zoro’s clothes pile, dunking a pair of his sweatpants under the layer of suds.

“Always my pleasure, sunshine.” he says, carefully blowing his cigarette smoke out of one side of his mouth to avoid directing it towards you or your freshly hung clothes.  You pull Zoro’s pants out of the washing tub and rinse them off, but pause when you notice the frown on the cook’s face.

“What’s up, blondie?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him and tilting your head.

“Nothing.  It’s just that you’re too good to be doing a man’s laundry for him.” he says, motioning to the pair of sopping wet pants in your hands.

You let out a sigh, setting them down and crossing your arms.  “He’s going to help me soon; he’s just finishing up his workout.” 

“Sweetheart, I’m not going to sit here and watch you wait around for him all day until those bubbles are all popped.” he says, the look in his eye dancing somewhere between disappointment and pity.

“Quit worrying so much about what I’m doing—he promised to help me, and he will.” you snap back, picking the pair of pants back up and wringing them out before hanging them up on the clothesline.

You expect him to leave you be to get started on preparations for lunch, but Sanji simply stares you down with an incredulous look in his eyes until you grumble and make your way towards the Observation Tower to go collect Zoro.

Poking your head out of the trap door in the floor, you take a moment to soak in the delicious sight of a shirtless Zoro training his back before speaking up.

“I’m ready for your help with the laundry, no rush though!”  you say with a smile.  Despite Sanji’s scathing disapproval, you really didn’t mind picking up a chore for Zoro here or there; what you were really after was spending time with him, whether it was finishing the laundry together out on the deck or keeping him company while he trained.

He lets out a grunt as he lets his weight fall to the floor.  “Lost track of time.  I’m almost finished up here, I’ll be right down, promise.” he says, stretching his arms above his head and rolling his shoulders.

“Mind if I stay and watch?” you ask, propping your head up with your elbows and staring up at him with eager eyes.  He grins back at you, running his hand through his hair and wiping his sweat away with the towel around his neck.

“As much as I’d love that, I actually need you to do something for me.” he says.  “I’ve got a couple shirts in my dresser that I forgot to put in the dirty pile, you’ll know which ones.  Mind getting them for me?”

“Sure thing!” you say as you nod, knowing exactly which clean-up shirts he was talking about, and making a mental note to also wash all the shirts that had come into contact with them.  Descending the ladder and making a bee-line towards the men’s quarters, you hum one of your favorite tunes under your breath as you pull open Zoro’s dresser drawer, only for your jaw to drop and mind to go blank as your eyes drifted to Sanji’s bed.

Sanji’s sheets were absolutely littered with dirty magazines, naked women on the covers performing acts ranging anywhere from femdom to being tied up in bondage.  Grabbing Zoro’s shirts, you intend to bring them outside and add them to the pile of clothes to wash, but you find yourself frozen and slack-jawed at the sheer brazenness of him keeping this in a shared place—a place where poor Chopper could potentially see them and be scarred for life.

“Forgot about those.  Stupid pervert can’t even bother hide them well.”  Zoro says as he enters the room and notices your shock, annoyed at Sanji’s inability to be normal towards women, or discreet about his more devious tastes.

Lost in thought and still frozen, you take a moment to process the situation before a wicked grin spreads across your face.

“I’m gonna mess with him.” you say decisively, grabbing one of Sanji’s ties and using it as a barrier to pick up one of the more filthy shibari magazines and taking it out to the deck.  Zoro follows close behind you, a devious smirk pulling at his lips.

“Get out here blondie!” you shout, still red in the face from witnessing the sheer obscenity of the cook's taste in X-rated material.  As you wait for him to shuffle out of the kitchen, you take another quick glance at the cover of the magazine and cringe.

“You called?  Did you want something to snack on—” he starts, before turning pale as a ghost when you hold the magazine in his face.

“Found this when grabbing some of Zoro’s shirts.  Why am I not surprised that the so-called gentleman has all this dehumanizing filth spread on his bed for anyone to see?”

“It’s a high art form, dear.” he says, a visible bead of sweat running down his face as Robin giggles behind her hand, enjoying the show from her reclining chair.

“You can call it whatever you want, cook, but it looks like porn to me, and hardcore at that.” she says, amused. 

Sanji’s cigarette snaps in half between his teeth, turning back towards you.  “Men have certain urges, sunshine.” he says defensively, trying in vain to pull some smoke through the severed cigarette, eyes turning towards Zoro, implying he would understand what he was trying to say.

Zoro lets out a deep chuckle, greatly enjoying the torture session unfolding before him.  “Don’t look at me like that, pervert.  You know you’re not getting any help from me.”

“Do you have anything you want to say to women for having owned this type of magazine?” you say, not willing to let him go just yet.

“I’m sorry, women…” he mumbles, face pink and head hanging low as he stared at the ground.

Satisfied, you take the magazine into the kitchen and toss it in the trash can before returning to the wash tub to finish the laundry.

[yanderecrazysie]

hey, no hate if you deny this request, but au soulmate bakugou? Yes pls.

I don’t think I could ever deny a soulmate au XD

Title: Soulmate Song

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, soulmate AU, spoiler for Bakugou’s hero name, swearing

Summary: Your soulmate is not exactly what you pictured.

“Soulmates come by surprise

Bell curve it seems extremes arise

And those who beat the odds will call it fate”

-From “Soulmate Song” by Carson James Argenna

You weren’t one to look at tabloids, but even you had heard the rumors of how abrasive and rude the hero Dynamight was. You’re also sure the magazines had covered his soulmate mark. You wish now that you’d read at least one article on it, because then you wouldn’t be as taken by surprise as you were now.

You sat there on the dusty floor, coughing from the smoke in the air. The store your family owns was destroyed. Hopefully the insurance would cover it. 

Despite all the rumors surrounding Dynamight, he was undeniably a superhero at this moment. He was panting, shoulders heaving a little with each breath. The villains, however, are much worse for wear, lying knocked out on overturned shelves.

Somehow, the villains are the least worrying thing on your mind. The forefront thought on your mind is the mark on Dynamight’s left shoulder blade. A grenade with three small sparks around the top… oh so fitting for him. You shouldn’t be as surprised as you were that he was your match.

That’s right. Your own back bore the same mark. Bakugou Katsuki was your soulmate.

You didn’t exactly look your best. Your hair was blown in every direction, your clothes were covered in dust and soot, and you were sure your face was just as dirtied. But this could be your only chance to approach Dynamight, considering he was a famous person.

You got to your feet, swaying unsteadily. Dynamight’s back was to you and you weren’t sure how to get his attention.

“Excuse me, Dynamight?” Your voice came out as a squeak. He didn’t turn around.

Your hand reached out hesitantly and rested on the soulmate mark. For a moment, you admired the way it looked on his light skin, the next moment, he was spinning around, asking, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

You curled your hand into your chest, heat rising to your cheeks.

“We’re soulmates,” you whispered.

“What was that?” Dynamight didn’t seem all that interested in what you had to say, but at least he was listening.

“We’re soulmates!” You said, a little louder than intended.

The blond hero stared at you for a moment before a derisive laugh left his lips, “Yeah, right, I’ve heard that line before.”

“No, I’m serious,” you protested, “I have a tank top underneath my shirt, I can show-”

“Listen,” Dynamight said, “My soulmate is not going to be a little wimp. If I have a soulmate, she’s going to be a strong hero who can stand by my side and fight. Not someone like you who cowers on the floor like a stupid little bug.”

It felt like the life had been sucked out of you. Your stomach plummeted and then rose with the fury consuming your body. 

“Fuck you,” you spat, “I’d rather have no soulmate than be with you.”

“See, that’s a little more fiery,” Dynamight snickered.

You spun on your heel and stormed through the employee’s only entrance. The backroom was spared from the damage the villains and explosive hero had caused. 

You held back tears. Like every little girl, you had dreamed you’d meet your soulmate and live happily ever after. Even as an adult, you’d held out hope. 

But this guy? You weren’t lying when you said you’d rather have no soulmate at all.

You’d cry later, you were sure of that. But for now, anger was your primary emotion.

How dare he be an asshole? How dare he crush your dreams of being happy?

Why had the universe paired you with someone like him? Had mother nature run out of pairs to match up?

Well, forget him. You didn’t need him. There were plenty of people who lost their soulmates, surely you’d meet one of them. Or maybe you’d meet a guy whose soulmate was a total bitch and you could bond over how much the universe sucked.

You’d be fine.

—---------------------------------------------

A month had passed since that day, and Bakugou hadn’t given it a second thought. Just another crazy fan trying to get him to date them. He didn’t even care about finding his soulmate.

At least, he didn’t think he did. Not until now.

You’re playing in the waves, splashing your friend on the mostly-empty beach. He recognizes you not just by your face, but by the symbol on your shoulder blade. 

You weren’t lying.

He approached you eagerly, feeling the pull of fate dragging him closer. Sure, you weren’t the strong pro hero he was expecting, but you were solely and uniquely his.

You gave him a dirty look upon seeing him and loudly suggested to your friend that the two of you head further down the beach.

The message was clear. He got it.

He started to walk away, then stopped. Looked back at you. Felt that surge of possessiveness shoot up his spine.

You were weak. And, for the first time, he wasn’t seeing that in disgust, but in worry. You were completely unprotected, defenseless…

You needed him. And who was he to protest?

The universe wanted you together, after all.

[ganymede-princess]

Vignettes | Robert Capa

Main fic

ship: robert capa X f!oc

warnings: sexual references/very VERY mild smut

summary: a companion piece to Entanglement Theory, this is a collection of scenes that serve as windows into Capa and Doc's relationship.

total word count: 2681

a/n: During the absolute madness and obsession that was the writing of Entanglement Theory, I imagined several scenarios that would not fit into the story. So instead of just letting them fizzle out, I've decided to write them out while I'm still in the depths of my obsession. Treat this as a fluffy little continuation of the previous story; less looming cosmic horror and more slice of life. There may be a sequel to this some time in the future. Also, while searching through Tumblr, I discovered a set of summarised backstories for each of the Icarus crew that were used during the film's production. They hit on the character's views on a few key subjects, so I decided to write one out for Doc.

written by @ganymedeprincess

Waiting Room - word count: 369

"You're nervous."

Capa looks up from his copy of National Geographic, studying me with an unreadable expression. Though the waiting room is slightly too warm, I still shiver at the frosty blue of his eyes as he peers at me through his glasses. I drum my fingers on the copy of Vogue in my lap.

"And you're not?" I flush.

Capa closes his magazine and purses his lips derisively.

"It's just LASIK. It won't hurt."

"I know, I'm a doctor, remember?"

"How could I forget?" The black frames of his glasses dominate his face, almost hiding the amusement in his eyes. I think I'll miss them when they're gone. "And yes, I'm nervous."

"Good. I don't feel so bad about it now."

He almost smiles as he goes back to reading.

"Your hair's getting longer." I bite my cheek.

"Mm." He looks at me from the corner of his eye, thumbing a lock of hair clinging to his neck. "I'm thinking I'll buzz it before departure so I won't have to worry about it haircuts for a few months."

"You'll look like Mace." I giggle.

"I hadn't thought of that." He looks up, narrowing his eyes.

"I wish you two got along better."

"He doesn't exactly make it easy."

"I agree, he can be quite antagonistic." My eyes fall on the fish tank across the room where a clownfish repeatedly prods at a closed anemone. "But you're both excellent scientists, and so interesting in your own ways."

"You like him, don't you?" His blue lantern eyes fall back to the magazine on his lap.

"Sure, he's a good friend." I skirt the obvious double entendre. Capa nods wordlessly. "You could just grow your hair out, y'know."

I hand him my copy of Vogue, folded to a photo of the actor Apollo Chalamet with his long black hair in a ponytail.

"I think it'd suit you."

He studies the page for a moment, and hands it back with a wry smirk.

"Maybe."

"Um, Met-roh-doo-rah?" A young woman in scrubs reads my name from a clipboard.

"Metrodora." I correct her with a smile. "See you after, Capa."

"See you, Metrodora." Capa's crystal eyes glimmer as he teases me. "Break a leg."

Caught - word count: 1990

Gunfire hails from all sides as I crouch run behind Harvey, covering his back as we seek shelter behind a small armored quad. Snow falls and piles up inside the hangar from the hole our magnet bomb ripped in the ceiling, slicking the floor so I have to take care not to slip as we run outside to meet the enemy tank that is rolling in, shifting the snow into dirty brown wakes behind it.

"I don't know why you don't play it in Simulation." Mace sprawls on the end of the lounge, munching a muesli bar. "You guys could afford to break a sweat more often."

"I just came from the gym room, Mace." I scoff as I unload a hail of bullets into the sprocket of the tank.

"Believe it or not, we don't all want the stress of actually being in a war zone." Harvey adds, scaling the side of the huge, silver vehicle with his grappling hook.

"You're not actually-"

"We know!" Harvey snaps.

"Are you just gonna sit there commentating or are you gonna pick up a controller?" Trey climbs up the other side, swinging across to drop a grenade into a porthole on the side of the tank, only for it to fall out of another hole, blowing him to smithereens. "Shit!"

"Nice." I giggle, and jog over to revive him. "You can have mine in a second, I'm gonna go make a cuppa."

Beside me, somebody settles on the arm of the couch. Enraptured by the action on the screen before me, I can't afford to look away.

"That you, Capa?"

"Yeah." His voice rumbles pleasantly, but I keep my eyes on the screen as I break the camera on the front of the tank with my armored forearm.

"Can you put the kettle on, please?"

"Yes, dear." He quips, wandering off.

I scoff, my face flushing with the keen awareness that none of the crew know about our affair. Trey makes a whip cracking sound with his mouth.

"Shut up, Trey!" I clumsily hand my controller to Mace. He snatches it from me a little too aggressively and I glare him down. "Hey!"

"Mmph."

"What's your problem?"

"Nothing." He scowls.

"Look, I don't know why you're so sour but you can't take it out on me." I frown, stalking out of the room.

"What happened?" Capa asks as I arrive in the kitchen. He is perched on the countertop holding a sleeve of saltines.

"What?" I avoid his gaze, knowing the instant I meet his eyes I will be powerless to look away.

"You're upset, what happened?" He taps the back of my leg with his foot. The warmth in his voice lures me into the snare of his vision.

"It's that easy to tell, huh?" His eyes cool the fire in my belly.

"Mm. I can read you." He puts down the saltines and holds out his hands in offering. "What happened?"

"It's Mace." I give him my hands sidle in between his knees. "He snapped at me for no reason."

"I'll kill him." Capa's jaw tightens.

"Thanks." I peck his cheek. "Do you know what's upsetting him?"

"You think it's my fault?" He frowns.

"No. I just thought you might know."

"Could be anything." He shakes his head, eyes sharp with annoyance. "I will kill him if you want me to."

"Mm." I smile, tuck my arms around him and lay my head on his chest, reveling in his warmth.

"Look at me." Capa rewards my obedience with a kiss.

It begins gently enough, his huge, rough hands cradling my face while his lips barely brush against mine. Greedily, I press forward to deepen the kiss, but he breaks away to look at me.

"I haven't seen you much today." He smooths my hair down. "I've missed you."

"Me too." I cradle his face in my hands and watch as he lets out a shuddering breath. "I wish we had more chances to work together."

"I'll see if I can move around the chores roster next week." He nuzzles my hand. "Hopefully we can line our break times up as well so we can go and hang out in the Earth Room."

"That'd be great." I press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and nudge his nose with mine, silently pleading him to kiss me again.

He takes pity on my desperation, kissing me deeply. I part my lips and his tongue slips into my mouth, swirling a heady vortex of sensation that reverberates through every inch of me. Helpless and at his mercy, I try desperately to push closer to him, to feel his taut muscles beneath his shirt and-

Somebody clears their throat.

"Jesus!" I leap back from him, sending my empty cup scuttling across the floor. "Searle, I-"

"Searle, it's not-"

Searle puts his hand up to silence us.

"Congratulations." He rolls his eyes, pushing past me to grab some decaf. "Just, don't do that in the kitchen, yeah?"

Desperately, I look to Capa who has surreptitiously covered his lap with a tea-towel and the Saltines. In spite of my burning embarrassment, I stifle a laugh.

"Searle, listen-" Capa begins.

