#and as I said they slap a ridiculous amount

[bleaksqueak]

Since I posted some of my old fanart yesterday... if you're not familiar with Slayers, and thus have never heard its amazing music, do check it out. It's largely by the same songwriter, Masami Okui, that did Utena's iconic opening (Rinbu Revolution) and ofc (TRUTH) and sung by a duo of her and Hayashibara Megumi (you know, the GOAT)

The entire OST pretty much slaps. there's only a couple of bad image songs in an absolute expanse of pure gold. GIVE A REASON, the opening to the second season, tends to be the reigning favorite. (I've a hard time pinning down my absolute favorite... of the original openings, it might be Breeze, but all three are so good. Of the entire catalog? Impossible to choose. Midnight Blue, Raging Waves, Within my Unlimited Desires, Gloria, Get Along... Impossible Choice)

[doobean]

SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN - ISAGI YOICHI

synopsis: A quick game of truth or dare goes a long way for you and your boyfriend.

contents: afab!fem!reader, college au, established relationship, mentions of alcohol, parties, the whole college experience, awkward first times, isagi centric, narration heavy throughout, explicit content (he calls you baby, unprotected, virginity loss, fingering, handjob, saddling, clothes stay on!!, finishing inside, a lil bit of aftercare and cuddles), mdni word count: 3.9K a/n: was originally req on my other blog before i dedicated a whole post to it because why not... also idk if its actually called saddling or not but some of these sex positions have weird names so im just gonna call it saddling (u sit in his lap)

It's not Isagi's fault when the topic comes up. Everyone is drinking—like an absurd amount.

On this particular night, they win their last game of the season, and what better way to celebrate than at Reo Mikage's overly lavished-out apartment? Bachira is the first one to suggest a party and, after minimum persuasion, Reo offers up his place. Tonight is also the night that everyone finds out that Reo has a fucking wine cellar. The type of wine cellars with evil-looking spiral staircases that can hold a multitude of foreign wines and hard liquor that Isagi can't even pronounce even if he tries.

And it's also not Isagi's fault when he agrees to play "truth or dare", foolishly thinking that it'll remain PG-13 as if he had forgotten that having Shidou and Bachira around makes everything but PG-13. Everyone is about four shots in when Shidou's tongue starts getting loose and suddenly everyone becomes interested in their teammates' sex lives — specifically Isagi's sex life with you.

So this is how it happens. This is how they get on this ridiculous tangent.

They’re guys, so the shift in conversation comes as no surprise to Isagi. Even though Isagi doesn’t actually have any legitimate interest in said conversation.

"You can't avoid answering by taking shots," Bachira almost slaps the shot glass from Isagi's grasp as he brings it up to his lips. "C'mon, just tell us already, Yoi."

Approximately ten minutes before his turn, Isagi has learned against his will that Shidou has slept with nearly half of the cheerleading team — all while wearing the school’s mascot costume. His best friend, Bachira Meguru, apparently has a slight degradation kink and is secretly a masochist. Reo and Nagi? Shared a few girlfriends between them during the course of high school and freshman year of college. And now it’s his turn.

"Fuck off," Isagi scoots away from Bachira and settles closer to Rin on his right, the only 'normal' one of the group for tonight. "Can we just skip to the next person?"

The whole team is sitting on the living room floor in a circle, each person clutching either a bottle of alcohol or one of Reo's weirdly expensive shot glasses that he says his father had bought from Switzerland. The whole team, minus Rin, also can't seem to let go of the conversation. Almost as if everyone knows the truth and is waiting for Isagi to say it himself.

"Nuh-uh," Reo sloppily points his finger at Isagi and leans slightly forward, almost faceplanting himself on the floor if Nagi hadn't pulled him back in time. "You've been avoiding all the juicy questions tonight, Isagi."

Maybe it's his secretly inflated ego but Isagi likes to think of himself as a good boyfriend. And a good boyfriend should keep all private details... private. Even if there are no details to share.

"You guys are drunk." Isagi points out and nudges an overly tipsy Bachira away with his foot.

Kunigami leans against the couch behind him and throws his head towards the ceiling. "That's the whole reason why we're playing this in the first place."

"So, answer the question, Isagi." Shidou tips his wine bottle back, it's nearly empty, and goes in for another drink. "How often do y'all do it?" He asks with a sly smirk.

Isagi bites his lips, trying his best to look threatening while the red from the alcohol blushes his cheeks. "I'm not answering."

Chigiri huffs from across and jabs Shidou's side. "Just give him a dare instead, this is getting boring."

"Rinnie, give him a good one."

Rin flicks Shidou a seething glare at the nickname but the other male laughs it off. Everyone does because, unlike Rin and Isagi, everyone is currently shitfaced. Still, Isagi can't help but wonder what his long-term rival has up his sleeves. They didn't have the best friendship, but at least they can somewhat acknowledge each other's skills to some degree, even if Rin can be a dick at times.

After what seems to be a long while, Rin speaks up. "I dare you to go home."

He says it so nonchalantly that it makes Isagi almost spit out his drink. "Excuse me?"

Rin repeats it again and Bachira, who's now seven shots in, chimes in. "Oh! So he can fuck his girlfriend, right?"

Rin rolls his eyes, wearing an exasperated expression. "Yeah, sure."

On any other day, Isagi would feel offended but that isn't the first emotion that overcomes him. He feels oddly... relieved? But he can't let the other drunkards know that, obviously. Rin gives him a knowing look and takes another shot.

"Dumbass, are you going to do it or not?"

Tonight's been weird, Isagi thinks. Is his rival looking out for him?

Isagi hesitantly stands up and settles his drink on a nearby tabletop before shuffling towards the front door to grab his gym bag and backpack in the corner. "You guys are losing your minds." He fakes a frown.

"Ugh, you're no fun Rinnie."

"Isagi Yoichi doesn't do shit with his girl, that's all I'm hearing."

"Waah? No, he definitely does! I think?"

He drowns out the background noises as he pulls out his phone and hovers over the Uber app. Hopefully, his teammates will forget about this interaction by tomorrow morning.

And while Isagi knows that it shouldn't matter, he would be lying to himself if he hadn't thought about taking things to the next level with you. Still, he feels like it shouldn't be his choice to decide the pace of the relationship. He's an average student in terms of academic performance and has already secured a spot on the national team before graduation. On the other hand, you're currently studying almost every night to keep your scholarship and aspire to get into graduate school. Isagi would be absolutely floored if he suddenly became a distraction — your distraction.

Which explains why during the course of the six-month relationship the most that you guys have gone far with is second base: makeout sessions and basically anything that's above the waistline.

Instead of heading back to his apartment, Isagi finds himself typing in your campus address into the Uber search bar. He doesn't really know why but maybe the combination of the alcohol and vulnerable conversations tonight really messed something in his weird brain. Your place is pretty close to his, so he can just walk home afterward, and plus he needs to see you to... what? To vent? Maybe that's what he needs.

It didn't take long when he finally arrived in front of your apartment. Most of the alcohol by now has settled down, so hopefully he doesn't look like a mess when he sees you.

Isagi rings the bell. There’s a moment’s silence, then a shuffling, the sound of the door clicking in the lock, and —

"Yoichi?"

Your hair is down and slightly damp as if you had just come out of the shower not long ago. You're wearing one of Isagi's old shirts that he gave you on one of your earlier dates, a large graphic tee featuring a faded-out character from a show he doesn't remember. The shirt hangs barely past your thighs and... Isagi's eyes bug out just a bit because of course you're not wearing shorts. A good deal of your thighs are exposed, and Isagi wonders why he feels so goddamn uncomfortable about that. 

He hears his name again and snaps his eyes up. "S-Sorry, is it late for you?"

Your laugh makes his stomach flip a few times. He knows it's late. It's nearly midnight but you're still making time to talk to him. God, he feels lucky to have someone who's as patient as you.

"You know you're always welcome over, right?" You step aside and motion your arms inside. "Come in, you look like you have a lot on your mind, Yoichi."

Isagi is also grateful that you like to keep the lights off when you study, excluding the tiny desk lamp you have, because the last thing he wants to happen is you making fun of his alcohol-ridden cheeks. He's pretty sure you can smell the tequila from his breath as he thanks you, and also sure that all that weird watermelon-flavored vaping smell from Karasu and Otoya is sticking to his clothes. Because you're the way you are, he knows that you'll offer to wash his clothes because the next thing you say is —

"You smell, Yoichi. And not in a good way!"

Okay, he didn't expect those exact words to fly out of your mouth, but he understands what your intentions are.

Isagi throws his hands up in defense and laughs. "The guys went a bit too hard, I know. Can't exactly help that."

He allows you to remove his jacket and you point toward your drawers. "I think I still have some of your clothes somewhere there. Just throw the rest in the hamper and I'll get to it."

And he does exactly that. Isagi ends up wearing a shirt that he could've sworn he lost forever ago and a pair of boxers that he lets you wear from time to time. It's not unusual for you to have some of his clothes since you guys have made it a tradition to try and have somewhat regular sleepovers on weekends that aren't crammed with football games and practice exams.

Once he hears your in-unit washing machine go off, he walks out and makes himself at home on your couch. It's been a long day, and he knows that he shouldn't extend his stay judging from your bookmarked textbooks and wall of sticky notes of god knows what formulas, but he finds the remote and flips on the television.

Oh, perfect. It seems that the show you two were binging from days ago is still paused.

"Hey," You plop down next to him and curl up to his side. Isagi tries his best to not stare at your thighs. "Wanna tell me what's on your mind?"

Isagi finds his shoulders immediately relaxing at your words and lets his mouth run with a small pout accompanying his lips afterward. "For the record, everyone was drunk so I doubt they would remember tomorrow, but they were pretty nosy about our sex lives."

You blink and tip your head. "Oh, well did you tell them?"

Isagi groans, breaking eye contact, and lifts a hand to his head to rub away the incoming headache. "No, I don't think they'll let go of it if I've told them."

It's stupid and irrational, Isagi knows that for sure. But he really doesn't want his private business being spread around by a bundle of testosterone and egotistical college guys. Not with your name in the mix.

"Then, do you want to change that?" You ask quietly, tugging Isagi out of his thoughts. Your words take him by complete surprise. In fact, that's the last thing he expected you to say. He'd expected more of your usual harmless complaints against his team.

Isagi withdraws back, just enough to see if maybe you're also drunk, but the sobriety of your straight face is enough to convince him that maybe you've gone insane instead. "What? We don't have to do anything just because of the guys. I want you to feel comfortable, you know?"

"I know!" You say in a rush and he flinches at your volume.

He makes out your flustered cheeks with the dim lighting from the television and suddenly you start fidgeting with the hems of your shirt. It's at that moment that Isagi takes note that he's been shamelessly staring at your thighs for god knows how long.

You bury your face into his shoulders as you continue. "Are you bored in our relationship, Yoi?"

Now Isagi is really confused and, frankly, a bit scared. Are you going to break up with him? Or do you think he's going to break up with you?

A free hand cradles your head while the other takes a tight grasp of your hands. Isagi holds you close as he places a longing kiss on your forehead. "Of course not, why on earth would you even think that? Is everything alright?"

He feels your body squirming around for a bit and then a shaky sigh. "We just—we never do anything. I don’t want you to feel embarrassed when you’re around your friends."

Ah shit, that’s where he fucked up.

"Hey, sorry I didn’t mean to come off that way. I’m not ashamed of what we currently do. I just think it’s best to keep things private to ourselves at the end of the day as opposed to sharing it with others." He explains.

"But don’t you ever just wanna do more than making out?"

He blinks and his mouth gapes. "What?"

"All we ever do is make out, you don’t touch me anywhere else but my chest… don't you want to go further?" Your voice lowers significantly at the last bit. 

You’re still not looking to meet his gaze. And you’re actively trying not to because Isagi feels the weight of your head leaning against his body more. He doesn’t push it and instead accepts it. Clearly, this is something that he didn’t foresee. Maybe you’re also like him, uncertain and awkward about bringing up the topic. 

Isagi arranges his face in the most neutral expression, ignoring his thundering heart, before lifting your head off his shoulders. "Then do you want to mess around a bit?"

You answer in a way that makes him melt. Your arms sling around his neck, lips soon finding solitude against his, seemingly not caring if his breath does smell one too many shots of alcohol from earlier. Isagi is taken aback by your sudden boldness and it takes him a moment to register what’s going on before returning the same energy back. A quick swipe from your tongue is all he needs to know that you’ve been touch-starved for too long.

You're straddling his lap now and the boxers Isagi's currently wearing is doing a rather poor job of masking the huge tent that's grinding right against you. He pulls away from the heated kiss, watching in a daze as a trail of salvia connects between you two, and winces when he feels your weight pressing against his length. 

"W-Wait, slow down a bit…" He tries to lift you up but you stay steady in his lap.

Your hands rest on his chest and you shake your head. "I wanna go all the way tonight. Can we do that, Yoichi?" There’s something about the way his name rolls off your tongue that sets Isagi off but he has to make about one thing.

"Are you sure? Like positive?"

And the heat in your gaze holds a clear promise — you want this more than anything.

He tries to lift you up slightly again, and this time you follow along. Isagi feels you flinch under his touch as his calloused fingers trace their way down to your panties, toying with the lace ribbon at the front before slipping underneath the cotton fabric. It’s completely soaked through and the way his index finger easily slides between your folds has you almost crying out in embarrassment. 

“Baby,” Isagi hisses through his teeth as he gets familiar with the foreign gummy walls. “All this for me?”

Your boldness from before seems to have dissipated once Isagi took control. You only sigh in response when Isagi nips at the space between your neck and shoulder. Isagi groans against your skin when you find yourself sinking deeper into his finger from the touch.

“Touch me more, please…” 

Having you this close to him, holding him, spilling out these phrases that he didn’t expect to hear, it’s all too much for Isagi. His lips reconnect with yours again, this time with more force and desperation. Your body shudders and twitches under his palm as he picks up his rhythm, inserting an additional finger and then a third one. 

“Does that feel good, baby? Tell me how you like it.” Isagi pays close attention to the small shifts on your face as he attempts to stretch out your walls bit by bit. “Let me know if it’s too much and I’ll stop.”

You bury your face deep into his shoulders once more. “Don’t stop, it feels really good, Yoichi.” It’s his turn to twitch when he feels a hand palming at his own arousal. “Can I have a turn, too?” You have no idea how much weight your words carry. A simple question like that makes Isagi’s stomach twist in knots.

“Y-Yeah, you can.”

The position is a bit awkward but, eventually, it ends with your hands engulfing around his throbbing length poking out from his boxers while he’s knuckle-deep in your entrance. The slick, wet sounds coming from your folds is the only audible noise in the room, other than your occasional mews and Isagi's muffled grunts as you pump him off.

When his length is embarrassingly covered in his pre, Isagi releases his digits from your warmth. "I'm going to finish at this rate, baby." He breathes out.

You shyly meet his eyes, both of you jolting at the incredibly warm and slippery mess you've created from playing with each other when you line his length against your entrance. "I'm going to put it in, Yoi." Your voice is shaky and your free hand grips his thigh as you slowly descend.

Isagi breathes out a raspy gasp as he watches your heat swallow his length. Seeing his arousal disappear inch by inch is a sight that he’ll burn in his mind forever and, when your walls squeeze around him, it takes everything in his power to not cum right then and there. His hands immediately find home on your hips, thumbs digging into the sides and his digits kneading at the flesh of your ass. You’re tight, hot, and overwhelming all at the same time. The feeling consumes him entirely.

"Fuck," Isagi throws his head back and screws his eyes shut. "Don't move—give me a second."

You moan in return, eyes shifting away from the sight. "Take your time, Yoi."

Isagi lets you cockwarm him for a few seconds, feeling himself slowly calming down as he adjusts to your tight walls and begins to thrust slowly. You don't bother shielding your moans, and it makes things all just a bit harder for him to concentrate.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing, only going off of what he’s seen from the occasional porn videos he’s seen. Isagi thinks he’s doing a decent job, even though his mind is going absolutely crazy right now. Your erratic moans are right against his ears and the sounds coming from your warmth are the only things keeping him in check. Isagi’s palms rest steadily on your ass as he continues plundering in and out of your sloppy folds from the couch. It isn’t long before you’re shaking and sweating against him, making your earlier shower completely pointless.

You cry out, over-sensitive and shaky, clenching down on him. Isagi's vision gets hazy and soon he realizes that his eyes are misting over, small pools of tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, threatening to smear his cheeks. He'd never expected something like this can render him so weak.

Your voice grows hoarse from the volume you're emitting and Isagi hopes you don't receive a noise complaint from your neighbors tomorrow. He leans forward, helpless to let your cries go unanswered, and smothers the noises with his mouth. Your ass meets every thrust he pushes forward and feeling the familiar heat building up in his stomach, Isagi knows he isn't going to last that much longer.

