#and i am gnawing through my pencils

[larrylimericks]

The fan pics keep coming and coming, In which Tank Top Louis looks stunning. This Loliday’s giving! How’s Harry still living? Our minds, hearts and parts won’t stop thrumming.

Photos: 😏 😎 🥵 🙂

[omgeto]

☆ WHEN YOU HAVE SEX WITH YOUR PROFESSOR — NANAMI, TOJI, GETO, GOJO.

summary: you have sex with your professor. for many different reasons.

wc: 4.2k (each of these were meant to be 500 words long so idk what happened)

cw: smutty smut afab!reader who's in university, mutual masturbation, spanking, semi public sex, toji is not a professor but a gym coach who rails you in a supply closet, but theres a lot of sex on a lot of desks so mdni.

an: theres actually a smidge of plot in this just a tiny bit if you do a deep squint, but the smut id personally say is my best yet. so give it a chance people, but come for the smut stay for the dialogue. hope you enjoy! not proofread ignore mistakes pls

☆ NANAMI

nanami kento, was the strictest teacher you have ever had. you couldn’t get away with your usual tricks that you did with some of your other professors — strutting past their office during office hours in your skimpiest clothes to get a better grade. it was as if nanami was immune to all your devices.

but with a big exam coming up, you knew you had to make something happen since studying was not your forte. so you were prepared to do anything to get that A.

“come in," his deep voice calls from inside.

as you enter his office, you are met with the sight of your professor, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, reviewing a stack of papers. he glances up at you briefly before returning his attention to his work.

"what can I help you with?" he ask, his tone professional.

“i wanted to see if we could talk about the exam you set for us tomorrow,” you start to say, his eyes still focused on his papers, not sparing you a glance. “i was thinking we could figure out a way for me to get extra credit… sir.” 

you had his attention now. technically you’ve always had his attention — yes nanami was different to all the other professors you’ve ever had but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t a man at the end of the day. 

he always noticed the way you’d sit in his classroom, your pouty mouth always gnawing at your pencil as you never had a clue what was going on. nanami always had to hide his dick feeling tight in his trousers whenever you walk into his classroom. little did you know that you actually would’ve failed his class a long time ago, but because he just couldn’t let go of the sight of how your pretty tits bounce everytime you raise your hand, he always made you pass. 

“well what are you willing to do for that extra credit?” he says, his tone slightly amused.

“whatever you want” you respond a bit too eagerly, you were coming onto him hard. but it was working, you could already see the crack in his usual stoic facade. “c’mon professor nanami, i need to pass this class,” you practically beg. 

“oh yeah, you definitely need to pass this exam, you’re one more failed exam to flunking my whole class,” he affirms — lying through his teeth. “so i think you should come sit up here, and show me what you’re willing to do huh.”

suddenly, you start to feel nervous. usually you’d have control of the situation, you’d flaunt your ass, fuck your teacher and get an A, easily. but this time, you could see in nanami’s eyes that from when you entered his office — that he was running the show.

you saunter over his desk, and he pushes his seat back allowing you to have room to perch on his desk in front of him. “take off your shirt,” he commands, and you’re quick to fling off your top — that was barely covering anything anyways, “wow no bra, why am i not surprised.” he stares at your hardened nipples smirking as he continues to say, “you know i see your nipples peeking at me through your shit all the time in class.”

“really?” you question coyly.

“you don’t think i see how you practically fuck yourself in your seat when i’m doing a reading,” he continues, his arms folding as if he was telling you off, “a bit disrespectful, right?”

“no i-it’s just i really like the sound of your voice,” you stammer, embarrassed at him calling you out. you couldn’t deny that your professor was hot, everybody thought so and you hated school the only thing that got you through your classes was your day dreams of him fucking you.

“oh really, well i wanna see you get off to it for real this time.”

“wha—”

“touch yourself,” he demands with a grin, “fuck yourself on your fingers, put on a show for me,” he loosens his tie, and unbuttons his cuffs, ready to watch you perform for him, “and if you do well, then we could talk about your extra credit.”

you take off your pants, your hands moving directly to your throbbing pussy — since of course you had no panties on. you press your thumb down on your clit as your fingers work their way into your cunt. you were already soaked, just from hearing your professor speak to you, so it was easy to slide your digits in and out of you. 

nanami’s grin grows wider, loving the way your work your pussy,  “you not gonna play with your tits?” and you take his hint, your other hand sliding up to cup one of your boobs, your fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples. “good girl,” he praises.

you add another finger inside of you, writhing down hard on his desk against your digits. you quicken your pace, rubbing your thumb vigorously against your clit. his gaze on you served as an encouragement, your ultimate goal was shifted, at this point you didn’t care whether he passed or failed you — you just wanted to put on a good show for him.

“you gonna cum for me?” he taunts, the sound of your pussy squelching around your fingers as you drive them in is like music to his ears. you barely even noticed him fisting his dick, stroking it hard — matching the pace of your fingers hammers your cunt.  “you gonna make a big mess for me all over my desk?”

“professor i-” you whine, wanting more than just your own fingers inside of you, “please i need—”

“professor? what was it that you called me earlier?” he teases, “remind me of that and then maybe i’ll give you what you’re begging for.”

“s-sir please,” you sputter, barely being able to string a sentence together. you could feel you were about to cum hard. your fingers were still drilling into your pussy, and your hands were still suctioned on your tit and nanami's dick was taunting you. “i need you.”

“you need me hmm?” he mocks, his eyebrow tilting as he stares at your fucked out face.

“yeah p-please i need your dick,” you beg, your pussy was gushing all over your fingers, as your strokes got sloppier, “i need you i-in me.”

“oh really?” he asks with a smirk, a slight chuckle as you nod eagerly, “well too bad.”

“wha—”

“you really thought i’d put my dick in a slutty student that’s not even smart enough to even pass my class?” he lectures, he tuts his teeth, shaking his head, “now finish off for me and leave office hours end in a few minutes.”

“f-fuck,” you moan out, you could barely even process his words, too busy focused on cumming all over your fingers to think about how he just denied you of what you really wanted, your hand falls off your tit, your head jerking back as your release over his desk. he’s quick to cum too, biting down on his fist to surpress the loud moan threatening to come out

“you really made a mess for me huh,” he observes, swiping his fingers across the pool of cum you left on his desk and bringing it into his mouth, “sweet.” you were at a loss for words, you were just coached through one of the best orgasms you ever had from your professor — and he didn’t even touch you — yet you still don’t know whether he’s gonna pass you or not.

“so about that exam…?” you voice trails, as you put back on your shirt, hopping of his desk.

“i’ll think about it, sit the exam first and i’ll see what i can do,” his voice turns serious, and he nods his head in the direction for you to leave indicating for you to get up out of his office. but just before you're about to leave the room he calls out to you, “oi.”

“thanks for the live show.” 

☆ TOJI 

“why do we always have to fuck in such awkward spaces,” you complain nearly tripping on a basketball as toji holds you upright.

“you know you love it baby,” he smirks, pressing a kiss to your cheek, thrusting up into you further. 

you were in the gym supply closet, having your weekly sex with your university's gym teacher. you don’t even know how your little routine came about but once he started to hammer into you every friday after basketball practice, you’ve never missed a meet up.

“don’t call me that,” you groan out at the use of his pet name.

“why not?” he grumbles, cupping your tits with his hands as he stands behind you, “aren’t you students s’pposed to listen to your teachers and all that.”

you take a sharp inhale as his large hands smother your boobs, his thick things toy with your nipples, “but y-you aren’t a real teacher, in case you forgot.”

“am too,” he mutters like a child.

“a-are not,” you spit back just as childishly.

“am, too,” he persists, thrusting into you hard. pushing you down by your nape, forcing your hands to grip onto some random gym apparatus. he uses his foot to spread your legs apart wider so he can fit right behind you. fucking into you with something to prove.

“you teach gym to a bunch of brain dead j-jocks, wouldn’t say that classifies as being an actual professor toji.” you continue riling him up, biting your lip as his hammers into you harder. “you’re more like a glorified personal trainer than a teacher.”

he drives into you deeper, “oh and your just an uppity bitch, who still ended up fucking this ‘personal teacher,’ in a gym closet,” his mouth moves close to your ear, as he whispers, “so what does that say about you baby?” he presses a kiss underneath your ear lobe, before lightly sucking on it.

his words go straight to your core, him calling you an ‘uppity bitch’ had the exact effect he intended them to have — you throwing  your ass on his dick, fucking him back as hard as he was fucking you. 

he sends a smack to your ass, biting his lip as it ripples at the contact of his palm. his slaps were merciless, having you scream out every time he hits your cheek. “how’s this for a glorified personal trainer huh?” he coos in your ear, feeling dignified as you rut against him more feigning for more of his dick in your throbbing pussy. 

“ah you f-fill me up s-so so good,” you mewl out, as his dick pumps in and out of you stuffing you with every thrust. his mouth latches onto the nape of your neck, sucking on it as he ploughs into you deeper, hitting your spot with pinpoint accuracy.

“i know i do baby, i always stuff you good don’t i?” he groans out, your pussy was a vice grip on his dick, had him suppressing his moans whenever you clenched around him, “don’t know why you fuck around with these lame ass boys in your classes, they can’t fuck you like i do. do they?”

“well…” you voice trails in a teasing tone.

“dont f-fucking play with me,” he sputters, feeling himself about to bust all inside of you, “i’m the only one you fucking right,” when he doesn’t hear an immediate answer, he shoves himself into you his hips pushing right against your ass, “right?”

“y-yes fuck, right,” you sigh rolling your eyes at his act of possessiveness — ignoring how you pussy got even wetter at his words. “you’re the b-best i ever had, toji.”

“you’re damn right i am,” he scoffs out giving your ass one final slap as he says, “you going finish all over my dick, c’mon baby coat my dick with your sweet sweet,” and you do just that. you cum with a cry, releasing all over toji, as he shoots into you a loud groan leaving his mouth.

“aww i forgot how loud you get for me,” you tease him as he pulls out of you, turning to look at him with a grin, which he huffs out, “anyways what did i tell you about cumming in me, i'm not one of those cheerleaders you run around with,” you fuss swatting at his chest.

“yeah you aren’t one of the cheerleaders i run around with,” he repeats, “hence why i can cum in you, you know you’re my favourite fuck out of all my students”

“ugh you’re so gross.”

“you say that with my cum running down your legs,” he says, giving you a pointed look, his eyes staring down at your thighs, “i do have another hour till my next class i gotta teach, so i could clean it up for you?” he offers, already going down to his knees, knowing that was a suggestion you would not deny.

“if you insist.”

he starts to suck against your thighs as you lean against the wall, sandwiched between a goal post and a hockey stick, but just before his lips latch onto your pussy, he looks up to you with a pout, “do you really think gym coaches aren’t teachers?”

“oh shut up toji,” you mutter, pushing his head to your cunt.

☆ GETO

you storm into your professors office, pissed off. professor geto was the worst teacher you’ve ever had. he was cocky, arrogant and most of the time he didn’t have a clue what he was teaching. 

“ah miss know it all,” he muses, his personal nickname he created for you during his first semester of being your professor, “to what do i owe the pleasure this time.” you were no stranger to geto’s office, you were practically the only student that actually used his office hours. geto didn’t mind it though. the unplanned visits, your impoliteness — he was amused by it. 

“could you explain why you gave me a B, on my last paper?” you interrogate, waving said essay in his face furiously, “when we both know that this is easily worth an A.”

“i just think you could do better,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “i just think you haven’t harnessed your true potential, that’s all.” geto knew you were smart, the smartest person he’s ever taught. he just needed to get you in his office. and he knew a below average grade on an essay, that didn’t even matter, was the way to do that.

“and what do you know about potential?” you mutter, more to yourself than anything, “i don’t even know how you managed to get this job.”

he rolls his eyes at your comments, “do you really want this A?” 

"of course i want the stupid A," you reply, your tone determined. "i've put in the effort, and i've met all the requirements for this paper. there's no reason for you to give me a B except for your own personal bias against me."

“personal bias? some may argue that you’re actually my favourite?” geto leans back in his chair, a sly grin on his face. "but alright, then. here's the deal," he says, folding his arms. "if you can convince me right now, in this very moment, that you deserve an A for this paper, i'll change your grade. but you'll have to persuade me.”

“persuade you?” you retort, “what you want me to do a powerpoint presentation or something…?” 

he chuckles, shaking his head at your naivety, for someone so smart you somehow lack social awareness, “no i wanna see if you taste as good as you look.”

“you mean…” your voice trails, finally catching on to what he was getting at.

“come lay down on my desk,” he says casually as if this was a usual ordeal between the two of you. he could see you hesitating, “you do want that A right?” 

your feet were stuck in the ground, you never wanted to be one of those girls — ones that had to fuck a teacher just to get through university. but, regardless of your below A grade, you were more curious about what it would actually be like. especially with a professor that looked like geto. 

you lay down on his desk, nervous, you could feel his breath on your stomach as he slides down your jeans. he was kneeling down, his face at the same level as your pussy. he toys with your underwear, pulling at it and snapping it against your skin, giving you a smile of approval in your choice of panties. but just before he pulls them off you he asks, “you sure you want to do it smarty? you can run back to your dorm if you want?”

“anything to get the A,” you grit out, basically lying, since getting your grade improved was the last thing on your mind as he pulls off your underwear. 

he takes his hair — that was usually tied up in bun —  down, releasing his long hair, “just in case you need something to pull on,” he smirks.

his fingers slide across your wet slit, spreading your lips. he presses a kiss on your clit, slightly nibbling on it before working his mouth down to your pussy. you gasp at the contact as he latches his mouth on you, his tongue darting into your cunt at a quick pace. 

geto hums in satisfaction as you hands immediately go to grab his hair, pulling at it as his tongue gives you long strokes, lapping up all the juices already spilling out of you. “i didn’t think my star student would be this needy, if only the class could see you now.” he taunts lifting his head up, “i guess they wouldn’t be surprised though, your as hungry for my tongue as you are to answer questions in class,” he finishes with a chuckle pressing a kiss to your thigh.

but you’re quick to silence him, clenching your thighs against his head, “s-shut up,” you whine, thrusting your hips up in his face to meet his tongue. your head was swirling, you could barely remember how you ended up on your professors desk in the first place. but all you were focused on was clawing your fingers through his scalp as he slurps and sucks on your pussy.

“oh m-my god,” you murmur, soaking his face. he could tell by the way you pushing his face deeper into your cunt, his nose forced into your arousal that you were close.

“ready to let me taste you” he asks, his voice sending vibrations over your pussy, “wanna taste you so fucking bad.”

“fuck d-didn’t think it’ll be this g-good,” you whine out. he brings his thumb to you clit rubbing it as fast as he could taking you over the edge. you moan out, practically squealing, as you squirt all over his face. he smirks, trying to get as much as it as he can.

“i didn’t know my star student could squirt,” he teases, his mouth glistening with evidence of you, “or should i call you my star squirter.”

“haha, very funny…” you deadpan, becoming slightly shy at seeing him lick his lips wiping the last remains of you off of him.

“i guess my theory was right,” he concludes.

“what theory?” you ask, puzzled, forgetting the whole reason you let him eat you out in the first place.

“you do taste as good as you look,” he comments with a pleased grin, already reminiscing about you squirting all over his face.

“so about my A?” you ask pulling up your jeans, and collecting your things.

“yeah i’ll expect your rewrite on my desk by friday,” he shrugs, going back to his nonchalant persona.

“rewrite? did you not promise me an A if i can ‘persuade you,’ at how badly i want it?” you question, going back to your original state of being pissed off, “did i not persuade you mr ‘you do taste as good as you look.’ this is so unfair”

“ask me if i care about fairness?” he smirks, a laugh leaving his lips as he watches you storm out of his office, “hey! you left your underwear,” he calls out behind you, his laugh growing as you say nothing, putting up your middle finger at him and slamming his door shut.

☆ GOJO

“do you want to lose your job?” you chastise, “shut the fuck up.”

“but i can’t help it,” he purrs, nuzzling into your neck to suppress his non stop moans and whines that he was doing as he pushed his dick in you, “your pussy’s just too good.”

you were leaning against the desk of your professor gojo’s lecture hall, your legs wrapped around his bag as he hoisted you up, grinding his body against yours as his dick drives in your pussy. 

it was after hours, and gojo forgot to lock his classroom doors. as soon as your peers left the room he was quick to put his lips on yours, throwing all the stationary on his desk on the floor in the most dramatic fashion ever. 

you don’t know how you got entangled in a relationship with your teacher. since you didn’t actually benefit from it, and he was needier and clingier than an actual student your age. but the mind blowing orgasms he gave you every now and again made you forget all of his ‘bad qualities.’

“c’mon don’t tell me it’s not making you feel wetter,” he murmurs in between kisses, “the idea of someone walking in on me fucking your pretty little pussy.” you ignore him, your arms tightening around his neck as you bounce on his dick. “tell me that doesn’t make you hot,” he eases his dick out of you slightly, drawing both of your attention to his member already covered in your juices. his eyebrows raise when you look back at him as if he’s just proved his point.

“whatever, i guess the idea of us getting caught isn’t that bad,” you lie, knowing it was causing you to get better, “but if we do get caught then it's your ass gojo.”

“aww you’re so thoughtful,” he coos, “you really care about me and my job, will you miss me if i get fired?”

“well i’ll miss my on campus dick,” you mutter, scratching at his back, as he thrusts into you deeper, “but i’ll be able to replace you quickly i guess.”

“oh how you wound me,” he mocks, pulling you into a deep kiss, desperate to taste you. that was gojo’s favourite thing to do to you, of course your pussy was great, but your lips were his favourite thing. sometimes he’d even drag you out of the hallway into his office —not a care in the world if anyone was around— and pull you into his lap just shove his tongue into your mouth and fondle your tits.

for a lousy professor, gojo sure knew your body well. he knew every spot to hit, every place to kiss, every stroke to make and you loved it. the scratches you were giving him on his back, encouraging him to go deeper, stuffing you to the brim. “f-fuckk you take me so so well,” he moans in your ear, whining and grunting as you tighten your hold around him. 

“i’m close,” he mutters, his pace slowing. he lowers you down so your back is laying on the desk and he swoops his mouth down to your tits. enveloping your left breast with his mouth, greedily suckling at it. 

“wow already?” you taunt, “you’ve really lost your touch professor, when i was an undergrad we could go at it for days.” his mouth pauses, as he looks up at you with a pointed look that reads as ‘girl really? as if you aren’t close.’ he wasn’t wrong, from his deep long strokes in your pussy, and his tongue twisting on your nipples, you were ready to cum all over him.

“gojo shit,” you curse, your hand coming down to your clit, flicking at it fast to speed up your orgasm. but gojo slaps your hand away, almost offended that you would try to cum off of something other than his hands and mouth. he bites down on your nipple, punishingly and that sends you overboard. you let out a shriek as you cum all over his dick, your hand quickly coming over your mouth to suppress your whines.

“what happened to being quiet huh?” he mocks your warning from earlier, “don’t want to get caught, do we now?” but he’s quick to let out a deep moan, as he releases into you, spraying your walls with all your cum. he slumps over you, exhausted, and wanting to just feel you — gojo was always needy after sex.

after you both come down from your highs and clean up — thankful that nobody stumbled across you. gojo pulls you into his lap, dabbing kisses all over your neck, “so when you gonna let me take you out, outside the classroom?”

“y’know that’s not allowed right?” you remind him, looking at your professor as if he’s lost his mind, “what we’re doing now isn’t allowed, but out in public is a no go, gojo.”

“not allowed?” he retorts, as if it’s news to him, “i thought it was just heavily frowned upon?!”

an: sooo what did you think? which one was your favourite. me personal lame gym coach toji really did it for me. tagging my girl @jabamin mainly just for nanami. but yes ALSO IDK WHY I MADE THE READER DUMB IN THE NANAMI FIC, but I juxtaposed it by making you super smart in the geto fic so it balances it out. anyways lmk what you thought, thanks for reading!! DONT USE MY DIVIDERS

[ne0npeachez]

₊✧ ﾟ⚬𓂂 12:08 AM — 1610!miles x gn!reader.

3k words ; fluffy smut ; reader + miles are 19 and in college ; established relationship ; praise kink ; some hair tugging ; a little biting ; oral sex (reader receiving)

summary ⋅˚₊‧ miles notices how hard you’ve been working and decides to give you a well-deserved reward.

liên’s notes ⋅˚₊‧ made this for one of my sisters bc she’s in love w miles ; sorry if there’s any errors and if he’s ooc btw, i sat down and wrote this within four hours and i haven’t slept in a day. hope you enjoy !!

nsfw under the cut !

when miles climbs in through your bedroom window, you hardly notice.

you’re currently hunched over your desk, homework messily sprawled beneath you. chicken scratch adorns every page in sight; you’d given up on making it look nice hours ago. all that matters now is getting it done so you could finally relax without having it constantly hanging in the back of your mind.

you nearly shriek when you hear the sound of your window sliding closed. whipping around with wide eyes, you only find miles tugging off his shoes with a wolfish grin.

“hey, baby. i ain’t mean to scare you, jus’ didn’t want your roommates hearing like last time. you a’ight?” he teases, shedding his jacket next and dropping it by the window. today he’s dressed in a warm crimson sweater that has a black widow on the back (you had gifted it to him on his 17th birthday, and it’s more than well-worn by now) with gray sweats that, even while being covered by his long sweater, definitely hang low on his hips. you would know, since you’ve seen him take them off countless times.

you let out a heavy breath, heartbeat slowly rocking back down to something normal. well—as close to normal as possible. your heart always does weird shit whenever miles is around. “yeah, i’m good. didn’t hear you come in,” you turn back to your desk, glancing over the messy papers with a frown as you try to recall your train of thought. “what time is it?” you question as you tap the end of your pencil against your lower lip, brows furrowed in concentration.

“12:08.” footsteps tread softly over your floors, shortly coming to a stop beside you. you barely spare him a glance as you rifle around for your lost eraser, only to end up accidentally knocking off the completed papers that rested by the edge with your elbow in the midst of your haste.

“fuck!” you yelp, mindful to keep it quiet since it’s late, heart plunging in your chest at the sight. it was such a neat pile, too! fuck!!

the frustration that’s been lowly simmering in your ribcage since the start of the night flares as you watch the papers spill onto the ground, and you feel the embers of your irritation flutter up into your throat, prickling at your eyes.

fuck it, at this point, you think. the tears clumping at your lashline blur the view of your homework, and at this point you just want to throw it all out the window and go to sleep. but alas, your grade could not handle six missing assignments. with a shaky exhale, you toss your head back and dig your palms into your eyes to hold back the onslaught of tears that threaten to break free.