"No, you listen." Searle pours his coffee. "I'm not going to tell on you, but I do want to have a talk with both of you about the implications of this situation. Now, I suggest you go have a cold shower, separately, and meet me in my office in thirty minutes."

Searle slinks away, leaving Capa and I in stunned silence. I bury my face in my hands and sigh. Capa hops down from the counter and rubs my shoulder then wordlessly guides me to the bathrooms.

****

Capa and I reconvene outside Searle's office. I wring my hands, avoiding his gaze.

"Don't be scared." He murmurs. "It's only Searle."

"I don't know why I feel like I've done something wrong." I confess, anxiety rising like bile in my chest.

Capa glances up and down the hallway, tilts my face up to look at him for a moment, then pulls me into a hug.

"I'm not feeling great about it, either," He admits, stroking my hair. "But we're gonna go in there and hear him out, then we'll decide what to do."

"I guess it was always gonna come to this."

"Mm." Capa breaks the embrace. "C'mon."

As we enter his office, Searle looks up from his book and places it face down on his desk. I notice it's old and tattered, and titled Children of Men.

"Glad you both could make it." He swivels his chair around as he greets us. "You look like a pair of kids in the principal's office. Try not to feel so tense, I'm here to help."

Capa and I sit down in silence. I want the comfort of his hand in mine, but somehow it feels wrong to do it in front of Searle.

"So, do either of you have anything to say, or will I start things off?"

Capa and I exchange a glance. I shake my head. Capa looks as if he is about to say something, but he bites his lip and stays silent.

"Alright." Searle raises his eyebrows. "I guess I'll just get it out of the way and say that I've known about you two for a while."

"How...?" Capa frowns as we exchange a glance.

"Well, you're not exactly subtle about it, are you?" He sculls the last of his decaf and winces. "God, I miss real coffee. Anyway, I know you're trying to hide it, but I don't know how long you expect that to last."

"We're just worried about how everyone's going to take it." I wring my hands.

"I wouldn't worry about that. Whatever tensions come up can be ironed out with a mediator." Searle's face softens. "But we need to think about whether you should tell anyone at all. I suggest you tell Kaneda, so he can work with me to reduce friction if things get hairy between the two of you."

"I can't imagine that happening." Capa says.

"Well, you think that now, but it's not always that straightforward. For instance, if this is just a friends with benefits situation, I think you ought to keep it to yourselves until it fizzles out; but beyond that, you should consider the risks. We're going to be stuck here for another two years at least, so it'll be hard on all of us if things go wrong between you two."

I look over at Capa and he offers me his hand. After a moment of hesitation, I take it.

"It's not like that for us." He assures him.

"It didn't just happen overnight." I squeeze his hand. "Well, it kind of did, but it was a long time coming."

"You're really serious about this, huh? I figured as much." Searle grins at Capa. "You've been smiling so much, it was kinda scaring me."

Capa rolls his eyes, a warm tint rising on his cheeks

"Doctor Aldrin," Searle addresses me directly, suddenly serious. "I want to make it clear to you that I don't doubt your ability to carry out your medic and psych duties under these circumstances, but I think it would be in everyone's best interests if you're no longer assigned as mediator in conflicts involving Capa."

"I agree. I'll be the first to admit I have a bias here. I guess I didn't take my training seriously enough."

"Training isn't perfect." He assures me. "You can try to rationalize your feelings away, but it won't work. It can't work. People are built to love. We do it to survive, so really, it's going to happen whether it's convenient or not."

I turn to look at Capa, feeling sunshine beaming into me from his radiant blue eyes. He offers me a smile and runs his thumb over my knuckles.

"So what should we do moving forward?" He presses.

"Well that's up to you. You can take people aside and tell them if you feel that's going to be beneficial, or you can just start acting like a couple and the crew will figure it out themselves. You could even call a meeting, sit everyone down real serious." Searle chuckles. "Either way, I imagine you'll get a little pushback to begin with."

"From Mace?" Capa asks.

"Yes, I expect he'll argue that a relationship between you two will distract you from the mission, but ultimately jealously on his and Cassie's part will be contributing factors."

"Cassie? Jealous?" I gasp.

I have worked with Cassie often during our voyage through the solar system, and over that time I've grown to enjoy our time together and to admire her free spirit. Despite this, I have sensed a distance between her and I, and now I know why. Mace, on the other hand, wears his heart on his sleeve. I have long known of his feelings for me, and for a time I tried to see him in the same light that he sees me. At the time, it seemed that my fondness for Capa was nothing short of futile, but even in my hopelessness, I knew that Mace and I would never work together.

"Yes, she's come to me several times to discuss her feelings for Capa." Searle frowns sympathetically. "I've done my best to help her cope without encouraging her. I feel that your relationship will be a tough hurdle for her to get over, but I think it will help her to build resilience. Same with Mace. It's quite tragic, really. They want you, and you want each other."

Feeling more than a little morose, I glance at Capa and squeeze his hand. He understands my signal and clears his throat.

"Thanks for the advice, Searle." The men exchange a handshake in mutual admiration.

"Thank you." I peck him on the cheek, earning a delighted grin. "Your opinion is invaluable."

Doc's Character Profile - word count: 322

Metrodora "Doc" Aldrin - Medic

Nationality - Australian

Doc grew up academically gifted, graduating from highschool at fifteen and moving to the United States to study medicine in the Ivy League at her parents' behest. Pursuing her childhood fascination with space, she went on to specialise in aeronautical medicine, eventually gaining a position in the same research lab as Searle where they became fast friends.

Doc was too young to accompany the first Icarus mission, but in the years following, she became obsessed with space travel and sought out a position on the Icarus II.

Seeing her passion and potential as an asset on board, Searle helped her mask her anxiety and depression during the psychiatric evaluation, vowing to help her overcome her issues in the years they would spend living together.

Doc holds a maternal view of her crewmates, despite being the youngest on board. She makes a point of fostering personal bonds with each of the crew, both to keep tabs on their health and because she craves human connection. She loves her crew like family and hopes that during the mission they with both grow as people, and grow to appreciate eachother the way she does.

Though she does not consider herself a natural conversationalist, she often draws closed-off people out of their shells due to her willingness to share personal feelings and experiences with people soon after meeting them. It is this mutual honesty that both Mace and Capa fell for, though Mace's feelings come from being listened to, while Capa's come from the act of listening.

Doc lives happily without religion, feeling comfortable that her success is self-made and her fate is in her own hands. The closest thing to God in her eyes is the life-giving power of the sun. As Icarus draws closer to the sun's surface, she wonders if this comparison is still metaphorical.

At night she dreams of the vastness of space, and of Capa.

[mysticficti0n]

All my attention Part 10

warnings- swearing, kissing, slight-teasing

words- 1.9k

If you'd like to read the previous parts → All my attention series

a/n- so if you're new here I am British and cannot speak any German, I speak a little French, Spanish and Italian but German- no. I also do not trust Google translate so this is gonna be like an avatar thing (if you've seen the newest one Jake says that their language just became normal or something along those lines) so in reality this is all in German, you as a reader know German but, its wrote in English... make sense? no... oh well

(I'm so sorry I've not done one of these in fucking ages but I've been so caught up in things and tomorrow is my sister birthday so this last week we've been doing things for her!)

┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━┑ backstory- you are the 5th member of Tokio Hotel and you always thought the love was equally platonic between you and a certain guitarist... but what if that all changed?

Bill's words stuck with me the whole day- what were we now? I didn't have a title for us and neither did Tom so we looked blankly "it's a bit early to tell yet" I spoke curling my lips between my teeth, Bill rolled his eyes and stood up heading to the front door

"well when you decide, tell me" and he left leaving me and his brother sat, Tom just smiled warmly to me, his arm hooked around my waist and we fell back into the seat his face finding it's way to the crook of my neck

"can we stay like this for a while" he spoke into my skin "you're so warm" I hummed a laugh while drawing shapes onto his shoulder "sorry that happened by the way..."

"it's okay" he breathed "I can't believe he found you" I giggled feeling a smile spread across Tom's lips "but I guess it's not to bad him knowing- it's if the press see or fans or just anyone besides a few close people" we sat cuddled up for a while, speaking small sentences and keeping each other warm and comforted until the time rolled around and Tom had to leave

"I'll call you tonight" we stood at the front door, arms wrapped around each others waist "you'll have to tell me about what you did for the rest of the day"

"well I could probably tell you right now- I'll be sat in my room reading a magazine then falling asleep, fun right?" the dreaded boy laughed pressing a kiss to my head

"thrilling- right I actually gotta go now, love you" I pulled his head and our lips connected, a hum of pleasure came from his lips "I fucking love that I can do this now" he kissed one last time before saying goodbye and running back to his own house, I shut my door and stood In the hall thinking over the last day- so much has happened

┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━┑

"it was wonderful sweetheart! I didn't know you could cook so well" my dad grinned collecting all our plates "tasted just like nana's"

"well I thought I'd try it out as a surprise for you all coming home- what do you think Stella?" the little girl clapped her hands with a huge gummy smile across her sauce covered lips "good?"

"yeah!" she laughed as mom lifted her from her seat to clear her up "momma good?"

"it was, sunshine it was great! you'll have to cook more" I rolled my eyes playfully at my mother as she patted my shoulder walking by "right well I need to give Stell a bath- oh y/n could you do me a job, pop next door and ask if they have...oh whats the word?" my mom stood bouncing my sister on her hip

"your dress by any chance love?" my dad spoke pausing from washing the dishes

"yes yes! my yellow dress, tell Simone I'll pay her tomorrow" I nodded standing from my seat and grabbing my hoodie off the stairs, I grabbed my keys and went out, cutting across the lawn and jumping the wall over to their house, I went straight to the door and did my special knock, I herd a few shouts before a groan and the door flew open

"yeah- oh Y/n!" I saw Tom stood holding a bottle of coke in one hand and the door in the other "hey babe" he came out shutting the door behind him and pressing a kiss to my lips "what are you doing here?"

"hey I've come to get moms dress, that yellow one" he nodded re-opening the door and holding it for me, I walked in to see the Kaulitz's huddled round a table covered in monopoly "hello"

"Bill no you cant-hi sweets, you okay?" Simone asked coming over "wait let me guess- your mothers wedding dress? well wedding guest dress" I nodded "follow me" Tom smiled letting me follow his mom up the steps and him closely behind "it should be a better length now, if not tell her bring it back"

"it looks amazing, moms going to look beautiful- oh she told me to say she'll give you the money for it tomorrow" I watched Simone sigh giving the dress over

"your bloody mother- she's not paying me, I know she wouldn't make me pay. anyways; whats your dress like I herd it's a dark purple one right?" she asked sitting herself on her bed

"yeah it goes to my ankles, I have these black shoes to wear but the dress its self is like purple in one light then a blue shine? I guess you could call it that- kinda iridescent"

"you'll match Tom's tie! you two could go as a date" I turn to the boy who was already looking to me "Bill can take.. well I don't know" she trailed off as the two off us laughed at her words

"we could love" Tom elbowed my side and his moms eyes shot up "erm anyways- whats Stella wearing Y/n?" he tried to ignore his mothers gaze but I could already hear her words

"whats going on between you two?" she raised an eyebrow and a hot flush lay across my cheeks "Oh! I see- Bill was right then" she rubbed our shoulders then walked out with a small giggle

"right so mom now knows..." Tom huffed chewing his cheek

"its okay, I mean maybe its good? we said we'd only really let close friends and family know- bit earlier then we planned but" I rested a hand on his clenched one and felt him relax "it's gonna be okay"

"I love you Y/n" his free hand cupped my jaw bringing me close to him bar a few inches "so much" I pushed forward connecting our lips "fuck" he groaned arms moving to circle my body, his mouth moved down to my neck to my sweet spot

"Tom- no not there" I hummed trying push him away not that I didn't enjoy it, I was terrified his family would hear "To-ahh-Tom please" he pulled away with a smirk "such a idiot"

"aww" he purred tucking loose hair behind my ear "can't take it?"

"sure if you wanna think that but I'm going home now" I laughed trying to walk out the room but felt a hand grab my wrist "Tom!" he pulled me back jabbing his fingers into my side making laugh as it tickled "TOM STOP!" I cried falling to the floor throwing the dress to the side while trying to kick him away "STO-HAHA PLEASE STOP" He finally stopped helping me back up and kissing the corner of my mouth "fuck off being all lovely now- I'm going" I got the dress and walked out the room back down the stairs were Bill was giggling along with his mom

"okay Y/n" the black haired boy grinned

"goodbye" I walked out the house hearing the laughing begin again and I couldn't help but join in, I mean the whole thing was crazy I guess. I made it home giving the dress over and getting ready for bed as we had practice for a show soon and have to be there for 8 so I showered, shaved, did skin care, cleaned the bathroom and in no time it was 1:24am- I sat on my bed re-painting my nails before my phone started to ring saying Gustav "hm" I grabbed my cell and answered "Gus?"

"hellllooooo Y/n/n we need you're help especially Georg- he wants you" he sung

"huh! whats up with you?" the boy giggled before the phone was ripped from his hands "oh"

"hey Y/n" it was Georg "Give me the phone- erm sorry about that but ah... have you by any chance got time to come to..- Georg give me my fucking phone you asshole- I don't know the name.. okay its the bar by McDonalds and get me and Gustav?- Georg I.... I don't feel good- or get Tom to get us, we can't get a fucking cab and" Georg was interrupted by a heaving sound then splat "ON MY FUCKING SHOES YOU CUNT REALLY?" I began laughing "FUCK OFF OVER THERE- ima kill him"

I couldn't hold back my laugh hearing the angriness of the bassist "I'll get Tom to come get you because I don't drive yet but, I'll make the spare room up for you guys" a quick thanks was said before the line ended and I found Tom's number

"hey.. what's- whats up?" his voice was sleepy and I mean it was 1:30 almost

"hi so erm... Georg and Gustav need you to pick them up from the bar next to McDonalds- like now" I herd him groan but then the shuffling of bed sheets and his feet dragging

"I'll meet you in the car babe" I laughed but he was serious

"I'm not coming I need to get the spare room ready for the two"

"I'll be waiting" and he ended the call 'great'

┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━┑

"this is fucking stupid- why couldn't you guys walk to Y/n's instead of making me get up as well and drive to get your asses?" Tom scolded as the two clambered into the back

"well it was Georg's idea, he wanted to see Y/n" I herd a slap then a shrub from the bassist "what?!"

"dickhead" Georg grumbled staring out into the black streets, I saw Tom's jaw become tight, eyes narrower

"just say it dude- come on" Gus whispered erring another punch

"say what?" Tom turned back as we stopped at a red light "what's gotta be said?" he looked deadly, the red hue from outside making his features more intimidating

"Tom" I called giving him a 'look' but he ignored it "leave it they're drunk" I spoke just quiet enough for him to hear

"nothing has to be said man- he's bringing up shit" Georg protested, the lights switched and the guitarist turned back around giving me an angry look

"can you just take us home now" I asked turning to him, his body tense, knuckles like white mountains on his hands

"I'll fucking find out"

we made it home and the two boys had to help Gustav into the bed, quietly I stood watching Tom tuck in the drummer with an annoyed frown "thanks for this Y/n" Georg smiled nudging me "I'm sorry for what that dick was saying- his on a hole different world I promise I didn't wanna see you.. No no not that but- tell you what" the brunette rubbed my arm gently before walking away into the room nodding at Tom before getting in the bed. me and Tom tip toed into my room, shutting the door silently

"what did he say to you?" he spoke perching himself on the edge of my bed, I stood between his legs playing with his loose dreads

"that Gus is on his own planet and he didn't want to see me, but not like in a rude way but he gave up talking to me and just went to bed" Tom huffed resting his head on my stomach "you were a bit angry earlier Kaulitz?"