One of his hands snakes up your shirt and cups one of your breasts, toying with your nipple, while the other hovers over your clit. He feels your entire body trembling, chest heaving, and walls throbbing all around him. "Yoichi, it's too good...!"

"Hold out just a bit longer, baby." Isagi's thumb begins circling your bud and it's the final push for you. Your mouth tilts forward, hips bucking and grinding, and you squeeze him so tight that he doesn't have the time to pull out, coating your walls with his white mess. Everything feels hot like fire spreading across his entire body.

Once he feels your body slack against his, he snaps out of his thoughts and immediately pulls out, grimacing at the sheer amount of cum that flows out of you.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I'll run to the store tomorrow morning, baby." His breathing is labored but he still manages to press his lips to your forehead, and he inhales. "You did amazing."

"Mhmm," You make a vague noise that sounds like a bit like acknowledgment to his ears.

Isagi loosens his arms around your body, shifting your figure to sit up by the edge of the couch, and waddles to the bathroom to fetch a damp towel. When he returns, your eyes are half-lidded and you look like you're one second away from passing out from exhaustion. He's not sure if it's from the sex or that you probably stayed up all day studying.

When the sounds of his footsteps come closer, you peer up and lock eyes, taking his breath away. "Will you stay the night?" And he almost laughs on the spot.

"I'm not gonna do a hit and run, baby. You really think I'm doing that?"

He removes your ruined panties and cleans up the cum running down your inner thighs. After fetching you a set of new underwear, he finds the last of his strength for the night and scoops you up, moving only a few feet to the comfort of your twin-sized mattress. Isagi tucks you in slightly, leaving enough room for him to slide in when he changes into a new pair of bottoms.

"You're too nice to be an ass, I guess." You reply, tracing small patterns onto his chest.

He slings an arm over you, pulling you closer, and lets one of your legs rest over his stomach. "Hey, I can be mean when I want to!" Isagi shoots back.

Your chuckles send vibrations down his chest. "So, are you going to tell your friends about tonight?"

"Fuck no," Isagi presses another kiss to your head again and tightens his grip around you. "I don't even want to know what they do with that information." There's a pause and he blinks. "Are you going to tell anyone?"

You stay quiet for a while and Isagi groans, knowing the exact person you were going to text when the opportunity arrives. "Just Rin! You know that we're best friends, right?"

Ugh, he doesn't really want his rival to know about his sex life but he can't exactly stop you from talking about these types of things to your childhood friend. Isagi rubs circles into your back and pouts slightly. "Keep the details to a minimum."

"No promises, Yoichi." But he knows that you're only joking. And even if you did spew all the details to Rin, at least Isagi can sleep peacefully at night knowing that the other male minds own his business.

A yawn escapes from your lips and you snuggle deeper against his body. "Do you have a busy day tomorrow?"

"Nah, everything's pretty much wrapped up for me." He responds, feeling the fatigue catching up as well. "Did you want me to stay over again tomorrow?"

"Only if you promise to add a pack of condoms to the shopping list."

He smiles, jotting down the mental note before shutting his eyes. "Anything for you, baby."

another note: hehe ty for making it this far!! idk why i named it seven minutes in heaven bc it has nothing to do w the game but lets just say the whole sex experience lasted seven mins bc that's p normal for first time ig??

[luveline]

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

you start to second guess your relationship when eddie doesn't waylay you with his usual abundance of kisses after work. meanwhile, eddie tries to work out what's upsetting you, how to fix it, and most urgently, how to ask you a super important question. fem!reader, 5k

cw: eddie skipping meals at work, suggestive flirting

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

Eddie's borrowed headphones slip down your head as you dance. Nothing dramatic, a shoulder wiggle as you do the dishes. You can't hear the racket you're making, plates crashing into one another on the drying rack, the hot water pounding the basin, the clip of your sock-clad foot against wooden slats as you tap it. 

Your hands burn at the high temperature. Your fingertips are pruned, palms chapped as you finish washing Eddie's mountain of dishes. His whole apartment was in similar disarray before you arrived, laundry to the eyes and one of his haphazard book towers collapsed in the bedroom. The dishes had been scraped and rinsed but not washed, the laundry designated to one corner of the bathroom; Eddie's not unclean, necessarily, but unfocused. 

You had time. You don't mind coming over to help him out. 

Though if he knew you were here doing this he'd blow a gasket. I don't want you wasting your time doing shit I should've done a week ago, he'd say. 

It isn't time that matters to you. You'd take a couple of days out if it helped him, if it meant he could enjoy the place he lives to the fullest extent. Plus, you spend time here too. And you get to borrow his Walkman the whole time. Eddie has the best tapes. 

You hum along to the finishing line of the song and set the last clean cup upside down on the draining board. Satisfied at a job well done, you wipe the sink basin clean, drain suds from the sponge, and turn off the water. Cool air floats in through the open window, kissing your lightly perspiring skin hello. 

You dry your hands on a cloth and push Eddie's headphones carefully down to your neck, more than careful with his things. He works hard for everything he has, days and nights and any shift they want him to take. Most of it goes into his savings account. His spare change gets dropped into a washed out pasta sauce jar on the sill for a forthcoming rainy day. Ridiculous amounts of it get spent on you, and if you asked Eddie he'd say it was perfectly reasonable, sweetheart. 

You're not asking him. You don't think new clothes and sweet treats nearly every time you see him counts as reasonable, but you'd be a liar if you said you didn't appreciate it. 

Hence your unsanctioned use of his spare key. You buy him treats too, but money can't buy the satisfaction of a clean home. (Well, it could. Hiring a day maid might've been quicker and cleaner in the end, but would a day maid have put their heart and soul into dusting his figurines with a makeup brush for fifteen minutes?)

You turn around with Eddie on your mind, feeling grateful and tired at once. Your thoughts stutter at the warm body standing casually in the doorway, his shoulder pressed to the jam, a rucksack and a carabiner of keys hanging from his curled fingers. 

"Hey," Eddie says. 

You flinch like he's coming at you, startled by his sudden appearance. 

His laugh is apologetic, at least. "Woah! I thought you heard me, where's your head?" 

You slap a hand to your racing heart and huff out a breath that fans up your face. Eddie straightens from his cool guy slouch, dropping his keys on the counter and sliding his bag beside them. 

"It's around here somewhere," you say through a smile, trying and failing to glare at him as he puts his hands on your waist. "You scared me bad." 

"It was accidental." 

He pulls your hips to his and leans back. A close pressure without being particularly sexual. It's obvious that he's looking you over, like you might've miraculously run into harm in the sixteen hours you've been apart. 

"I didn't think you'd be back yet, sorry," you say breathlessly, still recuperating from your scare. 

"I'm the sorry one." 

He brings a hand to your face. If there's one thing you can count on with your boyfriend, it's that he's going to find an excuse to touch your face at least once a day, whether it be with the back of a ring-heavy finger trailing down your cheek lightly, or a flat, hot palm, calluses scratching ever so slightly as he squeezes it into whatever shape he feels like. Never cruel, but melding. 

He's in a mood. 

Not salacious. Teasing at most, he pulls a rough line down from the corner of your eye to your lips. 

"Why are you doing my dishes?" he asks. 

His hands smell like citrus scrub and white vinegar. They must've had him cleaning in the kitchen at work again. 

"So you wouldn't have to. I know you don't mean to let them pile up." 

"I'll find my laundry in the dryer, I'm guessing." 

"Nope. Folded in your dresser, more like."

He pulls your chest to his, the heat of his breath kissing your nose. It smells like the spearmint gum he chews obsessively during his morning shifts. Eddie has a theory that eating in the mornings is breaking a seal —you'll be much hungrier for the rest of the day than you would've been otherwise. Better to wait for lunch. 

You hate his theory (three meals a day plus as many snacks as he needs would be perfect,  if he could find the time) and his gum for what it represents. It reminds you that he likely hasn't eaten today, and you're quick to start brainstorming ideas for dinner from the ingredients you'd seen while cleaning. He has ground beef, enough eggs to make pasta, and a tupperware of frozen soup from last Wednesday. The world's your oyster. 

"What are you thinking about?" he asks. You don't have time to answer. "I wish you didn't do all the laundry, babe. Those stairs are a fucking killer." 

He leans that last inch. A kiss is coming any second now, your pulse capering between your ears. A hundred kisses shared between you and you wait for the next with the same calibre of excitement as you did for the first. 

"I owe you a deep tissue massage, right?" he murmurs. 

You beam at him, pushing the heel of your palm against his chest to widen the distance between you into something a little less heart-pounding. "You haven't eaten today, have you?" 

"I'm pretty hungry," he says, his voice smooth as angora silk. 

He looks, again, like he might kiss you. His eyes dip to your lips, a molten brown shining in the kitchen light. You wait, and you wait, but he doesn't close the gap. 

You push your smile to one side, your eyelashes twined in the corners from the force of it. Your smile isn't entirely genuine. It's cool if he doesn't wanna kiss you… sort of. He can do whatever he likes, of course, you'd never force him to kiss you just to keep you happy or for any other reason, but you're a little down at the idea that he doesn't want to. You love how they feel. You're used to them as both hello and goodbye. 

Eddie might not want to kiss you, but he isn't putting on a show, his amorous smirking a reality you battle with (read: give in to, enjoy, daydream about) on the regular. Perhaps he isn't eager to ravish you after a full day bussing tables. That's more than okay. 

However he might be feeling, you aren't going to let him go hungry a minute longer. "Dinner?" you ask. 

"I was thinking sloppy Joes," he says, his hand running down your arm. He turns for the fridge. You follow. "Brioche buns?" 

You step in front of him, the fridge door a cacophony of glass rattling as you tug it open. "I'm making them." 

Eddie wraps his arms around you, moving you bodily to the side. It's too quick for you to dig your heels in. 

"You used to be a gentleman," you complain. 

"No, I didn't." He taps your ankle with the rubber toe of his converse. 

You make dinner together, to each other's chagrin. Eddie steals spatulas and frying pan handles from your grip. You bump his hip away from the stove grill to toast buns. When you sit down together on the couch, it's at war, elbows digging into soft spots and cups placed out of reach on the coffee table. 

"Dick," you say. 

Eddie takes a bite, says, "You're the dick, dick," and starts shovelling fries onto your plate. "Giving me more fries is ridiculous. We should eat the same portions, we're the same age." 

"But one of us had breakfast and lunch, and one of us didn't," you say, using your fork to give his gifted fries straight back. 

And here's where you get the first inkling that something's making him not want to kiss you, emphasis on you. 

Eddie loves kissing you when he feels loved. For obvious starters, whenever you tell him you love him he makes sure to kiss your lips. When you make him laugh, when you wash his hair in the shower, when you draw stars into his palms, all those things garner a fond peck to the temple. He kisses the space just under your ear so often you're sure there's a contusion in the shape of his mouth there, permanent and purpling, his go-to whenever he's laying on top of you or hugging you from behind. 

You can count on a mildly greasy kiss no matter the meal. Eddie loves eating dinner together. He waits for you to get home, sometimes for hours, to share a plate with you. You've never not indulged him with a kiss. Tonight, he doesn't ask. 

It would be here. Name-calling dripping in affection, you elbow glancing off of his as you cut into your sloppy Joe, and the TV failing to cover the sound of a quick kiss before he digs in. You're gutted at the lack and surprised to have noticed it, but you don't go so far as to mourn the loss: Eddie's likely too hungry to think about kissing, that's all. Right?

Despite attempts to convince you otherwise, he's hungry. He finishes his plate in what feels like five big bites, hair tucked behind his ears, an innocent but far off look about him as he wipes his fingers in a piece of kitchen towel and leans back into the couch cushions with a small groan. 

"We should stop eating on the couch," he says. 

"You told me you wanted to sit here." You're confused. 

"It's like, testing fate. I'm a mess. I'll ruin it and have to get a new one I can't afford." 

You chew on a fry. "I mean," —you put your hand over your mouth, pleased when he turns to you with a ready-made smile, like the act of just looking at you is one he enjoys— "even if you drop something on it, we can Didi Seven it. Or get one of those fancy water vacuum things." 

"It's my couch," he says. "You wouldn't have to clean it." 

"You're my boyfriend," you respond, "so I wouldn't mind." 

"I'm your boyfriend," he says, his head tilted ever so slightly to one side. 

His lips close, his eyes tracking up and along the lines of your features with an unnameable emotion in his gaze. You'd like to say that it's love, but you're starting to think it's something else. 

"Don't say it like that. You sound too unsure," you say.

Amusement dances across his face. "Are you finished?" he asks, opening his hand for your tray. 

"No," you say, faux-stroppy. You take another fry. 

Eddie grabs his tray. He skirts around your legs and stops at your side. In his more dopey moods, he'd take your face into his hand again and hold your head still as he kisses your crown. 

He squeezes your shoulder. "I'm not unsure about anything," he says warmly. "I'll get you a drink, yeah? Ice?" 

A chuck under the chin with his forefinger and he's gone, leaving you sitting there wondering what's wrong with him. Home an hour now and not one single kiss? Is this the end of the honeymoon phase? How do people survive this shit, you think. It's agonising.

Your chewing turns morose. 

You and Eddie go through phases, waxing and waning, as most people do. There's always love there, but sometimes there's so much of it you don't know what to do with yourself besides lavish in it. Only yesterday morning he'd been in your bed, shirtless (as you often wish he'd be), dark ink like bruises in the low light where it climbed the lengths of his arms and his bare chest. You were lax under his touch, his nose and lips pressing to your skin as he kissed you from rib to soft tummy. Slow, kissing you as though he had nowhere else to be but there. As though his next shift wasn't thirty minutes around the corner. 

You were mortified when he blew a raspberry. Now you're thinking you might peel out of your shirt and ask him to do it again if it means he'll kiss you in any definition. 

"What are you thinking about?" he asks as he returns, his hand sliding along from your shoulder to the other while he steps over your legs. 

"What are you thinking about?" you ask. 

"Feeling very repetitive today, are we?" he teases, no consideration for your dinner tray as he collapses into the seat beside you. 

You're expecting his cheek on your shoulder, his hair tickling your upper arm. It doesn't come. Worried he's discouraged by your tray, you place it on the coffee table and sit back. You really want him to kiss you. 

Kissing someone isn't something you thought you'd want to do before you met Eddie. To be kissed, sure. To give a chaste peck, absolutely. But to have someone put their weight on you, to press at the seam of your lips with their own and to wade in like a steady wave, one breath at a time, until you're unsure where the boundary of your mouth begins and his ends, that was all new. Eddie kisses like he loves, loud and brash, rough and eager. Gentle when he needs to be but arduous. 

He makes you feel wanted in a thousand ways and the first is his greedy penchant for stealing a kiss or three at every opportunity. It's weird that he hasn't kissed you yet. He's acting weird. 

"You're being super weird," you say. You feel like a pressure cooker with steam pouring from the release valve. 

Eddie smirks at you. "That so? Any explanation attached to that, or are we name-calling? I have some names for you, if we are." 

"Oh, I have to know." 

"Figured you would." He throws his leg over your thigh. The firm muscle of it tenses as he wiggles his foot. 

"What were you gonna call me?" you prompt impatiently.   

"Sweetheart. Angel." He turns his cheek into the back of the couch, bringing his pinky to your face and drawing a line from the smoothest skin under your eye outward. "Pretty. Very pretty." 

"Says you," you murmur. If he thinks you're so pretty, why won't he kiss you? "I can't work out your angle today." 

"Am I acting differently?" he asks, seemingly unperturbed. 

No. He just hasn't kissed you. There might have been a moment when he first came home where you thought he was hesitating to kiss you, but since then he's acted exactly as he usually does (minus kissing, therefore making it unusual). 

You sigh, half serious and half wanton sadness. "No." His nose twitches. You startle. "What?" 

"Nothing." 

"What, do I have bad breath?" you ask, bringing a hurried palm to your mouth to try and test it. 

Eddie pulls your hand down, admonishing through a laugh, "You obviously don't. You know I'd tell you, babe." 

"Oh." 

"I got gum though, if you want it." 

You bat his chest. "I bet you do… I don't know what it is, then. I give up." 

"What's what?" he asks. He takes a curl of his hair around a painted fingernail. It coils on his finger, where he pinches the end, bringing it up to your chin and drawing a smile under your lips with the tip. 

"I… do I have something in my teeth? A zit? What's the issue?" you ask, lost. 

"There's no issue!" He laughs, and he curves his hand gently around your neck. "Why do you think there's an issue?" he asks. A thread of his voice wavers. Impossible to notice if you didn't know everything about him, down to the stray hair. 

"No, because," —your voice shrinks— "you're being off with me." You won't cry, but it's impossible to stop the doubt that seeps into your voice. "You're not…" 

Eddie strokes your neck with his thumb, growing serious. "I'm not what?" 

"You haven't kissed me." You avoid his eyes. "Not since you saw me." 