“—riño, you okay? what happened?”

with a jolt, you return to the present after remembering your boyfriend is still in the room with you. lifting the hands from your face, you look down with a huff to find miles kneeling between your slightly spread legs, sweet concern painting his canvas of a face. his right hand is a warm weight on your left knee, thumb rubbing comforting circles into your skin.

you wipe your eyes and take a deep breath, only barely resisting the urge to scream and rip your hair out. “‘m fine, it’s fine. just frustrated—i’ve been working all fucking night on this shit, and now it’s all over the floor.” you drop your hands into your lap and give him a tired smile, guilt gnawing at your heart. “i’m sorry, miles. i would be laying with you in bed by now, but i have to get this done—”

“baby, baby,” he interrupts, a sly grin overcoming the pout he wore moments ago. okay, so he’s not mad. that’s good. “it’s okay,” he chuckles. “i get that you have stuff to do, i don’t mind waiting a while. do you want help?”

you shake your head with a sigh, waving a hand to shoo him away as you lean down to retrieve the fallen papers. one of your tank top straps slip down your shoulder as you bend, and you tease miles in a voice that drips with saccharine when you catch his gaze wandering.

he flips you off and grumbles to himself about the dismissive wave, trotting back over to your bed and flopping down on it face-first. after you stop laughing quietly, you reassure him. “it’s fine, i don’t wanna burden you. i’ll be done in a few hours, so if you wanna stay then make yourself comfortable.”

he scoffs from his place on the bed, and you level him with an unamused expression. he lifts himself up and adjusts so he’s sitting up against the backboard, his hands fiddling together on his stomach. “it’s not a burden. i want to help you, coraźon. and don’t feel guilty about it, either—i love you, and i’m here for you. life shit happens to everybody. but whatever, you got this!!” he throws a bright smile your way and you snort.

“love you, too,” you murmur after a moment, struggling to get the words out even though you’ve both said them many times in the past. twisting back to face your desk, you ignore the way your ears burn and pretend that the tightening in your chest is just a new medical issue you magically picked up. it would definitely never be from his kindness and sincerity, no sir. those accusations from the voices in your mind are extremely baseless.

to distract yourself from all these disgusting emotions, you toss a crumpled paper over your shoulder that probably lands on his face, based off the indignant squawk that escapes him when it lands.

snickering, you reorganize your homework while he begins to quietly scroll on his phone. once everything’s back in place, his presence fades into the background and you lose yourself in your work for… how long? you definitely don’t know. the only apparent things to you right now are your exasperation and yearning for a single day off or maybe just a twelve-hour break, but, surprise! life stops for nobody.

after tackling five more assignments, you’re left with only one more to go. as you start absentmindedly filling out questions, a gentle brush against your left arm knocks you out of your focused headspace. you pause and look up, and the sight that greets you is unbearably cute: miles, sweater falling off one shoulder while his eyes are a little fuzzy with that telltale mist that indicates he must’ve napped a little. you grin. “what’s up, honey?”

oh, shit. your voice comes out in a much lower register than you predict, and you don’t miss the way his pupils dilate a little at that, even in the low lighting. fuck! stay focused, you’re almost done.

he blinks twice. “you almost finished?” drops out his mouth in a mumble as he fixes his sweater. then his gaze sharpens a little. it swivels to the papers you’re currently working on, then to the pile of completed work, and he hums. “it’s late, you should take a break.”

you tilt your head, trying to ignore the wave of exhaustion that nearly makes your body sag at the mention of the timeframe. “how late? i’m almost done.”

miles pulls his phone out. the screen casts a warm glow against his face when it turns on, and he frowns at it, the numbers subtly reflecting in his dark brown pools. “2:51.”

you sigh. “miles, just go to bed without me. i’m literally on the last assignment; i’ll join you in a few minutes.”

his frown deepens. “mi alma, you’ve been working all night. at least take a little break, you need it.”

“there’s 30 questions left, just let me—”

he cuts you off by (gently) grabbing your wrist, tugging you out of your chair, and then tossing you over his shoulder with a haughty sniff in the span of three seconds. you yelp quietly at the movement because you have fucking roommates who are asleep, thumping a fist against his back when he starts spinning in place. “what the fuck are you doing??” you whisper loudly, a giggle creeping into your voice.

“i won’t stop until you say you’ll relax for a little!” he whispers back, picking up some speed. your head begins to spin a little, and you groan feebly in defeat.

“fuck you!! fine, i’ll take a break. goddamn—”

he instantly walks over and drops you on the bed at your compromise, and you bounce a little in the center when you land. he clambers on not even a second later and immediately crowds into your space, pinning his hands on either side of your head and looming a few inches above with a cheeky smile. you realize he has a knee wedged between your own when you try to glance back over to your desk, only to end up distracted as you realize his position and the distinct change in the air. the realization seeps pleasantly into your skin and sparks a fire—a type different from earlier—that begins to burn in the low pit of your belly.

you loop your arms around his neck and pout playfully, just a little. “so eager. what happened to being okay with me having shit to do, hm? you said you’d wait a while.”

he huffs, rolling his eyes. “shut the fuck up. you deserve this break, tesoro. you’ve been working so hard, you need to relax.”

at his praise, the fire flares a little higher, and you muffle a whimper by pulling him down to meet him in an all-encompassing kiss that has him moaning quietly in the back of his throat.

in between kisses, he murmurs “it’s okay, baby. i’ve got you now. i’ll suck you off so good you won’t know anything but my name,” and his voice is in such a deep register that it honestly leaves your knees a little weak and a wet patch forming on your underwear. your stress and worries finally fall to the back of your mind as your mind begins to fog over.

you bite his lower lip gently and he whimpers in turn. “prove it, then,” you hum simply, though the pool in your stomach is now a blazing thing that begs to be stoked by his tender words and soft touches.

he pulls away from your lips and begins to press delicate kisses to your jaw, working his way down your neck and biting lightly when he reaches your pulse point. a hushed groan escapes you before you can stop it, and you feel his incisors shaping around a smile against your skin.

“shut up,” you lightly smack him on the head with an amused huff, and he himself can’t stifle a quiet giggle. “don’t be embarrassed. you know i love to hear you,” he admits, pressing a feather-light kiss over the bite mark.

a warm feeling blossoms in your chest as a wave of affection overtakes you and you gaze lovingly at him as he reaches your collarbone, biting on the wings of both sides as well.

from then on, even though it’s a little humiliating, you do your best to no longer hold back your sounds, although you try to keep them quiet so your roommates don’t wake.

miles only seems to be pleased by this development; when he reaches your chest, he bites hard around your left areola, tearing a barely-stifled cry out of you, before taking the hardened peak into his mouth and swirling his tongue, sucking strongly for a little before pulling off with an obscene pop!

he wastes no time in giving your other nipple the same treatment, and you melt like putty into the sheets as he works his mouth. you lift a limp arm and thread your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly, which only leads him to moan and work more vigorously.

you eventually have to pry miles away from your chest, but he grumbles only a little bit as he slips further down your body to settle between your legs. a pleased smile spreads across his swollen lips when he observes the treat tucked at the apex of your thighs, observes the way your underwear is practically ruined with how much you’ve leaked onto them.

“what’s got you so worked up, hm?” miles says, his breath warm as it ghosts across where you’ve been aching for the past fifteen minutes.

your words nearly come out as a growl, if not for the petulant whine that tacks itself on to the end. “don’t tease. you said you were going to help me relax.” he raises a brow, smile turning roguish. “i did, but i never said when.”

you nearly kick him in the back for that, but then his large palms are tugging at your underwear and shoving them down your legs (they end up flying across the room and landing somewhere, but you’ll discover that in the morning), barely giving you a moment of respite before they land on the underside of your thighs to toss them over his shoulders.

you watch him peck a kiss to the area right above where you need him the most, and groan from the drawn-out teasing. “put your mouth to fucking use,” you bark, tangling your hand in his hair again and pulling. he whines, high in his throat, and you scoff.

“so bossy,” he has the nerve to say and you almost shove him down yourself. but then he finally, finally lowers himself and you breathe a sigh of relief at the brush of his nose against your sensitive flesh. but then, he stops. “hey, mi amor?”

you pout down at him, actual tears of frustration starting to build behind your eyes, and he shakes his head fondly. “i won’t leave you like this, i promise. i just want you to know,”

he closes his eyes and noses against your sensitive area, dropping another kiss except in the right spot this time. you jolt at the sensation, and miles cracks an eye open, peering up at you. “i love you.”

he presses another kiss, a little harder. “i love you, i love you. you’re so strong, and beautiful. you’re mine.”

tears actually do manage to break free this time, but not from any negative emotion. he does this a few more times as tears slowly trickle down your cheeks, so full of love for this man that it hurts sometimes.

he only stops whispering the mantra when he fully takes you in his mouth, and you choke on a gasp while your hand twists more firmly in his hair. he doesn’t hesitate to start with an unforgiving pace, tongue dancing as he slurps and sucks like he’s a starving man and you’re his last meal.

your moans ratchet up in volume, and you just give up on trying to control volume. miles whines and whimpers and groans when he starts to rut against the bed, desperate for friction, and the vibrations of it make you shiver and jolt.

the fire that resides in your belly has grown to be an inferno now; even his dutiful attention can no longer quench your desires. with every lick and suck, you feel something coiling tighter in your abdomen, and your grasp on miles’ hair grows a little stronger as you begin to press him down deeper, making him take you in further.

he gasps and groans as you start to fuck his face, your own sounds syncing with his in the quiet of your room. “m-miles,” you whimper, head swimming with pleasure.

he pulls off long enough to grunt your name in return, only for him to dive right back down and get back to work. you whine, the coil in your belly about to snap. “i’m cl—ose,” your voice cracks sharply in the middle when miles whimpers and sucks hard, and then you’re being hurled over the edge.

an animalistic noise rips from your throat as your orgasm tears through you like a lighting strike; you arch off the bed as your vision goes blurry and then white, pleasure soaring through you unlike anything you’ve ever known. a little while later, you come back to yourself panting on the sheets in a daze, miles pressing one last soft kiss to your abdomen before pulling away when you twitch with sensitivity. he’s also breathing raggedly, and you blink away the spots in your eyes to look down at his own lower half.

his cock is mostly soft and hanging limp between his thighs, cum still leaking from the tip. your gaze trails downward to your sheets and find a mess there, probably even worse than the one you made—he came a lot. just from serving you and humping against the bed. you’re a little too stunned from coming so hard to describe how hot it is, but holy fuck.

it takes you a minute, but you manage to twist onto your side to snatch up a few tissues from your bedside table that you hand to your boyfriend. he offers you a sheepish grin and you smile dopily back in response, leaning down to clean up the mess you both made.

after everything is discarded and you’re both cleaned up, words have returned to you and you lay bare with miles plastered to you: his head rests on your chest while your legs tangle together, and he drools a small puddle onto you in his sleep. he has an arm slung lazily over your stomach, and one of your own rubs soothingly down his back. your other arm has a hand gently playing with his hair, and you sigh fondly down at him. the assignment could wait for tomorrow morning, even if you’d have to rush—spending time with miles is more motivating than anything else, anyways.

translations ⋆⑅˚₊ cariño – honey ; coreźon – heart ; mi alma – my soul ; tesoro – treasure ; mi amor – my love

2023 NE0NPEACHEZ.

[ghoultrifle]

Phantom is trying to do maths because he wants to be the smartest ghoul like Aether. Swiss comes over and asks what he’s doing. Phantom starts explaining subspace (maths version), to which Swiss responds they should explore the good kind of subspace instead

Jimothy once again pulling through as my favourite maths nerd, everyone else please enjoy learning about subspaces <3 This was so much fun to write but i am incredibly impatient so this has not been proofread and will not be my best work, sorry not sorry! I kinda forgot about the whole subspace thing halfway through but I do not have the energy to go back soooo

Swiss is trans because I said so! cunt, clit, dick, cock used.

Phantom was laying on his bed, stomach on the mattress as he kicked his legs in the air, twirling an eraser pensively in his hands. His mouth was occupied with the tip of his pencil, gnawing on the bitter wood, his free hand supporting the weight of his chin. Shoulder-length locks kept falling, clouding his vision. He didn’t care, he was fed up of learning about subspaces.

“Why do I care if U is a subspace of V? And why do I need to keep proving it?” He pouted, only himself to hear the complaints in the now dim light of his room, the midday sun now sinking below the horizon.

Phantom was rubbing out the workings for the latest attempt at the question, he kept making silly mistakes: misreading the question or forgetting how to do simple maths.

“Stupid fucking ghoul, you’ll never be as smart as Aether, just face it!” The quintessence ghoul cried out to the void. But the void replied…

The young ghoul’s door opened, it was Swiss. “What’s wrong, Baby Bat?” He questioned, frowning at Phantom.

“Can’t do this fucking work. Every time I think I’m getting somewhere, something else goes wrong! What’s wrong with me, Swiss?”

“Oh hey, it’s alright, Bug. Nothing’s wrong with you. Looks like you’ve been here all day, you’re probably just in your own head.” Swiss patted Phantom on the back, alternating between pressure and smooth strokes. “What’re you trying to do anyway? Are chores not enough for you?”

“‘m learning about subspaces!” Phantom replied, a passion reignited in his voice.

“Learning about what?!” If Swiss had a drink he would have comically spat it out all over the ghoul next to him.

“Yeah, I enrolled in an online maths course ‘cause I wanted to be smart like Aether and Omega. This week’s work is all about subspaces. A subspace is a subset of a vector space that is itself a vector space but also satisfies the three subspace criteria.” Phantom ranted. Swiss was too entranced in the energy of the younger ghoul to stop him.

“The first criterion is that the subset can’t be empty, the second cri –” The multi ghoul was pulled out of his trance as a fiendish idea swirled around his mind, hands roughly grabbing Phantom’s cheeks as he kissed him hard - anything to shut the other ghoul up.

Swiss pulled away, taking in Phantom’s look of awe, “Sorry Tommy, maths is a sore spot for me, can’t listen to it.” He apologised.

“How about we explore the good kind of subspace instead, hmm?” The older ghoul asked, gently coaxing Phantom to sit up as he swiped the ghoul’s hard work off the bed, landing crumpled on the floor. That was a problem for future them.

“Oh okay but I really do need to finish that work,” Phantom replied, worriedly gazing at his hours of effort lying on the floor, Swiss’ calloused thumb rubbing his shoulder.

“Hmm Baby, it’s worse than I thought. You really do need to get fucked dumb,” the multi ghoul cooed. His brown eyes raked over the almost shaking ghoul beside him. Swiss would be lying if he said he didn’t have a thing for smart guys; there’s a reason he and Aether always shared a hotel room on tour. But he could also tell when someone just needed to be reminded how stupid they are, pliant under his touch and unable to form a coherent thought.

Through many a session with Aether, the multi ghoul had honed his quintessence, now at the ability of a teenage ghoul, and a horny one at that. “I’m gonna use a bit of magick, alright? Can you remember your safe actions?” Swiss asked in a loving tone, like honey lined his vocal cords, his words coating Phantom in a sickly sweet embrace.

“Mhm Sir, pickle or three leg taps if I can’t speak.”

Swiss shuddered at the honorific, seems Phantom wouldn’t need much help dropping today, his control already slipping at the mere suggestion of a scene.

“Good boy. Now let’s talk about our subspace criteria. First rule, a sub’s head must be empty.”

The older ghoul extended his fingertips to Phantom’s now-bare chest. Quintessence oozing from his digits, reaching in, shoving all the work on Phantom’s metaphorical desk onto the floor, leaving the ghoul devoid of thoughts.

“How are you feeling, my precious?” 

Phantom could only stare at him through lidded eyes, mouth agape as he attempted a nod. Swiss knew the answer to his rhetorical question, however. Phantom’s trousers were tented, the ghoul shifting where he was sat in an attempt to get some friction on his filled out cock.

Every movement was primal, a base instinct not tied down by societal rules. In any other scenario Phantom would be horrified at the blush working its way across his cheeks, unable to hide it with his leaden arms. Right now though, he isn’t even aware of his body’s reaction to the touch.

“Oh such a slut for me, aren’t you? Can’t even tell me how good you’re feeling. How hard you are in those tight little pants. Already leaking and I haven’t even told you the rest of the rules.” Swiss teased.

The quintessence ghoul’s blush only grew a deeper purple, contrasting his mottled skin. His head was vacant, half-formed thoughts fleeting by at incredible speeds, long disappeared over the horizon by the time he tried to acknowledge them.

“Second rule, a sub must be obedient,” a flustered Swiss declared, thinking on his feet now. He wanted to commit to the bit but didn’t think he’d get Phantom on board. “Do you think you can be a good boy for me?” he asked, knowing the words would get his dumb toy’s dick leaking as he cradled the smaller ghoul’s face, his hand easily reaching both ears.

As promised an almost imperceptible damp spot started to form on Phantom’s tight, dark pants, outlining the head of his cock. It was begging for release, sensitive and oh so hard. The quintessence ghoul fluttered his eyelids at the other, his way of saying Yes Daddy, I’ll be such a good boy for you.

Swiss was equally as affected, his clit rock solid while his cunt was creating a very sticky problem in Swiss’ boxers. But tonight wasn’t about him, it was about helping Phantom let go in every way possible. So he continued to let the wet patch grow as he recited the third rule.

“The third rule for a sub to be just perfect is for them to float away. Let me take care of you, bug.”

As Swiss was quoting the rule he reached down to unzip Phantom’s trousers, giving his weeping cock a few quick strokes through the red boxers, no doubt borrowed from Dewdrop. Phantom had just enough of a hold on reality to let out a choked moan as Swiss finally touched him. A small whimper came out when the multi ghoul removed his hand.

Swiss wasn’t a ghoul known for his patience, and that extended to the bedroom. It didn’t take long for him to decide that tonight Phantom would have to get off while pleasuring the multi ghoul because he’ll be damned if the new summon doesn’t have the hottest mouth. Of course the award for physically hottest mouth went to Dewdrop but Phantom’s soft, plump lips and limber tongue won the award for most pleasurable.

Swiss unbuckled his belt as he slid off his bottoms in one smooth motion, only tripping as the fabric got stuck around his ankle. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t like the dazed ghoul on the bed could react in any way, still heavily under the influence of Swiss’ quintessence.

The multi ghoul stood there, dick jutting out between his folds. He always described himself as an outie, and he was proud of it. Phantom seemed even prouder, drool spilling from his lips as he watched Swiss give himself a few tugs before swiping at himself and giving it a taste.

“Like what you see, hmm?” Swiss mocked, reaching out to Phantom’s chest again to partially release him from the throes of his magick. “Well how about you show Daddy a good time then, baby bat.”

And with that Swiss was pushing down on Phantom’s ribs, forcing the younger ghoul onto his back as he straddled his midriff, trapping Phantom’s leaking cock beneath him.

“Ah Swiss, feels so mmm good.” The quintessence ghoul whined, in control of his voice once again.

“Oh, bug, toys don’t talk.” Swiss frowned, trying his best not to let his excitement show. He agonisingly inched his way up Phantom’s body, leaving a trail of slick behind him before his cunt arrived at those delicate lips. “Let’s put that mouth to good use instead, my love.”

Swiss lowered himself gently onto Phantom’s face letting the younger ghoul lick exploratively before sliding his tongue deep inside the multi ghoul. “Eat up,” he smirked.

And Phantom did. Anything to be a good boy, the promise of a reward implicit with Swiss. He could be mean but he’d never leave a lover unsatisfied. So Phantom ate Swiss out like his life depended on it. By the way his cock was kicking, leaking pre over his happy trail, it really felt like his life did depend on it.

The skilled tongue laved against Swiss’ walls, a heady mix of spit and slick coating his insides. Phantom’s tongue occasionally departing to give kitten licks to his clit before sucking the bud whole, hollowing his cheeks to show the multi ghoul just how big he was. It didn’t go unnoticed.

“Unholy fuck Ant, forgot how good your tongue was.” Swiss pleaded, any attempt at keeping a stern demeanour now in the past.

Even with his mouth occupied, Phantom was far from quiet. He was attempting to set a ministry record in getting Swiss off, and he knew exactly what buttons to push. A little ah here mixed in with breathy moan there and Swiss was coming apart, quickly. The multi ghoul loved an expressive partner, his already large ego inflated any time someone moaned.

Phantom was beginning to flag, limbs still heavy under Swiss’ spell and tongue beginning to tire from its intense workout. The larger ghoul took pity on the whimpering ghoul, handing him a pillow from the top of the bed. It was encased in a grey cover and it was firm, Phantom needed a lot of neck support when asleep. 

Swiss craned his neck behind him to see he didn’t even need to tell the younger ghoul what to do with it, the pillow already shoved deep between his thighs as he spared all his extra energy into rocking into it.

“Fuck Phantom, such a good boy for me,” Swiss encouraged “humping that pillow so well. Bet you wish it was me sinking onto you, clenching around that lovely cock of yours as I use you.”

Both ghouls were getting close; Swiss at the sight of his partner desperately humping a pillow, and Phantom at the friction said pillow was providing. The case was covered in streaks of pre, getting more wet with each thrust of the quintessence ghoul’s ruddy cock, only spurring him on as the shame hit.

Phantom was a ghoul that got off primarily on shame. Something about doing these sinful acts with his packmates left him hard like nothing else. He learned all these rules during his summoning about how humans are supposed to act, it was ingrained in him by Papa. So now when he does anything outside the norm he feels that hot shame coursing through him, straight to his dick.

Phantom’s hips were canting up rapidly to the soft fabric of the pillow case, now a dark grey. He was unable to do anything but moan against Swiss’ folds, and hope the larger ghoul was as close as he was.

His skilled lips were assaulting Swiss’ cock, doing his best to give Swiss the best blowjob of his life as the multi ghoul’s slick ran down his chin. The t-dick was engorged as Phantom sucked and swirled his tongue around the growth. All it took was a well timed breath from Phantom, hot air engulfing his cunt as the smaller ghoul emptied his lungs. 

The sensation had Swiss cumming with a yell, Phantom quick to resume his efforts on his clit as Swiss rode out his orgasm.

“Satanas, bug, I should dumb you down more often, that was incredible.” Swiss praised as he wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. Looking down he could see the mess he made of Phantom’s face, shining, covered in his release.

Phantom was smiling back at the older ghoul, proud of his work but desperately hard and teetering on the edge. The pillow was great but he just needed more. 

“Oh were you hoping I was going to get you off?” The multi ghoul chimed, “Think again, bug. Need you to hump it like you do when you’re alone. And don’t pretend you don’t, Rain told me everything.”

His hips bucked harder at the request, humiliation setting in. “Can I move, Daddy?” he asked tentatively.

“The stage is yours, darling.” Swiss replied as he blew the ghoul a kiss, already feeling a puddle of slick forming beneath him.

The quintessence long worn off by now as the new summon manoeuvred himself onto all fours, adding the pillow to a stack between his thighs before he started thrusting his cock into the pile. Each cant left him panting and whining for more.

“Look at my little toy, getting off on a pillow like a good boy.” 

Phantom keened at the praise, spurring him on. His full body weight was on the stack of pillows now, his cock sliding easily into the creases of the fabric as his hips moved, no longer a conscious motion. He just needed to cum, soon.

It was just the wrong side of enough stimulation but he was determined to make it work, to be a good boy for Swiss.

The next time Phantom looked up, Swiss was tugging himself between his thumb and forefinger, moaning at the sight before him. That was enough to push the quintessence ghoul over the edge. He grabbed his cock harshly, no longer caring about the implicit ‘no touching’ rule that sessions with Swiss involve. As he stroked his shaft the pillow beneath him was painted a delicious white, Phantom’s head thrown back as he whined.