"of course I would be- don't want anyone acting like that toward my girlfri-" he stopped himself looking up to me and I couldn't stop the smile from forming on my face and nor could he "my girlfriend.. you... Y/n will you be my girlfriend?" I nodded whispering yes repeatedly "good" he spoke before our lips linked and I fell onto him, straddling him, his hands perched for a place to rest before getting comfy on my hips "love you baby"

"I love you too"

[transmutationisms]

so i read the hp lovecraft short stories that the film ‘re-animator’ was based on (internet archive link) and the answer is yes, the source material is openly and deliberately racist, and it is not coincidental or accidental that the film so clearly recalls the history of american medical schools obtaining human cadavers through various deeply unethical means, esp the bodies of enslaved black people in the south. the lovecraft stories were serialised in the magazine ‘home brew’ in 1921–22 and are neither very long nor very good, but a few points of interest stood out to me:

both wikipedia and the encyclopedia britannica attribute the ‘modern’ zombie largely to george romero’s 1960s films; in ‘the undead eighteenth century’, linda troost suggested only that zombies appeared in literature as early as 1967 and were described as spirits or ghosts, not cannibalistic monsters. however, although lovecraft never uses the word “zombie” in “herbert west—reanimator”, i think it is fair to draw a clear connection from the haitian mythology to his story of reanimated, violent, cannibalistic bodies. because lovecraft was simultaneously satirising and paying tribute to “frankenstein”, the anxieties in the stories centre around the narrator’s discomfort with west’s materialist view of life, his fanatical devotion to scientific experiment, and the idea that living matter is only distinguished by accidents of matter and function, rather than by the operation of a divinely given soul. thus, when the narrator describes the outcomes of his and west’s experiments as “unthinkable automata” (30) we ought to understand this as a relatively early (again, these stories ran between 1921 and 22) example of american literature invoking the haitian zombie to work out a strikingly different set of social anxieties than enslaved africans in haiti did. in lovecraft’s stories, then, the medical students’ literal reanimations of stolen (sometimes murdered) bodies are almost themselves symbolic of lovecraft’s own deployment of the zombie myth, transposed into the context of debates about materialism, vitalism, and the nature of life and consciousness.

speaking of the cannibalism, yes, it is racialised. although the re-animated bodies exist largely out of view of either the narrator or west, and thus we cannot say for sure what they are or aren’t eating, the confirmed act of cannibalism is specifically attributed to a black re-animated man described as “gorilla-like ... [with] a face that conjured up thoughts of unspeakable congo secrets and tom-tom poundings under an eerie moon” (14) and later “a glassy-eyed, ink-black apparition nearly on all fours, covered with bits of mould, leaves, and vines, foul with caked blood” (16–17). this is the scene in which he is discovered eating a white infant: “a snow-white, terrible, cylindrical object terminating in a tiny hand” (17). he is consistently referred to as “cannibalistic” throughout the rest of the story, emphasised to be violent and dangerous. he, along with the other re-animated people, eventually joins a kind of re-animated army led by west’s own former army (wwi) commander, who is now headless (also re-animated); this ‘army’ eventually kills west. thus, west’s body-snatching and literal possession of the stolen bodies are flipped around, as the bodies develop allegiance to one another and then invert west’s violence against them: where he forced them to live again, they directly cause him to die. because this is lovecraft, though, the re-animated bodies existing and developing agency is the central horror of the story, even despite the unflattering portrayal of west; this is actually translated pretty accurately into the film sequel ‘bride of re-animator’ as a scene in which their version of the undead ‘army’ rampages through west’s backyard/cemetery, and we are treated to extensive shots of the bodies writhing, spasming, and seizing, in ways that simultaneously telegraph disability and (what is framed as) terrifying strength.

there are at least flashes throughout the stories of racialisation of the re-animated bodies occurring precisely on the grounds of having been re-animated: for example, of an early (white) re-animation experiment, the narrator reports that it was “like a malformed ape”, and lovecraft writes:  “For it had been a man. This much was clear despite the nauseous eyes, the voiceless simianism, and the daemoniac savagery” (11). thus, the fact of having been re-animated is itself what gives this white body its simian / ape-like qualities—descriptions which are of course racialised in american literature in general, and specifically in this series (see above).

in connection with lovecraft’s racism, the stories frequently engage in generalised physiognomical efforts to read a person’s moral character and personality from their physical appearance. this includes overtly racialised traits (west is described as blond and blue-eyed numerous times, an appearance that hides his "diabolical” machinations and “fanaticism” [7, 18], and contrasts to both his morbid fascinations [3] and to a “brawny young workman” with brown hair whom he re-animates [5]). there is also a link raised multiple times between nervous sensitivity and physical strength: one specimen is “a man at once physically powerful and of such high mentality that a sensitive nervous system was assured”, and west seeks out specifically “men of especially sensitive brain and especially vigorous physique” (25, 27).

although lovecraft’s stories are hardly making any manner of radical critique, they also contain flashes of tacit admission that west’s experiments, although cosmetically off-putting to the medical establishment, are not in fact diverging in deeper ways from ‘normal’ functioning of these institutions. for example, in the first installment, as the narrator and west attempt to secure a supply of fresh corpses from christchurch cemetery, the narrator notes that “we found that the college had first choice in every case” (4), a remark that for the modern reader alludes to the true and extensive history of american medical schools and anthropology departments purchasing or simply snatching cadavers and anatomical specimens (in recent years there have been a few high-profile cases of attempts at repatriation of skull and other collections). later, when re-animating buck robinson, the aforementioned black man, the narrator notes that “our prize ... was wholly unresponsive to every solution we injected in its black arm; solutions prepared from experience with white specimens only” (15). this remark has two major implications: one, lovecraft’s narrator is endorsing a view of physiology that assumes black and white bodies function essentially differently, ie that the white and black ‘races’ are intrinsically and undeniably biologically different to one another (this viewpoint is never challenged or questioned throughout the text); two, that lovecraft specifically portrayed medical students who experimented on white bodies, an echo of the medical schools’ focus on white patients and white health, with black bodies treated as more disposable, black patients as less valuable, and the entire medical endeavour aimed toward the preservation of wealthy white people and plantation owners (nb: west worked out of boston).

although the films and the stories both take a somewhat whimsical tone toward their subject matter, i found it hard to engage with the films on a genuinely comedic level largely because these elements of the lovecraft stories are still present. i do think the concept here (white medical students body-stealing, and forcing a partial and torturous version of ‘life’ upon those bodies) has quite a bit of potential as a horror premise; unfortunately, both lovecraft and the filmmakers approach this subject matter in ways that attempt to mine comedy and horror from it without thinking through the larger historical context they are clearly and explicitly invoking, and as a result the whole thing falls flat for me. 

[peaceisadirtyword]

Pull the Trigger VI (Modern!Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hello! This was one of the hardest chapters I’ve ever written because of a personal experience that still haunts me until today. It has conditioned my way of socialising and it has prevented me from doing many things, and it’s something I’ll carry for the rest of my life. Unfortunately this is way more common than we’d ever think, and sometimes it’s very obvious but it can also go unnoticed. It’s not my intention by any means to romanticise this kind of situations, as it’s a nightmare I wish no one had to live. Most of the times we don’t have someone to protect us like they do in this fic, it’s a shame but it’s also a reality and I think we as a society don’t do enough to stop these kind of situations from happening. We need to let the victims speak, empathise with them and punish the perpetrators. And learn that no means no, and that when there’s not a yes it’s also no, and when the other person tries to escape it’s also no, and that it’s also a no when they’re under the influence of alcohol, drugs or under compulsion. In one word: consent. 

This said, even if it’s just a very small part of what I have to say, I hope you like this chapter. Thank you so much for reading and for all of the nice comments♥️ You guys rock. 

Warnings: +18! this chapter contains a scene that includes sexual assault, alcohol consumption, drugging and non-consent, please do not read if this is a triggering subject for you, I tried to make it as short and undetailed as possible, but it’s still a very sensitive topic. As a victim of SA myself I completely understand if it’s too much. Please take care and be safe. In case you suffer an attack like this please  go to the hospital as soon as possible, I won’t tell you whether you should talk about it or not because that’s very personal and no one should tell you what to do when you’re a victim. You are not alone and it’s not your fault♥️ please be safe and take care of your loved ones🫶🏼

Words: 3639

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“I can’t believe you are leaving me alone for a man again” you pouted while stepping out of the shower, Thora smiled softly at you through the bathroom mirror. She had a pair of tweezers on her hands and scrutinised her own reflection, looking for the little hairs under her eyebrow that had escaped.

“You’ll be fine, Ingrid is going with you” she chuckled “Do you want to borrow my silver purse? It goes very well with the blue dress”

Your eyes lightened up at that. You loved that purse.

“You’re trying to bribe me with a purse?”

“I’m not trying, I’m bribing you with a purse” she smirked “Besides, I’m in a very good mood today”

You started drying your hair with the towel, glancing at her curiously.

“How so?“

Thora’s face lightened up with a smile when she looked at you, almost like she had been waiting to tell you for days.

“Hvitserk is cooking dinner for me”

You rolled your eyes.

“So he’s doing the bare minimum, good for him, what does he want in exchange?”

“I’m going to ignore that because I’m in a very good mood” she repeated “He’s cooking for me at his house, he says we need to talk”

You widened your eyes.

“I think he might want to be exclusive” Thora continued, giggling.

“What? He probably does that with every single girl he meets, Thora!“ you groaned, and her smile faltered “Look, I want you to be happy, but do you think you can be happy with someone that is always on the magazine covers because he fucks every single person he can?”

Thora sighed, grabbing her makeup and turning to the mirror again.

“I know what you think of him, Y/N, but you don’t know him like I do” she pressed her lips together “And if Hvitserk asks me to be his girlfriend tonight I will say yes, because I really like him, and if he turns up to be a fucking idiot that is only playing with me, then I will come to you so you can tell me ‘I told you’ with a condescending tone and I will let you take care of me, because I know you will because you’re my best friend”

You bit your lip, suddenly feeling guilty for having yelled at her. You had tried your best to try and like the Lothbroks, for her sake, but the mere thought of those privileged, cocky, handsome bastards, especially the one with those piercing blue eyes that wouldn’t leave your mind, made your blood boil. You hated that every single person just succumbed to their charms, ignoring the obvious red flags of their family.

“Okay” you sighed, making Thora smile a bit “But if he breaks your heart I will follow him until the end of the world, I will kill him and I will feed him to stray dogs”

Thora laughed then, shaking her head as she moved to hug you tightly.

“And I will join you in your anti-Lothbrok campaign” she promised with a giggle.

“Anyway” you finally stepped back “I better get dressed or I’ll be late”

Thora watched you grab your makeup bag and open the door to leave the bathroom.

“Hey” she said just when you were stepping out, making you look back with a small smile “If anything happens when you’re at Erik’s place… Please call me, okay? I know Ingrid will be there but please if you need something call me”

“Don’t tell me you believe the rumours, Thora” you groaned “Why do you listen to them more than to me?”

“No, just… Just call me, okay?”

You sighed, nodding.

“Fine, I will”

________________________________

Erik's place was not far from your own, a two-storey house he shared with another guy. It was already full of people when you arrived with an excited Ingrid following you, talking about how nice it was that both of her best friends had nice boyfriends that always invited her to places. You recognized some people from university, but most of the guys that were there you had no idea of who they were. Some of them had a weird vibe around them that immediately threw you off. The worst part was finding Erik with a bunch of them, drinking and laughing loudly while they played pool.

“It's nice to see you, beautiful" Erik leant in again to kiss you but you put your cheek instead with a forced smile. You had been a bit uneasy about this party since you got invited, and for some reason seeing the company he had there only made you turn around and leave.

Besides, Thora's news about Hvitserk maybe wanting to make it official only put a weird weight on your stomach.

“Hi" you greeted him, trying to move away from him as Erik kept his arms around you, finding your rejection amusing. Ingrid bit her lip and looked around, visibly uncomfortable, and grabbed your arm as soon as you were free from his grip.

“I thought you'd never come, would you like some drinks, ladies?" he smirked at the both of you and you nodded slowly, knowing you needed alcohol to deal with all of that. Ingrid looked around trying to find a familiar face, and sighed in relief when she spotted two girls she knew.

“I'll be right back" Erik winked at you, and Ingrid quickly reassured him that she didn't need a drink, for she had found two friends and would go say hello on her way to grab a less strong drink. Her last phrase was said with her eyes fixed on the glass Erik had on his hand, which was pure alcohol.

As soon as the two of them left, you looked around again, feeling more and more uneasy with every single look people casted your way. The group of guys Erik was talking to looked older. One of them, the tallest one, was blonde and had a weird tattoo on his cheek, his hair was long and greasy and his beard was badly maintained, with it having bald patches. His clothes were in a better shape, though you hoped he washed it more than he did himself. Around him, his gang was no better- all of them had ugly tattoos and looked as mean and cruel as him. It nearly made you shiver when he looked you up and down, and you almost groaned in relief when Erik came back with a full glass of alcohol for you.

“Don't mind them" he chuckled, shaking his head “They're old friends of my dad, they're like family to me but they were leaving already" he shook his head. Almost like they had heard him, the blonde man stood up and walked towards the exit, not before casting a last look at Erik. Waving them goodbye, he let his arm fall on your shoulders as soon as you had grabbed your own glass.

“They don't exactly look like someone people would like to party with" you muttered. Erik laughed.

“You're right, I guess!" he was maybe too cheerful, and that made you raise an eyebrow before thinking it could be the alcohol “Aren't you going to try your drink? It's one of my father's best whiskeys... But don't tell anyone, I'm afraid I don't have enough whiskey for all of them"

You sniffed the liquid before wrinkling your nose.

“A bit strong, isn't it?"

“Yeah, that's what makes it good" he chuckled again.

Finally gaining enough courage to take a sip, you started coughing almost immediately. Maybe you didn't know how to appreciate a good glass of whiskey, but that was probably the worst drink you had ever tried.

“Come on, I thought you were a girl that could handle her alcohol!" Erik seemed very amused by your struggling, and you had to try your best to avoid glaring at him or emptying the cup on his face.

But, on second thoughts, strong alcohol was exactly what you needed if you were to stand his repulsive behaviour for the entire night.

Taking a bigger sip, you ignored Erik's laughs and looked around the room for Ingrid, who was nowhere to be found, and cursed when you realised you didn't know anyone close to you that could give you a break from Erik's insistence.

Almost an hour and a few more sips later, your head started feeling a bit more light. Closing your eyes and rubbing them carefully not to ruin your makeup, you realised Erik had stopped laughing, and his hands were now roaming down your body.

“Hey" you slapped his hand away when he was approaching your ass, pressing your lips together “Who said you have permission to touch?"

He giggled, not really impressed by what you thought was a scolding tone.

“Where's your friend?" he kissed your cheek “The one so close to the Lothbroks? I thought you'd bring her, did she ditch you to go and fuck Hvitserk again?"

“Thora?" you frowned, a bit confused because it was the first time Erik had shown any interest in her “I don't know" you lied “She just said she couldn't come, I didn't really ask, she's old enough to do so... Hey, can you stop that? We're in the middle of a room with other people here, it's not polite to just start... Touching people in public like that"

Again, he looked amused, but you were about to reach the point of slapping him across his face.

“We can go somewhere more private, if you'd prefer..."

“No, I just need some air" you said softly, feeling a bit more light-headed every minute that passed.

“Sure" he smiled softly at you “I know somewhere we can get some air, come on"

Before you could react, he pushed you towards the stairs, grabbing your hand to pull you upstairs, away from the noise, the heat and the people. A bit confused, you followed him not really knowing where he intended to go. Something inside you was screaming to run back downstairs, find Ingrid and leave that house that made you so uneasy, but you were feeling a bit more tired than you would usually be having drank only half a glass of alcohol, and you thought a bit of air would do you good.

“Wouldn’t it be better if we went outside?” you muttered, looking back down the stairs. Your mouth felt weird, almost like you couldn’t pronounce the words properly “To get air”

“No, there will be too many people at the door” he chuckled “Come on, don’t you trust me?”

You didn’t reply, frowning when your head started feeling lighter. You definitely hadn’t drank enough to feel like that.

Erik opened a door and pushed you in. A bit confused, you looked around, but before you could say anything you heard him closing the door.

It was a bedroom. At that moment, you couldn’t really tell whether it was Erik’s bedroom or not nor you noticed any detail that could give you a clue of why he had brought you there.

“This is not a balcony” you managed to mumble before trying to open the door again. Erik laughed again, stopping you and pushing you back almost making you lose your balance.

“Come on” he grabbed your wrists, making sure you were completely still before kissing you. Shocked, you couldn’t register what was happening as your brain seemed to be way slower. It was almost like you had a fog on your eyes, but you could feel his lips against yours and his hands roaming up and down your body. You didn’t like it. You didn’t want him touching you. You didn’t give him permission to touch you like that.