"I'm sorry," he says, immediately dipping forward. 

You pull back. "Wait–" 

Eddie waits. "What?" he asks. 

"I don't want you to kiss me just 'cus I asked you to." 

Eddie pushes his hand upward, his index finger shaped to your jawline. He rubs a quarter circle from your chin to your jaw tentatively with his thumb, an awful sorry look in his eyes that he gets whenever you're upset. "Well, I always want to kiss you," he confesses. His eyebrows furrow. "You know that, right?" 

"But you haven't, today." 

Is that pathetic? you panic. Noticing, caring, it feels so, so silly all of a sudden, you can't believe you spilled it that easily. You may as well have written clingy loser across your forehead in glaring pen. 

Eddie sees it. He doesn't cringe at you like you fear he will. 

"Ah," he says, almost humming, his lips barely parted, "that's just not okay, is it? My girl waiting on a kiss." 

He leans in. You shy away, wanting his kiss but wanting the run up more. Eddie follows your lead, keeping space between you, rubbing a diligent and affectionate circle into your cheek. His touch is soft enough to tickle. 

"I'm not trying to act desperate, I just figured– I thought there was a reason you hadn't," you say. 

Eddie asks you in his softest, most genial tones if he can kiss you. 

You don't say yes so much as you lift your chin and close your eyes. Your relief is sharp as he closes the fizzing space between you, as he guides your face to his and holds it there like a treasured pearl cupped in two palms. He makes a sound at the back of his throat that kills any doubts of his affection stone cold dead. Your lips part a millimetre if that, and Eddie slots into the gap, his hands growing less and less careful by the second, the pressure of his touch amping up. He moves back only long enough to turn his head, your noses bumping, another breathy sound slipping past his lips. You smother it gracelessly with a rougher reciprocation. 

It's not your longest kiss, but it works. It's the reassurement you needed. Eddie pulls away to suck in a harsh breath, the feeling foreign against your tingling lips. His face dips, his eyes out of view. His hands move in twin down the slope of your neck, languish, feel along the thin layer of your t-shirt as though he's looking for some secret answer. 

"I'm not trying to act weird around you, I'm just nervous," he says.

You feel your back aching, stiff as a rod. "Nervous?" you ask quietly. 

Eddie rests his forehead on your chin. He whispers a cuss, and then he sits up very tall and looks you in the eye. 

It takes him five seconds to tell you what it is that's making him anxious. In that time, you come up with a handful of things. I lost my job. I don't want to be with you anymore. There's someone else. There's no one else, but you did something that pissed me off/made me uncomfortable/disgusted me. I'm sick. None of your guesses are good, and none prepare you for what he asks next. 

"Would you wanna move in with me?" 

His hand meanders along your thigh. An awkward smile catches his lip like a fish hook, tugging it up on one side. 

"I… what?" 

"I think it's a good idea. I was trying to ask you yesterday, and now today it didn't feel right. I don't want you thinking I'm asking because you did my laundry." His hand warms your thigh, a pervasive heat. Your face is similarly hot. "We could split rent, and you could keep saving. You wouldn't have to deal with your shitty neighbours. You'd be closer to your job, and– and to me. It's a good idea," he repeats. "There's a ton of reasons it would be good for you, but I'm asking 'cus I missed you so bad last night I couldn't sleep. I wanna be with you whenever we can be." 

"You'd really want me to?" you ask. 

"You'd never have to wait for a kiss again," he says hopefully. "I know it's a big move. I get it if you're not ready." 

"I'm ready," you say. You don't know it's true until you've said it aloud. 

Delight sparks and catches like sun-dried tinder. Elation lights his eyes. "Holy shit, yeah? You want to?" 

"Yeah," you say, nodding emphatically, trying not to yell. "Yes, I want to. I'd love to! That would be–" 

"A dream," he finishes, snatching your waist into his grasp, basically yanking you into his arms.

"Amazing," you say, your arms forced over his shoulders. 

You wrap your arms around the back of his head, curls that smell of almond oil and a generous dollop of hair mousse crushed to your face. Your eyes slip closed. You suck in an inconspicuous breath, though your self-indulgent action is interrupted by a groan, Eddie squeezing you hard enough to make the bones in your back click three at a time. 

"I can't believe you, sweetheart. I don't kiss you for an hour and you think there's something wrong?" He laughs.

"I'm spoiled," you say sheepishly. To draw his attention, you add, "I can't believe you, afraid to ask me that! Why would I say no? I love you." 

"I love you, too," he says, pulling the small of your back tighter still so he can dig his nose into the side of your head. 

He kisses you all over the side of your face until you're painted in little warm patches from overexposure. A loved up mess, and dizzy with relief.

Relief and excitement. "How soon do you want me in here?" you ask, sitting back. 

"How soon do you want another kiss?" he asks. 

"Will we be stealing each other's questions all day?" you ask. 

"For the rest of time, if I get my way." 

"That's so corny," you whisper, ecstatic. 

Eddie pushes you down onto the couch cushions. You know before he so much as pulls up a knee that he's going to climb on top of you. You make room for him, your heart feeling like it could breach through your ribs one bone at a time. 

"What are you doing?" you whisper with a smile. 

"Making up for lost kisses."

—

Two Weeks Later

Eddie wakes to a kiss. 

Your arm thrown over his waist, your hand feeling greedily at the trim curve atop his hip, you've well and truly wrapped yourself around him. Like an octopus. He imagines the popping sound of your suckers if he tried to detach you (not that he'd want to). 

You're dotting shy, soft kisses down the column of his throat. "I love you," you say softly between them, a melody that turns him to jelly. "I love you. Love you, love you, love you." 

Your kisses are a compromise —after the general holy fucking shit-ism of your conversation a fortnight ago, Eddie put his foot down. He was out of his mind knowing his apartment was about to become yours, but he was also incredibly unhappy about the faces you'd made before he asked. He remembers your voice, your apprehension as you mumbled, "No, because, you're being off with me."  

Eddie had been totally off trying to figure out how to ask what was potentially the second most important question he could ever ask you; he was distracted enough by it that he totally forgot about kissing you senseless. And your worrying asked a totally new question he hadn't thought of before. Why does Eddie always kiss you first? And why had the lack of a kiss been seen as a bar, and not an invitation? 

Hence Project Kiss Me, Stupid. Or Project Kiss Me Stupid if he's feeling particularly in love (because you aren't stupid at all, but you may have made an unintelligent assumption (Eddie not kissing you for a few hours did not mean even slightly that he isn't gross in love). 

The project was more like a proposal. Eddie decided you should be making the first move more often, so you weren't ever left feeling like something was wrong between you for lack of a kiss again. "If you ever think I'm mad at you, plant one on me. I promise I won't be mad much longer," he told you.

You're passing with flying colours, as far as he's concerned. Eddie thinks your moving in was gift enough, but fuck, all these kisses? He's been a walking vestibule of love, and lust, and sickening fondness for two weeks now. Project Kiss Me Stupid is the best thing that's ever happened to him. He's a genius.

"Good morning," you say into his neck, a hint of teeth scratching him with the greeting. Eddie cups the back of your head with a weak, tired groan as your lips close over his pulse.

"Morning," he says. His voice is thick with the grit of sleep. 

"This is okay?" you ask, pausing in your kiss. 

Eddie tips his head back heavily into plush pillows, your pillows, fresh with new bedding to match the nightstands you'd decided on together. "Please," he says. His arm slides behind your back to belt you in. "I'm gonna think you don't like me anymore if you take any longer." 

"Very funny," you murmur. 

He knows he's forgiven for teasing when your face dives back into the crook of his neck. His eyes shutter closed, blissed, thinking, God, I could get used to this, when you nip him. 

"You didn't like my joke, I take it?" 

"It was funny," you say, giving him a scratching kiss.

"That's counter-intuitive," he warns. "I like it rough." 

You fall away from him to cover your face with both hands. He knows he's rubbing off on you at the sight, your head shaking a theatrical side to side that fails to hide real embarrassment beneath it. You look especially tortured. 

Eddie knows exactly how to fix it. 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

thanks so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed!

[partycatty]

dark star!johnny cage > when i met you

johnny wants nothing more than to corrupt the pretty thing you are

warnings: we all know ds!jc is a piece of shit by now, have you read my other fics of him? LOL

notes: @iliketangerines ;)

MORE DS!JC > part 1* / part 2* / part 3* / part 4* / part 5* / part 6*

[ masterlist ]

• when johnny first laid his eyes on you, he was floored by just how... cute you were! there was a genuine attraction, he called it love at first sight, you called it "he asked me out 40 times until i said yes."

• in a literal sense, you were like a sweet little pet to him, something he wanted to leash and train to behave properly, to know how to be a star just like he was (though, you could never be at his level. he said so himself.)

• he would do absolutely anything for a single glance from you, from wearing his most expensive coat to spending an absolutely ridiculous amount of money at your workplace. with all these riches and no one to share with, he was ready to throw everything at you so you'd smile his way.

• johnny would sit in the corner of where you worked, covering his mouth with his palm and eyeing you down through his obnoxiously lavish sunglasses. you knew his gaze was on you, you always had, and it made you sweat bullets.

• lovebombing. he'd purr about what a good girl you are, how much he adores your every action, how he just wants to whisk you away and keep you for himself. johnny wanted you to fold quickly and easily; he was the cagester, nobody turns him down.

• he did actually love you in the beginning, as he would sit awake at night and fantasize about you sharing his giant bed with him. he wanted to toy with your hair, whisper sweet nothings, surprise you with gifts.

• you'd be the only think on his mind at the late hours in all senses. he wanted to fuck you stupid and then some, make you choke and slap you around until you served him like the toy you were.

• you were ensnared in his trap, the one he placed from the very beginning. you were charmed and it would lead to the worst mental downfall of your entire life.

• but, at the same time, he was so good to you. you lived the good life as tiring as it may be. johnny had no off switch, partying and blowing his money just to show you he could. you weren't going to find a better man than him, so you thought. not that he'd let you run off and choose another, anyway.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Starved (Alec Hardy)

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are: open and encouraged

Summary: Alec discovers you fantasise about his tongue. A lot.

CW: oral (reader receiving), no pronouns but reader does have a vagina, vaginal fingering, squirting, overstimulation

Broadchurch tag list: @clarina04 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

There was just something about the way that Alec spoke that enraptured you. The accent, the way his lips moved around the words. His tongue. God, Alec’s tongue. The amount of time you had spent fantasising about having Alec’s tongue buried inside you was, well, ridiculous. 

“Eh, love? You alright? Not sayin’ much.” 

You’re only pulled about halfway out of the trance when you reply- 

“Sorry- thinking about your tongue.” It only takes a further second for you to snap completely out of it and realise what you’ve just said. “Oh, shit.” 

Your cheeks go beet red and you slap a hand over your face in mild horror. Alec’s not usually a cocky bastard, but the way a smirk twists its way across his lips just drips with sin. Your breath hitches and Alec’s fingers reach out to caress up your thigh. Unconsciously, your leg twitches into his fingers. A silent plea for more. 

“What ‘bout it? Huh? Thinkin’ ‘bout my tongue?” 

You bite your lip as his grin turns darker. You nod, and his fingers trail up your thigh towards your sides. He moves closer. You can see the bulge growing in his trousers. It’s all you can do not to whimper- the memories of having him buried inside you to the hilt, fucking into you- oh this had to stop. But then again, you didn’t want it to. 

“Yeah,” you reply breathily. “God, I want your tongue on my clit.” 

Alec chuckles at your bold statement. Now that was unexpected of you.

“Spread your fuckin’ legs then, darlin’,” he replies with a nonchalant shrug. A moment later he’s beside you and pulling your chair away from the table. You let out a sound that’s halfway between a whimper and a yelp and spread your legs for him as he kicks your feet apart softly. 

Another moment and he’s between your legs, spreading your folds with his fingers and licking a flat stripe up your clit. You groan, sinking back in the chair and you feel the puff of air hit your core as he chuckles at your reaction. 

“Please, Alec?” 

Alec doesn’t make you beg. He wraps his lips around your clit, sucks it into his mouth and flicks the tip of his tongue back and forth over you mercilessly. His fingers reach around to grip at your ass and tug you closer to the edge of the chair. He eats you like a man starved, salivating at the taste of your pretty little cunt. 

“Oh, I could eat you for days,” he groans, breaking away to catch his breath. Your hips wiggle as the stimulation stops and as recompense, he pushes two fingers inside you, eyes entranced by the view of them inside you. Your cunt clenches around them and he laughs. “You like that, eh? Bet you do. Love having your pretty pussy stuffed like this.” 

Your head drops back against the chair and you spread your legs impossibly wider. Alec approves if the way he crooks his fingers just right for you is any idea. 

Another moment and his fingers are pulling out and his tongue is replacing them. Alec has to press himself as close to your flesh as possible to get his tongue as far as he can into your hole. You cry out, fingers digging into his scalp and holding him there. 

Alec flicks his tongue inside you and rubs the tip of his nose against your clit as he does so. You keen, thighs trembling with the effort of not closing around his head and popping his eardrums. 

One of his hands snakes around your thigh so his thumb can rub at your swollen clit. 

“Fuh-huh-uuck,” you moan, grinding your hips against his mouth and thumb. He feels so good, and there’s no way you’re not going to cum on his tongue in the next few seconds. “Fuck, Alec- shit- I’m- I’m close. God, please.” 

Alec laughs into your cunt as best he can with his tongue buried halfway into your core and he moves his thumb faster. You twitch and shake as the stimulation brings you closer and closer before-

“Oh, God- fucking fuck- fuck, Alec!” 

Your fingers yank against his hair, grinding yourself against his tongue as you ride out your high. Waves of pleasure roll over you while the continuing stimulation on your clit makes you shudder and twitch. 

He pulls his face away from your sopping cunt once he’s had his fill of your pussy and you grin tiredly at the blissful, wet mess that is his face. You can see your slick on his cheeks and chin. He wipes his mouth with the back of his spare hand. The sight of him panting, eyes black with lust does things to you. 

All of a sudden, his fingers are rubbing against your clit again hard and fast. You yelp, hips twisting to try and get away from the overstimulation. He tuts and refuses to relent. Your hips buck off the chair, fingers white-knuckling the edge of the table. 

And you cum again. But this time, you do the unthinkable and squirt. All over him. You’re shocked through the haze of pure pleasure coursing through your system, though it doesn’t stop you from making sounds a porn star wishes they could emulate. He’s grinning like a loon, rubbing at your clit like a man possessed until you have to basically all but kick him off you. 

The noise that escapes him sounds quite like disbelief, and while the main thing you can focus on is the pulsing of your overstimulated clit, you still manage a shaky “shut up.” 

“Never,” is his reply.

[neteyamslovrr]

Hello! how are ya?? May I request a boyfriend Ao'nung with sully!reader? thank you so much <3

Boyfriend Ao'nung

summary: headcanons of ao'nung being a cutie patootie bf!!

fem!sullyreader

──── ⑅*❀*⑅ ────

Ao’nung being a boyfriend to his sully girlfriend! <3

At first he was mean to you just in a different way

He’d be almost intimidated by you and how he thought you were so beautiful

Ao’nung would just straight up refuse to acknowledge your existence rather than ridiculing it

You hated that. Immensely.

So, one day you forced him to face you.

“Ao’nung! Come ride an ilu with me!” You chirped skipping over to where he laid on the sand. He grimaced hearing your voice.

“No.”

“Oh c’mon, don’t be a wuss.” His head perked up. He was no wuss, he however was one easily persuaded man when he looked at the way you glimmered in the sunlight. He might’ve drooled at the sight of you.

“Hurry up then.”

After that day, he continued to use your ‘ilu races’ as a way to continuously talk to you.

He always won, and he always managed to keep a hand on you after the races

He thought it was subtle but really his touches felt like he was ravenous for you

Now Ao’nung as you boyfriend after months of ilu races and pining you let Ao’nung call yourself his

He’d be really protective, keeping you behind him in the small amounts of hunts he took you on, keep an eye on you whenever you swam in case your breathing failed. He wanted no harm to ever come your way

The ilu races would become a weekly tradition, like a date night where you raced and when you eventually got tired you would lay on the sand watching the stars

Ao’nung loves when you take his bun out and redo his braids. He feels so close to you and to have your work on him as a trophy and memory that he was in love with the best woman he’s ever met

He’d still be tough though

Refusing your teases and pleads for him to be softer.

In the earlier days on your relationship, he would’ve been quite reserved but you let him feel comfortable enough to open up and not be the chiefs son but Ao’nung in front of you

He would get jealous easily

Never at you though, if he saw a fellow Metkayina flirt with you he’d take matters into his own hands and have you never know

(You always knew)

Overall, Ao’nung would be a protective boyfriend and he would only ever show his soft side to you.

bonus!

“Y’know Ao’nung I know you keep starting fights with the guys who talk to me.” You said to him as you comb through his hair as he lays peacefully in your lap.