He knelt on the bed as he came down from his high, marvelling at the art he produced. Looking over at Swiss, he was shaking his head, a frown adorning his usually joyous face.

“Good toys don’t touch themselves.” He tutted, “Do it again.”

Phantom sighed, gripping his soft cock as he tried to coax it to life once more. The only saving grace being the whorish ghoul touching himself beside him. They were going to be here a while, Phantom definitely wouldn’t be finishing his homework tonight.

[becca-alexa]

Ride the Lightning

Chapter Ten: Come On and Dance

Read on AO3!

01 ┋ 02 ┋ 03 ┋ 04 ┋ 05 ┋ 06 ┋ 07 ┋ 08 ┋ 09 ┋ 10 ┋ 11 ┋ 12 ┋ 13

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Original Female Character

Summary: What will happen when Veronica invites Eddie to the dance?

Word Count: 5.4K

Content Warnings: [N/A]

Author's Note: i cannot believe this chapter is so long it's the longest one so far but SO MUCH is happening i didn't want to split it up -- plus i feel like all the other chapters have been short so it's nice to write something longer

and a big ol' hug and many many kisses to @rollforhellfire for literally being the trooper of the century with this and everything else i love and appreciate you friend and am sending every immaculate vibe in the universe your way 💗💗💗💗💗

    Silence.

    For once, the Munson trailer was infinitely quiet; not even the soft, droning hum of the bathroom fan was enough to break through the lingering monotony.

    The aging hunk of metal groaned and griped as it was hammered by the sudden winds of the thunderstorm raging outside; the muted, rhythmic pelting of rain against the aluminum roof went unnoticed by the pair seated at the yellowed kitchen counter. 

    Veronica had lost count of how many glances she'd stolen of Eddie, of how many times she'd turned her head, her mind a jumbled knot of questions as she watched him diligently work through his assignment, tongue poking through between tight lips as he scratched at his chin with the butt of his pencil - her pencil, but that was beside the point. Her gaze trailed over his face, over the gentle roll of his cheeks, the sweep of his lashes over chocolate-brown eyes - and the longer she stared, the more her resolve bled away like grains of sand along a breaking shore. So lost was she in her spiraling thoughts, she hadn't realized that Eddie had stopped writing.

    "There somethin' on my face, sweetheart?" he asked, his smile soft and easy - too easy, a stinging taunt to her frayed nerves. She pulled back, the forest of her eyes clear and bright - bare, at least by the way he was watching her, waiting for her answer.

    Veronica shook her head, ducking away to hide the burning flush scalding up the column of her neck, rising to color the tips of her ears. "No, it's… it's nothing, sorry." She turned back to her own neglected work, scribbling whatever she could think of onto the page, desperate to throw him off her scent, the trembling of her hands belying her every attempt.

    It's just Munson, Veronica reminded herself, tugging at her braids to avoid the questioning look she knew he was giving her.

    Eddie leaned forward, head pressed against his folded arms, and he nudged his way toward her, into the bubble of her personal space. "C'mon, Windsor. Talk to me." He poked at her arm with his elbow until he'd pulled a smile from her - although small, it was enough to make his chest flutter. "What's goin' on in there?"

    She looked at him, her uncertainty clear on her face - and he was getting nervous for her, brows knitting together, his face dropping into a frown. "Veronica-"

    "Are you going to the Fling this Friday?"

    And Eddie gaped at her, his mind racing, struggling, desperate to try and make sense of what she'd asked - since when did Eddie J. Munson ever go to school dances? He shook his head, even laughed a bit in disbelief. "I wasn't planning to," he'd answered - why did she care to know if he was going? God, just the thought of being there, watching her dance with someone else, a stranger's arms holding her close- "Why'd you ask?"

    ""S a dumb question, just forget it." she mumbled, and he'd felt sharp barbs of pain embed themselves in his chest at the way she'd deflated at his response.

    "What was dumb about it?" He leaned in close to her, eyes wide, darting between her own, her silence gnawing away at him - should he not have said that? Had he been too blunt with her? "Hey, don't get all quiet on me," With but a moment's hesitation, his hand trailed over hers, his touch soft, poking at the tips of her fingers - a bold move, even for him. "What was dumb about your question?"

    "Nothing, I…" She let out a heavy sigh, her gaze falling to her paper. "I was just curious."

    Eddie gave her a hard look, his hand closing over hers, pressing, squeezing. "You're a shit liar, y'know."

    "I'm not lying." Her sights narrowed, her mouth falling into a frown, and she pulled her hand away, fists clenched white atop her lap. "I'm not."

    He rolled his eyes, shook his head, frizzy hair moving about his shoulders. "What's that thing El always says? Friends don't lie?"

    "Munson, I'm not lying!"

    "You're lying by omission." He'd finally caught her; she sunk into her seat, arms folding atop her chest as she stared at a chipped edge at the far end of the counter. "Same thing."

    It took her more than a few moments to respond, to gather her courage, collect her thoughts as to form something even semi-coherent. "It's just… I was hoping that… that you'd come with me." As she picked at her nail in distraction, she missed the way his mouth had fallen open, the crimson heat shooting its way upwards over his face nearly fluorescent in color. His palms began to sweat, his legs shaking, and he had to force himself to stay focused on her words. "I don't want to go by myself."

    "Veronica, I…" It was all he'd managed to say, his words pressed - stuck - as his traitorous voice all but abandoned him.

    She shook her head. "I-It's fine, though… I'll just ask Steve-"

    "Hold on - let's not do anything drastic," Despite the fact that the man had arguably - certainly, obviously - become his closest friend, there was no way on God's green Earth he was letting her go to what would surely be the biggest social event of the academic year with Steve Harrington. "I never said I wouldn't go."

    "But, you-"

    "I said I wasn't planning on going - not that I wouldn't." He moved his chair closer to her, giving her arm another nudge. "Guess I'll have to go to one of these things eventually, right?"

    At the way she beamed, at how her chest filled with relief, her cheeks bright, eyes gleaming, Eddie nearly felt the need to squint against her blinding radiance as one does with the sun. "You would do that for me?" Her voice was quiet, hesitant, as though she hadn't - couldn't have - believed what he'd said. He nodded, adjusting himself in his seat.

    "Yeah, why not?" He leaned back, folded his arms behind his heated neck. "Guess it wouldn't kill me to go to one dance."

    Veronica nodded at his answer, pen in hand as she turned back to her assignment. "Okay," she'd answered in a quiet - meek - voice, but Eddie could hear the happiness behind her words, see her giddy anticipation in the way she swung her feet underneath the counter. "Okay, yeah, that's… that's good. Great…!." He shook his head and let out a chuckle, finding his pencil once more.

    "Perfect - now could you help me with this?" He slid his page close to her - a believable excuse for wanting to be near her, to look over what she was sure to write in the margins. "I've been staring at this thing for, like, fifteen minutes and I still can't figure out what the Hell a prepositional phrase is."

    "C'mon, Stevie - you're my only hope."

    Eddie leaned bodily against the counter at Family Video, hands clasped together as he pleaded with Steve to help him - he certainly wasn't above begging when the situation demanded it, his own pride be damned.

    And, Hell - if this didn't warrant a bit of groveling, what did?

    "Only hope for what?" Robin's voice rang out; she walked from the employee office toward the front of the store with a heavy box of returned videos clutched in her arms. "Which universe are you saving this time, Steve?"

    The man rolled his eyes, but he bit at the inside of his cheek to keep his smile in check. "He needs a suit."

    "For what, a funeral?"

    Steve graciously took the box from her, already moving about the racks to return them to their places. From behind a rather risqué cardboard display of Brooke Shields, he called out, "Eddie's taking Veronica to the Spring Fling on Friday."

    "You are not!" Robin gaped in disbelief, her voice rising two whole octaves with  mounting excitement, fingers splaying wide as her hands slammed onto the counter. "You asked her out?"

    "She asked me." the metalhead hastily clarified, already tugging at the ends of his hair to try and quell his nerves at actually having agreed to it. "And it's not a date!" At Robin's deadpan look, he continued, "She doesn't want to go by herself, so she asked me to tag along."

    "Sounds like a date to me, man." Steve chimed in, his answer doing nothing for the butterflies soaring through Eddie's stomach, fluttering up into his chest, wings beating in time to the pounding of his heart. Had Veronica meant it as a date?

    "It's not. I'm just her… escort."

    "Sounds dirty."

    "Oh, really?" Eddie crossed his arms atop his chest, leather stretched tight over his shoulders as he leaned away from the counter to better look at Robin, his eyes narrowed in offended annoyance. "Do tell, and what progress have you made with Vickie?"

    He barked out a laugh at the way she flushed a girlish pink, grumbling as she moved away from him, practically shoving Steve out from behind the display as she took his place among the cassette boxes.

    "Come by the house later, I think I got a few things that'll fit you." Steve said, popping open his typical box of Thin Mints. "You know what she's wearin'?"

    Eddie gave the man a blank look. "Uh… A dress?"

    "The color, dingus!" Robin shouted, still hidden behind the tapes.

    "Shit- I should know that, shouldn't I?" He paled, the sight of him so upended amusing to Steve in a perverse, gloating sort of way - they'd always poked fun at him whenever he was nervous for his dates. "A dude's supposed to match his girl, right?"

    His girl?

    Since when was Veronica his girl?

    And Robin was quick to respond, "So it is a date-"

    "It's not a date!" Eddie hadn't meant to raise his voice, but having his heart on the table was rough enough without Robin's merciless teasing. Steve rounded the counter, a sympathetic, gentle sort of look on his face as he patted Eddie on the shoulder - it was a look Eddie's seen him give the kids countless times, pulling it out whenever they needed a bit of comforting. Turning them away from Robin's general direction, he asked,

    "You want me to call her?" Steve kept his voice quiet, calming, just as Eddie needed something to ground him from his terrifying freefall. He nodded, blushing to the roots of his hair, suddenly too warm in his jacket as he watched Steve move back behind the counter, dialing the number he'd already ascribed to memory - carved into his heart would've been better-fitting, but who's to say?

    Eddie floated around the front desk, moving about anxiously, tugging at his fingers as he tried to pick up pieces of Steve's conversation with Veronica - the man had given quite the believable story, that Robin had struck out with Vickie and had asked him to be her date instead, and that he wanted to know what she'd be wearing so that they didn't accidentally show up in the same thing. A smart lie, smooth, practiced. And when he hung up, the sound of the phone hitting the plastic receiver made Eddie yelp, his hands flying up to his chest.

    "W-What'd she say?" he managed to ask, his voice cracking - why he was so nervous to find out about a color, he'd never know.

    "Lilac."

    "Lilac?"

    "It's like a baby purple. Cute choice, it'll go great with her eyes-"

    "I know what lilac is, Buckley, thank you." Eddie groaned, dragging his hands down his tired face. "I need a tie, right? Does the rental place have those?"

    "They do-" Steve started, only to be distracted by the sound of the door ringing - a customer had finally walked into the store, their first one in hours. Steve gave Robin a look, and the girl quickly scurried to help them find the movie they'd been searching for - something with Julia Roberts. Steve turned back toward Eddie, his voice almost at a whisper as he continued, "Just give my name and they'll give you a discount. You'll probably have to buy the tie, though - they only do rentals if you get the whole set."

    Eddie nodded, trying to retain this otherwise alien information: give Steve's name, get a discount, buy the tie.

    To his chagrin, Steve continued, "Look, man… Will you be alright?"

    Eddie's head snapped up to look at him, finding again that warm, gentle look - and it stung, how unconvincing of an answer he gave in return.

    "I… I don't know." He let out a quiet sigh, lip caught between his teeth as his gaze grew distant, his errant mind already beginning to drift. "I know it won't mean anything, but… Christ, I wish it did-"

    "You don't know that-"

    "Oh, please." Eddie scoffed, rolling his eyes, digging deep into himself to dredge up old, familiar insecurities. "Like she'd ever ask me out. She just didn't want to go alone."

    "Yeah, but she asked you." Steve pointed out, and his words planted a seed of hope somewhere in the depths of Eddie's blackened heart. "That's gotta mean something, right?"

    "She planned to ask you next."

    "Still asked you first, though."

    The metalhead nodded, thanked his friend yet again for the help, clinging to his words like a lifeline as he climbed into his van. His hands were tight around the steering wheel, leg bouncing, and he couldn't help the grin stretching across his lips, a blooming heat taking root inside his chest at having finally been somebody's first choice.

    Eddie was pacing.

    He'd arrived at Veronica's house a whole thirty minutes before the time they'd agreed upon; having driven up her street, he sat in silence, hands clung painfully to his steering wheel as he tried to calm the haphazard drumming of his heart. He was cold, he was sweltering, he felt giddy, frightened, nauseous- With a defeated sigh, he pulled himself from the safety of his van, and he wiped the sweat from his palms against the smart black suit pants Steve had lent him, all while his pulse continued to somersault, light-headed as he'd finally gathered the courage to ring her doorbell.

    Lorraine had been the one to answer, dressed in yet another floof-trimmed robe - a vibrant lime-green this time, reaching down nearly to the floor, her hair pulled together with a shocking red scarf. "Eddie? Glad to see you!" she exclaimed, pulling the nervous man in close, kissing both his cheeks. "You lookin' for Roni? Oh, don't you look gorgeous!"

    The suit had fit him better than expected, the dress shirt he'd borrowed from his uncle still crisp and white; the tie itself had given him little issue, but he'd agonized over the shade with the rental store clerk for hours. His hair was pulled back, away from his shoulders and knotted at the base of his neck - and Eddie floundered under her praise, face bursting red as he pressed a hand to the back of his head, his smile bashful as he replied, "Thank you, ma'am-"

    "Mom?" Veronica's voice filtered down from the staircase, and the pair turned toward it - Lorraine, with a smile, and Eddie with his stomach plummeting to his feet. "Is that Eddie?"

    "Yeah - and you're keeping him waitin', babe!" Lorraine shouted back, hands at her waist as she turned back toward the young man sweating bullets at her front door. "I swear, she's never been so picky with her hair before… Took me hours to get it the way she wanted-"

    "I'll be right down…!" Veronica called; they could hear her moving about upstairs, the distant clack, clack, clacking of her heels echoing off the hardwood floors - and it was all Eddie could do to keep from collapsing into a full-blown panic, the blood draining from his face as though he'd opened a tap.

    It's just Veronica. It's just Veronica. It's just-

    Eddie swore his aching heart must've burst through his chest at the sight of Veronica descending the staircase - a princess, a goddess, a literal vision in… well, lilac.

    The dress hung from her shoulders in the most delicately-arranged layers of tulle he'd ever seen, the light seeming to shimmer between the frills and gathers; it was form-fitting around her waist, gathered together with a large, silken bow. Her hair - ebony waves that seemed to flow in an endless cascade down her back - was pulled behind her, held in place with a bow matching the one on her dress. Her makeup, although applied sparingly, only made her all the more radiant.

    Robin had been right - the color seemed to make her eyes glow as they landed on him; Eddie swore he saw the faintest of blushes grace her cheeks, and the smile she gave as she reached the final rung of steps nearly sent him to his knees.

    "Hi." Veronica was the first to speak, her voice… breathless as she stood before him, taking in the full breadth of his outfit.

    "Christ, you're an angel." Eddie's mouth - his stupid, stupid mouth - had spilled forth the words before he could even think to stop himself, and he nearly dissolved into a puddle as Veronica's blush deepened, her smile turning shy as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

    "Oh, aren't you two just adorable!" The moment was torn asunder by the sharp flashing of a camera, Veronica sent staggering back a step from the blinding light, Eddie's hand shooting out to keep her upright and steady.

    "Mom…!" she'd hissed, a glowing warmth washing over her at the feeling of Eddie's hand at her back, solid and firm, her stomach in knots as Lorraine pushed the two closer together.

    "One more picture…!" the woman exclaimed, and the pair just barely managed to smile before the shot was taken. "Oh, your first high school dance! And you both look so beautiful…!"

    "Mom… Mom, we're gonna be late-" Grabbing Eddie - and wholly oblivious to the way he was having an existential crisis over the sudden realization that they were holding hands - she'd managed to pull him to the door before Lorraine took another picture.

    "Alright, alright, go! Have fun!" the woman said, her send-off loud and cheerful as she waved at them from the open door, her robe billowing in the cool evening breeze. "And if you'll be home late, call me!"

    Eddie helped Veronica into his van, his hand tingling all the while as he moved back to the driver's side, pulling himself inside before slamming the door shut.

    "Ready, sweetheart?" he asked, his smile lopsided, yet sincere all the same, and Veronica nodded, the stars hung in her eyes as she looked at him - and Eddie was more than happy to pretend that they were shining just for him.

    To say that their entrance into the Hawkins High gymnasium caused quite the stir was a monumental understatement; Veronica looked like a dream, walking on clouds as she beamed at the metalhead beside her, pulling the eye of every man in the room and the silent, seething ire of their partners. Eddie looked every bit the gentleman no one believed he could be - handsome, put together, mature, and with Veronica clinging to his arm, they were officially the couple for the evening.

    They stuck to each other, neither willing - wanting - to be apart for very long. They had arrived early, the dancing reserved only for later in the night, so they stood near the punch bowl, Eddie having gotten them both something to drink.

    It had barely been fifteen minutes since they'd arrived; thinking back, they were surprised they hadn't heard anything sooner - the rumors, the gossip, the scathing lies meant to tear and quarter them both. With their backs against a wall of stacked bleachers, the voices filtering through the seats reached them loud and painfully clear.

    "Can you believe he's here?" One voice hissed.

    "I swear to God, he's going to ruin our night." Another added, mocking and cruel.

    "Who're you talking about?" A third chimed in.

    "Who else? The freak."

    Veronica felt a heated, vermillion anger begin to rise within her, the plastic cup clutched in her hand cracking from the force of her grip as she continued to listen to the unwelcome conversation.

    "Did you see his date?"

    "She’s that whiz kid, ain’t she? Veronica, I think. What's he doing with her?"

    "You think he bribed her or somethin’?"

    "I bet he threatened her with his demon shit! Probably scared her into coming, honestly."

    Her breathing quickened, growing shallow with unabashed rage - they couldn't have been more wrong.

    "God, why is he even here?"

    "I wish he'd just leave - he's ruining our dance."

    "Least he could do is spike the punch…"

    She slammed her cup against the table, her fist trembling as she'd had enough - enough of their horrid taunts, of their snide comments. "Eddie-"

    Turning to look at him, Veronica felt her heart crumble and shatter - his head was hung low, his sights lost somewhere in the depths of his half-empty cup, his eyes rimmed pink from the force he'd been expending to keep his tears at bay. His shoulders were hunched forward, the hand holding his drink pressed tightly to his chest. She caught sight of the faintest quiver of his lip, of the way he’d taken a sharp inhale through his nose, cleared his throat.

    He just looked so… small.

    "Eddie…?" Veronica took a step toward him, her hand gentle as she slipped it into his, her thumb brushing circles over his flushed skin. He finally looked at her, the apples of his face flushed; she noticed in an instant that his smile, tight as it was, didn't reach his eyes. It chilled her, and she wanted nothing more than to make it disappear.

    She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back - weaker, but it was better than nothing. "Hey, sweetheart." he croaked, his throat already tight, his voice hoarse and cracking with emotion.

    Veronica let out a sigh, her lush eyes clear as they bore into him. "Eddie, do you want to leave?"

    He was quick to shake his head. "N-No, you… You were so excited to come-" His stammered excuse lasted longer than it should have - to her, he shouldn't have bothered making an excuse at all. Still, she let him ramble, still holding his hand, grounding him, settling his scrambled nerves as he scrubbed the heel of his hand over his forehead. "Let's just stay, alright? I-I don't mind-"

    "Eddie." Her voice cut cleanly through his, and his breathing all but stopped as she took yet another step toward him, their arms pressing together. "Forget this. Forget the dance," she told him, her tone serious. "Do you want to leave?"

    She watched as his gaze fell to the floor between them, his lip gnawed between his teeth as he nodded ever so slightly, his brows drawn together, face aflame with undeserved embarrassment as she led him out of the room, unaware of the eyes trailing their hastened escape…

    It was too early to go home, they'd decided, the night still too young and pleasantly warm to end so abruptly; for lack of a better place, Eddie had driven them to Sattler Quarry, parking the van near the cliff's edge as to look out onto the abyss, the moon's reflection bright and gleaming off the still water.

    They sat together, silent as neither were sure of what to say, of what needed to be said. Eddie anxiously twisted at his rings, hair falling loose and free about his shoulders - he'd pulled it from its knot the moment he’d climbed into his van after leaving the dance.

    "Why do you let them talk about you like that?" Veronica's voice was soft, quiet, but it settled in his stomach like leaden weights - he knew she'd be looking for answers. "I've heard the rumors, Eds-"

    Eddie shook his head, and he dragged a hand over his face before turning to look at her, the faintest hint of red still tinting his eyes. "I know, it's just… I'd rather them talk about me than the others, y'know? Dustin, Mike, Lucas… shit, even the older ones." His shoulders dropped, head falling against the open door of the van as he stared into the hands threaded atop his lap. "I can handle a few rumors - I'm used to it. But, they don't need to be goin' through this shit. If the entirety of Hawkins High dragging me through the mud means they all make it out of that Hellhole alive, then… then I'll take it. I don't care."

    At that moment, Veronica wanted nothing more than to pull him into her arms, to comfort him, to hold him - how long had this been going on that he'd gotten used to it? It often slipped her mind that she'd only moved to Hawkins at the start of the school year; already so entrenched there, it felt as though she'd lived there all her life - and it was at moments like this where she was bitterly reminded that she didn't know much of anything. Pushing down the mounting urge, she conceded with sliding her hand over his, warm over cold, smooth over rough.

    "That's very… noble of you." she replied, unable to think of another word befitting him - it was noble that he'd been willing to throw himself to the wolves for his friends without a moment's hesitation.

    Eddie stared at their hands, the tightness in his chest slowly ebbing away under her touch. "Hey, I'm a homely knight, remember?" he said with a tired laugh and a smile that made her chest ache. "Got a reputation to keep up."

    "You're not looking very homely, though." Veronica said, her voice somewhere between truthful and teasing. "You clean up well, Munson."

    "So do you." His words came smoothly, belying the nervousness he felt at being alone with her. "I don't think I've ever seen your hair down like that. It's pretty."

    She blushed tenderly at his compliment, pulling her hand from his as she settled it atop her lap, tugging at the tips of her fingers.

    He watched her for a moment - admired her, but he wasn't about to tell her so. "Look, I-I'm sorry for ruining your night."

    "It wasn't your fault, Eddie-" Her head snapped up, eyes velveteen as she turned to look at him.

    "Still, you should have gotten that dance."

    She straightened, legs pulling up from where they'd been dangling over the edge of the van, her body twisting to look back at the passenger's seat. "We can still do that.” She’d somehow managed to flip herself around, nearly burying them both in an ocean of airy tulle and silken ribbon. “You got any music in here?" she asked, pointing to the glove compartment, not bothering to wait for his answer as she crawled over piles of blankets and pillows to reach the front of the van, the compartment door practically falling open for her as she dug through a thick stack of tapes.

    "Veronica, hold on-" For the life of him, he could only think of one tape he'd kept in that stack - and he didn't think he'd survive if she found it.