He took advantage of your hesitation to push you towards the bed. You made a couple of weak attempts to free yourself from his grip, but every time you tried to move any part of your body it felt like you had a cement block attached to it. You remembered one of your first university parties, when you got so wasted you and Ingrid slept in the campus turf because you couldn’t even walk.

But that time you had drunk for hours straight.

“Wait” you managed to say, closing your eyes tightly. The light of the room hurt your eyes “Stop”

Erik didn’t reply, or if he did you didn’t hear it. He kept kissing down your neck, grabbing your dress to put it up. The moment his cold hand touched your leg under the dress you whimpered in discomfort, and wiggled your body to make him stop touching you.

“Stop” you repeated. Erik only tightened his grip around your wrists when you tried to push him away again “No” you almost begged when his hand reached between your legs.

You stayed still, trying to clear your mind from that stupid fog that clouded everything, but only when he let one of your arms go to unbuckle his trousers did you push him aside. Erik lost his balance and fell, cursing out loud. You stood up as quickly as you could, barely escaping his arms when he tried to catch you. You found the door, opening it with the last bit of strength you had. And ran down the hallway towards the stairs.

________________________

Thora looked around, amazed. The entire Lothbrok’s living room had changed, only one corner of the table was set, but there were candles, flowers and the smell of food and wine made her mouth water. Hvitserk looked very sexy in an apron, much more than she had ever thought. The only downside? Hvitserk’s brothers hanging out in the kitchen and eating part of the dinner.

Her smile didn’t falter, though, Hvitserk looked pretty nervous and their presence calmed him down, even though he acted like he was very annoyed.

Her phone vibrated, and she looked away from Ubbe, who was telling a story from the office, to check her screen. Her frown was what grabbed the boy’s attention.

“Everything okay?” Hvitserk’s hand on her lower back made her smile again instantly.

“Yes, I think so” after glancing back at the screen again, she locked the phone and left it on the counter, picking up her wine glass again “It’s just Ingrid, apparently Y/N doesn’t reply to her messages and she just sent one on the group chat. She does that sometimes, reads the messages and forgets to reply so we have to send her multiple messages so she sees the notifications and replies” she explained quickly “They’re at a party together, but she’s probably talking to someone and didn’t check her phone”

“Talking? Probably spreading hate towards us” Ivar opened his mouth for the first time since he arrived. Thora pressed her lips together. She felt the need to defend her friend, but Ivar still intimidated her.

“Not us, brother, probably just you” Hvitserk giggled.

“Alfred told me you made her upset the other day in class” Ubbe glanced at his youngest brother with a stern face.  

“Yes, well, she insulted me” he scoffed “He insulted Hvitserk and our family, she’s been doing that for a while now and someone had to make her stop”

Thora opened her mouth. Ivar’s eyes fixed on her, almost defying her to say something.

“I like her, to be honest” Hvitserk shrugged, refilling his wine glass “She’s not afraid of you, she’s not lining up to lick our ass like half of this damned city, she has some courage”.

“Y/N is very… Passionate, she has strong principles” Thora smiled at him “She doesn’t actually hate any of you, she’s just taking care of me, she’s very protective and loyal, she’s an amazing friend and if you give her a chance you’ll see it”.

“If she gives us a chance, you mean” Ivar rolled his eyes “She thinks she knows us after reading four articles in magazines, she’s done nothing but judge us”

Sigurd chuckled then, shaking his head.

“She might not be so wrong about you, brother”

Ivar hummed, and the glare he threw his brother's way made Thora shiver.

“I guess we’ll see in the future, brother”

Hvitserk rolled his eyes and put his arm around her shoulders.

“In any case, I’d love to start again with her, why don’t you tell her to drop by for a couple of drinks after dinner? Tell Ingrid to come too, if she wants”

“Oh, I’d love to” Thora smiled “But they’re at Erik’s place, he was throwing a party and invited Y/N… After practically assaulting her in public, but in any case…”

“Wait, she went to that asshole’s party?” Ivar clenched his jaw, and Thora was startled when he left his glass on the counter very abruptly “Wow, she is stupid”

“Ivar…” Ubbe scolded him again “Leave her alone”

“Maybe Erik actually likes her” Hvitserk raised an eyebrow “He didn’t hurt her yet, did he?”

“Yet?” Thora widened her eyes.

“He doesn’t like her, he just wants to fuck her and she’s stupid enough to fall into his trap…”

“Enough, Ivar” Hvitserk interrupted him, sighing “If they are bored at that lame party tell them to come here, I’m sure Ivar would love it if he could have someone to argue with tonight”.

Ivar rolled his eyes again, and Thora smiled softly, just before her phone vibrated again.

Ingrid was calling. Immediately, her heart started beating faster. She would never call her knowing she was on a date, not unless something had happened.

She excused herself quickly, walking a few steps away from the brothers before picking up.

“Ingrid?”

“Thora” her friend gasped, almost like she just did a great effort “I need help”

“What?” she raised her voice softly, which made the boys look at her “What’s happening?”

“It’s Y/N… Look, I went upstairs looking for her because I couldn’t find her. and I didn’t see Erik either, so I went there to look for them because I had a bad feeling and… I think someone put something in her drink, she’s… Dizzy and when I found her she was leaving Erik’s bedroom, he was inside but he’s perfectly fine… I don’t know what to do, should I take her to the hospital?”

Thora froze. She left the glass on the counter as softly as she could and rubbed her eyes, probably ruining her makeup. She turned to look at Hvitserk and the panic in her eyes made him approach her with a worried frown, if she had looked at Ivar she would have seen him sitting up and looking at her with a frown.

“Y/N… She’s been drinking… Probably a spiked drink, she’s not okay I need to go there with Ingrid and take her to the hospital”

“Fuck” Hvitserk groaned “That fucking son of a bitch”

“Ingrid, I’ll be there as soon as I can, don’t leave her alone” Thora quickly locked her phone again and reached for her purse, still not knowing what to do.

“I knew it” Ivar looked furious, and then punched the wood under the counter that crackled under his fist “I’m gonna kill that fucking clown, I’m gonna…”

“Ivar” Ubbe grabbed his arm before he put whatever he had inside the pocket of his jacket out “Don’t fool around, go with Thora and Hvitserk if you want, I’ll wait here for you and I’ll call Helga, just bring her here, don’t start anything with Erik in his own house and with more people around, is that clear?”

Thora wasn’t sure Ivar had even heard him, as he was busy grabbing his crutch and taking his phone out to make a call.

“I… I can go alone, you guys don’t have to…”

“Are you kidding?” Hvitserk smiled softly at her “I wouldn’t leave my girl alone in a moment like this, now let’s go, we’ll go in my car”

Thora froze again, her face blushed and she bit her lip to hold back a smile.

“Did you just call me…?”

“Are you coming or what?” Ivar roared from the door, which startled her but also reminded her of the seriousness of the situation.

Ivar was already entering the car when they made their way outside. Hvitserk kissed Thora's temple before she climbed into one of the backseats as he made his way to the driver's seat. She could only hear Ivar's growls and heavy breathing for a few seconds, and she stared at him in shock. It was true that she always suspected Ivar having a crush on you, maybe being a bit jealous of Erik and enjoying his banter with you because you were the only one willing to throw some insults his way, but the way he had spoken to you during class -and how upset you were after it, according to Alfred- had made her think his crush wasn't that serious and that you had really gotten on his nerves. But his reaction in the kitchen when she had said what happened to you wasn't the reaction of someone who couldn't care less about what happened to you.

“Do... Do you know where Erik lives?" she asked, realising she hadn't even asked Ingrid when she had called.

“Yes, don't worry gorgeous" Hvitserk smiled at her through the rearview mirror “We've been there a couple of times"

“Okay" she took a deep breath, letting her head rest against the headrest.

It wasn't that far from the Lothbrok's house. They had been only ten minutes in the car when Hvitserk finally stopped the car in front of a house full of people, with multiple windows opened and music coming from the inside. The front door was opened and some people stood on the entrance smoking and drinking. It was only when she stepped out of the car when she spotted Ingrid.

_______________________________________

Tags: @istorkyou @barnes-lothbrok @naaladareia @youbloodymadgenius @southernbe @yummycastiel @nothingtolosebutweight @noway4u @cdauni @heavenly1927 @ivarhoegh @biancathecool @helleiaiwritting @marvelsangels @ironynoticony​ @kenyadakblalock​ @mymindfuckery​ @alexa4040

[siremasterlawrence]

Lawrence’s Playground: Opening

“Bondage…Dominance…Master…Slave. All of that and anything your inner freak can imagine. Join us at Lawrence’s playground. We will fix you right up.” - Master Lawrence.

I read my new sensational store ad that will appear on rather don the cover of popular magazine, splash the newspaper ads, tv commercials, radio jingles and so much more.

The building literally in a small store in the midst of Queens, New York is quite boring on the outside but the inner area could truly rival the craziness of Manhattans window decorated stores.

I smirk walking inside the door automatically locks behind me as I turn my attention to the naked displays and the recruitment process that is unfolding for me. Thinking for a hot minute it hit me.

I snap my finger using my hand to stir with my finger spinning a portal into a new reality as a small herd young men exit the hole into my store and watch them stand in front of me.

My magical reinforcement moving assembly belt they roll out one after another former human beings now modified dolls ready and willing to be programmed to serve in any and all ways.

I spot one so fine I could not help but stare as he turns to me his neck so robotic walks over to me and he stood in motionless also rigid robotic motion but stares down at me with piercing eyes.

His eyes begin to scan mine taking a map like blue print of my mind, scanning my body to register everything with precise precision of every inch and slowly I begin to imprint on him.

His mind spins shutting down to reboot as my own even though I know it’s a natural meet where a slave instantly chooses his Master at first glance and he knew that automatically he is mine.

I can feel the energy burst through his body as he woke up in excitement a bright smile cover his face looking at me with love and devotion taking my right hand in his he sets it on.

The imprint is complete I command him to sit up on the floor then to kneel without any effort because he knew his place at my feet the man is mine project now for the longest time.

His eyes roll back coming down the changes have begun his hands settle on to my waist firmly and he yearns to kiss me feel my lips on his.

The rest stand motionless as I point for him to sit on the available chair then I pop onto his lap and face him soaking up all of the enjoyment in his body the hot heavy move of his soul connecting to me.

The assembly like moves ever forward onto the next station a new mold is made to be polished into perfect clear skin as I watch them from her.

I have no idea when the lot of them appear into the room setting up in the window and the rest of the store for display this business will be a smashing success I have no doubt in that matter.

“What is your name?”

“My name is Al”

“I am your Master Lawrence “

“Processing….processing”

“Master Lawrence “

“Good boi “

“Mmmmm…how may I please you?”

“I have great plans for you but for now”

“Yes Master”

“That main spot in the window that says not for sale.”

“I’ll go there and wait for your instructions”

“I will pick you up at lunch time”

“Yes, babe”

“You are statue”

“Yyyyyeeeesssss”

“Pretty Boi Pose”

“I will not regret this”

“Back to work “

“All of my products so obedient “

“Who is the next to succumb?”

“So many fine choices”

“Ripped”

“Hot”

“Work horse worthy “

The end

Lawrence’s Playground: The Defective

A week later thanks to a ridiculous massive successful opening weekend to the insane viral campaign I worked on the sale are in the thousands.

One night Al is fast asleep when the alarm for my storage facility is triggered causing me to speed down the block to the factory to find nothing is broken.

“Must be a defective alarm”

“I might as well check around”

“Who are you?”

“Eric! I think”

“You think?”

“I am confused”

“I can help you “

“Please….”

“Do you know who I am?”

I yell at the flash light hitting someone’s face except it is one of my creations standing in the middle of the area he is lost it’s pretty obvious.

I can see his pupils react zooming to inside and outside at unrecognized speed in a fast attempt checking me out it hits him his one true maker.

He is defective I offer my hand for him to be able to take in his he stares aimlessly then happily grabs it imprinting on me as he is instinctively almost imprinting before me .

“Your name is Eric”

“You are my slave “

“Yes Babe”

“You are no longer lost “

“You are not defective”

“I am at your mercy”

“Kneel for me”

“I am your everything “

“I will do whatever pleases you “

“Mmmmmmmm….Master”

“Yes boi”

“I love when you call me that “

“May I come home with you?”

“It’s your new home”

“Follow me”

“YES SIR”

“Head up the stairs”

“Zip your mouth”

“Wait here”

“Al this your brother”

“Yes bro”

“Both of your crawl to me”

“Yes Master”

“All worship my body “

“Eric kiss me”

“Perfect “

“Two tight bodies”

“Mmmmm”

“I am loving this “

“We hope so”

“Bend over “

“Let them swat that ass”

“As you wish “

The end

[bluestar22x]

Reunion

The Writing Contest - Chapter 4: Reunion

Summary: The premiere night of the movie based on Nora and Javi's screenplay changes everything and nothing at the same time.

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x Female!OC (Nora Delaine)

Rating: 18+ Series

Word Count: 3,100(ish)

Warnings: Romance (we're laying it on thick today), angst, longing

Author’s Note: Nora's got issues to work through if that's not apparent. Also this is where Nora's love for Bon Jovi (and mine) starts becoming part of the story, not just the chapter titles.

xxx

"Do I look okay?"

Sierra gawked at you through the video chat on your phone, which you had prompted against the mirror in your hotel room's bathroom. "Do you look okay? Seriously, Nora? You look like a princess."

You were dressed in a sleek turquoise blue dress with silver embroidery along the shoulders and edges, your shoulders almost completely exposed and your breasts just contained enough. You had minimum make up on but what you did have on, especially your black eye liner, highlighted your facial features. Your light brown hair was pinned into an updo that had taken you nearly two hours to complete, to your dismay, but at least it looked like the pictures you'd found online. There was a pearl necklace, earrings, and silver rings on three of your fingers that rounded out your look, along with the delicate white sandals with two inch heels that Sierra could not see due to the bathroom countertop being in the way.

"That sounds like too much," you said, frowning. Maybe you should've gone with a black dress.

"No! No!" Sierra shouted, moving closer to her phone's camera. "It's perfect! You look amazing. Everyone at the premiere won't know what hit them."

You blushed, uncertain if you wanted to draw that kind of attention to you. You just wanted to fit in that night, when you joined a selected chosen few to watch California Dreamers for the first time in a classy theater in Los Angeles before its worldwide release the week after.

It was surreal, how your story would soon be on the big screens, for all who wished to see it. Your excitement over it had your hands shaking.

"So are you nervous?" Sierra inquired.

"Of course I am," you replied, taking a final look at your face in the mirror. "I've never been to an event like this. Walter said some paparazzi might take pictures of me. If I do anything wrong I might just end up on the cover of some gossip magazine under 'New Screenplay Writer Has Big Oops At Premiere' or something."

"Don't make me jealous," Sierra said, grinning. "And that's not what I meant. I was talking about how you're about to see Javi again for the first time in a year."

"Why would I be nervous about that?" you asked. "We've kept in contact. I told you that filming for his latest screenplay is starting next month. He knows I've sold another one too. And we did use video chat a few times."

"Yes, but talking through the computer or phone once a month is not the same as in person," Sierra pointed out. "And you still have unresolved feelings for him."

"I do not," you protested a little too fast.

She gave you the look. The one that read as seriously? "You haven't even tried to put yourself out there at all the past year, Nora. Don't deny it."

You tried to anyway. "I've been busy with the second screenplay, you know that. It's been stressful writing completely solo for the first time and then trying to sell it on my own after."

She sighed. "Whatever, why do I even bother? Forget I brought it up and enjoy yourself tonight, Nora. You deserve it."

"Thanks."

"You'd better hang up with me," she figured, glancing at the ancient clock hanging on her kitchen wall. "By the time you call a taxi and they drive you there it'll almost be seven."

You said your goodbyes and switched to calling out for a taxi, the nearest company promising a car within fifteen minutes. It was on time, and you quickly made your way from the inside of your hotel lobby to the car. Though the driver did a double take of you (the good kind) he was nothing but polite and opened the back door for you.

On the ride to the movie theater you twirled the rings on your fingers, jitters truly setting in for the first time, and not just because of the film.

Even though you had denied it, Sierra was right, of course. You still had feelings for Javi and you'd been distracting yourself by burying yourself in your work, not just your second screenplay, but also the part time pet sitting business you'd started, a means to an end to making rent, though you did enjoy taking care of your clients' animals. It wasn't too serious though. You didn't have a regular client base and could leave whenever you liked, something you'd needed to be able to come to the premiere and any other future ones. You hoped someday to quit once you made enough money writing.