He stiffens his grip on your shins slightly tightening.

“I don’t start fights. I just finish them.” You scoffed at him rolling your eyes knowing he couldn’t see

“Sure, tough guy…”

“Hey! I am tough. Look at these.” He begins to flex his arms a smile spread across his face. Slapping his arm lightly you giggled with him.

“Yes of course, you’re my tough guy.”

──── ⑅*❀*⑅ ────

authors note: just a cute little short one! i'm also clearing my inbox so i am going through my requests! i'll be writing the ones I like soon!

taglist: @aonungmybf @melovehiddlestan @dngnmtr-blo

[heeliopheelia]

"you ruined everything! i hope you're happy." (jay x fem!reader)

genre: smut word count: 0.8k requested by @jaylaxies ♡

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

warnings: unprotected sex, public sex, yn is a bit of a brat, spanking, swearing, hair pulling (if i missed anything lmk!!)

a/n: absolutely loved writing this one!! it's the first drabble for the 1k event, so i hope you guys enjoy it!! 💜

Your knuckles became white from how tightly you're gripping the sink, uncontrollable moans slipping past your lips as Jay muffles them with his rough hand on your mouth.

"So needy," he growls into your ear, hot air brushing over your earlobe. He holds your head up, fingers slightly digging into your cheeks as he makes you look at the both of you in the bathroom's mirror. The sound of skin slapping echoes through the tiled walls, completely distracting you from all the noise behind the night club's door.

Sneaking out from your friends wasn't too hard as all of them were way too busy absorbing ridiculous amounts of alcohol in your club's booth. And since it's Jay who's paying for all of their cravings, they can't let this opportunity go to waste now, can they? Well, Jay's paying for everything tonight, to be fair. It's your birthday after all and the party he's been planning with your friends for over a month.

"You ruined everything!" He scolds you, moving his hand to grip your hair and taking a good look at your pathetically fucked out face. Your body jerks forward with each of his thrusts, pelvic bone digging into the granite edge of the fixture. "I hope you're happy with yourself. All this planning - all for nothing just because my dirty girl couldn't keep her hands to herself."

He's right. You've been teasing him for the entire night, waiting for the moment when he couldn't take it any longer. Starting from subtly grazing his calf with your heel, moving all the way to boldly groping his semi-hard cock when no one was looking. The gloating smile never left your lips even for a second, up until now.

So what if you're wearing the prettiest dress you own - Jay's favorite actually, if he couldn't focus on anything else than the fact that you're not wearing anything underneath. Out of all 365 days in a year, you've decided to tease him this much on your birthday night. Shame on you, really.

"I didn't ruin nothing," you manage to breathe out through small gasps of air, clutching the porcelain sink as if your life depends on it. "If anything, I only made it better."

Jay scoffs at you, hips smacking against yours even more rapidly now. You feel all the air getting knocked out of your lungs yet you still push your ass further into him, hoping to get even more fraction from his sharp moves.

"You're lucky it's your birthday or you'd be in a big trouble right now."

"Oh, yeah? And what would you do?" You ask, voice shaky as he relentlessly ruts his cock into you. "You always only talk big but then do nothing about it."

"Really? That's not what you said last week when you couldn't walk for two days straight," he hums as he nibbles at your jaw playfully. His hand goes down to smack your ass sharply and you let out a loud moan. "But don't you worry, baby. You're gonna regret your words tomorrow, I promise."

With a happy purr, you let your eyelids fall close as you feel your climax approaching. You're becoming breathless, a string of moans leave your mouth and rings through the room along with the lewd sound the both of your bodies are creating. Neither of you cares for the impatient knocking on the door, way too captivated by the filthy reflection in the mirror that has you nearly mesmerised.

You whine shrilly. "Fuck, Jay, I'm so close!"

Your head drops down the second he lets go of your hair, moving his hand to grip your hip and pull your ass even closer as he pounds you. He presses his forearm against your back, pushing you down until you're almost folded in half and your chest is squashed against the sink. The sound of Jay's quiet grunts only rile you up even more and not even a minute later you're reaching your high, slightly shaking as loud whimpers leave your lips.

"Fuck," Jay hisses, knowing he's not gonna last much longer with you clenching around him this hard. His fingers grip the bottom of your dress and he rolls the fabric up, stopping it at your waist. He snaps his cock into you quickly, waiting until the last moment before pulling out and letting his hot cum spill on your ass.

You breathe out heavily, raising your head only slightly to look at Jay's teasing smile in the mirror. He starts fixing himself up, zipping his pants up before he notices you reaching for the toilet paper. He swats your hands away gently, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you straight on your wobbly legs. Biting back a smile, he tugs your dress down without cleaning you up and turning you around to kiss your lips hungrily.

"Jay, it's dripping down my ass," you whine out a complaint, feeling his cum slowly trickling down your thigh.

With a nibble to your bottom lip, he smacks your bum again with a grin. "Good, keep it like that. I'll give you more once we're back home," he says and pulls you into another kiss.

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997

[sirensplayhouse]

It Is A Fact Challenge💫 •self concept challenge🦋•

the long awaited post has finally been made🥱

ok so the first thing y’all have probably noticed is this isn’t the standard challenge where it’s for a certain amount of days and that’s for a reason✋🏾the time frame in which you get results are up to you . you decide how long it takes you to get results . you decide how well this challenge works for you . you decide when you get results , because you hold all the power .

during this challenge you’re going to be focused on two things: vaunting and affirming

now since a lot of y’all wanted to know the specific vaunt I used to manifest my dream life who am I to deny y’all of it😌so boom here y’all go:

A sirens vaunt:

I am literally living my dream life. I mean it’s ridiculous how things can change at the blink of an eye. it’s to be expected though , since I am a master manifestor of course . I am in complete control of my reality . and there’s not a thing that could ever change that. when I walk in the room I command everyone’s attention . it’s amazing how my life changed overnight and now I’m living the life I’ve always imagined . but it’s to be expected since I am the goddess of all things in my life .

now you can either keep it like this or change it to fit you and your liking . you also can use other vaunts that other bloggers have made:

@rayjane //here

@cinnamonitgirl // boom

@remcycl333 // bam

@itsravenbitch // slap

and ofc check out the queen of vaunting herself the goddess Hera @sexydreamgirl / @sexyandhedonistic

now how often you vaunt is up to you , I listened to it before I went to sleep (including naps) and whenever I woke up. but it’s completely up to you if you want to vaunt during the day or even do mirror work 🤍

now onto the affirmations, just like the vaunt I’ll give you the single affirmation I used but it is not necessary to use it and yea😂

“ I always manifest instantly”

more sc affirmations because why not ?✨

“I am the goddess of all things in my life”

“everything always goes my way”

“it is a fact I always manifest instantly”

“I manifest at the speed of light”

“everything always works out in my favor”

“I always deserve good things”

“people are always trying to please me”

“everyone adores me”

now for more self concept knowledge y’all should definitely go check out the queen @cinefairy list of affirmations and her success stories about self concept are just *chefs kiss😚🤌🏾* and the other queen is none other than @sexyandhedonistic not only does she have a list of affirmations that’ll boost your sc sky high since y’all are so obsessed with time crunches and motivational posts (see what I did there 😂😭yea click the link🙂)

again how often you affirm is up to you, I affirmed throughout the day 80x every hour (specifically because 8 is my favorite number and I said go big or go home😂). but if you want to affirm randomly throughout the day, just once or however many times it’s completely ok and completely up to you .

now y’all are officially all set to start this challenge 🤝🏾I cannot stress this enough this challenge is about you and you alone . don’t let other bloggers or other peoples success dictate your results or beliefs . if you don’t agree with something move on and know that it holds absolute zero power unless you give it power. AND STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM TUMBLR AND ANY OTHER LOA COMMUNITY WHILE YOURE DOING THIS CHALLENGE😂

persistence + consistency + discipline is 🔑( wise words from @kaayxshay )

I look forward to seeing each and everyone of y’all’s success 🫶🏾now have fun and create your own rules ! drive out those limiting beliefs and manifest your dream life and live it to the fullest 🦋

some Neville to send y’all off with 🥰

“I AM is a feeling of permanent awareness. The very center of consciousness is the feeling of I AM. I may forget who I am, where I am, what I am but I cannot forget that I AM. The awareness of being remains, regardless of the degree of forgetfulness of who, where, and what I am.”

“man is actually the arbiter of his own fate, and that it is his concept of himself that determines the world in which he lives [and his concept of himself is his reactions to life].”

“There is only one I AM and you are that I AM. And while I AM is infinite, you, by your concept of yourself, are displaying only a limited aspect of the infinite I AM.”

“Just as the moth in his desire to know the flame was willing to destroy himself, so must you in becoming a new person be willing to die to your present self.”

“However, the only fate governing your life is the fate determined by your own concepts, your own assumptions; for an assumption, though false, if persisted in will harden into fact.”

“The ideal you seek and hope to attain will not manifest itself, will not be realized by you, until you have imagined that you are al ready that ideal.”

“All transformation is based upon suggestion, and this can work only where you lay yourself completely open to an influence. You must abandon yourself to your ideal as a woman abandons her self to love, for complete abandonment of self to it is the way to union with your ideal.”

[chaifootsteps]

For the anon who remarked on Viv’s drawing quality going downhill, she admitted in an interview recently that she doesn’t even animate anymore. She said she mainly directs.

That explains so much in terms of her drawing ability declining (as she’s not getting the practice that all artists need), how she’s able to wear such ridiculous, impractical stick-on nails and says a lot for her attitude (You’re right anon - does she truly love animation as a result?)

In becoming a director, she’s learned that she can do the least amount of physical work and rely wholly on others to realise her vision for her crazy OCs. And that results in her fandom, being blind, only seeing the furthering of her own name. When she says “I realised that I loved directing,” it feels like code for “I realised I loved watching others do what I wanted using their talents” (she also admits in the same interview that these artists are more skilled than she’ll ever be).

Folks should be looking up the names of every other creative working on HH and HB, because they’re the true artists. Not the one who throws down 2013 material and then slaps their name on the end.

See, even a comment seemingly as nice as "These artists are more skilled than she’ll ever be" reeks of insincerity. She used to sing the pilot cast's praises to the roof and back, saying she owed her success to them (true) and that they were like family to her and telling them she'd do everything in her power to keep them on, knowing all the while that she didn't mean a word of it.

[strangersteddierthings]

Prompt number 13 for the dialogue prompts pls?

Thanks for the prompt! #13 “I dare you to kiss me.”

-

It starts out, as most things recently do for Steve, with Dustin. He can't even remember what it was Dustin had even wanted him to do. Dustin had said 'I bet you won't do it' and Steve had replied 'you aren't old enough to gamble' and Dustin returned with 'then I dare you.'

And. Well.

He couldn't back down from a dare, could he?

It becomes a Thing. At first, it's just Dustin daring him to do small, easily achievable things (dare you to give me the bag of chips, dare you to pick me up from Hellfire, dare you to slap the top of the next door frame you walk through) but where Steve is, Robin isn't far behind. It doesn't take long for her to start in on it. (Dare you to take me to the diner for lunch, dare you to be on rewind duty today, dare you to have a sleepover with me at your place.)

It spreads beyond them eventually.

"I dare you to try and beat an actual state championship basketball player," Lucas says with a playful grin, ducking out of Steve's grasp even as Steve laughs out a, "I'll show you state championship!"

"I dare you to sit in on a Dungeons and Dragons session," Will says with a cheeky grin, flashing a wink at Dustin, who is fist pumping behind Steve's back because Steve says yes.

"I dare you to be less annoying," Mike says, swatting Steve's hands away from where he was ruffling Mike's hair, sat between Mike and Dustin at said session. Steve rolls his eyes but turns to bug Dustin instead.

It was a joy watching the Party teach El what dares were. Steve forgets, sometimes, that El is still new to most of the things he takes for granted everyday.

Nancy and Jonathan don't really join in on daring Steve to do things, but he's caught Jonathan daring the kids or Argyle to do silly things. Argyle, who had returned to California to finish school but returned to Hawkins almost as soon as the school year ended, loved to join in, though.

Eddie is the last one to join in the Dare Game. It doesn't take Steve long to realize it's because Eddie doesn't know if he's allowed to. Not in a I'm-not-sure-we're-friends way they'd already worked through, but in a I-thought-this-was-an-old-inside-joke way.

Steve assures him it's a recent development. A grab at being silly kids a little while longer now that the Upside Down can't come and ruin anymore childhoods.

"C'mon," Steve grins at him, "I dare you to touch your toes."

Eddie rolls his eyes in response but drops down into sitting cross-legged on the floor, one finger tip poking at the end of his socks. It's cheating but Steve will take a win where he can. Especially since Eddie says, "I dare you to sit down and relax for once in your fucking life."

It's so silly, this little game of I Dare You they've started but it's also wonderful to watch the kids be kids even though they're all onto 15 or 16 now, and only getting older.

The best part of the game is that it's playable anywhere. I dare you to beat my high score is heard often at the arcade. It's also hilarious to see what terrible movies end up at movie night because someone was dared to watch an awful one. The amount of times they've all had to watch Crimewave should be considered torture, honestly.

Steve's favorite part of the game, though, is when the kids dare Eddie to do things. No dare is too ridiculous, silly, or embarrassing for Eddie, it seems. No ones goal is to embarrass each other, Steve's sure, but he also knows that he wouldn't be willing to attempt a cartwheel in the middle of the parking lot in front of the grocery store. Especially since it turns out, Eddie can't do a cartwheel and just kind of flops onto the ground in a heap. Reflexively, Steve took a step forward to check on him but Eddie burst out in laughter quickly and when Eddie laughs it doesn't take long for everyone to join.

He's got an infectious laugh.

He watches Eddie fail at cartwheels, and succeed at climbing trees like a damn squirrel. Eddie's jumped out of swings and off of slides the few times they've gone to the park. Recited the monologue Romeo gives before he drinks the poison (from memory) before pretending to stab himself and fall backwards into Steve's pool (the dare had been to dramatically fall into the pool).

Watching Eddie makes him feel light in a way Steve doesn't think he's ever felt. He's always watching, even when Eddie catches him looking. Steve just meets his eye and gives him a fond smile. Eddie smiles back.

The summer goes on. The dares lessen, the novelty of the game never really fading, but certainly mellowing.

The pool dare, when Eddie'd monologued Shakespeare, had been Steve's favorite dare until the end of summer came.

Steve and Eddie had been dancing around each other, and Eddie, the braver of the two it seemed, puts and end to their misery. It's just Eddie and Steve laying in the grass of the Harrington's backyard, watching the stars come out.

It's as simple as Eddie rolling onto his side beside Steve, propping himself up on an elbow and whispering, "I dare you to kiss me."

And. Well.

He can't back down from a dare, can he?

[theladyofbloodshed]

Happy Halloween!

‘Nes, picture this. Gates open at dusk. Nobody leaves until dawn. There’s a whole section of rides. A zombie maze. And a haunted house with three floors.’

Nesta wrinkled up her nose and slapped the brochure that Cassian had thrust under her nose away. ‘Why would I want to picture it when you have jammed it so close to my face that it is the only thing I can see?’

‘So, is that a yes?’

Cassian waited for her answer, an excited smile dominating his expression. Nesta hated Halloween. Hated anything to do with it. Hated motion activated skeletons that gave a warble when she walked by, hated the lurid orange colour that plastered every aisle, and absolutely despised the smell of rotting pumpkins. He knew it.

‘Yes, you may go. I will stay here with the lights off so nobody rings my doorbell.’

Cassian let out a snore. ‘You’re no fun.’

Horror movies were fine. Nothing particularly scared her about them. The acting was generally terrible, the effects even worse, and all of them put women through hell while they wore few clothes. It was the ridiculous hype weeks before that she hated. There was absolutely no need for it.  

‘Go and play with Rhys or Azriel,’ she said, reaching around him for her book.

‘They are already coming. I have to buy the tickets and I’m going to look like an idiot if you don’t come along.’

Nesta snorted. ‘I have bad news, Cassian. You look like an idiot regardless of my presence.’

Cassian clutched his chest. ‘Ouch. Somebody hasn’t had their nap today.’

Maybe her words had been a little bit too harsh. For a few weeks now, she had been debating their relationship and the merits of continuing it. They had more bad days than good. Arguments were their common currency. The relationship was becoming stagnant. He made it difficult to visualise a future when he still had the mental age of a teenage boy and lived in Rhysand's basement. But Cassian was also kind and funny, willing to cut the heart from his chest for his family. It wasn’t fair to keep hurting his feelings when her mind swung one way. She knew they were close to breaking point, he did too.

‘Fine. Book the tickets.’

A kiss was pressed to her cheek. ‘You are the best.’