    Skimming through the titles, he counted the plastic clacks, his heart skipping a beat as she stopped at the eighth tape - because of course she would.

    It was hers, anyway.

    "Hey, this… this is mine." She ran her thumb over her faded handwriting, the once-pristine tape now faded and well-loved, the spools ground smooth from having been listened and re-listened to endlessly. How had he gotten it? She'd sworn it was gone forever…

    "You left it behind after you… After I blew up on you a while back."

    Her mouth opened with a gasp, her eyes wide as she exclaimed, "In the drama room!" She clutched the tape to her chest, voice bubbling with excitement. "And you kept it? Really?"

    Eddie felt his face burn as he nodded, head hanging low, his chin nearly to his chest as he tried to hide the scalding blush singeing the tips of his ears. "I swear to God, I meant to give it back-"

    "This is perfect!" Veronica slid the tape into the car's player; she flipped through the songs, stopping at Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper - the fourth song on the tape, he knew, having already memorized the track list.

    She crawled out of the van as the instrumental began to play, pulling him to his feet, and she’d led them a ways away from the vehicle to a flat patch of grass, her smile radiant as she looked at him.

    "Sweetheart, I… I gotta tell you, I got two left feet-" Eddie felt beyond awkward as he stared at her, unsure of what to do, of where to put his hands. As the music gently flowed from the van, catching in the balmy evening breeze, Veronica finally turned to face him; she straightened out the flounces of her dress, pulled back her hair, her face already beginning to pinken as the gap between them quickly disappeared.

    "Veronica-"

    "It's easy, alright? Here-" She picked up his hands, settling them at her waist; she could feel the warmth of his touch through the layers of fabric. Eddie looked at her, his mind wiped clean at the feeling of her under his palms, of being able to touch her. "Hold me, just like that." she explained, taking yet another step toward him, their bodies nearly chest to chest. "And I put my hands here…" As she slipped her arms over his shoulders, fingers lacing together, Eddie nearly forgot how to breathe, and it took her nudging his foot with her own to pull back his attention.

    "Follow the rhythm of the music." Eddie’s eyes began to gleam, his smile wide - that, he could do; as he picked up on the beat, she began to move them side to side in time. "See? Easy peasy." she said, face alight with glee at the way he'd shaken his head. "You're already a natural."

    "Yeah?" he asked, ducking closer toward her; neither were aware of - or, rather, chose to acknowledge - how the sliver of space between them was gone, of how they'd pressed into each other. Eddie's hands moved further behind her, settling at the small of her back, fingers splayed apart as he held her against him. "This isn't as bad as I'd thought it'd be."

    "You thought dancing with me would be bad?" Veronica's head fell back with a laugh, bright and bubbling, and Eddie's toothy smile nearly split his face in two.

    "Not with you - just in general, I guess."

    "You don't dance much?"

    "Angel, do I look like I dance at all?"

    She shook her head, silken hair brushing gently over his hands, nearly catching between his fingers. "I don't know… Could've fooled me." she teased, still giddy, the hands she'd kept behind his head sliding over his shoulders, trailing down to his suited chest.

    They were quiet for a while, the song changing into something slower, more intimate, as they continued to sway to the rhythm.

    "Eddie?" Veronica whispered, afraid the moment between them - whatever it was - would be gone if she spoke too loudly.

    "Hm?" came his hummed reply.

    "Thanks for coming with me, it's been… really nice." He'd pulled away just enough to look at her, eyes wide with disbelief.

    "Don't regret having asked me first?"

    And, to his shock, she shook her head, and he'd caught the way her face had burst the prettiest shade of blush he'd ever seen just before she'd pressed it to his shoulder, hiding herself away. "I-I was never going to ask Steve, I just… I don't know, I didn't want you to think I was lame or whatever..."

    Eddie nodded, heart soaring, the knots that now seemed to be a permanent fixture in his stomach slowly unraveling, and a blissful sort of peace washed over him as he tightened his hold around her, his head falling atop hers, cheek pressed to her hair as they continued to dance - and being there, with her in his arms, dancing in front of an abandoned quarry under the pale light of the moon… Nothing in his life had ever made more sense.

Tag List

@lulukings92 @i-me-mine @kaitebugg03 @enchante-em

[fixfoxnox]

Not biting anon: Id love to bite people but the only people i have constant access to are my immediate family

My youngest sibling gets horrified and whines about being bit (i try every now and then and the results are always the same smh, like yesterday i didnt even get to chomp!!)

My brother has physical boundaries that im learning and biting is currently off the list

And mi má? No way am i trying with her. She's a germaphobe and also very tame with what's considered appropriate behavior

Am always jealous about people who get opportunities to bite people.

-👑

Hello crown anon (tempted to call you king/könig)! /lh

Honestly I don't think I could ever bite anyone else. I'll like rarely bite myself but my thing is like sucking on stuff. I used to leave bruises on my arms from just latching on to my skin like an octopus. That and chewing. I used to chew my hair and clothes up really bad and now I chew up pens and pencils and water bottles instead.

Its really bad like I bought some of those chew necklaces at one point and ended up chewing through them all in like a week 😔

I wish all of my followers who bite good luck either finding someone who will let you gnaw on them. Every biter deserves someone who is willing to be bitten

[annieslytherpuff21]

Falling for Hogan’s Heroes Day 1

I will be crossposting this on fanfiction dot net account (LightShiner14) soon. I’m already a few hours late for November 1st and I want to hit all the days, so my anxiety and constraints of being a night shifter made me post it here first.

Holidays

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through barracks two not a creature was stirring except Felix the mouse.

Except, Carter was whistling cherry Christmas tunes, Newkirk was griping about the onslaught to his ears, LeBeau’s spoon was clanking on the sides of his pot on the stove, Kinch was talking football with a few guys at the table, and Colonel Hogan was chatting up a pretty underground agent who’d just dropped them off some intel about troop movements. So not really all that quiet.

“Carter, would you stop that infernal whistling?” Newkirk finally slammed his darning down, hopped down off the top bunk, and pulled Carter’s hat down over the young American’s face.

“Aww, come on, I wasn’t bothering anyone was I?” Carter fixed his hat and set down the letter he was writing and stood up to face off with the slightly taller Britt.

“LeBeau, please tell Carter here that he’s givin’ us all a brain bleed!”

“Hm?” LeBeau looked up from the pot where his attention had been focused. His eyes gave off a deer in the headlights gleam.

“Tell Carter to stop whistling,”

“I wasn’t bothering you, was I LeBeau?” Carter pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You need to settle this yourselves, I won’t fight your battles for you. Grow up.” The Frenchman snapped before turning his attention back to his pot.

“LeBeau, are you feeling ok little buddy?” Newkirk was suddenly concerned about LeBeau and Carter’s whistling seemed inconsequential.

“Yeah, LeBeau, what’s the matter?” Carter chipped in.

LeBeau heaved out a heavy sigh and shook his head no. “I am fine, just thinking. I will be ok,”

But he wasn’t really, every Christmas was hard to get through. He tried to keep himself busy, but sometimes that wasn’t enough.

“You’ve been real quiet lately Louie, are you sure you’re ok mate?” Newkirk nudged the shorter Frenchman.

“40,” Louis whispered.

Recognition gleamed in Newkirk’s eyes and he squeezed the other man’s shoulder and huffed out a sigh of his own. “I know,” he nodded his head, gave LeBeau another squeeze and then nudged Carter back towards their bunks.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothin Andrew, just sit back down and finish writin’ that letter, ok?”

“But what’s wrong with LeBeau?”

“You wouldn’t understand Carter, just give it a rest,”

“Fine,” Carter huffed, plopping himself back down onto his bunk and grabbing his pencil to finish writing his letter to his gran.

“And no whistling!” Newkirk grumbled as he saw the American’s pursed lips, like he was about to start up again.

Carter huffed but continued writing in silence.

As Newkirk started up his darning again, he, like LeBeau, got stuck thinking back to that terrible Christmas.

It was December 24th of 1940 and Newkirk had finally gotten to a destination. He’d been shot down and separated from the rest of his flight crew over a week prior. He had then been shuffled from train to train until he finally was stuffed into the back of a truck that brought him ultimately within the barbed wire of Stalag 13.

They were made to stand in a line, he and the other British flyers who had been in the truck with him, and wait for the Kommandant.

2 hours later, a tall gangly German came out of the building they were facing. He had a malicious grin and an evil twinkle in his eyes.

“Welcome to where you will die,” his smile grew.

Newkirk felt a pit grow in his stomach that was already gnawing at his insides from lack of food. A feeling he knew all too well.

“For you, the war is over. If you try to escape, you will be shot. If you do not follow the rules, you will be shot. And that would be lucky for you, because otherwise, the cold, that is what will kill you. Now! I will assign you to your barracks. If there is so much of a hint of insolence that I hear about, you will be shot. Be aware, the walls have eyes and ears, so if you step a toe out of line, I will know, and you will be shot.”

Newkirk quivered in his boots. His usual snarky self knew that he could get in trouble easily and he wasn’t too fond of the idea of being shot. Therefore, he decided that he was just going to keep his mouth shut. Safer that way, just like it had been with his old man.

Newkirk was assigned to barracks two. When he was finally dismissed, he entered his new dwelling to find that all but one other prisoner in there were all sporting French uniforms. He couldn’t control the grimace that grew on his face.

Bloody Frogs.

“Right on, what’s your name old chap?” The other Britt, whose proper accent made Newkirk even more uncomfortable than all the frog eyes on him, stood up and walked over to Newkirk with an outstretched hand of friendship.

Newkirk shook it, and cleared his throat, “Newkirk,” was all he said, but he could tell by the subtle changes in the other man’s face that it had been enough.

“Right, we’ll then,” the other corporal was much less cheery now, “ you can bunk there, the last bloke passed about two nights ago now,”

Newkirk gulped, the Kommandant hadn’t been joking. He nodded his head and made up his mind that he was going to do everything in his power to make it back to his sister alive.

Sitting down on his newly assigned bunk, he took in the rest of the barracks. Most of the men within were supporting cherry red noses and a haunted expression accentuated by deep dark bags under their eyes. A few had their arms in slings and there was much coughing.

Even though there were four walls and a roof, it was still very cold and everyone was trying their best to maintain their body heat.

Newkirk hadn’t even realized that he had drifted off to sleep until he heard the yells summoning all the prisoners to a roll call and in less than three seconds, all the prisoners were bolting for the door to make sure they were out in a timing that the Kommandant and his goons deemed respectable.

Newkirk, as hard as he tried to not be, was the last one out and his heart was pounding. He didn’t want to be shot within his first 24 hours of being a prisoner.

It was pitch black, the only light was from the guard towers and he saw the smoke that came out from all the noses and mouths of everyone present in the dim lighting. The sight made him feel even colder than he already did.

“Merry Christmas, in honor of this day and that you are so far away from all of your loved ones, we will celebrate by standing in formation until I deem fit!” The Kommandant announced over the loud speakers of the camp. He didn’t even dignify them with leaving his office, which, if the smoke billowing out of the chimney was any indication, was nice and toasty warm.

Newkirk had no idea what time it was and didn’t have the guts to look at his watch, afraid that tiny movement might get him shot.

They stood, and stood, and stood. Newkirk was afraid his legs were going to fall off. The sky opened up, and soon the men were starting to get snow accumulating on them, but no one moved. Their teeth clattered and their eyelashes started to freeze.

The wet started to seep through his clothes and eventually even his shoes. His toes were numb, and his face was as cold as ice.

They watched the sun rise, and it continued to climb. Still, they stood.

Men started falling to the ground, and if someone made a move to help them, a gun was trained in their direction.

When they finally were dismissed, Newkirk’s watch read 10. The men could barely move, they were all so stiff.

The hut felt so much warmer compared to the frigid temperatures outside.

“Merry Christmas, dirty boshe!” A short Frenchman growled helping one of the men who had collapsed into a bunk. “Someday, I’ll show him, make the filthy pig pay!”

“LeBeau, be more quiet, or they will hear,” the man he was helping whispered before letting out a horrendous cough.

“So what, let them shoot me! I don’t care, I will die for France!”

“France is in ruins, they have ruined our beautiful homeland,”

“Shh, we will someday rescue her and rebuild, picture the day, the wine will flow, and the children will sing, it will be a beautiful day, and we will see it,”

The other man was coughing violently and started convulsing.

The fiery one, LeBeau, started singing softly, a French carol and slowly the rest of the men started chiming in, just as softly.

It brought tears to Newkirk’s eyes. He didn’t understand the lyrics, but he understood the sentiment.

“They can steal our freedom, our land, and our lives even, but we can not let them steal our spirit, because that’s when we lose,” LeBeau hissed and his countrymen nodded in agreement and they started to sing what Newkirk recognized as the French national anthem.

Newkirk couldn’t help but admire the short man who single handed raised the morale of 15 other men.

It helped him too, even though he was sure the speech hadn’t been for him.

Unfortunately, LeBeau’s rallying words were some of the last that 5 of the prisoners in the barracks ever heard.

“Newkirk! Newkirk, are you ok?!”

Newkirk blinked as he registered that Andrew Carter was trying to get his attention.

“What is it now?” He grumbled, only half grumpy, at the American.

“Colonel Hogan wants to see you in his office, and you were off in another world,”

Newkirk rolled his eyes. “Ok Carter, and uh, you can keep whistling if you’d like.”

[james-harmony]

<Vent on Art, Me, and People I don‘t even know>

Feel free to skip

I think I‘m now at a place where a significant number of artists are younger, and not older than me. It‘s weird, cause I‘m still not great when compared to a lot of them. I can place faults and reasons on whatever, but it still makes me a bit sad; maybe a bit happy too. I finally understand when they say emptions get more complicated the older you get.

Maybe it‘s better that my parents wouldn‘t have payed for artschool. If I was good enough I‘d had enough of a portafolio to get a scholarship or something. I dreamt of getting coloured pencils, a drawing tablet, a notebook, or maybe even a brush and paint for my birthday, but maybe that couldn‘t happen. The colours I managed to buy, the tablet my ex sold to me, the way too expensive notebook I bought for sketching… maybe that‘s all there is. The effort to continue and keep trying, despite not having the time or means; continuing with every cell in your body telling you that you suck at this. Probably will never be anything more than something that sometimes makes you happy I guess that’s good enough.

I still see other people, friends, finishing their careers in theater, graphic design, animation; even just strangers on the internet proudly showing their amazing work, and yeah, I do feel sucky and cry a little. Wondering if that could‘ve been me, or If I would‘ve failed half way through. However, I‘m also really happy for them. I‘m glad someone took the risk and put themselves out there, wether they had help along the way or no.

And yeah, this is all rather selfish. Taking other people’s accomplishments and making them about me. I just don’t really know what to do with these feelings. Like, I don’t hate my life. I like that I went into science and the people I’ve met. Maybe I will always have this voice gnawing away the back if my head, telling me I suck, maybe I gave up any chances I had to do what I want that it’s not even funny or tragic anymore. I just want to grab the voice, scream and ask what the hell am I supposed to do then? Of course it would laugh and disintegrate into nothing, being only a construction of my self loathing mind. So that just leaves me alone, trying to balance everything and hoping not to think to much, in case it might kill me.

Not all questions have an answer, and sometimes we just have to live with that.

[atozphantomsquadron]

Chapter 3: Quest Initiation

January 12th

This is it, the morning that I leave this home, and yet here I sit writing in this journal.  I’m really not sure why.  Maybe I should be a bit more heroic about things, and say that I’m writing my future memoirs.  Maybe I should be pessimistic and say this should be read upon my death.  For whatever reason, I record these words today.

Gabe has been up all night, running back and forth between the house and the stable, making sure we’re all prepped to go.  Michi slept in my room last night … in fact, she’s still asleep as I write this, curled up on one side of the bed while I sit on the other, journal in hand, pencil in motion.  The clock hasn’t struck 3am yet.

I have no qualms about saying that I’m scared out of my mind.  I’m placing myself in harm’s way.  This is a fact that was pretty thoroughly drilled into me last night, and the day before. 

But as I think about it, why shouldn’t I?  Who am I to stay safe while other supernaturals out there are being chased, captured, tortured, murdered?  Why should I be the one who stays behind and just watches, when I have the power to do something about it?

I’ve been training nearly my whole life for this opportunity.  From what Mom and Dad told me, I was flying before I was walking.  When I was two, I started flying through the canyon with Mom, accompanying the dragon everywhere, being there by her side, and just witnessing the glory that is the power of flight.  At six, Dad started coaching me in swordplay, to make sure that I was ready when I had to draw the Sword for the first time.  I even remember, at twelve, a night when I had a vision before a fire in our back yard, when I had to prove myself worthy to my mother in order to claim the Sword, my birthright.  When I emerged from it, I remember how happy my parents were.

This is a happy memory that sustains me, now that Dad is gone and Mom is missing.  As far as I know, I am the last of the Sharpes.  The Sword is mine.  The Guardsman, also, is now my burden to bear.  I’m as prepared as I ever will be to assume my role.

Michi stirs next to me: still asleep.  Sometimes I swear she curls up like a cat when she’s asleep: maybe there’s a little bit more of Aunt Kitty in her than I thought initially.  Sleep is starting to creep up on me.  Before I set the journal aside, I reach down and hug Michi gently.  She leans back into my embrace.

“Thank you for helping me, my friend,” I whisper to her.  I don’t know if she registers it or not, but she seems content.  Is she purring?

The alarm rings at 7.  Aunt Kitty sprints into our room and takes a flying leap into the bed to wake us up.  After a bit of wrangling between herself and Michi, Aunt Kitty sprints back out of the room, satisfied that we’re both awake.

After bathroom trips, it’s off to the kitchen for breakfast for the two of us.  Honestly, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of Aunt Kitty’s bizarre cooking, and it may be one thing I miss dearly when I’m away from this place.  Gabe is already sitting at the table, coffee in hand, sipping silently.

“We’re gassed up and packed and ready, girls.  When you’re finished and ready, we’ll go.”  Sip.  Gabe sounds like a father trundling his family on a road trip.

“Where are we headed first?”  I take a forkful of eggs into my mouth as I ask.

“Our first stop on this trip is going to be Trinity Site.  We were never really able to investigate the place through CIA channels: I’m hoping that outlaw channels will be more fruitful.”  Sip.

“Should we be expecting trouble?”  Michi sounds way too excited when she asks that.  I simply keep stuffing my face.

“Most certainly.  Cole was never able to send us a report from the site because he was apparently ambushed before he could check in.  I can tell you, however, that the history of the place also lends to some of the sinister air.”  Sip.

I nod and gnaw a piece off of a bison chop.  “That’s the nuclear test site, right?  Is it even safe for us to be there in general?”

“It’s been relatively radiation-cold for about two years.  Levels are acceptable for us, without lead-lined suits.”  Sip.

Now it’s Aunt Kitty’s turn to join the conversation.  “You’d better be able to keep our babies safe, Gabe.  I don’t want to kick your ass in until it’s concave.”

“Relax, Kitty, they’ll be fine with me. ”  Sip.  He turns over the cup.  “Refill?”

Aunt Kitty grumbles and smirks as she refills Gabe’s cup.  “Honestly, man, where in the hell do you put all this coffee?  Don’t you need to piss like a racehorse?”

“No comment.”  Sip.  “Alanna, Michika, you both are going to need to be ready to fight when I tell you to.  That’s the only ground rule I have for this escapade, got it?”

We both nod.  Michi is the first to respond vocally.  “I think I speak for both of us when I say, bring it.”

Gabe smiles.  “That’s my girls.”  Sip.

Breakfast finished, we go back to my room to get dressed.  Michi detaches and goes into her own room, which makes perfect sense since that’s where her clothes are.  I close the door behind me, thankful for the privacy, and strip out of the pajamas I’ve been loaned.

The closet is filled with a lot of various women’s clothing, but one item stands out among the crowd: a sleek, modern-looking two-piece bodysuit made from some sort of dark green material.  I pull the top of the outfit out and look at it.  It has a large opening in the back, like it would completely expose my back if I wore it.  The pants are of the same material, a very soft yet very pliable fabric that I can’t quite identify.

There’s a word stitched into the top, in black thread which blends in with the green in the right light.  I run my fingers lightly along it to read it.

VIBRIA.

My fingers clutch tighter.  Mom had told me, she had to wear a special suit for her earliest missions in the CIA.  Now I remember the story … it had been designed by my grandfather Ken Sharpe and Uncle Cyrus, as an outfit which would allow Mom to keep her dignity in her transformations, but still offer some protection and ability to even use her powers. 

That explains the open back … it’s for wings.  This will come in handy.  I swap my bra for the uniform top.  It’s a little loose on me but it’ll work for its purpose, especially since my grandfather and Uncle Cyrus were nice enough to include a drawstring at the bottom. 

I feel the embroidered name on the top again and close my eyes.  Mom, I’m coming for you.  Don’t worry.

The top has a tall collar, so I put on my confirmation cross, a small gold cross on a red satin choker, around my neck, on top of the uniform.  It makes me feel secure: the cross was one of the last gifts Dad gave me, so I feel like more of him is with me than just the Sword.  The pants of the outfit fit me like a tight Spandex glove, revealing every curve.  I am going to be soooo self-conscious wearing this outfit.  I quickly find a pair of nice, worn jeans and pull them up frantically over the leg-hugger pants.  One last straighten of everything in the mirror, and I’m ready to go, with my overnight bag packed.

When I get to the living room, there’s a big group hug going on in the center of the floor.  Michi is kneeling there, so that her dad can reach her.  Aunt Kitty is over the top of the group, crouching a little bit.  Gabe is standing in the doorway, keeping watch over the scene, still with his ever-present coffee mug.

There’s tears falling in the hug.  Michi, Aunt Kitty … even Uncle Cyrus is watering up a little bit.  They’re going to miss each other a lot, I can tell.

“You stay safe, Michika.  We love you a lot.”  Aunt Kitty kisses Michi’s forehead.

“Remember what I’ve taught you, and for God’s sake, keep Alanna safe.”  Uncle Cyrus clutches his daughter’s neck one last time.

Michi returns these instructions with affection, kisses and reassurances.  “Don’t worry, it’ll be okay.  We’ll be safe.”

I can’t resist.  This is the only other family I have, so I have to be included in this love fest.  I join the group and clutch them all tightly.  “We’ll be okay.  I’ll take care of Michi for you.”

Aunt Kitty punches me playfully on the arm.  “You’d better, or my foot and your ass are going to have a conference!”  She grins and winks.  She knows we’ll be all right.

Gabe clears his throat at the doorway.  We all look over at him, and he smiles.  “It’s time, girls.”

I stand up and check the Sword, hanging from my hip.  Its weight is reassuring, although it feels more awkward than it probably should because it’s so long and I’m just a teenager.  Michi looks over and smiles, flexing her fingers inside the mysterious gauntlet.  Sparks crackle around her knuckles.

I smile back, then turn to Gabe.  “All right, let’s go.”

[dariaslookalike]

I used to get called an 'old soul' when I was little. I was quiet, shy, reserved and smart. I knew how the world worked and I trudged on, ever so determined to push through. People don't say it to my face anymore, but when they first meet me, and I can't help but to tap my foot anxiously or look anywhere but their eyes, I think I still give them that impression.