The theater the film was premiering at appeared after a right turn onto a busy business street and you ran a hand over the front of your dress, smoothing out wrinkles that didn't exist.

"Showtime," you uttered quietly and carefully stepped out of the taxi after paying the driver, making sure to include a healthy tip.

The entrance to the red carpet section beyond a border of ropes was being guarded by a burly man who was at least a foot taller than you, and seeing him caused your anxiety to flare. You had remembered your pass, right?

You fumbled with your wallet and pulled it out, raising it to your eye level like some detective on an eighties cop show.

"Nora Delaine," he noted, voice booming. "First time at a premiere?"

"How can you tell?" you asked, trying not to squeak.

He smiled, and it was friendly enough, but you were still intimated. You were pretty sure his biceps were larger than your head.

"You look more nervous than my mother's Chihuahua," he chuckled.

And I'm proportionally the same size, you thought.

You sucked in a deep breath and put yourself together. You were being ridiculous. A lot of people in Hollywood were above average height and buff, especially when compared to the average in your town. People of French heritage weren't actually typically all that short, but your family and neighbors did fit the stereotype.

"Have you seen Javi Gutierrez yet?"

"Right here," a familiar voice beyond the ropes answered.

You swiveled your head in the direction of the owner of it and your breath caught.

Several yards away Javi was standing by a backdrop wall put up so the paps could take photos of people as they arrived. He was as handsome as ever, dressed in a classic black and white suit and dress shoes.

Video chat really didn't do him justice, especially when he dressed up.

You approached him after picking your jaw up off the floor, beaming. "Javi!"

"Nora." He opened himself up to you for a hug and you accepted the offer, head against his chest and hands on his shoulder blades. You realized as his hands fell on your spine that you'd forgotten how warm and comforting he was, and you probably lingered in his embrace longer than a friend typically would because of it.

When you pulled away you blinked up at him, analyzing his appearance. Something was different about him.

You gaped at him when you figured it out. "You cut your hair!"

"I always do for premieres," he stated, "For the photos."

You felt a wave of sorrow over the loss of his curls, which was silly, especially since he apparently grew his hair out whenever he wasn't in Hollywood for business, but the feeling was still there.

"You look great, Javi," you told him honestly, "But you also looked great with your waves."

"Thanks," he said, with a hint of a blush on his cheeks. "I'll keep that in mind."

He guided you at the waist towards the center of the carpet as the paparazzi were allowed to file in line along the ropes and started snapping photos of the people that had arrived before you.

You didn't recognize anyone but the director, Marion Young. The actors were probably going to be last to show up, for dramatics.

"Javi look here!" someone called out and you and Javi both pivoted towards a young petite blonde with a massive camera in her hands. You wondered how she could even lift the thing.

"Time to pose," Javi said and you did exactly that as the girl started snapping photos of you together, side by side.

After what felt like ages, you relaxed the forced smile on your face and moved on down the line with him.

"You famous around these parts, Javi?" you inquired, knowing that paps didn't normally recognize writers like that.

"I've been caught hanging out with Nic a few times lately," he explained.

"Ah."

Duh. One of the easiest ways to get noticed in Hollywood was being in the vicinity of a famous actor. Of course someone who was close friends with Nic Cage would gain attention.

"I'm surprised they're not telling me to back out of the shot," you said as another pap's camera flashed at you.

"Even if they did not know you were the main contributing writer to this movie," Javi started, "You look stunning in that dress, cariño. They're eating you up."

Cariño. That was new. You were pretty sure that translated to something like sweetheart. Which wasn't necessarily a romantic pet name but... "Javi." His name came out of you like a warning.

"This is exactly why I made the contest," he told you as you both gained more and more attention nearing the front door of the building. One of his arms was still curled around you. "I wanted to give someone else a shot at the limelight. Soak it in while you can. Hollywood moves fast."

You nodded, not sure what to say, having decided to pretend to have missed the new pet name and ignore how much he was touching you. You didn't want to make a big deal out of it. He tended to get that way when he was excited. That was all it was.

He released you once inside the building and you also had to push aside the disappointment you felt from the loss of contact, shoving the emotion down to replace it with the excitement bubbling up in you for what you'd come here for.

It was time to watch the movie.

You sat down beside him at the back of the theater where the people who weren't the actors and director were asked to sit, and waited anxiously to see the final result of the hard work everyone in the room (besides the few civilians chosen to watch with them) had put in.

It felt like everything was about to change.

x

"So, how'd you like the movie?" Javi questioned as you settled down in the backseat of his limo with him a couple hours later.

"I loved it!" you exclaimed. "The director didn't change too many details and the cinematography was gorgeous. I admit, I wasn't thrilled at first with the casting, they definitely hired the actors for their popularity rather than their appearances fitting Nolan and Angie, but I can't really fault the casting people for it. Those two acted their asses off." You hummed as something that had bothered you crossed your mind. "I do wish the love scene would've been more them though."

Javi glanced at you quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not against movies having music in the background of a love scene," you informed him, "Not in the slightest. They usually add to it. But Nolan turning on that stereo? So not him. He wouldn't want to drown out his partner, you know? They were alone, no one to hear them. It was unnecessary and made it less intimate. Don't you think so?"

He cleared his throat. "Ah, sí, definitely." His phone binged with a text and he nearly jumped in his seat. You tried not to notice though it wasn't like him to get awkward discussing a love scene. You had wrote two together for Angie and Nolan, and they had been pretty spicy. Javi had been completely professional about it.

"Who's that?" you asked.

"One of the producers," he replied as he read the text. "Just reminding everyone the after party is only for those who were part of the crew or wrote for the movie and their significant others. No other family."

"They're paying for the booze," you guessed.

He grinned. "Sí. They promised a round of free shots."

"I think I'll stick to wine tonight," you told him. "The hangover after my birthday celebration was not worth it."

Javi chuckled. "I think I will refuse the offer too. I need to use every spare hour I have tomorrow editing my latest script. I cannot jeopardize my ability to meet the deadline to submit it to the film company interested in it."

The limo driver parked the vehicle and you and Javi quickly exited.

"What are the odds on them having chosen Club Midnight for the party?" you quizzed as you both strolled inside the familiar building.

"High," he shouted at you over the loud music. "I chose to bring you and Sierra here because I've been here many times for after parties. They rent out. So there won't be any general public tonight."

You nodded and weaved your way through the crowd to the bar, with Javi trailing you.

"Hey, congratulations," an unfamiliar woman said as you passed. "How do you feel, your first screenplay being a hit with the critics? Did you see the review calling the movie a beautifully real story about a man and a woman facing life's trials together?"

You turned your head in her direction and flashed her a toothy grin. "Thank you. I hadn't actually checked the reviews yet. Didn't know they released them so fast. And I figured the real test is going to be with the general audiences next week."

"True," she agreed. "They're the ones that make sure your scripts keep getting interest. Still, critical reviews affect turnout to some degree. Don't write off them off."

"Never."

You made it to the bar and ordered the first red wine you could think of, and Javi did the same. You both planted yourselves on bar stools in the corner of the room, away from most of the commotion, after the bartender handed you your drinks.

"I have a confession," you admitted to Javi as you tasted your wine.

"Do tell," he said, leaning in towards you.

"I still like cocktails more than wine."

Javi barked out a laugh. "I won't hold it against you."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

You scanned the club, taking in your surroundings and watching as a decent crowd danced the night away on the center floor.

Being there again made it feel like the weekend of your thirty-fifth birthday had been yesterday. It was hard to believe more than a year had passed. A year, and here you were, in the club with Javi again.

What was the saying? The more things change, the more they remain the same? Was that appropriate for this situation?

An hour passed. You and Javi made small talk between yourselves and spent a little time mingling, chatting with the director and complimenting the actors for a job well done. You even talked to a few of the camera crew members for a bit before the DJ put on some slow music for couples to dance to.

You lit up when you recognized the beginnings of the second song. "You Want To Make A Memory."

"What?" Javi frowned.

"The song," you explained, "It's one of my favorites. Do you know Bon Jovi?"

"I saw them in concert once, in Spain, when I was twenty-one," Javi answered. "My girlfriend at the time suggested we go. They were good."

"Aren't they?" You grinned. "They're my favorite band. Jon has such a good voice and I like the majority of their songs."

"Oh?" Javi stood from the couch you were both seated on and offered you a hand in a very prince-like manner. "Do you want to dance?"

You widened your eyes. "Oh, no, you don't have to."

"Come on," he encouraged. "It'll be fun."

"Okay..."

You grabbed his hand and followed him onto the dance floor, where your eyes met and time seemed to slow. He smiled at you and clasped your right hand and his left together. You smiled back and put your left hand on his shoulder. Then his right hand found the small of your back and you both started swaying to the soothing beat of the song.

You soon realized you couldn't look away from Javi and it seemed he couldn't look away from you either. You were trapped, spellbound together, mesmerized, completely lost in the moment. Your heart was racing for no damn reason except the intensity of his gaze.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Moments like this, they were only in the movies, were they not? Yet there you were, living it, and too lost in it for your fears to touch you.

Your face got closer and closer to Javi's, seemingly on its own accord, and he also leaned in towards you, the hand on your back wandering up to rest along your jaw.

Then he was kissing you, and you were kissing him back, both pouring your longing into the movements of your lips, softly, sweetly.

It was exactly the same kind of kiss Nolan and Angie had shared in your screenplay after they'd decided they wanted to be together, no matter what other people thought about their relationship.

You abruptly pushed yourself away from Javi at that thought, the spell broken, and shook your head.

"I can't do this, Javi," you told him, your heart feeling like it was in a vice grip.

"Why not?' he inquired, caressing your face, eyes soft. It hurt, how affectionate he was being with you.

"Because in the morning I'll fly back home," you stated. "Nothing that happens between now and then could change that."

Javi dropped his hand, looking crestfallen, and you backed away, feeling guilty but knowing that trying to comfort him wouldn't help the situation. You couldn't be his friend after what had just happened. Your only real option was to turn away and leave.

So that's what you did. You practically fled the club, eyes welling up like they had after you'd said goodbye to him at the airport.

You cried because you knew the truth. It wasn't actually distance that was the problem, or even the differences between you and Javi.

It was you.

You and your cowardice.

You wanted to be brave, you wanted to charge back into that club and tell him you'd stay to see where your relationship went, but the fearful part of you, the one that remembered your history and the lessons your family had taught you, prevented you from doing so.

Better a broken heart now than a crushed one later.

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Link to Bon Jovi's Song (on youtube)

(This song vibes with this chapter, imo)

xxx

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

xxx

[koolkat9]

GerEng Week 2023 - Day 3

@gereng-week

Prompt: Proposal/Wedding || Flowers/Garden

Rating: T

Pairing: GerEng

Word Count: 970

Read on AO3

Proposal

“Have you ever considered getting married?”

The carnation buds he was about to plant fell from Ludwig's palms. “What?”

Arthur rolled his eyes, an amused huff escaping his lips. He scooped up the bud and planted it in the spot he had made for it. “Marriage. Ever thought about it?”

Ludwig’s heart hammered in his chest, its thrumming running through each nerve. “I…never really thought about it. Our existence…Nothing seems to last. Plus…It hasn’t even been a decade since same-sex marriage was legalized. Even if I was human and could get married, it still wasn’t possible for so long.”

“Plenty of nations get married.”

“For alliances, yes. But they never last. Politics are ever-changing. Today’s ally is tomorrow’s enemy.”

“That may be true. But even then, some of those marriages still live on. Erzsébet and Roderich got remarried. Roderich also is reconnecting with Toni. Czechia and Slovakia may not have remarried yet, but they’re dating. Francis and Allie have been discussing getting–”

“Okay fine. I meant legally we can’t get married for love. Things are too turbulent.”

Arthur scoffed, hands thrown into the air. “Who cares about what the law thinks? It’s just for…the symbolism you know? And we no longer have to be tools for our government.”

Ludwig planted the next carnation, its yellow petals smiling up at him. Ludwig wasn’t smiling. “But we’re still the representation of our people. They influence is and–”

“But we can still be our own people,” Arthur bursted, “Our people’s influence is no more than a thought drifting through our heads.”

“I never coloured you as an optimist Arthur.”

“I expected you of all people–” Arthur rose to his feet, rubbing his dirt-covered hands against his pants. “You know what? Forget I said anything. I’m done for the day.”

“Should I–”

“Do whatever you want. Keep planting, come inside, go home. I don’t care.”

“Arthur…”

But Arthur was already heading inside.

For the rest of the afternoon, Arthur was silent. Ludwig wanted to ask why exactly Arthur blew up over this, but he knew when Arthur gave the silent treatment, that meant he needed some time to cool off. That evening Arthur ate dinner in the study, claiming he was going to work on his writing. When they went to bed, Arthur faced away from Ludwig, wrapping the blanket tightly around himself. Ludwig’s hand twitched, desperate to reach for him. But he didn’t. They needed space. and Ludwig would give it to him.

— — —

Sleepless night or not, Ludwig awoke at the crack of dawn as usual. His mind never pausing on its replay of his argument with Arthur. Did Arthur want to get married? He never mentioned it before. Never seemed like the type to settle down either. Did he want to marry Ludwig specifically? What brought this on all of a sudden?

Or perhaps it was more of Ludwig bringing up the painful side of their existence. The burning question of where the nation ended and the human began. What that could possibly mean for them. He dug the edge of his palms into his temples. Why did he over-explain himself? To bring that up?

He needed a jog. Clear his head. Breakfast could wait just this once.

Arthur was up when Ludwig entered the bedroom. Ludwig froze, back stiffening. Arthur was rarely up this early unless…

“Do you want to get married?” Ludwig blurted out. “I-I don’t mean like a proposal I just…I want to understand what’s going on.”

“Maybe…I don’t know…” Arthur huffed, flopping back down on the pillow. “I never considered it before. Like you said, we couldn’t do so legally except for alliances that never lasted. But haven’t you realized? We’re immortals, we’re nations, but we’re also human. We have our own wants, we fall in love, we form friendships, we desire connection. And I guess…When I see the couples go by with matching rings, or when I pass a wedding magazine, I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to just have a ceremony. A reception with friends and family.”

Arthur shook his head, covering his face with his arm. “It’s so sappy that even I cringe but–”

“I’m not ready,” Ludwig cut in, “We’ve only been together since the 70s and–”

“That’s not long for our kind,” Arthur finished. “I know. I didn't mean to imply that we’d do so now. It’s just that…with all this talk about possibly walking out of our government jobs, the idea we could actually move in together if we go down that path, a wedding seems more possible now than ever. I was just…mm…testing the water I guess. But we don’t have to. Just…And I’m going to sound cheesy here…I’m just happy to be with you.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“What.”

Ludwig sat on the edge of the bed. “I said I’ll think about it. But I’m far from ready for it.”

There was a rustling, arms wrapping around Ludwig’s waist, chin resting on his shoulder. “There’s no rush. I’m sorry for pressuring you. Even though it wouldn’t be legally binding, it’s still a big step.”

Ludwig leaned back into the embrace. “Okay.”

“And you don’t really think we don’t have free will?”

“I…Well, considering I fell in love with you when I did. When we were still enemies. And it never faded.”

“I get it, they’re loud sometimes. But we still choose in the end right. Like we chose this?”

Ludwig nodded, turning back to peck Arthur’s temple. “Now that everything is settled, are you up for some breakfast?”

“Hmm. No.”

Arthur pulled Ludwig back onto the bed. Ludwig let him, twisting around to properly wrap his arms around him. “Fine. A few minutes of cuddling. To make up for last night.”

“Oh of course,” Arthur teased, burying his nose in Ludwig’s hair.

[ultramagicalternate]

ULTRAMagic Interlude: Shadowland Chapter 26

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Master Post

After the delightful lunch, Gabriella and Weaver briefly retired to a lounge to let their food settle before heading out. Noticing a magazine on a coffee table, Weaver picked it up and began looking through it. “Fashion? Hum… What the? Hey, Gabriella, what’s with all these demons wearing these weird clothes?”

“Oh it’s just the current fashion trend. Rubber and synthetic fabrics are in right now. Not my cup of tea personally as I prefer clothes that breathe.”