***

Halloween dawned on them. Nesta had begrudgingly agreed to wear a costume for their night time festivities. She’d have sworn that Cassian preferred Halloween over Christmas as he’d barely been able to contain his excitement in the run up to the holiday. Nesta had lost count of the amount of times she’d returned home from work to a prank that had her clenching her jaw shut or threatening to take back the key she had offered to him for her home.

‘It’s called trick or treat, Nes. You can’t just eat candy without the trick side.’

‘I pay for the candy, so I can do what I want,’ she snapped. ‘Save your pranks for April Fool’s Day. It’s named after you.’

Cassian gave a slight grimace then hurried towards the bedroom. It had been a long day at work and now she was expected to stay up all night at a ridiculous spooktacular, as they called it, which meant she’d be grumpy all weekend from a lack of sleep.

When Cassian returned, he was whistling a tune and carrying a red bucket filled with water that he tipped down the sink.

‘Was that meant to fall on my head?’

‘I’m pleading the fifth,’ he replied.

Nesta let out a low laugh. ‘Oh, I could have really decorated the place in the spirit of things if that had happened to me.’

‘If I ever turn up dead one day, you have made so many threats that you will be the prime suspect.’

They got ready at her place. She opted for Morticia Addams because it meant she only needed to purchase a crappy wig and wear a dress she rarely wore, rather than buy a plastic costume that was a fire hazard. His phone was buzzing constantly. She risked a glimpse at the screen and it was plastered with messages from Feyre, Mor, Rhys, and Azriel telling them to hurry up because they needed to go. Cassian was still in the bathroom. She’d heard him grunting and swearing in between his razor buzzing. He’d stayed quiet on his costume, telling her it would be a big secret.

When he finally did emerge, Nesta burst out laughing.

‘What the hell are you supposed to be?’

‘It’s bad, isn’t it?’

His face was bright red and caked in face paint. It was all over his hands and neck too. Cassian had even shaved off most of the scruff on his face, but left a soul patch in its stead.

‘You look like a fucking tomato!’

Trying to hold onto his dignity, Cassian added a pair of plastic red horns to his head and picked up a pitchfork.

‘I’m the devil,’ he said in a tone that sounded as if he’d like the earth to split under his feet so hell could call him home. ‘I saw a tutorial, but it seems I lack the skills with face paint and liquid latex to do it justice.’

Nesta couldn’t muster a reply. He looked hilarious. It was only when she scanned his body that she took in the tight-fitting, red Lycra outfit which wouldn’t be out of place in an eighties fitness video - and the knee high black boots over it.

‘Are you the devil from The Powerpuff Girls or what?’

He let out a long groan as his phone continued to buzz with notifications.

‘Go and wash it off. Please. I am begging you.’

‘I tried! It has stained my skin bright red so I look like I’m having an allergic reaction. It’s better if it stays on.’

‘Really?’ Nesta threw up her hands. ‘We will be late. It’s dark. Nobody will notice how bad it looks.’

They hurried down the road where the rest of their group was waiting for them by Rhys’ car. Azriel, the designated driver because he never needed sleep, honked the horn in greeting. Rhys and Feyre had matched their outfits as Harley Quinn and the Joker. Mor had dressed as some sort of sexy red riding hood in a gingham dress that skimmed her thighs matched with knee high socks and a red hood.  

Feyre let out a horrified shriek of laughter. ‘What the fuck are you, Cass?’

He turned to Nesta, eyes pleading. ‘You said they wouldn’t notice in the dark.’

‘You are glowing red,’ remarked Rhys. ‘Even the man in the moon can see you.’

In a bad mood, Cassian clambered into the back of the car. It lowered beneath his weight. Nesta had to press her lips together to stop her laughter from making the situation worse. She wasn’t able to make eye contact with Feyre or that would set her off.

‘I’ll try and talk to him,’ said Mor as they began to file into the car.

It left Nesta riding shotgun with Azriel. She scanned him for some sort of clue to his costume, but in the end, she needed to ask.

‘An axe murderer,’ he replied, pulling a plastic axe from his coat. ‘They look like everybody else.’

‘Good choice.’

The key turned in the ignition and he grumbled, ‘I hate Halloween.’

***

If one more dumbass jumped out at Nesta in the queue, she would punch them. She didn’t care if it was their job to scare guests. Anybody who got paid to shout boo needed a better job.

‘Is it too late to turn back?’

Azriel drawled out a laugh. ‘I don’t think Cass will ever forgive us if we leave.’

Her overgrown boyfriend was alight with anticipation. He didn’t need to crane his neck to look towards the start of the queue as he was gigantic, but he still lamented that they’re arrived too late. There were so many better costumes he could have gone for. The iron giant. Frankenstein’s monster. Mothman. Not a tomato with an outfit so tight that everybody could see his dick print.

 A bored, middle-aged woman sat at the ticket booth. She scanned their tickets with as much zeal as one of the undead then they were in the grounds of the Spooktacular. What a stupid name.

As if preparing for battle, Cassian drew them into a circle and held the map of park out in the centre. A finger pointed to where they currently were. ‘Everybody is flocking in here. The rides will be busy now, and most of the night, so it doesn’t matter when we go on them. There will be time, before you ask, Morrigan. The haunted house is only accessible via the maze. It’s meant to be shit-your-pants scary, but only for those brave enough to make it through the zombie maze.’

‘Cass, you know it’s not real, right?’

He held up a hand in Rhys’ face, ignoring his question. ‘We need to get to the other side of the park, tackle the maze, do the haunted house while it’s not too busy to get the full experience. There’s a cinema showing old black and white films we can check out, food stands over on this part. I think there’s a costume competition.’

‘You’ll be entering that,’ said Azriel, a smirk on his lips.

‘He’ll scare everybody with that thing,’ said Rhys, pointing to Cassian’s crotch.

Cassian shushed them. ‘Don’t interrupt. I’ll lose my train of thought. I’ve lost it. Fireworks mark the end of the celebrations. If we make it to dawn then we get a survivor’s medal.’

‘You mean we won’t get locked in? I can leave whenever I want?’ Nesta pressed her hands together in prayer.

‘We’re staying until the end.’

‘Yeah, Nesta. Don’t you want a crappy plastic medal at the end?’ Feyre teased.

Nesta was not a night person. She had never been a night person. She could wake up at five in the morning as fresh as a daisy to begin her day – but ask her to stay awake until that time? Not a chance. If she stayed with Cassian, this would be her life every Halloween.

‘Let’s go team,’ he called and led the way towards the monstrously large maze.

She lurked at the back with Azriel. Nesta gave him a soft elbow in the side. ‘Let’s go team.’

‘Don’t,’ he replied, warning in his voice.

‘I feel like we’re in an episode of Scooby-Doo.’

Azriel gave a chuckle. ‘If he says let’s split up gang, I’m going with you. We’ll go and find a beer.’

The maze was ridiculously high. And enormous. Even Cassian was not tall enough to peer over the hedges to find the way. It would take them forever to bumble their way through to the promised haunted house. There likely wasn’t even a haunted house on the other side. Hopefully it was the car park and they could go home.

A smoke machine was working its hardest to pump the hedges with mist. Spooky, she thought with disdain. The way was lit with jack-o-lanterns. Through the hedges, Nesta could make out the low groaning of zombies and the terrified shrieks of patrons as they tried to find their way along the twisting paths.

‘Cass, you should just lift me onto your shoulders,’ called Mor.

Ugh. Yes, I’m sure you’d love to have your bare thighs around his face again, Nesta thought.  

It was a few times, long ago, apparently. They were friends. It hadn’t meant anything. But they still took trips together alone and her name was still in his phone with a few heart emojis that she had apparently put there and they flirted relentlessly still. Everything was just perfect.

A zombie burst out from one of the turns they could take. His arms were outstretched, flaking fake blood on his chin. Rhys shrieked.

‘Fuck,’ he breathed.

‘Sorry man,’ the zombie replied, breaking character with his laughter, then went back down the passage he’d been lurking.

At least five times, they hit a dead end. Cassian was adamant he could find the way through without any help. They had met no end of zombies too. It was freezing cold, fake smoke was irritating her lungs, and they were nowhere closer to the damn haunted house waiting on the other side. This was on its way to being one of the worst nights of her entire life.

Their group was beginning to stretch out. Mor, after shrieking like a banshee for the eighth time, had locked onto Cassian at the front for safety. There was a gap at the front. Azriel was talking to Rhys about work as if this was a normal activity for them to engage in, while Feyre had her hand in Rhys’ as she ate a candied apple. Nesta trailed at the back, forgotten, eating candy.

It could not be more obvious to Nesta that she was not part of this group. It was an uncomfortable truth. She kept throwing it back, but like the tide, it came back to her again and again. Whilst she did not expect to be on the same page as her significant other for everything, fundamentally, Nesta and Cassian were too different for the long term. Each step through the mist felt like it was pulling a veil away rather than hiding it; they were not meant to be. In the pit of her stomach, Nesta knew when they left the spooktacular scarefest, she’d need to have that conversation with him and end it for good.

Screams sounded followed by the thump of shoes.

Nesta threw herself backwards into a hedge as a hoard of screaming teenagers came galloping down the narrow space of a crossroads. Behind them was a swarm of zombies who were thoroughly enjoying their job.

When the dust settled, Nesta froze.

‘Oh no.’

Her group had been swept up with the screaming and running. She had lost them.

After waiting a while in the hope that they might come back for her, it seemed obvious that they hadn’t even realised she was missing. She tried not to be hurt by it, but tears still prickled her eyes.

There was no cell signal in this damn place. There was also no turning back. She was too deep into the maze to retrace her fumbling steps and find the way. She had to follow the sounds of screams to try and catch up to the massive group. Perhaps it was the workers’ way of clearing out the maze before it became too congested. Nesta would find her way through and meet them by the haunted house.

At a fork, Nesta paused. It was only her and pumpkins. Neither way offered any insight to the group’s whereabouts. There were still screams, but they came in every direction, as far as the amusement park. There was a chocolate coin in her bag of candy. The foil featured a skull on one side, crossbones on the other.

‘Heads I go left.’

Nesta flipped the coin.

‘Right it is.’

It was eerie to be alone. Nesta shivered against the cold. It was surely close to midnight by now. She risked a glance upwards – a full moon. Why was that panicking her? None of this was real. A full moon meant nothing. None of this was real.  

A zombie stepped into her path. Her face was painted grey with blood splattered all over it. Before she could even begin groaning, Nesta held up a finger. ‘Don’t even think about it.’

‘Oh, come on.’

In her marching, she encountered two more zombies. One of them, she threatened to punch and was told she’d receive assault charges if she did.

‘You can address the charges to the Addams Family residence.’

This was turning into an actual nightmare. She was cold and tired and wanted to go home. Why didn’t she take up Elain’s offer of a cosy night in watching chick flicks?

Logic would guide her through this. She just needed to remember which way she had originally been facing, figure out which direction she was turning through and she would find her way. It was easy. Easy peasy.

‘You’re going in circles,’ one of the zombies said. ‘I’ve seen you three times now.’

‘You are joking.’

Sure enough, at his feet was a knobbly pumpkin that was particularly grotesque. She had seen it before.

With a noise that could earn her employment with the other zombies, Nesta pressed herself into the hedge. ‘I am going to be in this maze for the rest of my life.’

Something came over her. Perhaps it was the full moon. Perhaps it was being in a relationship with an overgrown child who had abandoned her in the damn maze that she didn’t want to be in to begin with. Nesta started ripping off leaves and throwing them at the ground as if it might solve anything. She even kicked the hedge then immediately regretted it when a scratch raised up on her ankle.

‘What did that hedge ever do to you, Morticia?’

A deep, smooth voice jerked her attention away from battering the hedge.

The man had gone all out on his costume. He wore a fine blue suit with a golden patterned brocade and a billowing white shirt. A few drops of blood stained it crimson. It didn’t look cheap at all. His red hair was drawn back against the nape of his neck. He tilted his head which revealed the sharp points of his incisors. No fake plastic fangs.

‘It trapped me inside,’ she answered. ‘Dracula?’

‘Lestat. Close enough.’  

‘Have you lost your friends too?’

‘No, I come to Halloween events alone,’ he replied, the sarcastic tone impossible to miss.

Nesta’s brow bunched. ‘I wonder if I can make one of these branches into a stake to ram through your chest.’

It made him laugh. It was a rich thing that sent goosebumps skittering along her skin.  

‘Walk together?’

Nesta should have shut down the offer immediately. Wandering around with strange men dressed as vampires at night wouldn’t lead to anything good – but as it was, she was lost in this fucking maze and it was better to have company even if he did end up draining her blood.

They debated each fork, chose each path carefully as if it was a puzzle that they might be able to crack rather than a random route a mad farmer had decided. The man, Eris, shucked off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

At a dead end sat the Grim Reaper. A black hood was pulled down over their face and a scythe was held in one hand.

‘You have come to the end of your journey, weary soul. You must answer the riddle that was foretold.’

Eris scoffed. ‘That’s a terrible rhyme. It barely even rhymes.’

‘Yeah, well, you try saying it for eight hours a night,’ the Grim Reaper retorted. ‘Are you done? Can I carry on?’

The utter shock of being spoken back to was plastered onto Eris’ expression. It clearly did not happen often. Nesta held back her laughter; Eris had been good at getting them through the maze plus he’d let her wear his expensive jacket.

‘I protect. I stand tall. My purpose is to strike fear in all. What am I?’

‘The cops,’ Nesta offered.

Eris buried his laugh with a cough. ‘I think the answer is a scarecrow.’

The Grim Reaper stood. ‘Curses, you have solved my riddle,’ he said, voice unimaginably bored. The gate behind him creaked open. ‘You have found your freedom… for now.’

A pale hand gestured for Nesta to lead the way out of the maze and she had never been so glad to leave a place before.

‘That is a man who hates his job,’ said Eris, lips close to her ear.

The haunted house loomed in front of them. More squeals and shrieks echoed from within. It was not as big as Cassian had made it out to be, but it certainly looked haunted. Spiderwebs hung from the awning so that they dripped all the way to the steps. The wrought-iron fence was rusted and crooked, running the length of the property, save for the squeaking gate. On a hidden speaker, a child’s eerie laughter sounded on a loop along with come play with me.

‘If they have hired child actors for this bit, I won’t hesitate to hit them,’ Nesta said.

‘Stick close, fair maiden, and we will find our way through.’

Nesta pouted. She searched for a worker but there were no signs of any. This was why costumes were an utterly ridiculous idea. ‘I should wait here to see if my friends appear.’

‘Some friends, abandoning you.’

‘Yours did,’ she pointed out.

Eris held up his hands. ‘Mine are brothers. Every year we try and lose at least one of us.’

‘Well, one of mine is a sister and another is a soon to be ex-boyfriend.’

Her breath fogged in the air from the cold. There didn’t seem to be any sign of them coming through the gate. By the time they did emerge, Nesta would have turned into an icicle.  

‘You go. Don’t waste your time with me.’

‘I will never abandon you. Especially not on Halloween when there’s a full moon in the sky.’

Nesta raised her brows. ‘Oh yeah? What might get me?’

Another group had made it out of the maze and were making a racket as they hurried towards the house’s gate. Eris pointed at them. His amber eyes tracked over their costumes. ‘There could be killer clowns or… hot dogs on the loose.’

Indeed, one was dressed in an inflatable hot dog costume.

‘Do you think they’re like werewolves? The full moon turns her into a hot dog?’

‘I’m more likely to do damage than she is,’ Nesta grumbled. ‘I am so hungry and so tired. You know what, I have another idea.’

Nesta pulled open the purple gate that they had come through, much to the Grim Reaper’s shock.

‘Do we have to do the haunted house? Isn’t there another route back to the main part?’

‘There are three routes out of the maze. Two of them lead back to the park. You, lucky devils, found the only path to the Horrifying Haunted Mansion. You must go through it.’

‘I believe that goes against safety regulations,’ said Eris.

‘Minimum wage. Zero hour contract. Talk to my boss.’

 ***

‘Two more rooms to go through.’

That was two rooms too many, Nesta thought. She had lost count of the amount of times she had screamed. Most of the Spooktacular had been hit-acular instead. Not this haunted house. It was not for the faint hearted. She had expected plastic masks hanging from strings or glow in the dark skeletons that swung into her from fraying ropes.

This was horrid.

After the first monster had come sprinting across the room at them under a deluge of strobe lights, Nesta had clung onto Eris like a koala. There was not point in feigning bravery when everything in this house seemed hellbent on giving her a heart attack; the actors hired for this part were deranged.  Nesta had gone from keeping close to Eris, to walking behind him, fingers digging into his billowing shirt, to burying her face practically in his armpit and relying on him to guide her through.

She wished Cassian was here.

Not for comfort, but so he could be traumatised by this fucking place instead.

Eris blew out a breath. ‘There’s blood seeping out from under the door. I’ll carry you.’

Was this guy for real?

If he dropped her, Nesta would kill him though.