But I was never an old soul.

I was lonely. God I was lonely. I suppose I still am; but my mum talks about speaking things into the universe, and I hope that if I say that I *was* lonely, maybe it'll be true. Maybe I won't have this aching hole in my chest, and maybe this persistent feeling of isolation will be a thing of the past.

It's odd to be lonely, yet to have people. I have my mum. My brothers. My friends. They make me feel loved and happy, most of the time. But not heard. Not seen. I feel like every insecurity, every gnawing fear, every anxious thought is brushed over and skimmed past by them. I feel like I am so widely unknown. Do they know that every time I read shitty poetry on a random person's account, I cry? Do they know that I want to lose weight but I love food too much? Do they know that I love drawing and painting and creating but I find myself in periods of time where I can't pick up a pencil or a paintbrush in fear of making something horrible? Do they know that I can't help but pick and pull at my skin for weeks until I get bored and let it heal?

Do they know that I think and fear that I'm unloveable?

I suppose, fundamentally, *that* is what loneliness is. Feeling unloveable. Feeling like everyone that you see and greet, everyone that you smile and talk to, they all think the same thoughts about you and wish for each interaction to be over.

I haven't been kissed. Or touched. Or even simply hugged. I get into these ruts where I feel horrible. Like right now. I feel like my carpeted floor could burst into flames and my mattress could dissolve into a puddle of acid, and I wouldn't blink an eye. I so desperately want what others have. I want someone to make me not feel so lonely.

I want someone to see every ugly part of me, every horrid thing in my heart and my mind and I was them to hold my head and say "It's alright it's alright it's alright it's alright it's alright.' I want someone to see me. To hear me. To know me. I want to know someone. I want to hug their ribcage until they gasp and have to tell me to let go. I want to bite their arm and their shoulder and their neck and anywhere I can reach so they know I love them. I want to make shitty plans with them but be excited nonetheless because it's with them. I want to talk about dreams and aspirations, and still wake up every morning to go to our shitty 9-5, but know that those hopes are still alive when we get home to each other. I want their shitty posters on my wall and my shitty artworks on their cabinets. I want to know their fears and their past and their future and I want to always be their present. I want to cuddle while we watch a shitty chick-flick and cringe into their chest everytime a bad line is said. I want to never have to ask if they also want a cup of coffee or tea but simply bring them one and kiss their head or their hand when they take the mug.

I want to know and be known. I want to stop being so lonely.

[lovemilkshakemeh]

Stress Mikasa X reader

a/n: I gave up like halfway through the smut so imagine the rest ig. yeah if u like it I can write another one and finish it. oh and lmk of mikasa is too ooc. also, this is my first fic Idk what I'm doing but enjoy it. I also posted this on Wattpad so if u see it I promise it's not plagiarized @kanatoesbae on Wattpad don't judge it's my @ from middle school.

Tags: nipple play (not really), SMUT,  nicknames (pretty girl, baby, etc), praise kink, sub! Mikasa

MDNI

Mikasa Ackerman was many things- studious, caring, and strong-willed, but most importantly a hard worker. At heart, she is a shy girl who would do anything for those she loves. So much so in fact that she finds herself overlooking her personal needs for the sake of others. For example last month during a group project she had teamed up with a bunch of students who begged her to join their group despite the fact that they had only spoken once or twice in passing. They then proceed to never show up on time, ignore her texts and basically disregard the entire project. She ended up doing all the work alone without complaining.  In fact, she didn’t even tell her professor that she did all the work herself without the assistance of her partners. And when you’d bring it up she seemed to always find a way to dismiss it saying things like:

“It’s ok” “I’m fine” or “ They’re probably too busy”

This is not to say she isn’t the type to stand up for others. No, quite the opposite really. When the barista got Armin’s coffee order wrong, and he insisted that it was fine,  she immediately stood up got it fixed. When the professor snapped on Eren for being late to class she stood up for him claiming that it wasn’t fair that he was punished because it was his first offense ( though not his last). And when that same professor scolded her she said nothing only listening until he was finished.

As her girlfriend, you’ve learned to help Mikasa care for herself. So when you came over to her place and saw her pretty face contorted into somewhat of a frown you did what you knew best.

 “What’s wrong Mika?”

Walking towards her desk.

“Nothing I’m fine.”

She says unconvincingly whilst gnawing on the pink eraser on the back of her pencil. 

Turning her chair around and looking into her pretty grey eyes I see how conflicted she is. Whatever project she is working on is eating her alive.

In the most sickly sweet tone, I speak to her almost as if I am trying not to break her.

“Baby, why don’t we take a break.”

Pouting she almost immediately tries to decline the offer, but before she can I quickly save whatever she was working on and shut her laptop gently. 

I cup her face look into her eyes and give her the softest kiss on her nose, then her cheeks, her forehead before finally deciding to lean in and give her a kiss on her lips. The place she seemed to crave, but would never vocalize.

Her lips are soft and she tasted like honey sticky and sweet. Not the tooth-rotting kind but the kind you’d welcome. The kind that melts on your tongue and along with it so would your worries. The kind of sweet you get addicted to after the first taste. Just one look at her and you’d get addicted. And her smell was euphoric, dopamine conducive. The kind of smell you would associate with things like a bakery in a small town. The type of smell I would never allow myself to imagine in fear of spoiling it. She seemed like she was golden and unattainable. Her grey eyes, which were full of worry, gleaned like the prettiest stone you’ve never seen just before she closed her eyes and deepened the kiss.  

Pulling away slowly, I dragged her to the bathroom and turned on the shower- not too hot and not too cold just right, the perfect temperature that would wash away her stress.

“Ok Mika, the water is warm”

I turn around and she is undressing. Slowly she drops the short black skirt she had on and lifted the white sweater she was wearing. Revealing her lacy lavender lingerie. The air was caught in my throat. Mikasa Ackerman never fails to leave me speechless. 

Before unclipping her bra she turns to look at me with a hungry look. It's not a look that is easily decipherable, at least not on her. She hid the look under a layer of shyness. Biting her lips and looking over with doe eyes. She pretends to be clueless, but she is fully aware of what she is doing and I know exactly what she wants.

“Do you need help with that”

She nods subtly.

“Ok, turn around pretty girl”

My fingers slowly trail down he back until I reach the top of her bra. I trace the outline teasingly with feather-light touches. Her breath hitches and she lets out a soft gasp. Slowly letting it fall down. I watch her in the mirror in front of us as her bra drops to the ground with a soft thump.

Her bare nipples pebble at the change in temperature. And I turn her around to look her in the eyes directly instead of in the mirror in front of us.

I lean in and say barely above a whisper “all done”.

She whines as an almost silent beg for more. 

Because I was feeling generous I lean in kiss her slowly while caressing her sides. My hands slide up and down her skin as my teeth nip at her bottom lip and my tongue dances with hers.

Slowly I kiss down from her lips to her jaw, then down to her neck where I blow a soft puff of air before murmuring some soft praises and kissing down to her collar bone. Where I suck and nibble on the soft flesh of her collar and let go with a quiet pop leaving behind a mark.

Then I pull away and look into her eyes once more to see her bliss-filled expression.

“Cmon let’s get in the shower, baby”

I say as I slide my hands down to the hem of her panties tracing it with my fingernail. I pull the band of her lacey panties out and let it snap back onto her flesh. She moans at the sudden pain. 

“Oh, I’m sorry did that hurt”

She whimpers as I say that with faux concern not that it matters because she is too focused on my hands traveling down to her inner thighs almost touching her where she craves me the most.

My fingertips graze the damp spot on her lacy underwear resulting in a quiet whimper leaving her mouth.

“Whats’s this? Someone is wet for me? I thought we were taking a shower?”

I remove her underwear only to see a clear string attached to her underwear as I pull them down. She steps out of them and kicks them into a corner of the bathroom.

I slowly undress giving her a small show. I take off my top and reveal the bra I was wearing, it was a black sports bra with a swoosh engraved on the front. Then I step out of my grey joggers and set them aside. I look up and make eye contact with her as I remove my bra and panties. Making it a bit of a show I caress my nipples and bite my lip gently suppressing a soft moan.

Mikasa looked at me like she wanted to eat me alive, eyes dimming a little, and her teeth softly sunk into her bottom lip. And her eyes glued to my hands- more specifically my fingers circling my nipples until they were at stiff peaks.

I lead her into the shower.

After we step in she looks up at me expectantly. Eyes silently begging me to continue my ministrations beforehand. 

Normally I would make her beg- tease her a bit, but she is stressed and I want to make her feel good so I push her gently against the shower wall and lean into peck her soft lips.

“What do you want pretty girl, hmm?”

“Want you to touch me.”

“Here”

I caress her collarbone fingers tracing the hickey I left earlier.

“Or how about right here”

My hands trail down to the top of her breast.

“Or maybe right here”

My fingers trace her left nipple, earning a whimper from her pretty lips. I kiss around her right nipple before I give in and take it into my mouth. I suck her right nipple and pinch and tease the left one resulting in a series of moans escaping her mouth.

“You're so pretty, baby. My pretty, pretty girl”

Kissing down her body leaving hickeys and sloppy kisses from her nipples down to her thighs. Only stopped to breathe and listen to her pretty moans.

‘Mmh, more please”

“Yeah,  want me to touch you here.”

[har-cas07]

TREASURE || LEE TAEYONG x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, Oneshot

Warnings: unprotected sex, strong language, sexual tension, slow burn, face-fucking, mommy!kink, slight degradation.

Word count: 2.5k+

I shrug out of the black and white dress suit and boring black flats, exhausted out of my wits from signing company papers all day. I slip onto a red wine dress and black classy pencil heels.

Being a billionaire is exhausting, but obviously it has its perks.

From the start, sexist men refused to give out loans to me but I didn’t let them stop me from building the most successful empire, ‘L/N Enterprises’.

I didn’t let the monsters lurking in the dark have a chance to drag me down, instead I took their hate and turned it into success, rising so high that I’d have to look down upon people.

I have a gala to attend to today evening. My first public appearance and to be honest, I was a little nervous. I have never really been big on social media and kept a needed distance from the paparazzi.

Adjusting the beautiful dress which had a long split alongside one of my leg which ended a little below my knee, I grabbed a small shiny black clutch that matched my heels and made my way towards my black tinted BMW car.

My driver opened the door for me and I thanked him, settling in the back seat. That is when nerves started getting the better of me.

Anxiety was gnawing on my insides and settling in the pit of my stomach. My jittering nerves made me forget about the exhaustion I had a few minutes back.

The driver slowed to a stop in front of a red carpet that led to a huge hall decorated beautifully. It felt like thousands of paparazzi had their camera’s aimed at my car and were waiting for me to step out.

Taking a deep breath, I nodded at the driver through the rear view mirror and he stepped out of the car and opened the door for me. I took a deep breath in order to collect myself and gracefully stepped out, straightening my gown almost immediately.

I am not a klutz, I swear.

Before I had a chance to breathe in the fresh air, my eyes were blinded with flashes going off, everywhere imaginable. Shouts filled the air about turning my head in their direction and hundreds of questions were fired all at once, making my ears bleed. I tried my best to cooperate.

Suddenly a sleek-white limo rolled in and all the attention was torn away from me making me almost stomp my legs childishly.

I turned around when flashes started going off faster than an express train. I expected at least 5 people to come out of the huge limo but only one man stepped out in a royal blue modern suit with no tie and the top few buttons undone. Pinkish-blonde hair gelled back sexily and a long silver earring hanging off one of his earlobes. High cheekbones and a killer sharp jaw line and sinfully beautiful almond shaped black eyes curtained behind a pair of long eyelashes.

Just a look at him and I knew everything I have to know about a person.

A show-off.

I glared at him as recognition flashed through my mind. I know this sexy devil.

Lee Taeyong.

And he is a total pain in the ass.

I proceeded towards the doors and entered the hall that took my breath away.

The humongous hall was painted in crème white and it had a soft golden glow due to the beautiful chandeliers hanging in a zigzag shape, stretching across the hall. The white of the walls made different colors of gowns and tuxedo’s pop up and it made me feel under-dressed.

Clinking of glasses and laughter echoed around, along with soft chatter and click of heels.

I glanced around, feeling like a stick in the mud and completely out of place until I saw something that caught my eye.

A buffet.

And, A CHOCOLATE FOUNTAIN!

Without a second thought, I cut through the crowd, my eyes locked on the chocolate fountain as my mouth salivated.

The cocoa smell wafted through the air mixing with the multiple dishes nearby. I grabbed a strawberry from the basket kept at the side and dipped it in the chocolate, accidently getting some on my manicured fingertips and popping the whole thing in my mouth.

Unconsciously, I wiped my chocolate covered on my gown and plucked another one, dipping it in chocolate and repeating the action.

A chuckle touched my ears that sounded way too close for my liking. I swiveled around to catch the culprit when their deep gruff voice mused, “Miss, you got a little something on your dress.”

Of course.

Lee-fucking-Taeyong.

“Fuck, Merde, くそ, Mierda, Fanculo” I cursed not-so-elegantly in every language I could think of and tried to wipe it with my already dirty fingers, further making a mess.

“What are you, summoning a ghost?” He snickered but I ignored him and grabbed a few tissues, walking towards what I assumed were the bathrooms.

A warm hand grabbed my forearm, still chuckling that sent small goose bumps down my spine, “This way.” Leading me the opposite direction in which I was going.

He dragged me to, what I really hope, is the bathroom or else I will Kung-fu his ass off. Trust me Kung-fu panda had a lot of things to teach.

I shook my hand out of his hold and ignored the feeling of cold when his warm hand abandoned mine. I walked in the bathroom when I saw the sign, it was a unisex bathroom, and wet the napkin a little, making it crumble but I viciously scrubbed my gown, trying to get rid of the stain.

Okay so, maybe I am a little bit of a klutz.

“No” Taeyong whispered and took the napkin out of my hand, “May I?” He asked, gesturing to my dress and I gave him a single nod.

Frustration was getting the best of me and honestly I don’t think I can do this. I suck at this. I should’ve let my manager do this.

I watched with intent eyes as Taeyong discarded the dirty napkins and took out his triangular shaped white handkerchief and dabbed it in water, going down on his knees and wiping it delicately.

My mind went into overdrive when I saw him on his knees in front of me and every dirty novel I ever read started whirling in my mind making me feel hot and bothered.

“Name’s Taeyong” He said suddenly and continued to wipe my dress.

“Y/N” I resisted to urge to shout at him, ‘I KNOW’ and replied simply.

He stood up and washed his chocolate-y piece of cloth and I realized it a bit too late when he caged me in between his arms around the sink. With my 3 inch heel, I was merely few inches shorter than his 5”8’ height.

His midnight eyes stared into mine and he muttered, “Never heard of you before, Y/N.”

Suddenly feeling confident, I smirked and leaned in, whispering in his ear, “Well now you’ll never forget me.” I have no idea why I even said that!? Why would I say that??

Taeyong’s pink tongue poked out of his bow shaped lips and swiped over them, wetting them and suddenly the air was too thick to inhale and I sucked in a shuddering breathe when he flickered his eyes between my eyes and my lips.

He dipped down slightly and slowly, almost hesitantly leaned in. With every nerve ending of mine firing, I tried to make them work and turned my head to the other side, feeling his hot breathe against my ear and neck.

He’s a stranger. I can’t kiss a stranger.

The tension was palpable and it made me scream inwardly. I breathed hard and closed my eyes when I felt him move closer so there was barely any space between our bodies, “I could give you things, everything you ever wish for, will be yours. I am a millionaire.”

THIS IS MY MOMENT TO FLAUNT AND SHINE

I turned to face him and left less than a centimeter against our lips, letting my breathe brush against his, “Oh baby, I’m a billionaire.”

Before I could comprehend what’s going on, his soft lips crashed upon mine, almost molding into mine as I gave out a surprised but pleased sound.

One of his hands snaked around my waist, holding me impossibly closer while the other remained on the edge of the sink, keeping me caged.

I rested my hands upon his chest where I could feel his heart beating erratically, matching the speed of my own.

He kissed me like he was drowning and I was like a gulp of fresh air while I drank him in like it was a hot sunny day and he was the cool ocean breeze.

Both of his hands came to rest on my waist while I changed my position and wrung them around his neck, trying to bring his face closer to mine. Suddenly, he lifted my body like a professional ballerina and settled me on the sink, emitting a squeal from me.

Both of us breathed out a laugh and he bumped his nose with mine, cradling my face like he was the dragon and I was precious treasure.

His precious treasure.

“You are the most beautiful girl I have ever laid my eyes on.” He whispers softly against my lips, resting his forehead against mine and panting slightly.

“Too bad I can’t say the same” I teased and wrapped my legs around his waist and accidently on purpose, rubbing my thighs against his hard on.

He let out a soft groan and palmed the back of my head, clashing his lips in a dominant, bruising kiss. I swiped my tongue on his lips but he wouldn’t open his mouth.

Stubborn.

I slipped a hand between us and palmed his clothed dick, receiving a lust filled moan from him and giving me a chance to shove my tongue down his throat.

Dominance battle rose as both of us fought to take lead, tongues swirling and teeth clashing together. Just as I was about to lose, I unwrapped my legs around his waist and jumped down from the marble, never breaking the kiss but taking him by surprise. I knocked him harshly against the bathroom door –I almost forgot we were in a bathroom– and stealthily locked the door so no one walks on us eating each other’s faces out.

Taeyong’s hands reached down to massage my ass roughly making an involuntary moan escape my throat and I could feel the smirk forming on his lips that were against mine. I was furious.

How dare he make me moan??

I shoved a thigh between both of his legs, rubbing on the tent of his pants and trailing wet kisses down his sharp jaw line, biting and sucking hard to form a hickey, trying to tug his blazer off his body. I almost cried from happiness when I heard an animalistic growl/moan slip past his lips.

Suddenly, he yanked my head backward with my hair and turned us around quickly, but made sure my head didn’t hit the door harshly, protecting it with his hand.

Aw man, that makes me feel bad when I knocked his head on the wall.

“Let’s take this upstairs” He looked at me with lust and desire radiating off of him and I’m pretty sure that’s what he saw on me too when he fixed my hair and dress like a gentleman and straightened out his suit.

We exited the bathroom and I was sure nobody even noticed our absence and he led both of us to a pair of stairs right beside the bathroom and threw us in the first room, locking it and before I had the chance to admire the interior he threw me on the bed, crawling over me and feathering kisses on my cheeks, my neck, slipping my sleeves past my shoulders and kissing my collarbone.

It felt ecstatic and I never wanted this feeling to stop. For him to stop.

What he is doing right now is completely in contrast to what we were doing downstairs.

We were exchanging fierce, lust-filled and hungry kisses whereas now he was kissing me delicately like we have all the time in the world. He supported himself on his elbow beside my head and molded his lips with mine while his other hand slipped down south and caressed the skin of the slit that ran through half of my leg.

Gently, he removed his blazer and unbuttoned his shirt and I watched him undress. He was an angel. His toned torso and delicious abs so defined and deep and his pinkish blonde hair glistened in the dim light room and his earring twinkled.

He stared at me and slipped my hands past the sleeves, tugging it over my body, making me feel bare as the cool air tingled my skin.

His cold hand roamed my body like he was worshipping it. Eager to get this started, I fumbled with his belt and shoved down his pants and boxers and I nearly drooled.

HE IS BIG.

He slipped his long fingers behind me and I arched my back, and with one quick move, he unclasped my bra and his eyes clouded over my breasts.

His one hand supported him upright as his warm mouth latched on my pebble-hard nipples, giving both of my boobs the required attention, while the other went down. He slid my panties aside and cupped my pussy, his thumb started playing with my clit almost immediately.

The cold of his hand felt too good and I closed my eyes from the effect, back arching as I rubbed myself on his cool hand letting out series of small moans that I did not regret.

Because now, it was my turn to take charge.

I put my hands on his shoulders and with all my strength, I flipped us around and pinned him down. I worked my tongue all over his mouth as he let out incoherent moans, that were music to my ears.

So sinful. So beautiful.

He grabbed my hips and removed my panties and I let him. I snatched the wet garment from him and tied both of his hands on the very convenient railing-headboard.

"You-What are you d-doing?" He asked breathlessly, his pink hair ruffled and spots of red bloomed on his pale skin.

"Making you feel good." I grabbed his big crotch and stuffed it in my fist, jerking him up and down and he stifled a moan, throwing his head back on the pillow. I leaned in and tried to take the whole thing in my mouth but couldn't.

Taeyong chuckled darkly, "Most girls usually can't take it all at once."

Oh so he had definitely fucked a lot of girls.

"Well lucky for you, I'll do it," I took a deep breath. "Watch me, pretty boy."

I crawled up to his face and put my palm in front of his mouth and ordered, "Spit."

Without a question, Taeyong let out a gargling sound and coated my hand with his saliva. I let out a pleasured hum an rubbed the fluid in my hands and jerked his cock in my fist again, earning series of moans and grunts from the anime-faced boy.

I glanced up at right, right in the eye and let my jaw lose, deep throating myself and watching him writhe beneath me and I was sure he wanted to touch me.

My gag reflex sprung to life and tears pricked the side of my eyes his dick touched the back of my throat and I could taste the salty pre cum on his cock's head.

Taeyong groaned loudly and tried to wiggle out his hands from my underwear which was now working as a rope, his eyes closing in surrender.

"Eyes on the prize, or you lose the surprise" I sang in a teasing tone, letting my hands roam around every dent and curve of his abs, feeling them flex beneath my fingertips.

He opened his eyes and looked at me with heavy eyelids and I sucked on him harshly, making him let out a whimper.

Nonetheless, he tried to speak, albeit in a very strained voice, "Y/N. Sit on my face so I can eat you out while you suck my dick."

I cocked my head to the side and let his cock out of my mouth with a pop and contemplated.

"Y/N" I said my name out loud and it almost sounded foreign and I didn't like it when he called me by my name.

I sat up, right on his erect dick, torturing him and myself but I liked it this way, way better.

I dipped my head down and humped slightly on his cock, not taking it inside me, making it slip between my pussy lips.

He moaned loudly and tugged on his bound hands again but I really put it up there tight.

"You wanna try that again?" I whispered seductively and put my hands behind me on his knees, grinding myself on his cock.

"I-Wha-OH! AH! St-stop d-doing th-at" He stuttered shamelessly but refused to give me the answer I want.

I pinched his nipples and grabbed a handful of his hair and repeated, "You wanna try that again, slut?"

He moaned at the degradation and blurted out, "M-mommy" in the most breathy and sexy voice imaginable that I almost fainted with desire.

I smirked and positioned my clit right at his mouth, my thighs were on either sides of his waist and bent forward to grab his dick.

I could feel his shallow and hot breathe hitting my sex which sent tingles and adrenaline rushing through my veins.

He started kitten licking and I moaned, almost lifting my body up from his face but he moved his legs in response, indicating me to sit back down.

I obliged and then put my mouth on his red and angry crotch and started sucking it again. We both were pleasuring each other and heat felt too euphoric, too good.

"I'm about to c-cum!" I screeched, his tongue now fucking me.

"M-me too. Let's cum together."

Taeyong's moans intensified, just increasing my possibility to come undone earlier. The pressure in my clit increased, making me suck his dick more harshly and he released a little cry.