“Jeez, none of this looks practical in the slightest…”

“They really aren’t. I’m hoping things shift towards traditional Victorian dress. I can’t get enough of that aesthetic… as you can certainly tell. Of course due to Inferno being non-linear in time, we have an ungodly amount of fashion to choose from.”

“I see. Heh, that’s not bad… So what was in before this?”

“Roaring 20s. It was probably because we had an influx of… well, um, perhaps I should spare you the details. Point is that people are fickle about what they wear and we’re very open to new ideas here in Inferno.”

Weaver continued to flip through until he got to a section that made him set the magazine down. “Good lord, that’s unheard of back home, haha.”

Gabriella chuckled. “Be careful, some of those issues tend to get a bit risque. Just as a heads up, my mom is into that kind of clothing. She loves sleek and shiny and even has a red bodysuit for the more adult centered social gatherings.”

“Yeah, I noticed some of the mannequins over there… Not going to lie, I wouldn’t mind trying some of that stuff on…”

“Truth be told, I don't hate tight and fully covering attire, I just can’t bring myself to wear it for prolonged periods of time. Mother is an arcane scientist, but she’s also a fashion designer by night. I’ve tried on some of her prototype outfits and it was fun, but not something I’d do on the regular. If you want to help her out with that stuff, feel free to let her know.”

“Arcane scientist… is that like an alchemist?”

“Yes, but her profession is a bit more broad.”

Getting back on track, Weaver had a chuckle. “How do you go from a woman of science to a fashion designer and back again like that?”

Gabriella smiled and shook her head. “That’s just who she is. I’d argue seeking satisfaction and pleasure like that runs counter to the pursuit of knowledge, but she makes it work. I cannot criticize her without acknowledging that my pursuit of knowledge puts me at risk, more so than her.”

Weaver got up to stretch. “To each their own.” Walking over to the bookshelf, he began thumbing through until he found something that interested him. “All of these look pretty eerie… what are they?”

“Oh, be careful, Weaver. A good portion of those books are more than just books if you catch my meaning. Some of them are what you would call cursed or hexed. I’m not sure how they’d affect you if you read them…”

He pulled out one that was a reflective black. It had glowing red runes all over the front cover. The pages were much the same, being quite odd to flip through. “What’s this one? It’s… it’s…” Weaver began going through the pages with fervor, his eyes widening as eldritch knowledge poured into his mind.

Gabriella noticed this and stroked the spine of the book with two fingers, causing it to quiver. She then snapped her fingers several times in front of his face. “Weaver! Can you hear me?”

“Huh? What? Oh yeah… what was that?”

She looked at the book, noticing that a black goo had formed over his hands. “Oh dear, that’s not good…” Seemingly aware, the book retracted the goo back into it. “That book is… that book is…” She noticed Valentina in the entrance way. “Mom, where did you get that book?”

“Stolon sent it to me to tinker with after his most recent assignment. It was in the depths of Miranda, appearing to be a grimoire of sorts. Mind if I ask what you two saw in it?”

“Um… something about Void magic?” Weaver replied, somewhat unsure of what he witnessed.

“How fascinating. Stolon could probably tell you more about it” Valentina pointed out. “Either way, I guess it’s yours now, Weaver. Books like that are incredibly finicky.”

“Oh, really? Well I guess so if that’s how it works…”

Xavier walked over, frowning at the book. “Yes. Now please get it out of here. It’s been flying around, causing messes all over the place…”

Valentina had a look of regret on her face. “Oh my, It has? I’m so sorry, Xavier…”

He smiled. “Don’t worry about it too much. I like you guys too much to stay mad at you.”

Gabriella sighed. “Well I suppose all of this is our cue to go deliver that package then…”

“Sure,” Weaver agreed as the book vanished. It was still there, just out of the way for the time being.

Collecting what they needed, Valentina saw Weaver and Gabriella off as they left the mansion. Xavier pulled his car up to the entrance, offering to drive the two to where they needed to go. Stolon’s mansion was close, but not close enough for a reasonable walk. As they drove, Weaver noticed that they were not leaving the land exactly, just going off in another direction. Gabriella explained that in the past, King Paimon had gifted land the size of a small country to his underling, Zaem. Zaem further invited some of his friends and coworkers to come live with him, dividing the land equally amongst them.

“Wow, this Zaem sounds pretty generous,” Weaver observed.

“Indeed,” Gabriella replied. “He’s also working towards a spot on The Infernal Council of Order, seeking to succeed Paimon.”

“And I think he’s going to pull it off,” Xavier stated. “He’s finishing up his 5 year trial period soon and his record is sterling.”

Weaver got out his book and began skimming through it. “Well that’s good to hear. I hope he gets the position then.”

After some more driving, Xavier pulled up to the entrance of Stolon’s mansion. “And here we are. I’m going to head back. Give me a call if you need me to come get you for whatever reason.”

“Will do, Xavier. Thanks,” Gabriella said as she got out and shut the door.

“Thanks for the ride,” Weaver replied.

Stolon’s mansion had a more regal appearance to it, something that was apparent from the outset. Gabriella went up and rang the doorbell, which gave off a melodic series of chimes. “Hopefully Stolas is here today.”

The ornate doors opened, revealing a bulky, older gentleman with a stern look on his face. This gave way to a smile once he saw who was at the door. “Gabriella, how wonderful to see you” he welcomed in a gruff, British voice.

“Hello, Sullivan. Is Stolon home? Mom has a package for him.”

“You’re in luck, as the master arrived home not too long ago. Before anything else, however, who is this young man?”

“This is Weaver Craddock. He’s a blacksmith from Shadowland. He’s also my boyfriend.”

“Wonderful. Welcome to the house of Stolon, Mr. Craddock. Please, come on in.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sullivan,” he replied as they all went inside.

Sullivan stepped over to a phone of sorts and pressed a few buttons. He then spoke into the microphone. “Master Stolon, Gabriella has arrived with your package from Valentina.”

As the three waited in the parlor overlooking a fountain garden, Weaver started to look around. This mansion shared similarities with Valentina’s, but it felt like royals lived in this one. There were more refined paintings, heirlooms were on display here and there, and trophies were all over the place. He could tell that Stolon’s family was very prestigious and proud of their achievements. Weaver wanted to ask about some of the awards, but two children ran past before he could. Sullivan immediately went after them, ordering them to cease running in the mansion.

“Who were they?” Weaver asked.

“Forlas and Stoltur, two of Stolas’ younger brothers” Gabriella answered.

“I’ll have to apologize to Sullivan for that as it was my fault for getting them so excited, haha” an older, Irish voice said. Weaver turned to see a man with long, dark hair that trailed off into what looked like feathers. He had a face full of facial hair and dark eyes that were trained like a bird’s eyes. “Gabriella, great to have you back, lass” he stated as he straightened out his tuxedo.

“Thank you, Stolon. It’s great to be back. Things were a bit heated in The Unlight, but I had to come home for a breather.” She handed him the package. “Here you go by the way.”

“Excellent, but I’ll have to tend to this later. The missus is off in the gardens with the kids for a picnic and I need to get back to them. Before I do, who’s this gentleman?”

Gabriella smiled. “Stolon, this is Weaver Craddock, a blacksmith from Shadowland. We’ve been fighting together and, well, he’s my boyfriend now.”

Stolon promptly shook Weaver’s hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Weaver. Fighting the good fight against those troublemaking Proch’s, I presume?”

He nodded. “Yup. Finally got the upper hand on that rat Milosh after demolishing his dumb cult’s church.”

“Very good! Very good indeed. Truth be told, I’ve been begging Dragoslava Raynot to summon me to get a part of the action, ha. Speaking of which, Gabriella, you were in The Iron City, weren’t you? How is Drago doing?”

“Good, good. Desislav and her were all over the place last time I checked… that was about two weeks ago, but I imagine not much has changed.”

“Ah, I see. And Blood-Wraith, how is that starry-eyed lad doing?”

“Um, well, he seems to be a bit worried as of late. Worried about a lot of things…”

“Oh dear, that’s not ideal. I’ll have to make plans to go visit them then. Maybe bring them here for one of our picnics.”

Weaver nodded, then realized something. “Oh, sir? Not to jump subjects, but what is this?” He inquired as he got out his book.

Stolon took a moment, then gave a laugh. “That is a void grimoire, my boy. Looks like the one I handed off to Valentina. I’d dare say it’s chosen you as its owner.”

“I see. Well Aureolus is going to be thrilled… also can’t wait to show Dunja this. So what’s the deal behind it? In where it came from. I’ve seen this kind of stuff before, but this one is vastly different.”

Stolon cleared his throat. “Not too long ago I was tasked with dealing with a living planet from The Dark Void, or the shadow of the Cosmos. The eldritch object in question had wandered into Earth’s solar system, looking to merge with Earth itself. My team and I put a stop to it, isolating the interloper in orbit around the ice giant, Uranus. We had to implement a cover story afterwards that it was a moon called Miranda that’s always been there. Evidently the entity is female. As for that book, Pruflas was tasked with looking after Miranda and began poking around. He sent a whole bunch of those books back and tasked us with studying them…”

“Master Stolon?” Sullivan said as he stood in the parlor entrance, holding Forlas and Stoltur’s hands. “I believe these two are overdue to go outside.”

“Most certainly,” Stolon replied with another laugh. He then turned to Weaver and Gabriella. “I’ll be outside if you two need me. If you’re looking for Stolas, he’s in his room, stargazing.”

As Stolon left with his boys, Gabriella took Weaver up a winding staircase to the third floor. “Gabriella, what kind of demons are Stolon’s family?” He asked.

“Corvidae. Stolon and Stolas are ravens. Forlas and Stoltur? They’re bluejays. As for Sullivan, he’s from another family of eagle demons.”

“Neat. Are there other animal based demons out there?”

“Naturally. If you can think of it, there’s probably a demon for it.”

The third floor was a hallway with many rooms on each wall. At the end of the hallway was a door with Stolas’ name on it. The wall and door were decorated with carvings and etchings of constellations, something Stolas had requested. Gabriella knocked on the door several times and waited. She mentioned that Stolas had a habit of getting engrossed in his hobbies, so he would probably be a minute. After a little bit of waiting, the door opened with a soft creaking. The two were greeted by a slightly unkempt, youthful man with dark hair and eyes.

After rubbing his face with a cloth, the man got a good look at who was at his door. “Gabriella, is that you!?”

“Hey, Stolas…”

“Gabriella!” He exclaimed as he gave her a big, friend’s hug. “You’ve been so busy as of late. How have you’ve been?”

“Fantastic. A bit roughed up while exploring, but still fine.”

“You must tell me all about it and The Unlight, posthaste!” Stolas then looked at Weaver. “Oh Hello, who’s this?”

“Weaver Craddock, nice to meet you” he replied as he held out his hand.

“He’s a blacksmith from Shadowland I’ve been working with. He’s also my boyfriend” Gabriella explained.

“Oh…” Stolas hesitated as he looked at Weaver’s rough and calloused hand. “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you, Weaver. Come on in, both of you. Just, um, mind the mess. I was doing some writing and taking notes on an epiphany I had. It was a very good research session.”

The three moved around tables and stacks of books to a miniature lounge. It sat underneath a platform that held a huge telescope that stuck out of the domed roof and ceiling. Across from them was Stolas’ sleeping quarters. Weaver could tell from the sheer volume of bookshelves and scientific instruments that Stolas was a scholar. It all reminded him of Claudius’ mansion and Sten’s libraries.

“Are Zasiel and Cynassa free at the moment?” Gabriella inquired.

“No, Unfortunately. They’re off having fun at a fashion show in New Paradiso…”

“Huh, since when were they the fashion types?”

“Tanya. She even tried to rope me into it, ha.”

“Who’s Tanya?” Weaver asked.

“Zasiel’s girlfriend. She’s also another Angel native to Inferno.”

Stolas placed a stack of paper, several quills, and multiple inkwells on the lounge table. “Now Gabriella, tell me everything you can about The Unlight. Don’t worry about me, I’m ready to write.”

Gabriella chuckled. “Alright then. It’ll be quite the tale though…”

“Again, fine with me. And Weaver, don’t be shy. If you have anything you want to share, go on right ahead.”

“Oh, okay then. I’ll let Gabriella start, however.”

She took a breath. “Where do I even begin?”

Next: Chapter 27

ULTRAMagic Alternate © 2022 William Ford II (ChaoticTempleKnight)

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

I’m having serious writer’s block rn so here’s some Harringroveson/Steddilly hcs I guess:

Steve is the only one who cooks because he was taught by his mother/aunt(s)/grandma and learned old family recipes, the whole nine yards. He has a very specific way of preparing food and won’t let it be cooked any other way than the way he was taught, dammit.

Eddie’s always very clingy no matter the time of day, and both of his boyfriends appreciate and adore him endlessly for it. Billy loves hugs and Steve always gets giggly whenever his face/pretty much anywhere else is peppered in kisses.

The three of them enjoy a good horror movie, though they all prefer different sub genres and fight about it constantly. Eddie is more of a sci/fi guy, Steve prefers his slasher fics, and Billy likes psychological horror. Each of them is more scared of one of the other two options that isn’t their own preference.

Steve has no choice but to get into metal with how much his partners both listen to it. He feels left out when he doesn’t understand their references or inside jokes, so he starts picking up magazines from the checkout at Melvald’s to read up on the latest celebrity news and keeps an eye out for mentions of bands/artists that he wants to learn more about.

Billy runs so hot that he never sleeps with the covers on and sometimes even has to get up and go sleep in the living room because he can’t breathe with all of the body heat that’s clinging to him at either side.

The only neat freak among them is Steve, who has to keep everything in its designated place or else. Billy always has a healthy clutter in his various spaces, nothing too messy, while Eddie is the resident trash monster who dwells in mountains of garbage 24/7. Steve cleans up after them both and always gives them shit for being messy.

When they play fight, which is often, Billy and Steve always get the upper hand on Eddie. Steve will always beat Billy in the end because he has this way of catching him off-guard like Nala and Simba when they wrestle. Mostly because Billy underestimated him every time.

They’re all undiagnosed neurodivergent in some fashion: Steve has autism, Eddie has ADHD, and Billy has BPD. Working with/around each other’s quirks can be difficult but they do their best to communicate and figure it all out.

When it comes to trouble, Steve is the mom of the three of them because he’s very assertive and protective, and is definitely the type of person to say I’m not mad, just disappointed or try to handle the situation by himself. Billy’s like a dad in that he will fight so fiercely for the people he loves, and no one is safe from his wrath if anyone so much as inconveniences one of his partners. Eddie doesn’t have a parental-esque way of caring for others, but he is however the most like a deranged older sibling out of the three. He won’t fight people or lecture them, but he will roast them beyond recovery and make it so they’re too embarrassed to leave their house for a week minimum.

Both Billy and Eddie are so accustomed to having shitty diets that when they move in with Steve (yes, he’s the one who gets an apartment, and the other two kind of just come over one day and never leave), and they start eating real meals more often, they both get a little chubby. Billy bulks up like no one’s business, looks like a damn linebacker with his broad shoulders, thick biceps, and soft tummy that’s littered with stretch marks. Eddie doesn’t really work out much, so he’s mostly gentle curves in contrast to Billy’s muscle. Steve also has a little bit of a pouch on his lower abdomen, but he also has a higher metabolism than the other two.

Despite the two metalheads being the most involved with music in general, Steve is the least tone-deaf (I know that Eddie is in a band and is likely the lead singer as well as lead guitarist, but I feel like he has to work harder at hitting the notes than Steve does).

Billy and Eddie are affectionate in public, though they mostly stick to hugs and simple touches in passing. Neither of them invade Steve’s personal space too much as per his request because he has anxiety around being “found out” and gets overstimulated easily by public displays of physical affection and just physical affection in general in most cases.

They eventually start wearing specific rings to signify their relationship: Billy wears his on his left ring finger proudly, knowing that no one on god’s green earth is brave enough to ask him who the lucky lady is. Steve puts his on a chain and wears it under all of his shirts. Eddie’s is a pinky ring which he fondly refers to as his pimp ring, and constantly makes jokes about how his partners are his bitches. The rings are all stainless steel wedding bands, the real deal, and have “H-H-M” engraved on the side (Steve’s idea, of course, because he’s a sap).

Pls feel free to add on if you have any personal hcs that you wanna share, I love reading them :)

[just-barrow]

day 31 of @almost-a-class-act's War Is Helloween prompts!