Carefully, Nesta was lifted by Eris, so she tucked her face into the crook of his neck.

‘What’s in the room?’

‘Do you really want me to describe it?’

Yes. No. She wasn’t sure.

After peeping open one eye, she wished she hadn’t. People were manacled from the ceiling, heads lolling uncomfortably. Raw meat hung from hooks. As Eris had described, fake blood soaked the floor. She was fairly certain it was fake blood. It better have been fake blood. Jars filled with severed limbs, eyeballs, and organs lined the wall. It looked like something out of Saw.

‘The raw meat is bad enough but if they’ve used animal blood, it’s a health violation. I’ll have them shut down,’ Eris muttered.

Nesta screwed her eyes shut.

‘Whoever made this place was an absolute freak. And not in a good way.’

Eris’ laugh made a rumble deep in his chest. ‘What’s the good way?’

‘The kinky sexy way,’ she said, before she could stop herself.

‘Ah, like handcuffs instead of manacles?’

‘No comment.’

Although Nesta had known the man for only an hour, she already could tell that he’d be grinning at her comment. And something about that had her pressing a smile against his skin in return.

‘What would be your absolute nightmare? In the final room, what do you not want to see?’

‘Oh my god. Is this going to be a strange set up meant only for me? I hope it’s not a million dollars. I’m afraid of becoming a millionaire.’

Was it bad that her first thought went to Cassian down on one knee proposing to her with all of his friends there to witness it? That would be a nightmare. He'd trap her so she couldn't say no. She cared about him. Loved him. But she wasn’t in love with him. Wasn’t sure if she ever had been. Lust had made her get carried away and before she knew it, there was pressure from all sides to make it something more. Never again would she tangle herself with a man that her sisters already knew. It made everything more complex.

She was set down on the creaking floorboards. ‘Do I want to open my eyes?’

‘Probably not,’ he supplied.

They were faced with a narrow corridor. At the end of it was the backdoor. Freedom beckoned.

‘We’ll run for it.’

There were circular holes cut into the wall that Nesta had a sinking feeling meant hands were going to try and grab it.

‘If you grope me,’ she called, ‘I will be contacting my lawyer.’

‘Ready to run?’

‘Hold my hand,’ she begged, clinging onto Eris. If her heart wasn’t hammering so hard, she might have felt pathetic. As it was, her friends had ditched her in a zombie maze and this vampire had swooped in to save her.

With her hand locked firmly into Eris’, they sprinted towards the backdoor. Sure enough, black-gloved hands shot out as they ran, grabbing onto clothing and limbs. When they burst through the door, they tangled in sticky cobwebs that had her shrieking.

‘You survived!’

Another Grim Reaper stood before them using their scythe to point in the direction they were to go.

Nesta threw her arms around Eris, feeling the hard muscle of his body. She was reluctant to ever let him go. He seemed to be of the same attitude, because he’d set off down the dimly lit path with one arm hooking her to him.

A feeling of disappointment settled on her tongue. If Nesta had entered that house with her group, Cassian would have gravitated to Mor and supported her through it. She’d have been at the back still, squealing and panicking unless Azriel took pity on her.

Thank goodness for Eris.

‘I wouldn’t have survived that without you.’

‘Nonsense,’ he said. ‘If we’d have turned the lights on, it would have been crappy fake blood and local thespians getting too into it. The darkness makes everything a bit scarier. You did great.’

‘Eris, I’d have sat on the floor and refused to move. How were you so calm?’

Eris tipped back his head in low, false laughter. ‘Oh, compared to my father, that house was a leisurely jaunt. I am starving. I couldn’t work out if it was your stomach grumbling or a prisoner of the house. What about a late dinner?’

***

‘There has to be something. Something in the past that made you hate Halloween.’

Nesta tugged a slice of pizza from the rest, marvelling at the stringy cheese drooping from it. ‘It wasn’t even Halloween. Goosebumps.’

‘The books? I mean when you’re ten, they’re truly scary,’ Eris teased.

She chewed down a mouthful of pizza. They’d found the cluster of food stalls with tired workers who looked as if they were counting down the hours until dawn so they could go home. A large seating area was in the middle of the stands so they’d set up camp there, Nesta still in Eris’ jacket. There was a cage with a few bats in that Eris commented was a food standard violation to have them so close to people dining.

‘No, the show. There was one episode. It freaked me out.’

‘The sponge under the sink?’

‘Seriously? No.’

‘Oh! Night of the Living Dummy – with Slappy? My brother hated that. We actually bought a Slappy and put it in his bed. He cried for hours.’

‘The one at Horrorland with those green things. Then it turns out they’re on a monster game show. But the start of the episode really did a number on me.’

Eris put his arm across her back and stroked up and down. ‘You poor thing. I hated Are You Afraid of The Dark with that monster in the swimming pool. I made my little brother sleep in my bed. Told my mother he was the one afraid, not me.’

They ate the rest of their shared pizza in a hush that wasn’t unpleasant. They’d both opted for coffee to keep them awake – and keep them warm. His knee was pressed to her thigh. A hand rested on top of his leg and Nesta had the mad urge to hold onto it like she had in the haunted house. Something held her back – a loyalty to Cassian that he had never deserved.

Positioned near the heaviest traffic of the park, Nesta was scanning the crowds for signs of her group. Many people had left. Only a few idiots would remain until the dawn – her group included.

‘You can go,’ Nesta insisted. ‘Won’t your brothers drive off if you’re not with them?’

Eris rummaged into the pocket of the jacket she was wearing – because he’d refused its return – and pulled out a set of car keys. ‘We all drove separately. We don’t like each other enough to car pool.’

That was a wise idea. Nesta wished she’d have taken her own transport so she could have turned around at the gates and gone home. She supposed she’d not have met Eris if she had done that. Some things were worth enduring.

‘This soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend. Is it because he left you in the maze?’

Generally, Nesta was not a person who liked to share her business with other people. It felt a lot like airing dirty laundry. She did not care for gossip – her own or otherwise. But she had few friends. The two she did have thought Cassian was wonderful because Nesta had never been able to be honest about the problems in the relationship and cast him in a bad light.

It felt different to be dressed as Morticia Addams, sharing a pizza with Lestat de Lioncourt. Eris was a stranger who she’d never see again. What did it matter if she spilt her heart to him?

‘That was the final nail in the coffin. I didn’t want to come here, but he doesn’t really take no as an option. If I didn’t come tonight, I wouldn’t hear the end of it. I’m boring. I’m no fun. None of his friend’s girlfriends kick up such a fuss. He also slept with his friend and she’s still around all the time. I can’t voice that it makes me uncomfortable because then I’m being jealous and controlling.’ She took a sip of the too-hot coffee to act as a distraction. ‘We’re not compatible. I keep trying to resurrect a dying relationship – but why? I’m not even happy with him. I’m not myself with him.’ Nesta gave a yowl of frustration. ‘I change myself for him all the time – I hate dressing up.’

Nesta focused on the blurring lights of one of the stalls to distract herself.

Carefully, Eris’ hand landed on the back of her head to slip her wig off. His fingers twined in her scrunchie at the nap of her neck to pull that loose so her hair fell freely then he handed her a napkin to wipe away the crimson lipstick staining her.

‘Thank you.’

Eris gave a tight smile in response. ‘I think you’re wonderful as you are. Kicking hedges, threatening to stake me through the heart, or taking the slices with the most cheese on.’

‘You caught that?’

‘Next time, I get the cheesiest slices. Let me drive you home.’

There could be nothing more foolish than accepting a ride from a stranger, but it was tempting. He’d proved himself to be polite and charming, never putting his hands on her more than he needed to – and sometimes Nesta had wished they did linger on her.

‘I ought to stay. Get my survivor’s medal.’

Eris cocked his head to one side. ‘Why?’

Because Cassian would be annoyed with her if she didn’t stay. They’d talk about it for weeks afterwards, how Nesta was the only one who didn’t follow through with the plan or how she ruined the evening by getting lost in the maze. Everything could be spiralled back to being her fault somehow. She didn’t want the crappy medal. The only good moment of the night had been meeting Eris.

‘I have heated seats.’

‘Sold,’ Nesta said, rising to her feet.

Eris offered her an arm to take, ever the gentleman. As the night grew colder by the moment, his warmth was welcomed. They weaved through goblins and ghouls, witches and werewolves, as they crossed the funfair. Nesta still kept a look out for Cassian or Feyre but couldn’t see them.

‘You don’t want to go on the big wheel? The ghost train?’

‘I have had enough of Halloween. I want to go home, go to bed, and tomorrow I’m staying on the couch eating candy all day.’

Eris made a low groan that was almost erotic. ‘I am envious of your life.’

‘What is your plan?’

‘Try not to get too excited but I am a health and safety executive.’

‘Ooh, safety standards and worker rights. Tell me more.’

He gave her a soft nudge in the ribs. ‘I studied law because I like arguing. It turns out I like ruining fun too. I’m coming back here tomorrow when it’s light to shut down half the park. The maze was too narrow, it breeched safety standards. If there had been an evacuation, it fell short of requirements. And as for the murder house, well, that will be feeling the full wrath of health and safety laws.’

Nesta tipped her head back and made a moan to rival Eris’ one. ‘Oh, I love it when you talk OSHA.’

‘It’s not the most exciting job, I’ll admit. It pays well. There is travel involved. I’m high up the ladder already.’

‘Did you actually come here with brothers?’

‘Nesta,’ he sighed, amber eyes snagging on her. ‘Do you think my hobby is walking around dressed as a vampire picking up abandoned women in mazes?’

‘We all have our hobbies, Eris.’

‘My brothers and I always check one out as civilians. They’re into it. It gives me a chance to see the on-the-ground running before I swoop in and they have time to hide their atrocities’

The car park was far emptier than it had been when they’d pulled up that evening. At her request, they’d gone to check if Rhysand’s car was still there. Her heart sank at the empty space. They had gone. At some point, the group had just left, left without her.

Eris must have read something in her face because he stopped walking and pulled her into a tight embrace. She burrowed against his chest, so fed up of being an afterthought.

‘I know what it will be. It will be my fault because I got lost. Not theirs for running off. I will have ruined their whole evening.’ Her voice came out muffled against his shirt.

His arms encased her. She fit naturally to his body as two pieces of a puzzle. Lips pressed to her forehead. ‘You deserve far better than this. You’re wasted on people like that.’

For a while, they remained cuddling in the car park, neither one quite ready to stop it. It was only when a man dressed as Jack Skellington wolf-whistled at them did they reluctantly peel apart. Eris brushed away her gratitude for the comfort, but he kept his arm around her as they walked.

When they reached his car, it was worth more than she had in her bank account. He held the door open for her, those manners gleaming. ‘My lady.’

‘If you call me that again, I may let you drink my blood.’

He pushed away her hair so his fingers could trail the vein of her neck. It was tantalisingly slow then he drew back and closed the car door, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

Nesta had to stop herself from squealing and kicking her legs as he walked around to the driver’s side. If she met a man like Eris each time she was abandoned in a maze, she’d go to Spooktaculars more often.

On the drive home, her phone finally started to ping with messages as she received signal. They gradually became more frantic then angry as if she was deliberately avoiding them. Rather than message Cassian, who would undoubtedly blow up her phone if he found out she was riding home with a stranger, she messaged Feyre. It was a simple thing.

You left me behind in the maze. No signal. Thanks for waiting. Found my own way home.

‘I should probably say it now before we get to my door. I don’t sleep with men on the first date so don’t try and come into my house.’

Eris gestured to himself as he drove. ‘I need an invitation to enter a home.’

True to his word, at the door, Eris did not try to convince her to let him in. The house was dark which meant Cassian wasn’t up waiting for her.

‘Thank you for looking after me.’

He swept into a bow. ‘It was my honour. Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight,’ she replied.

Coldness slipped over her body – and not from the weather. Eris smiled and gave a wave as he walked down the garden path. He waited by his car for her to unlock the house, to see her safely inside, but Nesta felt was numb. Eris had done what she had asked. He hadn’t pushed his luck or tried for a kiss or more. He’d been a shining example of a gentleman all night. So why was she annoyed he hadn’t tried to get her into bed?

***

The soft vibrations of her phone dragged her out of sleep at eleven.

‘I’ve been so stressed,’ Cassian said as a greeting.

Not worried enough to search the park for her, not worried enough to wait at the gates, not worried enough to come to her house.

‘I had to stay at Mor’s. You had the key. I’m still bright red.’

‘Don’t call me for the rest of the day,’ replied Nesta and she hung up the phone.

It had never felt so good. She wished she still had a flip phone so she could slam the two halves together; it gleaned more satisfaction that way. A couple more times, Cassian tried to call then Mor’s phone number flashed up on her screen – a crappy attempt to get into contact.

Nesta ignored it.

She was tired and in a rotten mood as she knew she would be the morning after a crap Halloween Spooktacular. Although, it hadn’t all been bad.  

After shuffling to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, Nesta spotted the note pushed through the post box that was sat on the door mat. It was a sloping, elegant script that was almost too small for her to read easily.

Trick or treat. Check behind the plant pot.

Reluctantly, Nesta opened the front door a few inches in her pyjamas, half-expecting an egg to be thrown at her. Behind the large, ceramic plant pot on the stoop was a paper bag filled with candy and chocolate. There was an envelope tucked inside. Her name was on the front in the same looping handwriting.

Nesta,

I realised in my excitement to share OSHA guidelines with you that I never asked you what you did for a living. That must be rectified. I understand that you are in the midst of emotional upheaval and I completely understand if you are not ready to date – presuming the soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend has been bestowed his new title.

Please call me. I promise I won’t force you through any mazes or haunted houses. Enjoy your day – here’s more candy to get you through.

Yours eternally,

Eris.

At the bottom of his letter was his number so Nesta needed to restrain herself from calling him then and there with bird nest hair and pyjamas.

No, the Spooktacular had not been all bad.

[fleur-bbyy]

stupid girl /// katsuki bakugo

warnings: bakugo is a lil meanie, he gets softer. lots of f bombs, fem! reader, characters are 18+.

wc: 2.2k

listened to this on youtube while writing, kind of goes with the story i think???

don’t bite your lip or grit your teeth, just count to ten and try to breathe, you stupid bitch can’t you see, the perfect one for you is me?

bakugo couldn’t stand you.

that was an understatement, he fucking hated you. steam practically shooting from his ears like a cartoon character every time you were around. yet, he couldn’t get your stupid face out of his head.

he hated how much you were willing to give up for your friend’s happiness. hated the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled. hated that stupid fucking twinkle in your eye that even stayed sparkling when you guys argued. hated how driven you were during training, even when you knew you’d lose to him.

most of all, he hated your stupid perfect face. your stupid hair. your stupid lips. your stupid stupid stupid body.

yeah. he fucking hated you.

that’s why he was marching up the stairs to his dorm, making sure he was heard loud and clear. especially making sure you heard.

“you totally like her, dude.” kiri said, slapping the back of bakugo’s shoulder. he could of killed his friend red-headed friend. especially for saying something so ridiculous as that in the common area where other people could hear.

“fuck you just say?” bakugo turned to look at kirishima, looking like he was ready to commit murder. his brows that seemingly were always perpetually furrowed somehow pulled deeper into his face. his eyes so sharp he could probably barely see through the squint.

“woah no need to get hostile, man. i’m just saying. you never quit yappin’ about her, even if it is about how much you hate her. plus, you’ve been in a mood ever since she beat you during training today.” kiri slowly removed his rough hand from his best friend’s shoulder, scared it was finally his time to face the fury that is bakugo’s wrath.