Then it happened, white streaks of hot cum spilled at the back of my throat and the quickly swallowed the tangy-liquid and I myself came undone on his mouth.

I collapsed on top of him, both of us breathing harshly. I stood up from his face and saw white sticky liquid dribbling down his chin.

I leaned and licked it from his Adam's apple to his lips and gave him an exhausted kiss.

"Wow" He breathed and I nodded, laying beside him in his arms and that's when I heard the faint noises downstairs.

The anchor was talking, "Everyone please welcome, Y/N, of L/N Enterprises."

"Shit" I cursed and scrambled up, suddenly remembering the reason for my arrival here was not to fuck Taeyong's brain out, but to attend a gala.

I grabbed my bra from the nightstand and pulled on my dress, quickly combing my hair with my fingers, wiping the sheen of sweat on my face with Taeyong's shirt on the floor.

"Where are you going???" The latter questioned, still in his butt naked glory, his hands still bound with my underwear.

"You stay right here. We're not done. I have been called upon downstairs."

"WAIT YOU"RE THE CEO OF L/N ENTERPRISES" He bellowed and I all but winked at him cheekily and closed the door behind me with a big smile on my face

[jalapeno-princess]

Kiss Me More

Mark Tuan X Reader

Word count: 6.1K

Genre: Very fluffy smut

Warning: Some sexy time in there nothing too extreme (hehehe...or is there?)

Summary: You were confident in the fact that your sex life with Mark was very exciting, wild and fun to say the least. In more or less words, it was perfect. Just your relationship in general was the kind that many people around you would be the envy of. It’s been four years since you began dating and you could honestly say it has been the best four years of your life so far because of him. He was the best boyfriend you could possibly ask for; kind, funny, gentle, considerate, soft-spoken, generous and extremely handsome. He took really good care of you and it was obvious by both his actions and his words that he was madly in love with you. As the two of you are coming down from your sex highs, you grow curious as to why once your love making sessions were over, so is the intimacy. Surely, your boyfriend has his reasons for not kissing you for too much longer as you’re about to go to bed. Right?

A/N: Based on the song “Kiss Me More” by Doja Cat and Sza. I am obsessed with this song and I knew I had to write something based on it so I hope you all enjoy! (I don’t really care for how the ending turned out but whatever).

We hug and yes, we make love And always just say "Goodnight" (la-la-la-la-la) And we cuddle, sure I do love it But I need your lips on mine

Can you kiss me more? We're so young, boy We ain't got nothin' to lose, oh, oh It's just principle Baby, hold me 'Cause I like the way you groove, oh, oh

Boy, you write your name, I can do the same Ooh, I love the taste, la-la-la-la All on my tongue, I want it (la-la-la-la) Boy, you write your name, I can do the same Ooh, I love the taste, la-la-la-la-la All on my tongue, I want it

“Ah—shit, shit—baby, I’m going to need you to slow down. Please—we have the whole night, I just—y/n—fuck. You’re so fucking sexy—“ Against your boyfriend’s pleas, you only sped up your pace to rile him more than he already was. 

“The whole night? We’ve been at this for three hours baby. I think I’m gonna tap out here soon. Aren’t you tired?” 

The devilish grin that immediately rose on his face at your confession confirmed that no—he was not tired or if he was, he still had enough energy to keep pumping in to you. You were currently bouncing on his cock; sinking up and down on him like it was your life duty to do so. 

Your walls were clenched around him deliciously; his hardened length filled you up to the hilt with every thrust. The tip grazed along your nub; flicking it with every pump and it was quickly driving you to the brink of insanity. Honestly, you didn’t think you’d find yourself in this position tonight. 

The two of you were exhausted beyond belief; you were at school since six in the morning up until four in the afternoon earlier today. You had finished two midterms and one very important exam you’ve been studying almost an entire month for. Tired wasn’t even a good enough word to describe your current state. 

Your boyfriend was just as much in bad shape as you were. His boss had him doing multiple errands today on top of completing his own assigned work. He only arrived home a little over an hour ago. When you heard the front door of your shared apartment gently open, you had to prevent yourself from running towards him and embracing him with all the power you had in your tiny body. 

You were confident that he was probably worn out and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. From previous experiences, sometimes your boyfriend would go straight to bed upon arrival—being too fatigued to care about eating or taking a shower even. 

Although you were just as tired and in more or less words; overworked to the bone, seeing your boyfriend slumped while his dark circles grew more and more prominent every day, you mustered up enough energy to iron his clothes for the next day, prepare the clothes he’d wear to sleep, pack him a lunch and even get some of his toiletries ready if he felt like wanting to rinse off just a bit. 

To your surprise, as soon as he made his way towards you—before you could even open your mouth to ask your boyfriend how his day was, his pretty, heart-shaped lips that you loved so much were fervently smashed against yours. He gave you no time in preparing yourself for what was to come next before he roughly grabbed you at your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

His mouth never left yours as he led the two of you to your shared bedroom. It boggled your mind that he was giving you his full attention; gnawing and sucking on your lips while he carried you to the room without bumping in to anything or tripping on the rug. Maybe he’s gotten used to doing so since the two of you have been in this exact same scenario more times than you can count on both hands. 

There were so many thoughts running through your mind and questions on the tip of your tongue—concerning the sudden affection and lust he was currently showing you, but whatever you wanted to ask him no longer mattered the second he shoved his tongue down your throat and squeezed both your ass cheeks before slapping them hard. 

“Mark—babe is everything okay—“

“Work was shit—complete and utter shit. I missed you so fucking much like I do every single day I’m at that shithole and so I logged on to Snapchat and to my surprise—and delight, my beautiful girlfriend sent me a few snaps of her pretty outfit today. Don’t play innocent baby, you knew exactly what you were doing as soon as you hit send. You are well aware of the fact that I was seconds away from calling in sick this morning and fucking you in to oblivion right against the kitchen counter when you walked out in to the living room. Ah—there was so many things I wanted to say. Don’t get me wrong, you look breathtakingly beautiful in every single thing that you wear, but my dress shirt and that pencil skirt that hugs you in all the right places and leaves little to the imagination? Tsk tsk—it’s like you wanted me to rearrange your guts tonight.” 

You looked at him in curiosity; it took you a few moments to pin point exactly what photos he was referring to. Since you were so busy today, you completely forgot about sneaking to the bathroom and taking a few pictures of yourself. This last week has been extremely busy for both you and your boyfriend—and so the thought of being intimate with him felt like a fever dream. 

Sex with Mark had to be one of your favorite activities not only as a couple, but just in general. One thing about the older boy that you admired was the fact that he was very talented in each and every single thing he put his mind in to. Baseball, volleyball, football, golf, tennis, soccer, martial arts—it wasn’t even only sports. 

Mark was exceptionally intelligent; he was one of the only people you knew that was good at both reading and math. He also could finish a Rubik’s cube in under two minutes which was quite the impossible task. Every single thing your boyfriend did never failed to impress you. However, you felt as though he was the best at blowing your mind in more ways than one. 

The older boy was extremely generous; he always bought you cute little gifts that reminded him of you, he’d pay for every single date against your pleas no matter where the two of you would go, he’d sacrifice his time and work his schedule around yours so he could pick you up and drop you off wherever you needed to go. When it came to the bedroom, he always put you and your needs first. Mark always made it his main priority to make sure you came first, that you were genuinely having a good time and overall he wanted to do whatever he possibly could to make you comfortable. 

Some days, he’d be so focused on eating you out that he found pleasure and got his full strictly by sucking on your pussy. If you were having a rough day, he’d prepare you a bath and get you all your favorite snacks in attempts of cheering you up but not before finding his place in between your thighs and dragging his tongue along your slit faster than you could actually handle. Mark was the king of overstimulation; one of his kinks was driving you crazy and not giving you a chance to do anything about it. 

He was extremely good at sex— and his body was handcrafted by God. Every single thing about him was annoyingly perfect; he wasn’t the most muscular man but he wasn’t exactly skinny either. He had just the right amount of muscle, a six pack and he was well endowed. Although you considered penises very unattractive before you met Mark, something about his was so pretty and it always made your mouth water. 

You weren’t sure if you preferred having it buried deep inside of your cunt, or filling up your throat—both felt so phenomenal. Out of all the positions you and Mark experimented in during your four year relationship, your favorites had to be doggy, missionary and the one you were currently in right now. In most of your love making sessions, Mark took the lead and dominated you—not that you ever objected. 

A dominant Mark—degrading, rough, animalistic was the sexiest Mark—well, next to jealous and overprotective which usually led to the passionate and extremely freaky sex the two of you’d have. But there were times where you would take control because Mark was the definition of a switch; and something about him submitting to you and whatever you told him to always sent your mind in a frenzy.

Mark was very vocal about how he came faster whenever you would find yourself riding him specifically because watching your breasts bounce, getting to see your gorgeous face and observing your pussy swallow his cock whole—your juices coating his entire length, the sensation was lethal. His hands gripped on your waist all but gently; you might have been the one on top but your boyfriend was a powerbottom. He never allowed you to do things on your own, especially during sex. 

“Nope. I’m like the energizer bunny whenever we make love. In fact, I could probably fuck you for a solid four more hours. I know sex isn’t everything in a relationship and there are so many other things I love to do with you—but damn, you’re a fucking dream y/n. We have sex almost every single day and it always feels like the first time. If you’re exhausted baby, you can get off. As much as I particularly enjoy and get off on the feeling of your ass clapping against my balls, I’m sure it’s pretty tiring.” 

You had to stifle back a laugh at his choice of words; when the two of you first became intimate with one another, there was a lot of laughter and playful banter in the duration of your sexy time to which you didn’t think was normal. Then again, your relationship with Mark was never normal from the start. Your relationship was the envy of a lot of the people around you. 

It’s been over four years yet somehow—maybe it was the deep, passionate love you held for one another, but you were still surprisingly in the honeymoon stage. Neither you or Mark could get enough of each other. Sometimes, whenever the two of you would tumble in to bed together, some jokes, corny pickup lines and even riddles would be thrown in while Mark would be railing you and on some occasions, he’d say things at the wrong time, but you still had so much fun nonetheless. 

“I’m not too tired, I just don’t want to be immobile for the next week. My thighs are jelly and I have work in the morning. I’ve called out three times already in the last month because you fulfill your promises of wrecking me and I’m sure my boss is aware of the fact that it’s not possible for me to get food poisoning that many times within days of each other—“

“I mean, I have no regrets honestly and if I remember correctly, you’re always the one telling me to “go faster” and to “fuck me harder daddy”—ow! What? I’m just stating the facts—“

“I know, but it sounds weird when you say it.” 

He playfully rolled his eyes before stealing a sloppy kiss from the corner of your mouth and motioned for you to get off of him. As much as you were reveling in his many wanton noises and lustful facial expressions, you could feel your legs giving out and you were in no position to be calling out sick again. At least not for another week or two. You let out a whine at the feeling of him slowly pulling out of you; you weren’t ashamed to say you were a huge fan of how it felt to be full of your boyfriend’s cock. 

Cock warming was another favorite kink of yours. Mark on the other hand, would have to mentally prepare a few minutes prior to staying inside of you. It was hard for him to stay idle—he’s told you this many times. As much as he wanted to do whatever you asked of him and wanted to please you no matter what it was you desired, the feeling of your tight, wet and warm walls clenching around him was too much. He allowed it to happen, but not for too long. He could be the one to tap out, but a couple minutes of cockwarming could lead to another round of sex and in many cases; it did.

“What a baby, can’t even go a couple of seconds without my dick inside of her—“

“Shut up, I can go in to the bathroom and finish myself off if I wanted to—“

“We all know your fingers aren’t enough to get you seeing stars princess. And that stupid dildo you bought when I was away in Taiwan last year can’t do shit for you either.” 

Thankfully, he didn’t take too long in throwing you against the bed and lining himself back at your entrance. You were seeping of your essence at this point and he swiped himself along your folds so that it would be easier for him to slip back inside. He brought his face up to your ear and his breath was hot against your jaw as he leaned in to whisper naughty words that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure. 

“Only I can bring you to sheer ecstasy. Only I can get you to see white—only I can get your head spinning. My fingers; we both know how much my fingers are one of your favorite body parts of mine.” He wrapped one hand around your neck gently, making sure to glide his thumb along your pressure point while swiping some of your juices with his index finger and bringing it up to your mouth. 

“Taste yourself baby. I want you to experience the euphoria I go through whenever I eat out this pretty cunt of yours. Well—back to what I was saying, my tongue, I know exactly how to use it as we make out, when I suck on this pretty little neck of yours or when I suck the life out of your pussy—so even if you were to finger yourself like the dirty girl you are, you’ll never reach the mind blowing orgasm only I can give to you. Now, I think it’s time I teach you a lesson for speaking out against me.” 

You bit your lip in anticipation for the excitement that was to come; whenever Mark would get jealous or whenever you were bratty and went against whatever he commanded you to do, that’s when he would fuck your brains out. How the two of you were still going at it with such a rapid and forceful pace had yet to really process completely in your mind, but you didn’t question it. A muttered groan fell from both your lips and his as soon as he found his place back inside of you. 

Immediately, he placed his face in the crook of your neck for what you were accustomed to him trying his best not to moan loudly. He dragged his teeth along the juncture of your nape before sinking his teeth in and leaving a dark love bite in its wake. 

“Mark!” 

You swatted his arm once you felt the spot begin to throb. Sure, you found it extremely sexy whenever he’d mark his territory because it proved just how possessive and overprotective he was over you but at the same time, hickeys were difficult to cover up and you were confident the purple mark would be on display for your professors, classmates, coworkers, boss and clients to see. 

“Sorry baby, I couldn’t help myself—I’ll help you put some makeup on it tomorrow. It’s just that—ugh, how the fuck are you always so damn tight? We have sex on a daily basis, you should be stretched out by now.”

“You men obviously don’t understand the anatomy of a woman. You’re lucky you’re attractive and very sweet, you’re lacking intelligence—“

“Hey—“

“Just fuck me already asshole.” 

You didn’t have to ask him twice. He went straight in to ramming his cock in and out of you. There was no time to be soft or gentle; the two of you were just moments away from your releases. You preferred the softness and romanticism that came with making love, but right now all you could think about was how amazing it felt when the tip of his cock reached your cervix. 

“Feels—“

“So fucking good.” 

Your breasts were bouncing up and down with every thrust and to your delight, your boyfriend cupped one of your mounds in his hand; flicking your nipple all but gently and earning himself the sexiest growl he’s ever heard in his life. He wrapped his lips around your other breast and swirled his tongue around your nipple—bringing the nub in between his teeth and nibbling on it. 

“Such pretty titties—so soft, so big—your body belongs in an art museum. You’re a masterpiece. Everything about you—I can’t even wrap my head around your beauty. You’re really a sight for sore eyes you know that?” 

Slowly, you shaking my brought your palm up to his face and cupped his cheek feather lightly. You brought your free hand in to his hair and softly tugged at his curly, brown locks. 

“I—I love you Mark—“

“Mmm—I love you more baby girl. So much more. Every time you say those three words, I feel like a little kid who’s crush complimented his outfit. You do wonders on my heart. What did I do to deserve you?” 

Out of no where, he lifted up one of your legs and placed it on his shoulder. This position allowed him to reach deeper inside of you which you didn’t even know there was more of you for him to reach. 

“Shit—shit, just like that Mark—“

“You like that baby?” 

You nodded in agreement fervently; he needed to know the effect that this position was having on you. Something about having him on top of you, even if missionary was a position that most people considered boring and ordinary—you felt like you were going to burst in to flames at any moment. The sound of his pelvis clapping against your ass cheeks sounded off throughout the room. It only heightened the sexual desire that already filled up the atmosphere. His grip on your lower waist tightened as the two of you grew closer and closer to your ends. 

“So tight—so wet—so perfect and all mine.” 

He brought your other leg up on to his shoulder and you could fill your orgasm right at the edge. A loud moan fell from his lips and he tried to conceal it by smashing his mouth against yours, but you only felt the vibration on your tongue as he hummed in contentment. 

“Mark—I can’t—it’s too much—“

“I know baby, I know. I’m almost there too. Can you hold on for just a little longer?” 

With all the energy you could muster, you nodded against his chest and allowed him to reconnect your lips together; his speed was relentless and with the way the bed was creaking, you knew that there was a huge chance it would break soon and you would get yet another noise complaint. Probably the seventh one in the last month. You were secretly hoping that he was closer than you were and that he was only holding on as long as possible so you both could continue your late night romp. 

Your boyfriend was a nymphomaniac; sex might not have been the most important part of your relationship, but after a long, stressful day at work, he found relief in releasing his anger and frustration on your body. Making love was even better—but it didn’t matter how the two of you were intimate, just having your skin against his and your tongue battling for dominance with his, the sensation never failed to turn his sour mood in to a much happier and lighter one. 

He was happiest being one with you. Just by the way he let go of your hips to intertwine your hands together, you were confident that he was about to cum. Whenever he was at his end, he’d stop whatever he was doing to hold your hands and leaned back so that he could get a better look at you. Seeing your fucked out state; sweat dripping down your neck and chest, cheeks flushed with warmth, hair sticking to your forehead, mouth gasping for air—knowing that he was the cause behind your beautiful glow, it brought him confidence and glee. 

Soon, you were being filled with his warm creamy liquid in spurts—the sensation of being full of his sperm was one that you still haven’t gotten used to. It was just that mind blowing. Your orgasm followed in suit just seconds after. It felt like a tidal wave swallowing you whole, you were drowning but in the best way. It was hard to describe; but it was a high you never wanted to come down from. You were speechless; there were no words to describe just how on top of the world you were currently feeling. 

Mark called it a sex high. Whenever you and your boyfriend would find yourselves tangled in the sheets, you felt like you were in another world. Maybe it was just a high off of Mark himself. He was hot; there was no doubt about it and honestly you could stare at him all day if time permitted you to. For a couple of minutes, there was a peaceful silence.

All you wanted to do was calm your rapid heartbeat and to get your breathing under control. Mark’s heart pounded against your chest and his dick that was once hard as a rock was now soft and limp inside of your cavern—neither of you moved; he was pressed up against your breasts and his head was smashed up along your collarbone. Your mind was too hazy to really feel the stickiness of his sweaty body, but if this were under different circumstances you probably would’ve pushed him off. 

Less than five minutes later, Mark leaned back enough so that he had a better view to look at you. He gently brushed back some of your hair and glided his thumb along your cheek—bringing it down to your bottom lip. The soft smile he was giving you as you placed a kiss amongst the calloused digit sent electricity through your veins. In times like these; where you were bare, not just physically but spiritually and mentally and in the comfort of your boyfriends arms, you always felt so safe—so at ease, so serene, so loved. 

You might have just did something so naughty, yet you couldn’t help but blush timidly. No matter how many times the two of you relished in your love for one another, you always felt so shy with his wandering eyes gazing all along your body. Even if he’s seen you naked at least a hundred times, you still found yourself turning red under his stare. 

A few sweet kisses were placed against your mouth as what you assumed was a distraction because as he began to nibble on your bottom lip, he slowly pulled himself out from your slick walls. The two of you groaned at the feeling of emptiness; you gave him a glare—upset that he pulled out so soon especially since you told him earlier that you were in the mood for cockwarming. 

“Mark—“

“I know, I’m sorry baby. I just want to clean you up and get us ready for bed. I think your pussy puts me to sleep a lot more often now. But if you want to take a bath, I can go prepare one for you—“ 

Something about the thought of fucking Mark to exhaustion made you giggle. Especially because moments ago, he was wanting to continue having sex for much longer. “No, I don’t think I can walk you asshole. I’ll just take one in the morning before my shift. But thank you. Am I wearing you out Tuan?”

“Yes and I’m not afraid to admit it. I think five orgasms in less than two hours would do that to someone. You’re so fucking sexy and so damn good to me there’s no point in trying to conceal my feelings for the sake of my pride. I’d shout it at the top of my lungs if I had to—I’m completely whipped for you and I have every intention on keeping it that way for the rest of our lives. Now, I’ll be right back okay?” 

With a couple of kisses against the corner of your mouth, he disappeared in to your bathroom. It was only natural for you to snicker to yourself at the sight of his cute little butt as he quickly walked over to get a warm wash cloth and a bottle of water. You decided to take that time to reminisce on tonight’s escapade. 

Every time you thought about your love making sessions with Mark, your stomach would swarm with butterflies. In the beginning of your relationship when you were just beginning to learn more and more about each other, the sex the two of you would experiment in was exciting, fun and intoxicating—not that it wasn’t like that anymore. 

But now that you were both so madly in love with one another, it was more passionate, more meaningful and a lot more desirable. You always had to be touching him and without even having to ask him, he’d always have his hands on you too. The bed sank and before you could even comprehend what was going on, a wet towel was gently being brushed along your lower body. 

He first got in between your thighs, making sure to wipe up any excess cum that might have dripped from your entrance. Then he brought it up to your navel, making sure to rid visible sweat—then finally he cleaned your folds and with the way a tingling sensation began to develop, you knew he was purposely taking his time to mess around with and to get a rise out of you. 

Right as you were about to whine in attempts to get him to stop, he got another washcloth and wiped your face. Mark was well aware of how your skincare was very important to you. He’d watch you take the time to put on moisturizer, toner and sunscreen on in the mornings and right before bed. 

It was the little things that he recognized that made your heart swell; no matter how many times a day he’d tell you that he loved you, he professed his love just a little bit more through his actions. Once he was done, he helped you put on a clean pair of underwear and one of his t-shirts—a reoccurring act of affection he did not too long after you came down from your highs. 

With a sweet kiss on your forehead, he went back in to the bathroom to prepare for bed; brushing his teeth and putting on a pair of sweatpants before taking his spot next to you under the covers. By instinct, you were pulled up against his chest and his arms snaked around your hips. He left wet kisses all along your face; making sure to steal a few pecks from your lips as he smiled against your mouth. 

“That was mind blowing as always. My pretty—pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect. What did I do to deserve you? God, I can’t believe it’s been so long since we’ve made love—“

“It’s been three days Mark—“

“Exactly. That’s a long time baby. Especially because I crave you every second of the day. I can’t get over how wonderful you are. Literally flawless. Rest up baby, once you come home tomorrow I’m having you again and again and again—“

“Oh God, how I’m not pregnant at this point is still a mystery to me. Horndog.” 

He let out the most adorable little giggle while turning your body so that he was spooning you. He’s told you many times that as much as he loved being able to see your face, he was more comfortable in this position. You were confident it was because he’d get to feel your ass pressed up against his length, but you didn’t want him feeling embarrassed if that was the real reason behind. Besides, you felt so safe and protected in this position. 

However, you’ve been contemplating on voicing your feelings about how nights would end right after you and your boyfriend would tap out from either exhaustion or overstimulation. Sure, you loved the cuddling and being held by him, but that was pretty much it. He’d kiss you a couple of times and then he’d say good night. If you both had even the tiniest amount of energy, you’d stay up and talk about whatever it was that your hearts desired. 

You wanted to kiss him for much longer than the fleeting kisses—you fantasized about spending a little more time with his soft lips on yours. Maybe he saved the makeout sessions for the bedroom. But even during sex, the kisses were hot and wild—in the heat of the moment, but you were too busy focusing on being penetrated to really enjoy kissing him. 