SAS: Rogue Heroes - Johnny Cooper/Reg Seekings

Character A really wanted to get the most out of this supposedly haunted hotel by booking the most haunted room on Halloween night (bonus points if this is also the Doll Room).

"Wasn't an entire family murdered here in the thirties?"

"Yeah, they say their spirits still haunt the hallways."

"Great."

Johnny and Reg are making their way to the haunted hotel they are going to spend their Halloween night in. Reg had been a little hesitant beforehand—he still is—but let himself be dragged into it by his friend’s enthusiasm. No one else had wanted to come, and Reg wasn’t about to let people think he was a wuss. 

Johnny may have neglected to mention that he has booked them the most haunted room of the hotel.

The hotel lobby is old-fashioned and richly decorated to make it look even more spooky. The receptionist who checks them in is in full zombie make-up, and Johnny grins excitedly at Reg as he takes the keys from her. 

“Why did she call us brave?” Reg asks, eyes narrowing with suspicion as they make their way upstairs.

“No reason.” 

“Johnny.”

He doesn’t have to answer; next to their door is a little plaque that says ‘Welcome to our most haunted room! Enter at your own risk…’

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

With a sweep of his arm and a ‘ta-da!’ Johnny throws open the door. 

Reg takes a hesitant step inside and looks around at the, he has to admit, very normal hotel room. There are two beds, a bathroom, and a desk with a TV on it. It’s old-fashioned, just like the rest of the hotel, but he had expected a lot more from it. 

He turns around and yelps.

“What is it?” 

“Fucking doll.” It’s sitting next to the TV. Reg quickly turns it around to face the wall. 

Johnny can’t help but chuckle and makes a mental note to turn it back when Reg isn’t looking.

They get settled in as evening falls. Reg casually suggests taking a tour of the rest of the–slightly less haunted–hotel, but Johnny is determined to stay in their room and experience the alleged hauntings himself. Reg concedes and tries to get comfortable, but his shoulders are hunched up around his ears. A cold wind blows past him every few minutes. He tells himself it’s just because it’s a drafty old building.

Meanwhile, Johnny is reading from the little pamphlet that came with the room, animatedly telling Reg all about how a father gruesomely hacked his whole family to death on this very floor; the cause of all the unexplainable occurrences at the hotel. He’s on his stomach on his bed, kicking his feet like a teenage girl reading a magazine. 

Reg huffs a sigh, shooting the occasional glance at the doll. “Glad someone’s having fun.”

Suddenly, the TV turns on. The screen shows static. 

Johnny perks up. “Did you do that?”

Reg’s eyes have gone wide. “Stop pissing about, that was you.”

“I swear it wasn’t!” 

They both look at the doll. The remote control is lying next to her.

“Oh, fuck yes, here we go.” Johnny jumps from his bed and walks closer, the light of the screen illuminating his face.

Reg automatically follows suit, even though every fiber of his being is telling him to duck under the covers. The longer he is here, the more unnerved he feels. Something about this room is very off. He stands a little closer to Johnny than he usually would.

Johnny quickly glances at him and smiles, turning the TV off with the remote. “Don’t think the TV is going to do us any harm.”

“It’s not the TV I’m worried about,” Reg mutters uneasily, eyes locked on the creepy doll.

Then something giggles behind him.

Despite his ever growing fear, Reg whips around and stands protectively in front of Johnny, shielding him from whatever is in the room with them. 

There is nothing there.

“I don’t know what it is you want but you can fuck right off,” he growls into the semi-darkness.

Johnny isn't scared at all, his stomach instead fluttering with a mixture of adrenaline and butterflies. He presses close to Reg's firm back. After a brief hesitation, he reaches down and takes his hand. 

When Reg tenses up for a moment Johnny thinks he has made a huge mistake, but then their fingers tangle together and Reg gives his hand a light squeeze.

Biting his lower lip to keep from bursting into a relieved grin, Johnny noses behind Reg’s ear, his warm breath tickling his neck. Clearly shivering at the sensation, Reg turns around to face Johnny, hauntings now entirely forgotten. When Johnny tugs him closer and presses their foreheads together, a broken little sound escapes Reg’s throat. His free hand finds Johnny’s hip. He seems a little breathless and his eyes are pleading—it makes Johnny’s chest feel tight. 

Deep inside he has known for a while that he isn't the only one who has been yearning for this. 

It feels good to be right. 

And as Reg finally gives in and softly kisses Johnny on the lips, Johnny smiles into it and congratulates himself on a plan well executed.

He silently thanks the hotel spirits.

A light on one of the nightstands starts to flicker as they tumble into bed together.

[jublian]

Marauder Headcanons

(Wolfstar, Dorlene, Everyone is Queer)

Sirius (he/ him) tries to sit in a new seat every class. It annoys everyone. The girls think he’d be good in bed, but he’s never even kissed anyone (before Remus, obvs). He has a sharp memory, quick wit. One day he wonders why the girls can wear skirts or trousers, arrives to breakfast in a skirt. “It’s a crime to cover these knees”.

Remus (he/him) writes erotica and never wakes up early. He’s interested in men, but Lily confuses him. Unstoppable crush on Sirius Black. In fifth year, he goes to Nocturn alley and finds a second-hand book about a werewolf. He tracks down the previous author, who also has lycanthropy. It’s an old lady in Hogsmede. They have tea together every fortnight.

Lily (she/ her) applied to write for the school paper, was refused bc pureblood corruption. She starts an underground school magazine, called The Grunt, instead (which Remus submits erotica to). When in need of a confidence boost, she wears her fancy lingerie set under her school uniform

James (he/they) walks everywhere fast. He’s a picky eater (wont touch spinach). His party trick is balancing with one leg on an dustpan and brush, then enchanting it to fly. After becoming head boy, he schedules weekly prank-dates with Sirius. Doesn’t realise he’s bisexual until Sirius says that, yes, thinking about men while wanking ‘counts’

Peter (he/him) laughs easily, makes friends easily. The marauders are the one group he was desperate to be a part of. Reads true crime novels in bed while eating sour lollies. People are surprised by how good he smells.

Marlene (she/they) is tall and gangly. Bleached blonde rock n roll mullet. The boys think she’d be prettier if she didn’t walk so weird. They do the artwork for Lily’s paper- black ink caricatures that swim around the page and pull faces. She wears colourful nail polish, which is always chipped

Dorcas (they/ them) has long braids and glasses. A dry sense of humour, a sweet personality. A movie buff, a good sibling, a comics nerd. Duelling club leader. Sirius once challenged them to a staring match, which they won. He’s been kinda scared of them since, because he cheated for it. Bonded with Marlene over movies. They started dating in sixth year.

I wrote a marauders fic! It’s a collection of short scenes, with a wolfstar focus. WIP. Check it out here:

[say-al0e]

I know it’s barely afternoon and it’s a Sunday but. Filthy headcanons about Eddie. Perhaps perv!Eddie? Under the 'read more' :)

Knows that it's not the safest (or best idea) but loves, loves coming inside you. Not because he wants kids but for the mess of it. Absolutely obsessed with seeing his person get all filthy for him (also likes coming on your ass/chest but rarely face; does like running mascara or smudged lipstick, though).

Will steal underwear from your laundry basket (has stolen clean ones but that's not as fun). Knows you know he's taken them but still pretends to "find" them in his room and return them after washing. (His purpose for them varies but nine times out of ten, he's using them to jerk off.)

A handful of times (when he was in a mood) decided that it would be hot to jerk off and come in your underwear. Not in you, not in underwear he stole from your laundry basket. In the underwear you're wearing and then tell you to pull them back up and leave it until he takes you home. He's not sadistic but does like watching the little uncomfortable/turned on squirms as you settle into the feeling.

Has a stash of porn mags under his bed. His favorite is Heavy Metal. He really does read a lot of the stories in the magazine (has never read a Playboy story, doesn't really like the magazine in general because the girls aren't really his type) but, he'll be honest, the girls are hot and he's into it. One of his biggest fantasies is you finding the magazine and pointing to things you want to try with him.

Has a shoebox full of filthy polaroids hidden under his bed. Most were taken in his bed but there are a handful he took in his van and even one taken near Lover's Lake. Most feature you, from the chin down, and usually covered with his come. A handful actually feature Eddie inside you and as much as he likes seeing you filthy, those are his favorites.

Another of his fantasies was to fuck at a concert. In the bathroom, in his van in the parking lot, put his hand up your skirt in the crowd; whatever. Didn't matter. You were tempted to make it happen when you finally got to see Metallica but neither of you wanted to miss the show. So, you settled for a smaller band with a handful of songs you didn't really care about missing. The bathroom was cramped but Eddie made up for it.

Chronic masturbator. Always horny. Never sated. A lot of it has to do with age but a lot also has to do with Eddie never really having someone who wanted him. He was left on his own a lot with fantasies. Now that he has someone who wants him? His mind is in overdrive. Loves regular dates with no expectation of sex (and can absolutely go without it, doesn't want you to think that's all he wants from you) but he'd keep you in his bed if he could. When he can't see you, he has no problem taking care of himself. When you go away for college, he's got a habit of calling just to hear your voice while he gets himself off. Did it secretly once, managed to get off without you hearing, but now you both know, you just don't say anything until the end. (And though he blushes and whines every time, he loves that you encourage it)

Has also touched himself while watching you get ready. Tried to be discreet but failed miserably and ended up yanking the covers from over his lap and stroked his cock as he watched you touch up your lipstick.

Loves watching you smoke. Won't push for you to if you don't want to and will only offer once (unless you tell him to ask you again later) but if you say yes? Eddie's hard instantly. It's once of his favorite sights. Has a hard time keeping himself together and may or may not end up touching himself as he watches you blow smoke rings in his bed.

Isn't a jealous guy and actually kind of revels in seeing other people take an interest in you. It makes him feel a little powerful. Like, yeah, they can look, but at the end of the day, you're going home with him. And he's never really "won" like that so he's into it.

Does have a little bit of an interest in a threesome, though he won't tell you that; Steve's been the only candidate he'd considered so far because he can make a mess of you but the two of them together? You'd be wrecked.

Absolutely lives for completely wrecking you in his van and then just casually going about your business while you're struggling to stand. Railing you in a parking lot and then going to get dinner, him acting as casual as can be while you're still trying to catch your breath? Yep. That's Eddie.

Loves, loves cockwarming. Didn't think he would because he struggles to sit still but actually found it kind of relaxing. Once, he read half a book to you as you sat on his cock and it was a pretty pleasant experience.

[ichigopanhpff]

When We Were Young

I'd been sitting on this one for a while. Honestly, I'm still feeling uneasy about this one, but I will post nonetheless!

I noticed a lot of first times are written with rose-tinted glasses on, which isn't bad. But I feel it sets an unrealistic expectation, like you have to make your partner(s) orgasm several times or something. And if you did/have, that's amazing. And of course, everyone's experience is different.

What I noticed some writers don't cover is how awkward it can be. Yes, it can be romantic and sensual, but many steps had to be taken to get to that point. Solid communication need to be established. It's important to talk with your partner(s) about your likes, dislikes and what you're comfortable giving consent to.

Consent is key. You've heard and read this many times, but I cannot stress how important this is. It lays the groundwork for trust and intimate connection. Not only are you trusting them with your physical body, you're entrusting them with your emotions and sensations to create a safe space to feel good with everyone involved.

I say everyone because a relationship is not always just between two people and I want to reflect that.

Enough with the PSA; let's get right to it! This one-shot takes place in the final timeline of TokyoRev and I've done my best to keep it spoiler free. Mitsuya and (Y/N) are 18-19. Some characters/events tie in with "Begin Again."

---

It’s been nearly four years since Mitsuya and (Y/N) started dating.

What started out as a young and blossoming teenage love had now fully grown into a maturing and decadent flower.

They’ve seen through each others best and worst times, through Toman and their conflicts with Black Dragon and Tenjiku, every fist fight, hospital visit, last minute school assignments, and the rush of reckless youth; they were beside each other hand in hand.

Taking their relationship to the next level was something they kept an open conversation about; if they were honest with themselves, their raging hormones did not make this easy.

Were it not for Mitsuya’s promise to Jun, this would’ve happened a long time ago.

A very long time ago.

They started out slow with exploring each other’s bodies and reading articles in lifestyle magazines on their own time; they wanted to learn each other’s pleasure points, memorize every divot and curve, taste every inch of skin, ingrain the sound of their voice when aroused. Their warm, lingering touches on each other left them craving more every time.

When they tried oral, it was… not how the stories made it out to be in the magazines.

Mitsuya couldn’t find the balance between licking, sucking, and fingering. He couldn't find her clitoris and got close to it a few times, thinking that was it when he heard her voice change; he's also lost count the amount of times she yelped in pain from him trying to push his finger inside her too early when he thought she was wet enough; it was from his saliva, not her. The only thing he found in the end was a spot that made (Y/N) ticklish where she had to push him off because she was laughing too hard.

(Y/N) was too shy and not confident enough to try it because “it’s where your pee comes from” and opted to try a hand job instead; poor boy thought his girlfriend was going to rip it off with how hard she gripped and how fast she did it. Never in his life had he felt that raw and took nearly 3 days to recover. His loins felt like he had terrible rug burn.

Despite the open dialogue and experimentation, they were both still too embarrassed to be fully nude in front of each other.

There were nights where Mitsuya found himself mindlessly sketching out lingerie designs for his girlfriend to wear, some of which hardly left anything to the imagination. His face stained tomato red and had half a mind to rip it out of his sketchbook and throw it away. The lilac haired boy had to use every ounce of his self-control; his sisters were sleeping on the other side of the partition curtain. Safe to say, he hid that particular sketchbook way out of reach from his nosy siblings.

And there were times where (Y/N) found her mind wandering to what positions her boyfriend would put her in while pumping himself inside her. Feeling hot and bothered from her running imagination, she’d use her fingers to satiate her lust; though her boyfriend’s would probably feel much better if he didn’t try to rush it half the time.

They were caught in the middle of a downpour during their date one autumn day and took shelter under a random awning of a shop; unfortunately, the convenience store sold out of umbrellas from the early birds. Already soaked to the bone, the two made a break for it when the storm lightened up and made their way to her apartment. After shaking off their drenched jackets and brushing their respective locks from excess water, the two entered shuddering violently from the cold rain.

“Wait here,” (Y/N) instructed with audible shivers she tried suppressing in her throat. “I’ll get you a towel.”

Sliding open the storage closet by the bathroom, she pulled out a fresh set and threw a small one at her boyfriend to dry off before coming in. Revealing his lanky and toned torso after peeling his black oversized t-shirt off, she hastily grabbed the half soaked garment and wrung it out the best she could before hanging it up to dry in the bathroom. Mitsuya stepped in not long after and hugged her from behind to warm her trembling body.

“You’re shaking,” he mumbled in her ear, feeling his body quivering from the cold still. The warmth of his breath sent a different kind of senses down the nerves of her skin. “Wanna take a bath together?”

“You first,” she suggested. “I’ll take one after.”

“But it’ll save time and water,” he suggested with a small whine before pressing a warm, open mouth kiss on her cold neck while moving the wet, matted strands of hair out of the way. She leaned into the sensation and let out a small breath from her nose.

“As nice as that sounds…” she gasped out and turned to face him. “I doubt we’ll be doing much bathing.”

“I’m not seeing the problem here,” he lowly chuckled in his throat, his lavender gaze slightly darkened.

She gave him a nice, long kiss and pulled back before Mitsuya could do any more. Playfully biting on her bottom lip, she pushed herself off and took her damp top off to hang dry, revealing her bra to him before walking out of the bathroom.

“Really?” he huffed from frustration with his arms out in his half-excited state. “You’re gonna leave me hanging like this?”

“Yup.”

Releasing a dejected sigh, the lilac haired boy got to disrobing and hung the rest of his soaked clothing up before turning the shower head on to warm himself up and wash the cold off his skin. Emerging a few minutes later, he wrapped his lower half with a towel and found a dry set of his clothes on the floor; she cleverly disguised the reason as ‘something for her to have in case of weather emergencies’ when she just wanted to wear his clothes. Switching off, (Y/N) jumped in and let out a huge sigh of relief the moment the warm water hit her frozen body.