“of course i’m fuckin’ pissed. she’s no better than deku and she beat me!” he was seething. how dare the guy that’s supposed to be his best friend suggest such a foul, horrid thing. you? of all people? that stupid girl? that stupid, beautiful girl? “you don’t know shit about fuck. say something like that again and i’ll snap your neck.” and with that, bakugo stood up from the common area couch and began to stomp to his room. not before kiri could get one last sentence in,

“yeah, okay man. come talk when you’re ready to show some manliness and actually talk about your feelings.” katsuki didn’t acknowledge him, only stomping away harder. making sure to slam the doors he came in contact with during the short trip to his room. kirishima’s words felt like a hard punch to the gut. maybe it was because he hated you. hated the idea that people think he likes you.

maybe it was because he knew kiri was true. maybe it was that he knew he wasn’t hiding it well, either.

that’s how he ended up in his dorm room doing practically anything to calm his racing, lovesick mind. blasting music, occasionally playing his drum set along with the song, but most of the time he boxed the punching bag in his room. trying to kill the energy his anger built up in him. stupid incessant anger and stupid fucking girl.

he screamed at the punching bag like it was a living, breathing person. like he could hurt it’s feelings. he didn’t know exactly who he was imagining it as, just as someone to scream at. he wanted it to be you, but he couldn’t stand the thought of making you cry, even in his imagination. he already felt guilt for the amount of times you’ve cried over him in the real world, though he’d never admit it out loud. how could he did that to you in the dream world too?

and that’s how you ended up practically in tears in your neighboring dorm. you just wanted to finish this dumb math assignment from class. “why do we even need this? we’re becoming pro-heroes for gods sake, not damn mathematicians?” you thought. you grabbed your pencil and tried to solve another problem, but the muffled voice of eyedress singing jealous and your neighbor’s unrelenting yelling making your brain short-circuit faster than denki using his lightening.

sighing, you threw your pencil somewhere into the abyss that is your desk and picked up your phone, putting your headphones on to try and drown out some noise and texted your pink-haired friend.

is bakugo always this loud?

girly if you’re just now figuring this out, i’m worried for you

i’m serious mina. i cant even hear myself think and if i don’t finish this math, aizawa will have my ass.

calm down, you’ll finish it. try going over there and knocking. maybe he’ll tone it down?

mina be so astronomically fr right now

me?

go to the guy that makes it very known that he can’t stand me’s room?

bffr

yea yea he acts like he hates you, promise he doesn’t. just go over there and if something pops off, call me and your personal chihuahua will come over and get him. he’s probably just mad you beat him today

okay i’ll trust you this time but if i die you’re not getting anything from my will

then don’t die! :)

you left her on read, slipped your house shoes on your feet, and removed your headphones. carefully placing them onto your desk. you were trying your best to mentally prepare yourself the go over to the blonde’s room. in your three years at ua, you’d never been so scared of your neighbor. the last two years in was always kiri and shoji that neighbored you. something happened with the lists this year that had you and kirishima switching dorm rooms, placing you next to thee katsuki bakugo.

“god, please please please don’t let him explode me to hell and back.” you whispered as you stood at your door. taking a deep breath, you left your room and walked the few feet over to his and knocked on the door. thinking about how fast you could bail and make a break for it back to your room, just in case, of course.

it only took a few seconds for him to come and open the door. the once muffled music now flooding into the halls and into your eardrums. his tanned skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat that started to soak into his black tank top and sweats. his right hand rested on the doorknob and his left held a pair of drumsticks. he scowled down at you as if you were scum to the earth.

“you just gonna stand there and stare all day? whad’dya want?” you felt your body tense at his sharp words. you tried your best to relax your muscles so he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of knowing you were uncomfortable.

“um yeah, by any chance could you tune it down a bit please? im having a really hard time working.” you twiddled with your thumbs behind your back like a child would if they were caught in lie. his face unfazed and unchanged.

“did you forgot that I can’t fucking stand you? why would I do that shit for you? why would i do anything for you?” you weren’t gonna lie to yourself, his words hurt. everytime he hurled insults at you, a small piece of your heart broke. you were a sensitive girl, you always have been. anytime he did it in front of your class, you pretended to take them in stride. once you were alone, you let the tears spill.

“look bakugo. i know you hate me. i know you can’t stand me. i know you’re mad you lost to me today. all i’m asking you to do is be a decent fucking human and turn your shit down. i never play my music this fucking loud so have some consideration.” you really didn’t mean for the words to come out. a mix of your frustration and sleepiness with an added splash of the intimidation you felt standing in front of the blonde. you had to admit, he was attractive. you would go as far to call him beautiful.

but none of that mattered now that you knew you were going to die by the hands of king explosion murder dynamight at the ripe age of 18. your eyes widened his shock like it wasn’t you that said the words but some other person. his eyes mirrored yours with his own surprised face. but his shocked expression quickly returned to a seething anger only violence could solve.

but a few looks at your pretty face and he couldn’t bring himself to pummel you into oblivion. his clenched fists relaxed.

he didn’t hate you. he hated the thought of not hating you.

“yeah I can’t fucking stand you,” he began to move closer to you, “I can’t stand the drive you just have to succeed.” you wanted to back away, but your feet wouldn’t move.

“can’t stand how supportive you are of others, even if it means they get ahead.” he dropped his drumsticks. he cares about those things like hatsume cares for her inventions. and he dropped them like they were nothing.

“grind my fuckin’ gears when you try to shake my hand and smile after we spar, even if you just got your ass handed to you. breaks my fuckin’ heart.” he was inches away from you. you still couldn’t find yourself able to move away.

“and it really gets me when you act all tough in public. dishing my insults back at me, but crying your perfect damn eyes out right next to me in your dorm. y’know how paper thin these walls are? i bet you didn’t even notice that most nights i was tearing up with you.” he was right, you never did. either he was an extremely quiet cryer or you genuinely were that loud when you sobbed. you had no idea bakugo had the capacity in his brain the feel guilt. you also never noticed how tall he really was compared to you. it’s too hard to miss now that you’re eye level with his huge, built pecs.

“why didn’t you ever say anything, bakugo?” your voice sounded more meek and mousy than you intended it too. when you traversed to his room, you were expecting at the least a door slammed in your face and to maybe return to your room with a few less teeth than you had when you left. not a goddamn love confession.

it’s not like you didn’t enjoy it, though.

because somewhere in the back of your own scattered mind, you felt the same about him.

“because you’re a stupid, stupid girl that couldn’t figure it out yourself. and yeah i guess i’m a stupid guy f-“ you cut him off before he could finish. grabbing the blonde by his sharp jaw and slim cheek to bring his lips to yours. they were soft, felt as if he applied chapstick before your came over. his breath smelled like the fresh mint sprigs he added to his water bottle.

he surprised himself and you by actually locking lips back. the way your mouth fit his felt all too natural for him, as if he was really supposed to be meant for you and vice versa. he grabbed you by your waist to pull you closer to him. he never wanted to let go, never wanted this moment to end. he wasn’t entirely sure it was real until you pulled away. a small string of saliva still connecting the two of you that verified to him that this actually happened.

the two of you stood in a fat silence. taking in the others features. neither of you wanting to speak up and ruin what already felt perfect and serene. curious hands wandered the other’s bodies. curious eyes darting back and forth to soak up every detail of the moment. after a few more moments of silence, you decided to speak up again.

“what do we do now?” you asked. not too sure if you were asking him or just asking yourself out loud. he looked at you in a puppy-dog kind of quizzical way.

“we wait for when we’re not exhausted to talk about it.” you had always admired how level-headed his decisions were, no matter the situations. from plotting murder to simple group projects to saving a city, he could always make a good, quick decision.

“tomorrow?” you replied. beginning to pull away from katsuki’s embrace. you hated the cold that began to spread across your skin where his arms were just warming you.

“it’s a date.” he gave you a smile. not the half-assed katsuki bakugo smile. a real, genuine one where you could see his singular dimple that adorned his left cheek. you returned the gesture and turned to walk the few feet over to your door. he never left his until he knew you were back in yours, safe.

now sufficiently calm, he turned his music down and replaced the loud love songs to more calming, sleepier ones. he decided in the hallway he’s gonna allow himself to go to sleep with the music still on. so the calming music could waft into your room and either help you concentrate or fill your pretty head with thoughts of sleepiness, too.

he still couldn’t stand you. but now not in a hateful way.

he couldn’t stand how perfect you are.

and he couldn’t stand how you made him fall for you so hard.

he couldn’t stand the fact that he fell for such a perfect, stupid girl.

[silent-raven13]

Power Trip

"Got me up all night," Hobie sang to himself "All I'm singin' is love songs" He fiddle with his guitar remembering the song he listened with Miles. Some rap song from a famous rapper from the young lad's world, apparently Miles enjoys this J. Cole's music.

Meanwhile, he's here lying on his bed playing on his guitar while singing this tune. His body in a bright shade of pink, he felt flustered about what happen earlier today.

-Few hours ago-

The seventeen year old punker casually walking around Spider Society with a lit cigarette in his mouth, his dark eyes seeing all the Spider-heroes going about their day. It's a busy day like always, this time there is a good amount of Spider-heroes frantically passing by the punker trying to get on their missions.

"Pfft, poor blokes." Hobie grunts to himself at the idea these Spider-heroes are so easily brainwashed into the system. It's ridiculous. He's still surprised after everything happen with Miles and Spot, they would open their eyes with the way Miguel is controlling them.

He took his almost finished cigarette tossing it across the floor just because! Fuck the establishment!

It's such a damn how easily fooled these Spider-heroes are. He wonders why he's still- "Da-Da-dadda Da! Hm-mm MmMm," Hearing someone softly singing to themselves.

"What's dis?" He asked himself knowing that voice. He looks below the edge of the floor to find Miles sitting with legs crossed on an empty space. He had wireless earbuds on and drawing on his sketchbook being on his lap.

Hobie couldn't help himself, he uses his web shooter to launch a web to a high ceiling. Then he launch himself to swing up toward his Sunflower. He hears Miles softly singing, "Would you believe me if I said I'm in love?" The punker tilted his head as he landed on his two feet behind his crush singing about love.

Miles confidently sings, "Baby, I want you to want me!" His singing isn't good, but he does love to sing along being in tune with the song.

Hobie couldn't help but chuckle at the way the sixteen year old rocks his upper body side to side. "Haha," He playfully tap Miles' left shoulder, then he jumps from being startled at the touch.

"Ah!" Miles' Spider sense went frizzy which made the punker use his own Spider sense to calm down him. "Oh shit, man! You scared me!" He had his sketch close to his chest, "Damn, I almost threw my sketchbook!"

Hobie smirks widely, "Hah, I never knew you were a scaredy cat, Sunflower." He went to sit next to Miles' right side. "I heard you singing." Miles took one of his earbuds off to listen to his friend.

"Oh god, you didn't!" Miles' face fell into a massive frown being so embarrassed. "Fuck, I thought I was high enough so no one would hear me! Ughh, this is mad embarrassing, man." He bites his bottom plump lip which got the punker to stare very hard on those lips.

"Nah, luv. You do what you love," Hobie casually said then smirks widely, "no matter if you sound like a screeching cat!"

"UGH, you're such a dick, man!" Miles playfully slap Hobie's arm before laughing at his friend's shady comment.

The punker leans back by the soft hit having to laugh out loud, then his mid-tone magazine paper started to turn slightly pink. "Easy, luv. I'm still sore from last mission."

"Oh pfft, you can't be sore! I was the one that got on that damn bull's back!" His crush scoffs by the mention of their last mission.

The Spider Band had to fight off three massive bull anomalies, which caused Miles riding one and landing in a nasty fall. He can still feel the aches on his sides. Hobie was slammed against a wall from one bull's horns. He was luckily those nasty sharp horns didn't stab him.

"Hey, you seem like you know what you were doing, mate. Riding that bull like it wasn't your first time." Hobie flirted having to imply something very dirty that made his Sunflower's face turned bashful.

"What? Pfft, no! I'm-I-I- that was my first time riding a bull." Miles could feel his cheeks burning up. "Stop being gross!"

"What? I didn't say anything... bad." Hobie smirks widely showing off his teeth, his right eyebrow raised high, "Are you implying something else, Sunflower?"

"No!" Miles lean back seeing Hobie getting close to his face. "Stop it, Hobie."

"What? I'm just lookin', luv."

"You're in my personal space." Miles' heart pound against his chest.

Hobie gave a slight nod, "Alright. Alright. Anyway, what were you listening to?" He took Miles' right earbud to put it close to his ear to hear anything, but there was no sound.

Miles went back to sketching in his sketchbook, "Heh, I paused it, dude. I was listening to J. Cole."

"Who?"

"J. Cole! You don't know who is J. Cole?" Miles asked out loud with his doe eyes widen.

"Mate, I know Sex Pistol... that's music." Hobie added

"Oh wait, my bad... you're on a different timeline. Um, in my world there's this famous rapper named J. Cole. His stuff is pretty good." He went on his Spotify to rewind the song he was listening to, "Here." His hand went to touch Hobie's hand making the punker's body turned bright pink. The slight touch of his Sunflower felt so beautifully warm and soft.

Miles's hand lightly took his earbud from Hobie's hand then put it in the punker's right ear. The Punker nuzzle against Miles' warm hand feeling it on his cheek. the two sitting closer now. Miles gently massage the punker's cheek, "Your like a cat."

"Oh yeah?" Hobie nuzzles some more, "Like this?"

"Hahaha, yeah." Miles giggles before scooting closer to Hobie's space. This time he's being bold wanting to feel the punker, to smell that musky, cigarette and cologne on him. Miles never liked the smell of cigarettes, but with Hobie, it smelled so good on him. It comforts the sixteen year old. "Hear this." He plays the song from his Smartphone.

Hobie placed his arm around Miles' narrow shoulders pulling him close. This time he's also being bold. He wanted to smell Miles' sweet mango tropical Shea Butter, and sweet vanilla scent. He always wonder why he smell so good, so sweet and a bit woody spice to it.

"Got me up all night. All I'm singin' is love songs" The song plays making Hobie's eyes focus on Miles, who's bobbing his head at the song. "She got me up all night. Constant drinkin' and love songs..."

Miles snuggle his body close against the punker while swaying himself as he sing along, "She got me up all night..." Hobie admiring lovingly at his Sunflower's soft singing, "Down and out with these love songs..."

"She got me up all night. Drownin' out with these love songs," The song plays while Hobie made his first move to lift Miles' chin up.

"Hmm? What's up?" Miles innocently asked.

Hobie slowly got close enough to Miles' lips, so close that his lower lip gently tap against Miles' bottom lip. Then he quickly pulled away being a coward. No, he can't. Miles is his friend. "Nuthin' luv."

The young Spider-man pouts, "Oh..." He expected a kid, he felt so prepare with his eyes being closed and waiting for the magic. Damn.... Oh well, Miles lay his head on Hobie's chest while drawing.

The two sat in silence while listening to Miles' playlist. Hobie's hand covering his lower mouth still kicking himself for backing out on that kiss.

"Would you believe me if I said I'm in love?" Hobie mentally sang along to the song, he didn't think he would like it so much. Especially when his Sunflower is in his arms, "Baby, I want you to want me!"

Miles glanced up to find his crush lost in his thought, he decided to be bold. He wants that kiss! "Hobie."

"Hmm?" The punker's dark eyes snapped at the teenager Spider-man turning his body to be on his knees.

"Can you closed your eyes for a moment, please?" Miles innocently asked.

The punker did as he's told. The only person who can make him listen and follow instructions. He trusts his Sunflower. In mere darkness, he felt Miles' warm hands cupping his define jawline.

"What are you planning, Sunflower?"

"Just a little surprise... no peaking." Miles' voice rings his ears, his hands made his punker lean his head back to face toward him.

The young Spider-man took another sharp inhale. Alright, here it goes! He lean forward to plant his lips onto Hobie's full black painted lips.

The punker felt soft lips with the taste of honey, and berries. Wait, lips? His eyes snap wide open to find Miles kissing him. His whole body froze, the colors on his body quickly shifts into multiple rainbow colors, then blooming into Sunflowers and hearts images with bright pink colors. Then guitars rocking symbols pop out when he felt Miles deepening his kiss by adding a bit of tongue.

Such a sexy move. It made Hobie shudder with delight. His arms tightly wraps around his Sunflower's waist, then straight his posture to continue their kisses. His own mouth did the work too.

"Mmm!" Miles softly let out a moan.

Ohh, this new. Hobie felt his own body hot, his tongue flap against his Miles' tongue. "Mmm." He let out a low purr.

"Hmphhemph," Miles gave out a throaty chuckle, before his eyes slowly open to find Hobie's eyes meeting him. He slowly pulled away from his mouth. "Hobie, you promise!"

He felt so embarrassed.

Hobie lick his lips knowing his lipstick is a mess by the way Miles' lips were stained. "I wanted to see you, luv."

"Hmph!" Miles huffs.

"Don't be like that, darling. You kiss so beautifully."

"You're just trying to get another from me." Miles pouts at his crush.

Hobie snuggles against his Sunflower, "And? Why would that be bad?" He made Miles look at him, "Hmm?"

"It's not."

"Then? I would like another, luv."

Miles giggles before lifting his crush's face to lean in another kiss, his phone rang out loud. "Oh shit, I... I gotta go. I have to be home before my mom gets back. Maybe next time." He give Hobie a quick peck on the lips before gathering his sketchbook and backpack to rush off.

Hobie's body still pink from the kiss as he watched his Sunflower opening a portal to go back home.

-present-

"He got me open all night" Hobie sang out loud as he sat outside on the roof of his boat house, "All I'm singin' is love songs..." He stood daze thinking about that kiss. That delicious, addictive kiss.

[oliversrarebooks]

The amount I would like to see Jameson and Alex have a high society slap fight is more than a little lol

Masterlist

March 1920

tw: mind control, captivity, references to abuse

"Good evening, Lord Alexander!" said Miriam as she opened the door, beckoning him inside nervously.

"Good evening, Miriam. You seem agitated -- is everything all right?"