“Well, I mean my pullout game is the best—“

“You literally just came inside of me that’s a joke right?” 

He let out a scoff of disbelief and although you couldn’t see him, he playfully rolled his eyes. “I mean, well, you know—yeah whatever. The thought of impregnating you is a huge kink of mine. You’re stuck with me for the rest of our lives. You’re going to be the best mother one day and the cutest little pregnant lady. I can’t wait to see you swollen with my baby and I’m even more impatient in finally starting a family with you. You really are the love of my life. Look at how sappy you’ve made me. Mmm, I love you, I love you, I love you. Sweet dreams my love.” 

Hearing him confess all that he did about his love for you and the future the two of you had together—you couldn’t stop the smile from taking over the entirety of your face. Almost every single thing Mark said—no matter how naughty or straight up cheesy it was never failed to make your heartbeat increase. You were soon feeling silly for worrying about such a minuscule thing and you wished it could have been enough for you. Yet, the question was on the tip of your tongue; you were mentally battling with yourself. 

There had to be a reason why the kissing stopped once you both reached your fill. You didn’t want to seem too clingy or overdramatic—maybe you were overthinking things. Your mind kept telling you to leave it alone and that he had his reasons, yet you couldn’t stop the tiny voice in your head that begged you to continue to pry at him. Mark looked down at you in curiosity when you turned around to face him. He lifted up your chin and furrowed his brows in confusion. 

“Everything alright y/n?”

“Why don’t you kiss me more?” Your question was muffled since you were too shy to ask him out right and hid your face in the crook of his neck. 

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you—“

“I want you to kiss me more.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean? Where is this coming from baby?” 

An exasperated sigh fell from your lips and you were soon regretting actually asking him the question that’s been weighing heavy on your mind for months now. It was extremely silly now that the question was actually out there but the reason why your relationship with your boyfriend had been so healthy all these years is because conversation was one of the most important keys to making sure you were both on the same page. 

The last thing Mark wanted was for you to be uncomfortable or to feel as though you had to hide your feelings for his sake. Which is why you weren’t surprised to see him looking at you worriedly, waiting patently for you to go in to further detail. 

“Right before we go to bed, whether it’s after sex or just once we’re done doing whatever it is after we both come home from work, you give me a few kisses and then we cuddle and fall asleep. Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoy doing those things. I just—I want more. I love kissing you if you didn’t already know that by now. Kissing you is one of my favorite activities that we do because your lips are so addicting. But we only ever passionately kiss during sex and when we make out it usually leads to love making and theres really nothing wrong with that. I just wish we could kiss without having it end up or only be during sex.” 

Although the lights were off and you could barely see him, you could tell he was wearing a blank expression on his face. He continued his ministrations of gliding his fingers along your sides but he stayed silent for a few moments. You wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole; you were so embarrassed but this was your boyfriend. 

He needed to know how you felt if your relationship was going to continue as beautifully as it currently was. To your surprise, he lifted up your chin and reconnected your lips together in a very passionate kiss. His hands cupped either sides of your face and he roughly nipped and sucked on your lips; leaving you breathless as he deepened the kiss further.

It was only natural for you to smile against his mouth; you were hoping you didn’t upset him and that he was only kissing you like this to please you. You were hoping he too was finding some enjoyment in kissing you right now. As his lips continued to attack yours, he took that chance to flip you on top of your back and stole a couple more kisses before sucking on your sweet spot right below your ear. This was what you wanted; it felt so wonderful and you felt even more closer to him than you felt a little over half an hour ago with his cock buried deep inside of you. 

“How was that? By that gorgeous smile of yours and the way your lips are swollen I’m assuming you quite liked that.” You nodded in agreement and stole a few kisses from the corner of his mouth. 

“I’m sorry if I made you feel as though I’m not interested in continuing our intimacy once we’re about to go to bed. Trust me, kissing you is my favorite thing to do with you too. You drive me fucking crazy. I’ve actually questioned myself about this numerous times too but I just assumed you were tired and I didn’t want to press you in to doing something just because I wanted to do it. Plus—“ 

He led your hand down to his sweatpants and your cheeks grew warm at the feeling of his hardened cock. It never failed to make you laugh seeing as how easy it was for him to grow horny at just the simplest touch. “This is why our make out sessions lead to sex and why I was hesitant about telling you that I wanted to be more intimate with you rather than the small pecks and holding you before falling asleep myself. It’s just going to lead in to another round. God, I sound like such a nymphomaniac but I’m proud to say that I am. I got a very sexy girlfriend, who could blame me for wanting to relish in our love at least once a day? Well, now that I know how you feel y/n, I would love to kiss you more. A lot more. why don’t we experiment a little tonight and see where it leads tomorrow?” You beamed up with him and with all the energy you still had left inside of you, flipped your bodies so you were on top. It obviously riled him up and the cheeky grin he was giving you sent warmth to your core. 

“That sounds like a plan. Now kiss me.”

“With pleasure.”

[cheelduh]

How to bet your way into someone’s heart. (Highschool AU)

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Warnings: Fake weed. Poor Signora smh. Oh yes, lots of swearing. UNEDITED ASF IM LAZY BYE.

Synopsis: Childe is being an infatuated idiot, Lisa has eyes for vending machine chocolate, and Kaeya is desperately in need of a pencil. With all these distractions, there’s no way in hell you’ll be able focus on the task at hand.

This is crack.

I don’t have time.

You think as you race down the hallway, shoes slapping against the floor as you expertly dodge multiple students in your way.

Bullet. You're as fast as a bullet, because everyone around you is a blur and you don't stop, can't stop, not until you meet your target.

It's funny how one can accomplish many challenges and feats they were unable to, merely due to pressure. Pressure is a twisted ugly thing that can gnaw its way into the pit of your stomach and grow like a parasite. Pressure is a parasite that can either bring the best in you, or the worst, but at the cost of one's peace of mind.

"Move it Signora!" You shouted a warning at the senior blocking your way. There wasn't any time for you slow down at that point, and you'd risk bumping into the breakfast club's stall if you swerved to the side, sending juice flying everywhere.

Signora's eyes widened momentarily, getting the gist albeit her anger, and choosing to back up flatly against the locker.

Her lipstick nearly slips from her fingers as you swerve past, a thick gust of wind in your wake.

It messes with the hair she woke up two hours early for.

Signora plots her revenge. You still don't have time.

You nearly kick the door to your home room down, but you can't risk the perfect image your teachers have of you. So you pat down your t-shirt, take five tempting deep breaths, and tentatively knock the door.

The door opens and you're met with a young man, familiar amber pupils welcoming you.

You try not to huff and puff at the cost of your stamina. Thinking back, there's no way in hell you could have physically been that fast.

"Good morning Y/N," Your homeroom teacher gives you a small smile, moving aside to let you in. "Class is just about to start."

You check your watch, then turn to him with an apologetic tone, trying not to crack under the eyes of your classmates. "I'm so sorry Mr.Zhongli, I slept through my alarm."

Your idiot ass forgot to set one because you studied till four in the morning.

"You're like thirty seconds late, cut the shit." Beidou boos from the back, causing your stance to stiffen.

"I don't wanna hear it Beidou. If anything, you're two periods earlier than usual." Ningguang calls her out for you, but you have a feeling it's more so on behalf of a personal vendetta.

Ignoring the two bickering, Mr.Zhongli gives you the handout. "Take a seat. Do not fret over such minuscule things dear."

Relief washes over you. Your impeccable attendance is not on the line.

Childe tries to flag you down next to him but you send him a pointed glare and sit next to Lisa instead.

"You should give him a chance you know." Lisa doesn't even have to open her eyes to know what's going on.

"Please," You scoff, digging through your bags to collect your notes. "As if I have the time to fool around with a shady kid like him."

Your friend sighs in disapproval, and makes no move to take out her own notes as Mr.Zhongli begins the lecture on the Archon war.

"You should really pay attention." It bothers you that she doesn't, but then again it's not your place to tell her what to do or not to do.

"I don't need to." She yawns, blinking an eye open towards you. "I have you after all."

"I'm tired of saving your ass." You groan and pull a pen out of your pocket to get started on the exercises as Mr.Zhongli talks in the background.

The course outline contained all the topic, and you made sure to teach yourself as much as you could before class to stay ahead.

Immersed in the worksheet, you blinked away your sleep and tried to answer as many questions as you could at the moment. You didn't hear the slight shift next to you, and the change of breathing, or the rate of which time went by.

A familiar scent makes its way into your nostrils.

"Lisa. Why do you smell like mango juul juice." You know the scent from when Signora blew a mango flavoured fog in your face yesterday at lunch when you said you were hungry.

A chuckle erupts and you freeze in place. "That's because I'm not Lisa."

You blink. Once, twice, and then crane your head to the side to meet a pair of teasing cerulean eyes.

Fingers loosening in shock, the pen drops on the desk with a short thud.

You whisk your head towards the front of the classroom, and Mr.Zhongli is nowhere to be seen.

"There's no saving you now." Childe's smirk widens, and he scoots closer to you. "Mr.Zhongli had to get something from the staff room. The staff room is near the cafeteria."

"Which is also near the merch stall." You grumbled, bringing both hands to massage your temples as a headache is beginning it's reign.

"Tsk tsk. Smart girl. I'd like to add that he's forgotten his wallet in his office as well, which is in the south wing."

"Son of a..." You mutter underneath your breath, and opt to scoot further back, but your efforts are futile because your desk is in a corner.

Your next beacon of hope is Lisa, so you scan the room full of chattering students, only to find her pestering her crush, Jean.

Shit...there's nothing getting you out of this one.

"What did it take?" Is your only question, the despair starting to brew. How much did it take for your best friend to betray you?

"A dollar and fifty for vending machine chocolate."

You take a moment to breathe, calming your nerves and burying down the urge to screech. "What will it take?"

"For what?" Childe replies back innocently, and you can't believe how fast he can change masks. You almost give in.

"For you to leave me alone."

"Aww come on girlie," He whines, closing in the distance. "Don't be so cold."

What did your mom tell you that one time? Oh yes. That if you were ever backed against a wall, then just break the damn thing down.

Too bad it's figurative. You're just about ready to sock him in the face if you didn't know he was into that sort of thing.

"I'm serious about you," He says, and it sounds so real, so genuine, nearly makes you sputter. "See? I've even bought school supplies.

He unzips his light backback and spills the contents on the table.

A lone piece of paper flies out, a lighter, and a mechanical pencil with no lead that follows straight after. There's also a pocket knife that you choose to ignore.

You're not the least bit surprised.

"First of all, how the fuck are you passing this class. Second, do you really think I'm into nerds?"

"Well, considering that you are a nerd—"

"You're making things worse."

"My bad, my bad." He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "But on a serious note. I'll do anything."

You cross your arms. "I'm not just another one of your conquests Childe. It's not like I have the time. There are better things to do."

"You need to relax." He says so simply, with complete disregard as to what you are trying to say.

"I am relaxed." You reply, picking up your pen to continue your work. If he's going to annoy you, then you might as well get shit done while he's at it.

You're not wasting any more time.

"When was the last time you got a full eight hours of sleep?" His voice is soft, too soft, and it's not at all like the Childe you know.

Your pen stops momentarily, but you will yourself to continue writing. The words look fumbled, but you don't care. The best thing to do is get your work done and ignore the idiot next to you.

"C'mon, Zhongli won't be back for another half an hour at least. Let's go." He kicks the bottom of your chair to urge you.

The pen shakes in your hand, and you narrow your eyes at the paper, digging holes into poor question eight. "I'm trying to work here. Let me work." You'll say anything to get him off your back.

"Fine fine fine..." He raises both hands in mock surrender. "I'll stop bothering you."

Your ears perk up at that, and you turn to him so fast he has to hold in his laugh. "Really?"

"Yeah," Childe nods along, bringing your hopes up. "If you win a bet, that is." And they're back to ocean level.

You roll your eyes. There's always a catch. That doesn't mean you're any less interested.

"What's the bet?" You ask curiously, all your focus now on him. Just as he longed for from the very start.

He flicks a thumb towards the door, leaning closer to whisper next to your ear. "We bet when Zhongli comes back."

"Are you kidding me?" You aren't bothered at all at the close proximity, mainly because you're too tired and only care about the freedom that will come with your win.

Childe, however, is a completely different story. His heart is beating a thousand times a second, but his face doesn't show it. Not one bit.

Kaeya leans in from the seat behind you two, interested in what's going on. "Ooooh secrets."

"Shut up Kaeya." Childe and you monotonously drone in sync, still having your little staring contest.

The captain of the skating team smiles, about to ask—

"No. We don't have an extra pencil. Even if we did we wouldn't give it to you." Childe finally breaks his gaze to scare off Kaeya.

Kaeya raises a smug brow, and leans back in his chair like the jerkwad he is. "Then don't let me keep you two love birds."

That's all it takes for him to earn Childe's unwavering respect and loyalty for as long as he lives.

After the two are done creating an elaborate handshake as a mark of their newfound friendship, you decide to just forget about the handout. It's not like you're getting anything done anyways.

"Anyways, back to the bet." Childe says, resting his cheek on his fist as he stares at you dreamily. You try not to break under his gaze.

"If I win, you have to go on a date with me."

"No way in hell—"

"Then I'll bother you for the rest of highschool."

Highschool is eternity. You don't want to live through an eternity of this.

"Fine." You answer, and for the first time he sees genuine fear in your face, it makes him waver slightly. Not enough for him to pity you.

"If I win..." You trail, thinking loud and clear as you ignore the excited chatter of your classmates. "I want you to pay attention to class."

"What?" He exclaims incredulously, blinking in disbelief. "I thought you'd get me to stop talking to you altogether."

"If you're paying attention in class, you don't bother me as much and your grades go up." You grin smartly, and oh archons it livens his entire day up, and it's only nine in the morning.

"You care about my grades?" Childe bites back a smile.

"Not at all." You lie, and quickly look away. Woah the floor tile looking trippy.

He decides it's better to get on with the bet without causing you any more distress. After all, you've given him such cute facial expressions today. He's feeling quite generous.

Pulling out his cracked-as-shit latest model phone, he unlocks it and tinkers with it a bit before turning the screen towards you.

"We'll be using this to time both of our predictions at the same time. Whoever has the closer time to when he finally swings by is the winner." The rules are simply put, no room for error.

You tilt your head in confusion. "Why am I seeing a slime review?"

"SHIT!" Childe fumbles with his phone, aggressively tapping on the screen. He lowers his head and voice as if he's been through fifty consecutive hits in the face. "It's uh, Teucer's account."

"Yeah...okay." Is all you can say.

"Ok what do you bet?" He changes the topic to unfuck the situation.

Putting a finger in your chin, you think for a minute, calculating the average of all the times Mr.Zhongli has left the classroom for a considerable amount of time.

"Fifteen minutes." You're sure of it. It's like clockwork every day.

"Hmm..." Childe crosses his arms, seemingly in deep thought. "Five minutes." He places his bet, and both timers start simultaneously.

Five minutes?! Is he serious?

You laugh inwardly. This challenge is in the bag.

The sense of victory you feel dulls when your ears pick up the echo of footsteps nearing the classroom.. Both your heads snap up to the doors.

There's something scary about Childe once his competitive side comes out. "Looks like I've won." He turns to you, eyes darkening evilly.

"What? There's no way in hell a ginger is right." Your palms are clammed up, eyebrows furrowed in panic. You calculated every single variable, how could this be?

You race to the front, Childe right on your tail as the entire class clamps up. The footsteps get louder, causing even whispers to become total silence.

Then it hits you. The shitty music about getting bitches and bars playing on the other side.

The door is swung open by Childe, and you're face to face with an idiot sophomore with a speaker in his pocket.

Childe’s grin is long gone, and you sigh in relief.

The false alarm encourages the class to return back to their idle chatter.

"Scaramouche?" Childe spits, narrowing his eyes at the unamused boy. "I thought it was Signora's shift today."

By "shift" he means being a complete dickwad and scamming fake weed to students in return for their souls. It only really works on the freshmen.

The only reason the club still runs is because Signora threatened the principal with some sus pictures she snapped of him and his assistant.

"Apparently she had an emergency." Scaramouche explains, lowering the volume on his outdated beats pill. "Something about a hair appointment because she got ran into by a, and I quote "lecherous imbecile.""

You steer clear of the conversation, finding the whiteboard far more fascinating and worth your while.

A loud cough is heard from behind the kid, and you're met with a crestfallen look on your beloved teacher's face.

You go through a whiplash of emotions, becoming completely numb towards your loss.

"They were out of slow cooked bamboo shoot soup." He sighs, handing a stack of papers to Childe, who is wearing the fattest smirk on his face at his victory. "Please hand these out to your classmates Childe, and we will begin shortly."

You check down at the timer despite knowing who’s won. Five minutes and twenty five seconds. Somehow, you don't feel as dejected as you thought you'd feel.

Maybe the date will be fun. Maybe Childe isn't so bad. Maybe...you do have time to indulge in these sort of things. If he’s so hell bent on getting your attention, perhaps it’s possible that you can make some room in your heart for him.

However, all those thoughts fly out the window when Childe hands you the new worksheet.

“I hope you're ready for our date tomorrow. We'll be sparring till sundown, and after you’ll be feeding me with chopsticks." He winks, and it makes your heart flip even though all you want right now is to go to the bathroom and barf your guts out.

Feelings are complicated.

You smile back at him nauseously, tight lipped and all, then you pull out your phone, go on maps, and search for the closest cliffs to jump off of.

After he's done, Childe slouches back in his original seat with a different kind of enthusiasm, and opens up his messages. He texts Zhongli a "thank you <3".

[cotncandyboifics]

A Lovely Night: Chapter 6

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5

Pairing(s): pre-established roceit & prinxiety, anaroceit, eventual anaroloceit, eventual intruality

Word count: ~4k

Story summary: Roman's boyfriends had had a rivalry since before either of them had actually met Roman. Running a bit late to a date night, Roman accidentally gets them to start dating too.

General CW: non-detailed description of an anxiety attack, non-detailed description of physical pain, food, kissing, potentially triggering descriptions of physical bodies, swearing, caps lock, school settings, s-xual innuendos, slight description of gore(imagery), vague descriptions of anxiety, Implications of an eating disorder, fatigue, dissociation, suppression of stimming, implied heavy restriction (ED), inner monologue-style anxiety description, eating, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: Implications of an eating disorder, fatigue, dissociation, suppression of stimming, vague description of an anxiety attack, implied heavy restriction (ED), school setting, inner monologue-style anxiety description, food mention, eating, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: <<>>

...

Logan did not know what to do with himself. The past week had thrown him off his figurative rhythm far more than he could have possibly anticipated.

First, a lead actor who he'd already been trying his best not to look at - with his accursed pretty hair and handsome face and big muscles - decided to attempt to court him? Logan felt mocked. There is no conceivable possibility that such a beautiful - and might he add, quite pompous and bothersome - man would have any sort of real interest in him, romantically or sexually. He shuddered slightly. He really should have taken the apple his roommate had offered him for breakfast that morning, but it was too late now.

And wouldn't you know, just a week later, a - dare he say - equally pretty man with mesmerizing blonde curls and a cheeky smile takes an interest in him at his own school . After years and years of having never been asked out, no one having taken an even remote interest in him, not one second glance, Logan had two men asking after him in the span of a single week. Men who he found atrociously gorgeous, in fact. Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, glasses riding up his forehead a bit.

This alone would have been enough. But he just had to go into that little sewing shop for his dear friend Patton's birthday present, and that boy with the purple bangs who stumbled over his words and his feet was completely and undeniably flustered by Logan's presence. Perhaps he was simply experiencing an ego boost from his two previous encounters that week with pretty men, but he felt that the attraction the boy seemed to have for him was unmistakable.

And now here he was, pacing down the sidewalk toward the library, headed off to meet - Janus, if he recalled correctly - for their first study session. He didn't know what the hell he'd been thinking when he asked to meet Janus again, the very next day no less... perhaps he felt the need to seize the moment while it was present, or however the saying goes. Regardless, while his actions had been quite uncharacteristically spontaneous, he saw no logical purpose in redacting his decision; Janus seemed to be an individual with plentiful intellect, and studying with fellow students had generally proved to be a beneficial tactic in Logan's (albeit minimal) experience and (far less minimal) research. Meeting with Janus, even if it wound up simply being this once, should be no different.

Logan avidly ignored any simmering feelings that he wanted something more than to spend time with Janus just this once.

He was shaken from his thoughts when his phone started ringing in his pocket. He examined the screen, noting the time - 2:49 PM, he wasn't late for his engagement with Janus just yet - as he checked who was calling. It was an unknown number, but the area code was local. Logan frowned, pressing the answer button.

"Greetings, Logan Lattimer speaking."

-

Virgil was kind of panicking.

His boyfriends each happened to meet this super-cute space-nerd guy in the span of a week, and the second they'd talked to him they were all heart-eyes. Not that Virgil was complaining; the guy sounded really cute.

He knew first hand now, that he was in fact super cute . That was the problem.

Virgil's lunch break came and went, most of which he spent gnawing vaguely at a sandwich and staring anxiously at the contact card that had been in Logan's wallet. It simply had his full name and phone number on it, nothing else. He tapped it on the desk in front of him, glancing between the numbers and his own phone, set face-up beside his elbow.

And then his lunch break had ended, and he had several more hours of worrying before he had to convince himself to call Logan.

Something occurred to him, during those hours. Should he tell his boyfriends?

What would he even say? There wasn't much to tell, at least not that warranted calling them before he got home. If he was going to make any calls, there was one he was under obligation to make first. And if he were to seek comfort in them for his obligation, what would they say?

Roman was probably the lesser option; he'd been whining about Logan all week, and now that he knew Janus was meeting with him again today, tensions were especially high. He'd be no help whatsoever, Virgil was sure of it.

And speaking of Janus meeting Logan again today... that also meant no. Calling your boyfriend who was about to see the guy you were nervous to call made the situation all kinds of awkward. No, everything would be easier if he'd simply call him.

So, shaking his shoulders out a bit, he did. He stepped into the break room, grabbed his phone and the contact card, and dialed the number.

His thumb hovered over the call button for a few seconds too long. He cursed under his breath and looked away as he pressed it, bringing the phone to his ear. it rang twice, and then a slight static preceded a familiar voice.

"Greetings, Logan Lattimer speaking."

Virgil was glad he'd drew in a breath to hold when he'd pressed the call button, because he wasn't sure he could recall how to breathe properly.

"Hey, this is Virgil, um, from the knitting supply shop? Uh, you kinda left your wallet here..." Virgil managed to cough, voice not breaking as much as it could have. His chest felt cold and constricted, and he wrapped one arm around himself to fight off the burn of the icy spears stabbing through his lungs.

"Ah, hello Virgil. I am currently on my way to a separate engagement, however it should not take long. At what time would it be acceptable for me to return to your place of business to retrieve my belongings?"

"Oh, uh- I'll be here till four," Virgil stuttered a bit, surprised at how fast Logan jumped to planning mode, as well as realizing he knew the precise nature of the so-called separate engagement Logan was about to attend.