“I’ve revived,” she drawled contently, exiting the bath wearing one of his oversized t-shirts and entered her bedroom, where Mitsuya was splayed out flipping through one of her photography magazines. The sound of calm, steady rain fall could be heard from her closed window, the pattering of drops clacking loudly on the tin roof from one floor up.

“So that’s where that shirt went,” he looked up from the magazine with an amused smirk.

“It… conveniently made its way into my drawer,” she playfully fibbed and batted her eyelashes.

“Right…” Mitsuya drawled and rolled his eyes. “Like those three in your drawer there?”

“If you didn’t want me stealing your shirts, then don’t make ‘em so comfortable to wear.”

“I actually bought those, y’know,” he pointed out.

She faced him and put her hands on her hips. “It’s really your fault, Taka. I can’t sleep in anything other than your clothes anymore.”

“Really?” he mused with a cocked brow and a matching smirk.

“Your scent calms me,” she pouted and hid her blushing face by opening the closet. She took out her futon for the two of them to lay on. Even though their date was ruined by the rain, they could at least be cozy together.

Smoothing out the plush mattress, she patted it as an invitation for her boyfriend to join her. Lazily smiling with his signature half-lidded gaze, he closed the magazine and crawled to her side. Loosely wrapping his arms around her frame, she unfolded the blanket and draped it across their legs. She let out a content sigh and leaned her head into the lilac haired boy’s torso, feeling his body warmth envelop her with his cuddles.

“I’d say this makes up for the rain, yeah?” He kissed her cheek and nuzzled into the crook of her neck, making her chuckle.

“I think so.” She faced her boyfriend with a grin before wrapping her arms around his shoulders and leaned in to share lips. “How do you do it?” she softly asked.

“Do… what?” he asked with a quizzical look.

“How do you make it so easy for me to love you?” She pecked him on the lips and played with a few stray strands of his shoulder length lilac hair; he decided to grow it out after Toman disbanded. “You’ve spoiled me rotten for anyone else.”

“Are you implying there’ll be others?” he inquired with half-seriousness, making her softly laugh.

“I’d like to see them try prying me away from you.”

“Damn right. ‘Cus you’re all mine.”

Pulling her onto his lap, (Y/N) straddled her legs around Mitsuya’s waist. Threading his digits into her locks, he sighed into their kiss and deepened it by running the tip of his tongue on her lower lip. Their wet muscles openly danced as his hands roamed around her exposed thighs found themselves at the hem of her oversized shirt. Slowly pulling it off of her, he cast the top aside and gently traced every inch of her back with a shaky breath. His eyes drunk in the masterpiece sitting on top of him.

“Gorgeous…” he whispered and pressed a kiss on her collar bone and moved up to the crevice of her neck. She let out a soft moan and cradled his head gently, stroking his soft lilac strands around her fingers. His hands gently caressed her back and found them at her bra clasp; she felt him clumsily fumble with it and let out a small giggle.

“Need some help there?”

“… Yes.”

Giving him an endearing smile and a chaste kiss, (Y/N) got off of his lap and turned to show her back to him, revealing the two row hooks and demonstrated how they work together.

“There’s some that’s three rows, even four,” she explained. “But those are usually for larger chest sizes that need more support.”

“Those gotta be a pain to take off…” he noted.

“They’re a bigger pain to put on.”

Mitsuya reached out and gently unclasped her bra and softly ran his fingertips down the small of her back, sending goosebumps up her skin and arched up as an audible shudder escaped her. Pulling himself in, he peppered kisses along her lotus tattoo and proceeded to slip his fingers under her bra strap to remove it off her shoulders. (Y/N) immediately covered her chest with her arms, feeling exposed. His arms snaked around her waist and moved his hands up to gently knead the fleshy mounds, eliciting a soft moan and whimper from her. Her boyfriend let out a throaty groan and open mouth kissed her neck, sucking harshly on the skin and leaving red marks on her right shoulder. His index and thumb found her cold, pebbled nipples, giving it a firm pinch; she let out a small whimper and felt something thick and hard start to poke the back of her thigh.

“I want to see you,” he whispered on the shell of her ear.

Shyly turning around, her body trembled with nervousness as she let her arms down, revealing her plump breasts for Mitsuya to see. Her nipples were hard and excited from his previous touches mixed with the chill in the air from the rain. His soft, lavender gaze went dark and felt himself twitch as he sucked in a breath.

“So beautiful…” he whispered. Snaking his left arm around her waist, he pulled her into a searing kiss before gently laying her down on the futon and laced both his hands with hers as he hovered above. Slowly releasing, he looked into her eyes with love.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t feel ready…” His left hand came up and softly caressed her cheek and kissed the top of her head.

“I am. Just…” Her right hand reached up and placed it on top of his. “Go slow, okay?”

Silently nodding, he took his t-shirt off, revealing his lithe and toned body. (Y/N)’s hands slowly trailed up, feeling each divot of his muscles on his stomach as he hummed with approval. He reached down and removed his shorts, revealing a very obvious protruding member in his black boxer briefs. Her eyes gradually widened with surprise.

“… Will that fit?” she haplessly blurted out and blushed, unconsciously clenching her legs together. Mitsuya snickered while she covered her face, reeling from humiliation.

“We’ll have to find out…” he chuckled and leaned back down to her lips after gently pushing her hands off her face. The lilac haired boy wedged his knee between her legs, feeling the pooling warmth from her panties. Mitsuya let out a throaty groan and trailed his lips down from her neck to latch onto her left nipple. (Y/N) softly gasped the moment she felt his tongue flick on the hardened bud and sucked on it; his left hand fondled her other breast, pinching it every now and then before switching off. She threaded her fingers into the strands of lavender, encouraging her boyfriend for more through soft sighs and hitched breaths, his name leaving her lips in tiny whimpers. His large right hand trailed down her side and languidly rubbed her inner thigh, trying to gain access her growing want.

She let out a surprised gasp and sighed when she felt the tips of two of his fingers slowly rub her clothed slit up and down. For some reason, she felt wetter than usual as her body naturally reacted to each of his tender caresses. Mitsuya released his lips from her nipple with a soft pop and focused his attention to her now drenched panties. Hooking his fingers on the sides to remove it, (Y/N)’s hands jolted up and grabbed his wrists in a fit of panic.

Was this really happening? Right now?

“Y-You first…” she meekly stuttered out as an attempt to stall.

Letting out a light sigh through his nose, he smiled at his girlfriend with understanding. He moved his hands to the waistband of his boxers instead and slowly pulled it down, freeing his now extremely erect cock hitting his stomach; his breath hitched from the sudden chill hitting his hot skin. The tip glistened with his pre-cum; a protruding vein ran up his shaft. He was lengthy with a good amount of girth.

“This… This is me,” he shyly murmured with a tint of pink blooming on his cheeks.

Unconsciously reaching up, she wrapped her hand around his length and gave it a light jerk, earning a soft, breathy moan from him. Unlike his hands, (Y/N)’s were soft and felt like he was melting into her touch with every languid stroke; she’s learned to go soft and slow after the last time. How many nights had he imagined her doing this to him instead of his own whenever his mind was clouded with lust? His hand immediately grabbed her wrist, stopping her movement.

“Sweetheart…” He swallowed hard and seethed at her touch, his deep gaze glossed over with desire. “As good as that feels, I don’t wanna cum just yet.”

“Is that all it takes?” she joked.

“With the way I am now, yes,” he confessed. “Besides…” He used his body weight and pushed (Y/N) back down, slipping his hand under her panties and took it off in one go, making her softly yelp in shock. “It’s your turn.”

The moment he did, she quickly clamped her legs shut, embarrassed by how turned on she was.

“Come on, love. Don’t be unfair…” he softly cooed out and rubbed soothing circles on her quaking thighs and trailed light kisses on it. He rested the side of his head on the outside of her right leg with puppy dog eyes. “I wanna see all of you.”

Hesitantly coming around, she relaxed and allowed her boyfriend’s hand to stroke across the expanse of her left leg to fully open them up. His deep lavender gaze stared down at her moistened folds with the warmth of need radiating from it. The tips of his left fingers teasingly trailed up to the inner parts of her thigh, making her whimper and muscles tighten. He let out a long, elated sigh the moment he made contact and gently stroked her labia with his middle and index fingers.

(Y/N) sharply inhaled and let out a broken, high-pitched squeal, squeezing her eyes closed. Her head tilted away while feeling her boyfriend’s fingers explore her most intimate spot, letting out shallow breaths as she tried her best to stifle her voice; the apples of her cheeks burning fiery hot. Mitsuya laid down beside her, feeling his stiff cock poke her from behind.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he encouraged with a soft, baritone bass in his voice. “I wanna hear how good you feel.”

He peppered kisses down the back of her neck before sucking on that one spot that made her weak. Squelching sounds sharply bounced off the walls of her room as she breathlessly moaned his name. Mitsuya successfully found her clit and slowly rubbed it, making her breath hitch and body jolt from the sudden sharp, foreign sensation. His other arm slipped around her shoulder and fondled her left breast.

“So wet for me…” he praised and hissed from how excited his girlfriend was. Feeling her relax, he slowly slipped his middle finger inside her and gave a few test thrusts. He groaned at how her muscles tightly wrapped around his digit and pulsated in satiny warmth. (Y/N) felt her pelvis bucking into his touch and lightly rocked into his finger as lust and stray tears covered her eyes. His thumb found its way to her clit and flicked it in rhythm to his finger pumping in and out of her hole. Letting out a sharp gasp, her muscles tense up as she felt something hot build inside of her.

“Taka…” she whimpered, feeling her body get hotter and wetter. Her face flushed as she gasped for air while he continued. “I-It feels weird…”

“I read it’s supposed to make you feel really good…” he panted as he continued thrusting and rubbing in rhythm, feeling her insides clench tighter around him. “Let me make you feel good…”

She found her breath hitching in her throat as her back arched, her voice let out a strangled moan the moment she felt the tightly wound thread inside her snap. Mitsuya hummed with approval and languidly kissed her neck, sucking more dark spots on it as her pulsating muscles convulse around his drenched finger from her very first orgasm.

“Taka…” she whispered with moaning pants and broken cries while he slowed his strokes, her lower half still shaking and jerking from her release. “I wanna make you feel good too.”

Steadily removing his nectar-coated fingers with a squelch, Mitsuya brought it up to his lips and tasted how sweet she was. After licking his digits clean, he pulled her chin to him and let her taste herself on his tongue. Releasing in a daze, she stumbled to sit back up and pulled one of her mini desk drawers open to take out a condom they bought ahead of time.

“Nervous?” she asked with a quaking smile.

“Y-Yeah…”

“Me too.”

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked again for confirmation as he took the wrapped contraceptive from her; she softly nodded in confirmation.

“Taka, I’ve always been yours.” She kissed him tenderly and released, her stare darkened with carnal ardor and adoration. “There’s no one else I’d do this with.”

His heart leapt into his throat, enveloping his emotions in her words; he needed to show how much he loved and needed her now. Ripping the foil, he rolled the condom over his length, lightly hissing at the cold sensation of the lubricant touching his hot skin. Positioning themselves in missionary, the two stared into each other’s souls, their hearts pounding fast in their chest as their limbs shook nervously.

(Y/N) reached up to pull him down to capture his lips to relax. He rubbed the head on her slick folds; the two times he tried pushing into her, the tip popped back up from it being too slippery and nerves. She readjusted herself on the bottom and he successfully entered, letting out a long gasp as the head of his cock bullied its way in her. She gritted her teeth from the pressure and mewled.

“Hngh, so tight…” he grunted between breaths with his whole body shaking as he pushed in little by little. “Try to relax…”

“Easy for you to say…” she squeaked out, feeling herself stretch to Mitsuya. It was overwhelming and felt like she was being split in two. Her legs trembled as her hands vice gripped onto his shoulder blades like her life depended on it, her nails digging into his skin. Hot, crocodile tears streaked down her cheeks the moment she felt him bottom out, letting out a dry sob the moment she felt something pop inside. The pain was sharp and barely tolerable as she felt her thigh muscles squeeze and shake. They looked at each other, letting out light, shaky breaths from being connected body and soul for the very first time.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” her lover consoled and wiped away the stray tears that stained her cheeks, peppering light kisses on her face. “You’re… so soft inside,” he moaned and rested his forehead on top of hers. His hands found solace on the sides of her head. “I feel like I’m gonna melt in you.”

“Don’t say something embarrassing like that while you’re in me!” she huffed out with reddened cheeks, still trying to breathe through the pain; he merely let out a breathless chuckle.

He clumsily crashed his lips on hers, completely drunk on the sensation of her body; his long lilac hair matted onto his now clammy skin, feeling his body heat rise from the new found erotic sensation of being forever connected to the love of his life. He did his best to stay still while his girlfriend adjusted to him. Gingerly shifting her legs to wrap around his hips, she gave him a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I think…” she swallowed thickly and sighed. “It’s okay for you to move now.”

Her boyfriend looked down to pull out a little and did a few shallow test thrusts before putting some more strength into it and softly moaned from feeling her clamp down on him with every move.

“Feels good… You feel so good… So hot,” he gasped out before capturing her lips with his again. Swallowing each other’s moans, her legs twitched while he plunged into her oasis sloppily.

Her breathing became erratic, gasping out his name through broken moans and felt something inside her break with a hot sensation. (Y/N)’s boyfriend stilled his hips as her stifled cries and throbbing velvety walls clenched around him. He watched her face contort between pain and pleasure as her back rounded from what he was doing to her, trying his best not to come on the spot.

“Taka…” she slurred out, feeling the contact high with blurry eyes and reached up to cup his face with her hands.

“Does it still hurt?” he asked with worry.

She slowly shook her head and flashed him a soft, convincing smile. “You can go a little… harder…” she bashfully muttered.

“… Are you saying this ‘cus you want this or for my sake?”

(Y/N) softly stroked his cheek with the pads of her thumbs and whispered, “I want it and I want all of you, Taka. You don’t have to hold back.”

As if under a spell, he dove down and fervently kissed her, the tips their tongues openly dancing as he started thrusting inside her again with vigor, their foreheads touching. His muscular arms tightly held onto her while hers wrapped around his shoulder while one of her hands weaved into his damp locks, lightly pulling on it from his rapture.

“More…” she moaned. “Deeper, love.”

Mitsuya thrust his full length into her with soft, guttural grunts and pants, the snap of his hips making the lewd, sticky sounds of their juices audible between their sounds of pleasure. Unable to hold back anymore, his hands gripped her hips as he sped up, the wet slapping of their skin getting louder and louder as her muscles clenched around his length. Uttering her name out like a prayer while chasing his release, his body stuttered and choked back a soft grunt as he climaxed, feeling her squeeze every drop out. Screwing his eyes close, he felt his warm seed exit in spurts and pool at the tip of his cock inside. The two caught their breath as her boyfriend gingerly reopened his eyes in a half-lidded state, dazed from his orgasm. Slowly pulling out, he hissed at the feeling of leaving her warmth, revealing the amount he came in the contraceptive. Carefully rolling it off of his now softening member, he tied it before wrapping it in a tissue to dispose of it later. Grabbing a few more sheets, he cleaned himself off before tending to his girlfriend.

She let out a light groan and turned to her side, feeling the soreness between her legs and panting. A light sheen of sweat covered their skin both from their lovemaking. Mitsuya gently pulled (Y/N) into a deep embrace, feeling her soft, supple flesh on his. The patters of the rain softened up from the downpour before.

“Was I too rough?” he asked with a look of concern, seeing her wince from discomfort when she readjusted her body for a better position to cuddle in. He rubbed soothing circles on her thigh as a way to alleviate her aches. She shook her head.

“You were fine,” she reassured and leaned into him to lazily kissed her boyfriend while smiling into it. “I read the pain’s common after.”

“Would a warm bath help?”

“It depends: are you joining?”

“If you’re inviting…” her boyfriend replied with a light chuckle and brought her left hand to his lips, kissing the ring on her left ring finger he gave her glimmering in the dimly lit bedroom.

“Don’t think we’ll get much bathing done,” she laughed.

“Again, I fail to see the problem here.”

Before they could continue their banter, the sound of jingling keys could be heard from the door. The two looked at each other with widened eyes, their breaths hitched in their throats from anxiety. (Y/N) glanced at the calendar on her desk and that sense of dread dropped into the pits of her stomach.

Her dad was coming home after 2 months.

And today was that day.

Oh. Crap.