Miriam sighed with a smile. "Madam's overworking herself again, sir. It's not my place to overstep as her thrall, but I'm concerned about her health. I'm glad you came to call. She listens to you, sir."

"Do you really believe that? I don't," said Lex, chuckling. "Regardless, I don't think you're overstepping. I think it's very good for you to care for your madam. Lily needs people looking out for her."

Miriam beamed like she'd won the lottery. "Thank you, sir."

Lex allowed Miriam to lead him into the parlor. He was quite fond of Lily's latest thrall. She had remained sharp under the enthrallment so far -- no surprise, given how skilled Lily was at her craft. A good sign for her future, he thought.

"Oh, Lex, there you are," said Lily, who was lounging in an undignified manner on the couch, surrounded by magazines and bits of yarn and fabric. "I'm glad you were able to pull yourself out of your book-cave long enough to come calling. I've been drowning in work lately, and I need someone to socialize with who isn't a thrall I'm hypnotizing, or I might lose my own mind."

"Rough week, then," he said, settling down in a plush chair. Nearby, Miriam sat down in a chair in the corner, taking up an embroidery project.

"It's been one thing after another. I think the long winter has given everyone cabin fever, and they've all collectively decided that they're dissatisfied with their perfectly functional thralls. You won't believe what I've had to put up with." 

"Such as?" Lex leaned in.

"The most ridiculous complaints. 'He taps his foot while he reads.' 'She turns the radio on too loud.' As though they need me to solve that," she said with a frustrated groan. "The worst one was 'his human food smells bad.' I turned him away -- 'sorry, sir, I can't do anything about the fact that your human thrall requires human food.'"

Miriam made a strange noise of distress.

"What is it?" Lily asked.

"Does my human food smell bad?"

"Oh, no, of course not! You haven't done a thing wrong, Miriam. It's the vampires who are being unreasonable."

"It's awful that they treat their thralls like that," said Lex. "What ever happened to treating your thralls with dignity?"

"Exactly, you understand. Speaking of which -- " Whatever Lily was about to say was cut off by the doorbell ringing. "Oh, for crying out loud, who could that be? I cleared my schedule today."

Lex, having an uneasy feeling about this, followed Lily to the door, and was none too happy to see the perturbed visage of Jameson, a vampire he truly despised. He was gripping a smaller man by the shoulders, an unfortunate thrall who had clearly been crying.

"And what do you want?" said Lily bluntly.

"Is that any way to treat a customer?" he said.

"You're not a customer until you tell me what you want and I agree to it," she said. "And in case you didn't know, asking me to work on such short notice will cost you an extra 20%."

"I'm aware," he said. "I'm at my wit's end with this thrall. He's supposed to be fully mindwiped, but he keeps sniffling and making the most obnoxious whining noises."

"What on earth did you do to that poor man?" asked Lex. He'd never been able to stand the company of vampires who preferred their thralls to be little better than cattle, especially if the vampire in question abused their innocent humans. That dislike was mutual -- vampires like Jameson rarely mingled with those like Lex who believed they had an obligation to give their thralls a good life.

Jameson scowled at Lex. "It's none of your business, is it? I'm here to make a business transaction with Miss Lily and certainly not with you."

"Fine," she said with an annoyed huff. "Let me see your thrall. You can sit in the parlor until I'm done."

The thrall's eyes held a spark of recognition when he looked at Lily. Considering what a thorough job she did with the mindwipes -- preferring not to have to do it twice, and trying to minimize the thrall's suffering -- he must have been under a lot of stress to wake up enough to regain memories. Damn that Jameson.

No doubt, Jameson would rather not deal with Lily at all, but although he was in possession of a strong vampiric aura, his enthralling abilities were known to be below average. He had no choice but to hire an expert to work with his thralls, lest he destroy their minds utterly and leave himself responsible for a comatose bloodbag.

As Lily took the thrall into her workroom, Jameson sat down in the parlor with a sour look on his face. In her corner, Miriam was staring at him with a haunted expression. Lex wasn't sure if she actually knew Jameson, or if she saw how he treated his thrall and rightfully regarded him as a threat. He gave the poor girl a look as if she were lower than a bug, and she shrank further into her seat.

The humane and sympathetic thing to do would be to send Miriam out of the room until Jameson left. But Lex, annoyed at Jameson's rotten attitude and the interruption of his social call, couldn't help but do something a bit petty that he knew would annoy the other vampire.

He pulled up a chair next to Miriam. "This embroidery you're working on is very intricate. Can you show me your work?"

Miriam smiled. At least she seemed comforted by having Lex nearby, distracting her from the vampire glaring daggers at her. "Oh, yes, sir, of course," she said, showing him the pattern she'd carefully cut from a magazine. "It's a skirt with flowers and birds all up and down it. The original pattern has green leaves and blue birds, but I had this lovely rust-colored fabric to use, and I thought it would go very well with autumn leaves and red birds, like cardinals."

"You have a good eye for color, Miriam, and it's coming along splendidly," said Lex.

"Thank you, sir, I truly appreciate that!"

"Hmph." Jameson sniffed.

"Is there some problem?" said Lex.

"I just think it's a terrible shame that a vampire so gifted with conditioning chooses to keep her thrall in such disgraceful condition," he said, with a pointed glance to Miriam, who clutched Lex's arm fearfully. "She could easily erase her thralls and keep them in a far more agreeable state where they don't require entertainment or attention, and yet, she chooses this. You'd think her sire would have taught her better."

Miriam gripped Lex's arm hard enough to hurt, and Lex regretted that he'd provoked Jameson instead of sending her out. "Sir -- if I displease you --"

"You haven't displeased anyone, Miriam," Lex said, patting her hand in a comforting gesture. "You're an excellent thrall, and your madam also thinks so. She tells me all the time. You don't need to listen to what Lord Jameson says."

"Of course you'd think that," said Jameson. "That's about what I'd expect from a thrall-screwer."

Lex glared at Jameson with a simmering rage. "I'd suggest you be quiet, lest you say something you'll regret."

"Why would I regret speaking the truth?" said Jameson. "We all know you fell for that nasty little blond thing. A revolting thrall, and no better as a vampire, if you ask me."

Lex's temper flared. He was obviously baiting Lex for a confrontation, looking to stir shit for his own amusement. Lex really should ignore the meaningless squawking of an ignorant asshole just trying to get a rise out of him.

Instead, he stood from his chair, crossed the parlor in a flash, and slapped Jameson across the face as hard as he could. 

Jameson looked stunned for a moment, the bright red mark emblazoned across his cheek, then started to laugh. "And I thought you considered yourself civilized! Well, if that's how you like it..." There was a flash in his eyes as he flared his vampiric aura, and Lex could feel it, like rodents skittering along his limbs and gnawing at his flesh, like a thousand beady red eyes boring into him. The sensation made the hair on the back of Lex's neck stand up.

It was an aura that could easily subdue a lesser vampire, but Lex hadn't survived this long in this city by allowing any upstart vampire to best him, especially with his honor at stake. He took a deep breath, pushing his own aura outward in an inexorable wave. He was a storm on the ocean, waves and surf pounding, wooden ship cracking beneath your feet, the feeling of being pulled down into the dark and briny depths with no hope of escape.

Jameson furrowed his brow and intensified his efforts, but this was a battle he could not win, and it was so satisfying when his facade cracked and he showed his first sign of fear --

-- at least until both of them were swept off their feet by an even more powerful force of will.

"Hey!" Lily bellowed from the doorway. "What the devil do you two think you're doing?"

Lex looked at her sheepishly, not wanting to admit he'd been having a pointless tussle with with her customer. Jameson primarily looked annoyed that their fight had been interrupted.

"You two were laying it on so thick that I could feel your auras in my workroom. I don't know how you expect me to put a thrall under in those conditions." She went to comfort Miriam, who clung onto her skirt. "And you've upset my Miriam."

"Sorry, Lily," said Lex, and mostly meant it. At least, he did very much regret upsetting Miriam, who didn't deserve to be caught in this crossfire at all.

Lily sighed. "Lex, take Miriam to the kitchen and help her calm down," she said. "And as for you, Lord Jameson, you will sit quietly until my work is done, and I'm tacking on a surcharge for that little outburst."

"You can't be serious," he said, slamming his hands on the table. "It was Lord Alexander who --"

"Then you're free to take your thrall and leave."

Jameson settled back down onto the couch with a huff, like a petulant child. "Fine. Do what you will."

With that settled, Lex ushered a still-frightened Miriam into the kitchen as Lily returned to her work. "I'm sorry for being so sensitive, sir," she said.

"Don't be, not at all. I'm sorry for provoking that rat Jameson." He handed Miriam a handkerchief, which she used to wipe tears from her eyes. "You can relax here. He won't bother you any more. Now, is there any kind of snack you might like?"

"Sir, you don't need to --"

"It's my pleasure. The least I can do." He pulled out a chair and beckoned her to sit. "What would you like?"

"May I have strawberries with sugar, sir?"

"Certainly," he said, relieved that she asked for a dish he knew how to prepare, his knowledge of human cooking spotty at best. He found the fresh strawberries in the icebox, and made quick work of cutting them up and sprinkling them with sugar. 

Miriam's eyes lit up as she dug into the  sweet berries. "Thank you very much, sir!"

Lex settled down into the chair across from her as she ate. She was still a fairly bright thrall, but he knew that his sire would have her in his sights sooner rather than later. Lily would wipe her memories of the trauma, and her deterioration would begin. A slow moving tragedy, one he'd seen play out quite a few times by now.

Even so, she was certainly in a better position than that man in Lily's workshop. Her re-enthrallment of him would no doubt be a mercy compared to being lucid in Jameson's grasp.

What must it be like...?

He pushed the errant thought from his mind, not wanting to stir up dusty memories of his own enthrallment, so many years ago now.

Masterlist

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

[elocinnicole]

Hi, how are you! If you stil take requests, can I ask for a request for Daveed x fem!reader, Daveed making reader work for her nth release by making her idk…ride him up and down, and reader is just drooling, sobbing because she’s been fucked stupid and just wants to cum again even after she’s been creampied over and over again before Daveed flips them and makes her cum, 3 more times than she’s expecting to cum. 🫶🫶🫶 that scenario’s been on my mind a handful of times idk why😭😭😭😭

“Wait, wait—mmfuck Daveed!” You cried out, you placed your hand on Daveed’s stomach to get him to ease up on the brutal pace he set. You’ve forgotten how many times you orgasmed tonight; you lost count after the third one.

“Naw, you was acting like a brat all day. Now you gotta take your punishment.”

To be fair, you were trying to get under Daveed’s skin all day while he was working. You had been feeling neglected and wanted attention. So, you took it upon yourself to put on some lingerie, take some pictures and send it to Daveed. Not only that, but you also even took videos of yourself masturbating and sent Daveed those as well. That was probably where you messed up, you should’ve known what you were in for when he texted you back with a simple “Oh okay”. Now here you are, ankles pushed back to your ears and Daveed fucking into you at an unrelenting pace.

“You can take it, can’t you?” You nodded Daveed lightly slapped your face

“Words, you can take it right?”

“Yes, Daddy.” You moaned

“Gonna be a good girl for Daddy.”

“I’ll be good. I’ll be a good girl.” Daveed used his thumbs to rub fast circles on your clit causing you to scream.

“I can’t, I can’t—it’s too much—Ahaaa!” Daveed pinched your clit making you see the stars and pushing you over the edge again.

“You should’ve thought about that earlier. You played yourself.” Daveed kept going fucking you through your orgasm and his. You were going to have to get a Plan B tomorrow the way he was shooting the club up. The sound of his dick sliding in and out along with his cum is enough to make you cum again. Daveed pulls out and smirked at the relief on your face.

“We ain’t done yet,” he flipped you over so that you were on all fours.

Without warning Daveed pushes in and sets a quick pace. You moan into the pillow.

“Yeah, take that shit.”

“Please, please, please,” You don’t even know what you were asking Daveed was fucking all the logic out of your brain. You put your hand behind you only to have Daveed pin it to your back, his other hand slapping your ass.

“You know what you gotta say,” Daveed grunted

“M’sorry.” You said into the pillow, he slapped your ass again

“I can’t hear you, baby.” You picked your head up

“I’m sorry Daddy,”

“You gonna do that shit again?”

“No, no, I promise.” You babbled; Daveed smirked at the image in front of him. You drooling on the pillow, bouncing back on his dick. He could feel you tighten around him a tell-tale sign that you were going to orgasm.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” You screamed, it was times like this when you were grateful that you and Daveed finally moved out of the apartment, the amount of noise complaints was starting to get ridiculous not that Daveed cared, he practically loved it when he would get that email from the Landlord.

You felt Daveed pull out of you, you relax thinking you were done. Daveed grabbed your waist and rolled the two of you over so you were straddling him.

“Ride this dick,” You could barely move your legs as you lined up with Daveed. You started with a slow pace maintaining eye contact the entire time. You felt his hand slap onto your ass, kneading it.

“You close baby?”

“Mhmm!” You were bouncing up and down on Daveed’s dick, using his shoulders as leverage. You could feel the coil in your stomach begin to snap. Daveed decided to play with your clit that’s all you needed before you let everything out. Daveed groaned shooting thick ropes of cum inside you. You squealed at the sensation. Daveed looked down at the mess the two of you made before your head fell onto his chest.

You didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep until you woke up with a blanket on your body and Daveed was nowhere to be found. You were wearing one of his t-shirts you were about to go looking for your boyfriend when the bedroom opened to reveal Daveed and two bags of food. He sent a smile your way before walking over to kiss you.

“I got us some food.”

“How long was I sleep?”

“An hour or so. You fell asleep not long after. We took a bath and then I went to go get food.” Daveed handed you your food and joined you on the bed to watch your favorite shows.

“You okay? I wasn’t too rough was I?” Daveed asked genuinely concerned, you leaned up and kisses his cheek

“You were great, I’m a little sore.” There was a brief but comfortable moment of silence between the two of you before Daveed spoke up.

“We should probably get a Plan B in the morning.”

Tagging: @nikole-witha-k @blackpinup22 @iknowthekoolaidflavor @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @ramp-it-up @daveeds-wife @chattykathysquietsister @mellie-teh-goblin-queen @azxulaa @endless-romantic-stories @chrisevanswife0405 @gothic-slasherfan-weeb @pinkbonnetandglasses @cocobutterbaby @moxleys-fav @aonungmyaddiction

[best-habsburg-monarch]

Maria Theresa, Archduchess of Austria, Queen of Hungary, Croatia and Bohemia, etc. reigned 1740-1780

The empress who reformed the empire while having a ton of children at the same time.

Maximilian , Emperor of Mexico, reign: 1864-1867

The last emperor of Mexico who supported liberal reform against the desires of Mexican conservatives.

Propaganda under the cut:

Maria Theresa:

From anon:

- chucked into ruling at age 23. while pregnant

- no prep!!!! Prussia invades Silesia!!! Ministers fucking around for their own provincial interests instead of for the Whole !!!!! and she has to somehow cope with all of this ....

- ALL WHILE being pregnant with Joseph (II) and we know that guy was just as ornery in utero as he was irl

- she's everything! He (Francis) is just ....Ken.

- YAS QUEEN rediversify that gene pool

- originally reluctant to participate in the 1st partition of poland (who wants galicia let's be real)

Maximilian

From: anon

- He loved plants

- He was a sassy man

- He had good taste

- He learned Nahuatl

- He’s cute (I mean look at him)

- He said “gay rights”

- He banned child labour in Mexico

- He gave many rights back to indigenous people

- Bro was wronged by France (haven’t we all?)

- He’s baby

- Got executed, come on, give him this guys 🥺

- He loved to design gardens and collect insects which makes me think he would've loved playing animal crossing

- An outspoken liberal in a period where the monarchy was still quite conservative.

- Vice-Admiral of the Navy who initiated scientific projects and exploration.

- Aesthetic girlie. Collected flowers, painted, wrote poetry, and kept a journal. He would have loved Tumblr.

- (Probably) gay or bisexual.

- Allegedly slapped Franz Joseph for refusing to allow Lombardy to have an elective body.

- Sisi's favorite brother-in-law (and not in a romantic way, fuck you Netflix)

- Refused to take the Mexican crown until a plebiscite had been held because he wanted to be invited by the Mexican people.

- Gave up all of his Austrian titles to go to Mexico because he believed he had made a promise to them.

- Also, his wife was amazing and capable and the amount of pure misogyny that certain historians and biographers have thrown at her is ridiculous. I know this isn't a Carlota poll, but she'd want Max to win.

- Netflix did him unbelievably dirty. Please give him this.

Did you know my man Max repatriated many pieces of Mexica artefacts?

He told Austria to cough up 3 main things that he thought were rightfully Mexican.

1. The Chimalli

2. A codex

3. A letter from Cortez to the chocolate man people seem to call Charles

The Austrians took their time but eventually gave back something

The Chimalli next to max so people know who to thank for it