"That is adequate. I will make sufficient efforts to arrive before that time. See you then."

With that, the line disconnected, and Virgil was overwhelmed by the eerie silence of the break room. He glanced at a half-empty box of donuts their manager had brought in yesterday.

He could have said that the shop actually closed at six, and that Logan could get his wallet from Emile, but his train of thought hadn’t been screwed on properly when he’d been speaking, so he could grant himself a little slack- wait, he was mixing his metaphors now...

Suddenly, the door swung open, Emile peeking out from behind it.

"Virgil, could you get back out here? We've got a little rush," and he ducked out, gone as quickly as he’d arrived.

Virgil sighed, shuddering away his anxieties, grabbing a donut hole and popping it into his mouth before heading out to join his colleague.

-

Janus was sitting at a table set between the rows of shelves, reading pensively beneath a subtle desk lamp where Logan found him. He glanced up and smiled gently when Logan arrived, who set his things down beside a chair opposite from Janus'.

"Apologies, Janus, but I must cut our studying session short in about 45 minutes - i left my wallet at a nearby shop this morning, and must retrieve it before 4pm." Janus' eyes sparked with something Logan couldn't place, and he hid a smirk behind steepled gloved fingers. Logan gulped imperceptibly. "Perhaps we can set up another time to study as well- um, to make up for it, I mean?" He rushed his words out in a short breath, running his fingers through his hair to collect himself. Janus' smirk broadened very slightly, and Logan found himself watching the lines of Janus’ face as they shifted.

"It would be my pleasure." Janus averted his eyes for a moment, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he thought. “Perhaps we should exchange information, so that I might- so that we can settle on a proper time for another engagement.” Janus reached into his inner coat pocket, producing his phone and tapping away for a moment, before passing it to Logan. He took it carefully, recognizing a blank contact screen, and quickly entering his information into it. He handed the phone back to Janus with a tight smile, and Janus returned it, sliding his phone back into the same pocket before resettling himself in his seat more properly.

Janus set aside his book to pull out a few textbooks for their critical thinking class. "If we are cutting our study session that precisely short, that would provide me with a chance to surprise-" He faltered for a moment, tone changing, though it was so subtle Logan almost thought he'd imagined it - "a friend of mine after his shift. Now, where did your class get to in the lecture today?" He started thumbing through the pages of a particularly thick but small book, holding it by the spine with one hand.

"Ah... Professor Cauley was stopped short on page 461 when he became distracted with his electric pencil sharpener malfunctioning, and class ended a few moments later. He did inform us that the other class had made it to page 465, so if you need me to catch up to you, it should only take me a few minutes." Logan was rifling through the pages of his textbook intently, not noticing Janus' surprised expression.

Janus reached a hand out, cautiously setting his hand on Logan's wrist, just beneath his wristwatch. "Don't fret," he breathed, "it appears we share the same class period. If I recall correctly, Professor Cauley’s face went positively red with rage, and he nearly broke the poor sharpener worse as he tried to unjam it." Janus chuckled shyly through his words as Logan met his eyes, smiling after a moment.

“Fascinating. I wonder how I have not noticed you in class before?” Logan tilted his head very slightly, and noticed something swimming warmly in Janus’ eyes. They were quite a very lovely golden brown, he thought.

Janus shifted, looking down to adjust his own texts, but the smirk that was growing less snarky by the second never left his lips. “It is a rather large class. It can be easy to lose faces in the crowd. I’m not sure I can pick out more than three people with whom I share that  class if they were to pass me in the halls. But no matter.” Janus glanced at Logan’s textbook and notes, readying his pencil. “Shall we begin?”

-

Logan was talking animatedly as he hunched himself over his notes, Janus glancing up to watch his face behind its shield of deep brown bangs intermittently as he scribbled in his own notebook to (at least attempt to) keep up. Janus’ gaze was averted, however, when a repetitive chime sounded from Logan’s phone, sitting face down on the desk just beside his right forearm. He stopped mid-sentence, adjusting his posture and picking his phone up, flipping it over to view the screen. He sighed, deflating slightly, as he tapped the screen once, setting the phone back down.

“My apologies, Janus, but it appears that it is time for me to depart.” Logan stood, a colder, sharper version of himself taking the place of the one that holds a deep passion for learning. The beautiful ice crystal, despite its beauty, is still the twin of the icy shards that cut sharper than knives or spears, Janus thought.

Janus stood swiftly, joining Logan in his gathering of his personal belongings, shoveling his own texts into his own bag. “It is quite alright, I assure you, Logan.” They met eyes as Janus spoke Logan’s name, and Janus could swear he saw a subtle, blotchy pink settle in Logan’s cheeks. “I’ll be headed down Main Street, then. Perhaps-” Logan cleared his throat, glaring down and to the side at nothing in particular as he retried his statement. “I will be expecting to hear from you, Janus.” They walked side by side out the front of the library, stopping just past the doors to say their goodbyes. But Janus had a small realization, and felt the creeping suspicion crawling its way up his sides returning. He resisted the urge to shake or twitch it away, grinding his teeth a bit.

Instead of continuing to suppress his stimming, he cleared his throat, speaking to Logan. "I am headed down Main Street as well. I hope it is not out of- I hope that it isn’t inappropriate for me to ask, but...will you allow me to accompany you?" Janus asked, nearly moving to offer his arm to Logan, but deciding quickly that that was far too forward. He settled on spreading an arm out, gesturing to the concrete path before them that led to the sidewalk.

Logan offered a small smile. "That would be adequate, and not inappropriate in the slightest. I, I would enjoy your company.” A beat of silence, and Logan cleared his throat. “Just this way," and Logan set off, at an impressively brisk pace that Janus nearly had a hard time keeping up with, having been caught off guard.

They walked in stride with one another as they made their way down the street. Janus became increasingly suspicious of the scenario the closer they got to the sewing shop. From what he knew of Logan's situation, there was no conflicting evidence that would disqualify the possibility that Logan was headed, in fact, toward Virgil's workplace. Janus held his breath when they turned onto the very same block, watching Logan's body language soften as they did.

Janus took a deep breath, glancing at the sign of the sewing shop a pace or two ahead.

"Logan, there's something I wish to discuss with-"

Janus glanced at the sewing shop's sign once more as they passed, but didn't move to stop before the door until he realized Logan had done so, standing a bit stiff a few paces back.

"This would be the establishment I spoke of," Logan's eyes looked a bit hazed, vaguely pointed towards the door handle. He seemed not to have heard Janus’ beginnings of a confession. Janus’ eyebrow quirked ever so slightly.

"Interesting," he breathed quietly, and Logan met his eyes then. "Allow me." Janus reached a gloved hand out to open the door for Logan, bowing slightly as he held it open.

"Much appreciated," Logan commented, stepping through the doorway smoothly.

-

Virgil was sitting slouched behind the counter, typing random numbers into the cash register out of boredom. He was half considering going to bother Emile, but he was busy doing inventory. And besides, Virgil needed to stay behind the register in case any customers came in. One person behind the counter at all times, that was the rule. He sighed, bringing his hand to his face and tapping on the tip of his nose absentmindedly.

The bell chimed, and Virgil looked up from behind his mop of purple hair. His heart gave a few beats a bit harder than usual, and he felt his throat constrict slightly.

There was Logan again. And the whole rest of the world became background noise.

The line of Logan's mouth widened, creating a crease or two on each side. Virgil realized that not only was he staring at Logan's lips, but as well that Logan was smiling. At him.

"Hello, Virgil," He spoke softly.

"Hi," Virgil practically coughed, the scratch in his throat making it borderline painful to speak. "H-how was your, your day?" Virgil asked, pursing his lips as soon as his words had left them.

Logan inhaled, raising his eyebrows and averting his eyes from Virgil's intense brown ones. "It has been satisfactory." The door chimed again behind Logan as it shut, and Virgil suddenly recognized that there was another person in the room. A person whose presence felt immediately familiar...

"Ah, my apologies," Logan stepped to the side slightly, allowing the person to come into full view. There, with a small sheepish smile, stood Janus. "Allow me to introduce-"

"Logan, dear, that won't be necessary," Janus rested a gentle gloved hand on Logan's shoulder, and Virgil couldn't tell if he was about to pass out from gay panic or just regular panic. "We are... quite well acquainted." Janus smiled tenderly to Virgil, and Virgil's whirring brain slowed if only slightly. He was safe.

…but… was he though?

-

"Oh, is this the friend you spoke of earlier, whom you meant to come and meet? How coincidental, that we were on our way to meet the same person without either of us having any prior knowledge of it." Logan was caught up in his fascination so much that he did not notice Virgil beginning to hyperventilate, knuckles white as he gripped the counter, or the way Janus was watching, practically frozen.

But, as Logan's commentary came to a close, it was as though a flip switched inside Janus’ mind, and he quickly strode around Logan. He stepped quickly behind the counter and over to Virgil, all while nearly whispering little nothings like "oh oh oh," "hush now love," and "come here dear."

Logan's brain took a moment to catch up, and soon he was simply standing there, watching as Virgil clung to Janus' coat rather desperately. Virgil’s body shuddered in silent sobs as Janus wrapped his arms around him, tight and secure. Janus was still whispering to him, but it was inaudible to Logan now.

Logan didn't quite know what to do, and so he just stood there, feeling rather stuck for a long time. At some point, he set his backpack and the gift bag he'd gotten from this very store earlier that day down against the counter on the floor, folding his hands before him. At some point, he registered Janus giving him an apologetic look, which confused him.

And then Janus kissed Virgil on the forehead, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes. Logan thought from the way Janus was nodding softly and the way their chests moved together, that they may be doing a breathing exercise. He couldn't focus on much else, so he tried to follow along and copy them as well. 4, 7, 8. 4, 7, 8.

Sooner than later, Janus was leading Virgil carefully back out around the counter, both looking slightly worse for wear, but at least Virgil was far calmer. Janus smiled meekly at Logan again, and he still couldn't quite understand what was happening. It appeared that Virgil had had an anxiety attack, but the way Janus had rushed to comfort him so quickly, the way he seemed to know exactly what to do-

"Here you go, Logan," Virgil's voice was a bit scratchy as he reached out his hand, Logan's familiar black leather wallet between his pale fingers. Logan cleared his throat.

"Thank you," He spoke a bit more quietly than he meant to. He suddenly felt his headache flare again in full force, and had to fight not to shake as he reached his hand out to retrieve his wallet from Virgil's hands. He barely succeeded, but Virgil seemed to notice something amiss - he was watching Logan's wary eyes with some mix of suspicion and concern.

Janus, however, had been staring at the floor, and did not notice Logan's onset of fatigue. He sighed, clearing his throat softly. "Logan, I suppose you deserve some kind of explanation. One I tried to give before we’d come in, but regardless." Suddenly Virgil's eyes were on Janus, and far wider than Logan thought possible. Janus just glanced at him, nodding gently, and Virgil's shoulders visibly relaxed. "Virgil and I are..."

Janus laced their fingers together, and Logan's vision went blurry, everything around him fading to static fuzz as he tried to remember to breathe. He'd eaten more than enough today for this to be happening, surely? ...Had he eaten today? He couldn’t recall. He could always remember ... He vaguely registered Janus still speaking in the background, but he couldn't care enough to force himself to refocus. He got the jist. He and Virgil were romantically involved, and Janus was interested in nothing more than a friendship with Logan. That was perfectly fine. He didn't mind. He forced away the roiling feeling in his gut and gulped down the sting starting to tingle in his eyes, forcing himself to nod.

"Understood," He blurted, voice a bit raspy. He turned toward the door, reaching for the handle. Before he fully exited, he threw over his shoulder, "I look forward to seeing you later this week, Janus. And thank you again, Virgil." And with that, he was gone.

He made his way down the block briskly, trying to shake the haze that clouded his vision. The only thing he could think to do was go and see Patton. He knew nothing worked magic on his body like a good black coffee.

-

"Virgil and I are..." Virgil looked down as Janus laced their fingers together, and looked back to Logan, whose face seemed to have gone paler than it normally was, which was quite horrifying to see. Considering Logan was already so white that his skin tone bordered on inhuman, now it was devoid of any pricks of red coloring and looked almost like an empty tinted gray, pronouncing his cheekbones and eye bags even more so. Janus looked between them, continuing after a moment, "...we have been romantically involved for several years now, and even longer with our partner Roman, who you may recall from the community theatre? He's expressed to us that he's quite taken with you, in fact... And I know this may be a lot to spring on you right now, but I thought you deserved to know... it felt wrong to pursue anything with you romantically when we- when you didn't have the facts straight, and even regardless, it's important for you to know that all three of us are-"

"Understood," Logan cut Janus off, nodding. He didn't speak harshly, in fact his voice was quite quiet, but it was curt and forward as Logan always was, and so cut through Janus' words like a frozen blade.

Janus looked at him in awe, and opened his mouth to speak, but Virgil gripped his arm before he did. Logan was already at the door. He glanced over his shoulder, but didn’t really look at either of them. "I look forward to seeing you later this week, Janus. And thank you again, Virgil." Janus and Virgil watched as Logan walked out the door and straight down the sidewalk through the shop window.

Emile, who apparently had been standing there for at least a few moments, cleared his throat awkwardly. Janus and Virgil looked at him in unison, matching exasperated looks on their faces.

"U-um, Virgil, I was just gonna check in, see if you've clocked off." Emile wrung his wrists between his fingers awkwardly.

"Um, no not yet," Virgil bit the corner of his lip, muttering a 'sorry' as he stepped past Emile and paced quickly to the back room to clock off. Janus stared blankly at the floor where his boyfriend had just been, eyebrows knit in thought.

"You feeling a-okay there, Janus?" Emile dipped his head a bit to get Janus' attention gently. Janus blinked a few times, engaging with Emile as he re-centered himself in the present moment.

"Yes, Emile, I'm fine, thank you," Janus rubbed his gloved palm with his thumb anxiously. He couldn't think of anything to add, so Emile smiled carefully, nodding and stepping away to resume whatever busywork he needed to attend to.

Virgil was back again shortly, his backpack slung over his shoulder. He gave Janus a strange look, some kind of combination of pity and sadness and confusion. At least, that's how it looked to Janus.

"Ready to...?" Virgil gestured vaguely towards the door, leaning into Janus' personal space a bit. Janus offered him his arm, clearing his throat and holding his chin high.

"Yes, love. Let's get home to Roman."

As they walked to the bus stop together, neither had any clue what they’d say to their Prince. He’d be distraught, they were both sure, and significantly more so than he already was, which would be… intense. Janus squeezed Virgil’s hand in his own slightly, and smiled somberly at him sideways.

They’d figure this out. They always did, eventually.

Janus took his time on the bus typing out a message to Logan, Virgil watching from the seat beside him as his head laid on Janus’ shoulder. Janus settled on something simple.

To: Logan L It's Janus. I'd love to meet up to study, or perhaps discuss other things, some time this week. Let me know if Thursday or Friday works better for you.

[darkurgediary]

Two Worlds, Two Hearts: Chapter Five

Summary: News of Jareth's disappearance affects Sarah in ways she didn't expect, and brings on a new wave of conflicting emotion.

Warning(s): complicated relationships, creepy nightmare (which is all italicized so it'll be easy for anyone to skip over), and Ludo tears! If I missed anything please let me know!

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

The Labyrinth was crumbling.

Jareth was missing.

And now Ludo was crying with such an intensity the ground started to shake.

Hoggle didn’t know how much more of this he could take. The dwarf wove his way through withered hedges till he came upon Ludo, the great beast brought to his knees, thick tears streamed down his face, and a pitiful cry lurched from his throat. Sir Didymus stood before him with tiny paws rested on Ludo’s forearm. Uncharacteristically quiet in the face of his brother’s pain.

“Sarwah,” Ludo’s lower lip wobbled and he tried desperately to pull a string of snot back up his nose, when such an attempt failed, he instead wiped his face on his left forearm.

Hoggle grumbled to himself but still decided to ask, “whats tha matter with'em?”

Sir Didymus perked his ears, looking to Hoggle with a defeated express, “Sir Ludo claims to have seen young maiden over that way.”

The dwarf glanced in the indicated direction, just as he'd thought, no one was there. Hoggle even approached the area and walked around it. Like he was trying to prove to Ludo that his eyes had played a cruel trick on him. Hoggle understood it though, to a degree. Ludo claiming to see Sarah became a common occurrence over the years. Each time, it was harder and harder to explain to Ludo it wasn't real.

“If she ain't been back already then she ain't never comin' b-”

A whisper carried in the breeze and cut him off, “Ludo...” 

Curved horns raised from the ground as brown eyes widened, and basset-hound shaped ears desperately searched for the sound.

Sir Didymus behaved in a similar manner, his bushy tail swishing side to side in a blonde blur, “My lady!” 

Hoggle whirled around, eyes wide as dinner plates. He stumbled back and fell into the dirt. Gazing up at the translucent image of a woman standing over him. Tall, with long black hair, and pale-green eyes. Hoggle rubbed his eyes but still, the haunting presence lingered like a ghost in a graveyard.

If he’d been by himself he would have discredited it easier. With Ludo and Sir Didymus in his company, not even he could deny the sight of the specter before him.

“S...S'it really you?” desperation clung to his words, along with a loneliness he'd kept buried deep.

The image of Sarah looked around, confused at first, and then she saw him. 

Hoggle tried to swallow the knot in his throat as he extended a shaky hand towards her. The thin image of her flickered, and upon contact, Sarah disappeared again.

-----

“Sarah?”

She didn’t look up from the floor, focused on the arguably-ugly patterned carpet like it offended her. Sarah was at her wits end. First she had a Spriggan to deal with and now a Fiery of all things! She didn't even want to think about Jareth, Toby's claim of him missing affected her in ways she didn't understand.

Her name was called again, “Sarah.”

The tick of a clock brought her senses back one by one, slowly, she raised her head. Tired eyes shifted to the old fashioned clock nestled on the corner of the wooden desk. Sarah set her sights on the coffee table next where a teacup sat in front of her. It's contents long abandoned, the liquid just as cold as the blood in her veins. 

“You drifted off,” a melodic scratch of pencil against paper mixed with the question, “where did you go just then?”

Sarah studied him for a moment, Dr. Zakar looked more like an Oxford Professor than a therapist. His brown suit was freshly pressed and his shoes polished. Red hair slicked back save for the few strands hanging just about his brow. Black, thick framed glasses obscured his eyes so she couldn't look directly into them.

A lie would do little for her, yet Sarah couldn't find it in herself to give him the truth. Not the whole truth anyway. He would call the whole incident a wild hallucination.

“I don’t know,” She admitted. Leaning forward to drop her head in her hands with a sigh, “I’m sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

He set aside the notepad, giving her his full attention, “Another nightmare?”

“No,” Sarah managed to compose herself. Without realizing it, she started to gnaw on her thumb nail.

“Remember that my job is not to judge you, Sarah. I am here to help encourage you through your struggles. You already have everything you need to conquer them,” Zakar explained calmly, recognizing the anxious habit. “That being said, I cannot give you any guidance if I don’t know the root of the problem.”

He had a point, she couldn’t deny that. As the events of the previous night played in her head like a broken record Sarah wondered where to even begin. It all spiraled out of control in a way she could barely process.

“Last night I found out someone I knew was…” the words trailed off into tense silence. Did she mention the Spriggan and the Fiery or leave it at that? “Missing. He went missing and honestly? I don’t know how I feel.”

“It sounds as though this person left quite an impact on you, I take it you were close?” His inquiry was laced both with concern and caution, showing his condolences but not wanting to further upset her.

“It was complicated, and it was a long time ago. We were different people then. I knew him without really knowing him,” Sarah clenched her hands tight in her lap, “some part of me feels like I should be worried, like I should run through every worst case scenario. What if something bad happened? What if he’s hurt? But...”

Zakar tilted his head, “another part says otherwise?” 

“It’s been fifteen years since we last saw each other. I wouldn’t even know what to say if I saw him again,” Sarah rubbed her temples and groaned, dark brows pulling together.

The clock on his desk chimed twice.

A frown pulled his features, “It seems we’ve reached the end of our session. Though I want you to know, Sarah. You will overcome this grief. Nothing has to be resolved tomorrow, there is a lot to process, and even more to work through. Go home and paint your frustrations, or write them down. Anything to get them out.”

As Sarah left the office she noticed the air felt significantly lighter than it had before she went in, Dr. Zakar’s parting advice stuck with her. She hated how much she thought of Jareth. Even before the news of him missing, the Goblin King often dwelled in a dark corner of her mind. If Jareth wasn’t in the Underground then where else could he possibly be? Sarah started her car and focused on the road ahead.

Upon return to her apartment, the last bits of anxiety washed away as the sound of whimpers and nails against hardwoods echoed behind the door. Sarah didn’t realize how much she missed having a dog till Gwendolyn came into her life. “Hey pretty girl,” Sarah cooed once the door opened Kneeling down to greet her three legged companion. Gwendolyn was a five year old pitbull with a coat the color of caramel and big brown eyes. Sarah’s heart went out to the pup, who came from a hard life on the streets. She felt like she couldn’t leave the shelter without her.

Sarah scratched behind her ears and paused as she set her keys down on the kitchen counter. She stepped towards the half finished painting, the one she’d done the instant she woke from her dream. At first she’d been in the forest with Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus in her company. Then the forest fell into a sea of white and silver. Sarah shuddered as the details haunted her:

She descended into a broken ballroom. Once pristine chairs and tables were thrown to various parts of the room, scuffed, bent, and broken. Shattered glass and glitter covered the floor, save for a bare circle where Sarah stood in the center of the room. Dawning the white princess dress she’d worn fifteen years ago. Frantic eyes took everything in as her head whipped around. Dancers laid sprawled over one another like puppets with their strings cut. 

Except for him.

His name left her tongue barely above a whisper, “Jareth.”

Rather than address her, the Goblin King stood frozen. The dark mask with twisted horns remained against his face, hiding his eyes from her. In an unusual motion he reached a hand out for her. Though he didn’t move in the same fluid, captivating way he had before. Instead Jareth moved like an old toy being wound up for the first time in forever. A crystal appeared in his hand, and his last words echoed around her.

“I ask for so little.”

He stepped towards her.

“Just fear me,”

Another step.

“Love me,”

Sarah retreated with each advancement, eyes wide, and skin white as a sheet. Whatever defiant remark she had ready to shout at him died on her tongue. Jareth loomed over her now, her back flat against the wall. She had nowhere to run.

Forced to look into vacant eyes as he sounded so defeated.

“Do as I say and I-”

Gwendolyn whimpered beside her, gently butting her head against Sarah’s leg.

Black curtains cascaded down her back as she turned to look at her companion, Sarah gave her a sad smile and smoothed a hand down her neck, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Sarah looked back at the expression she’d been so desperate to capture. Why should she be worried about Jareth? Why did her heart absolutely ache at the thought of him cold, alone, and hurt? Her hand started to reach for his half painted cheek but something stopped her. Sarah bit her lip in wonder as the idea of calling him raised to the surface.

With a small shake of the head, Sarah covered it, and tried to bury any other thoughts of him away for the time being. She had other things to focus on. The Spriggan, the Fiery, and Toby’s growing obsession with the Labyrinth. She took one final glance at the painting, “Where are you Jareth?”

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