#at first i thought oh we know this whatever.... but damn. godamn

[hauntingblue]

21st century "et tu, brute" moment

[gummygowon]

cute relationship things with ateez!

genre: fluff (a lot)

warnings: none :)

established relationship!

a/n: i meant to post this like two weeks ago but i never finished it so consider this an early valentine’s day gift <3 ;) 

seonghwa:

for some reason, i feel like seonghwa likes to read books

with that being said, on lazy days where you guys didn’t want to get up and do anything

you guys would read books !!!

before you guys would read some were recommendations from each other on your own

and then maybe rant to each other over little details about the book like how the main character went back to their toxic ex or how the ending of a book was so bad

“seonghwa, how did you even read this?!? the stupid ass main character keeps going back to that one jerk! like does she not realize she deserves more than his ugly ass???!!!?”

“y/n, just keep reading.” 

“but hwa-”

turns out the main character got with the other woman yayyyyy!!! fuck shitty men

i don’t know how it happened but you guys started your own little book club with each other

so you guys could finally talk rant together at the same time about the book

so since you guys started to read the same book and if you guys found down time together you would read together

like, imagine it’s a peaceful friday night

seonghwa is back from work and so are you

you guys already showered and ate dinner

you’re just reading and then seonghwa just scoops you up and then puts you in between his legs with your back against his chest

and you’re like “wtf bro?”

and he’s just like, “what? i wanna read too???”

“didn’t you like read ahead tho??”

“yeah, but i wanna read it again.”

that was a fatass lie

he just wanted to be close to you 

hongjoong:

ok so, we all know that this man is hella busy all the time

mans is the leader, song writer, producer, dancer, rapper (which is why he is good at all positions)

but you were patient with him and whenever he goes days without seeing you due to his busy ass schedule he would make it up to you yk what i mean

but on the more chill days when you saw hongjoong or even the days where he was cooped in his studio (you would visit him there because sometimes you just had to see him)

you guys would just lay on the couch, just enjoying each other’s presence and not feel like you have to make up for lost time

you would be on the bottom on your phone or reading a magazine/book

then hongjoong would be at the top with his head on your stomach as he would be writing down lyrics that came to mind

killing two birds with one stone you feel me

sometimes you would show him a funny meme that you found or quote something that you just read to him 

“hongjoong, look at the way he fell!” you would be dying of laughter

and then he wouldn’t notice because he was really roped into making lyrics 

but you also didn’t see him focusing so much because you were of course laughing at the kid that accidentally got bitchslapped off the couch because of their sibling

“joongie look!!!”

“what is it?”

you would then show him what happened and then he would look at with that “you really interrupted me for this??” type of look

“i just lost my train of thought for this song because you wanted to show me this kid falling off of a couch???” 

“yes?” 

he would just bring a hand to his face and think what tf? why tf? and then slowly start laughing because of what just happened

“see, wasn’t it funny?”

“a child getting hurt isn’t funny, y/n” he would laugh while scolding you

yunho:

yunho powers im sorry for this one

alright so, it’s night time 

you guys are about to go to bed after a long day or work/school whatever

your eyes are fluttering closed because the day got you beat beat

but then yunho just kisses your face

and then you open your eyes slowly again to see yunho look like he just got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to do

like imagine a kid that just got caught drawing on the walls

that’s what his face would look like

he’s just laying there like “i thought you were asleep...”

“i was just about to...”

yunho feels lowkey guilty now because you’re awake now and he knows you had a long day

he just couldn’t resist kissing you 

you just looked so pretty and peaceful sleeping 

mans was reminded by the universe themself about how lucky he was being able to date you

like, godamn what did he do in his past life to deserve you?

ok, back to this reaction idea thing-

yunho would apologize for waking you up with his cheeks a nice rosy color

you just look at him with tired eyes 

“i’ll forgive you, if you give me more kisses.”

and yunho’s smile just lights up the whole damn room and he’s like oh? say less

so he goes to kissing your face

like all over

your nose

your cheeks

forehead

basically anywhere ok?

and you end up laughing because it tickles 

but you just want him to kiss your lips which he does 

... eventually lmao

but when he does your still laughing which causes him to laugh

he tells you “i love you, did you know that?”

and you get all flustered and shit but you still keep that playful energy around 

“i love you too, but you aren’t forgiven just yet”

which leads to more kisses :))))

yeosang:

ok so you’re now the busy one

yeosang has so much respect for you because holy shit how do you balance that busy ass schedule of yours

your homework loads were no jokes 

then to add to that you have a job which was even more stressful

it was amazing how you can manage all that and still keep a smile on your face

you also had major respect for yeosang as an idol

the industry was not a place to fuck around 

you couldn’t be happier that your boyfriend was lucky enough to have a group who actually cared and supported each other

speaking of ateez, yeosang isn’t the most touchy person in the world

you didn’t mind of course, you’re the same way

however, when he did give you cuddles and kisses you would be a blushing mess

a sort of rare sight that yeosang loved to see

anyways, one night you were busy writing those argumentative essays that you were sure that your fingers would fall off by the time you were finished

you were working on it ever since you got home from school (with the occasional food and bathroom breaks )to the time when yeosang came back from practice

you moved to your shared bed by the time the sweaty boy came home and he was surprised that you were working on one subject for so long

the stupid piece was almost finished by the time yeosang was out of the shower

however, you didn’t even notice

you were too immersed in your writing to notice

yeosang took this as an opportunity to sit behind you and wrap his arms around your waist and watch over your shoulder as you worked

and of course, he would kiss your cheek occasionally

this was super sweet gesture but yeosang but you didn’t the notice that he wrapped his arms around you

“ai yah! what the hell?” you yelled and turned around to see your boyfriend clutching his chest

“oh it’s just you.”

yeosang would give you a deadpanned look and be like, “yeah, who else tf???”

you would apologize and kissing his cheek before returning to back to work 

which yeosang would return to hugging your waist and keep his head on your shoulder

and give you occasional kisses on your cheek or neck

after that night, it became a weekly occurrence

which you loved of course, who wouldn’t love their bf cuddling them while they chased their bag

san:

i am very excited for this one

ok so, san loves playing with your hair

it’s just so much fun 

running his fingers through it or just attempting to braid it or put it into a tiny ponytail

he loved it

he would probably always play with your while you were watching tv together, sitting together in the car, or even before you guys fall asleep

then one day after san came home early from work 

you guys were chilling on the bed watching the latest k-drama that came out since san made you wait so you guys could watch it together

san was in between your legs with his back leaning against your chest 

and that’s when you decided to run your fingers through his soft, fluffy hair

that’s also when san asked you to braid his hair

“sure, what type of braid though?”

“there’s different kinds????” 

“yes, san. now pick one.” you gave him your phone that was pulled up to different types braids.

“i want the french ones. they sound fancy.”

you roll your eyes and start sectioning his hair into two sections and start braiding his hair and lightly pull on the pink strands because you know san likes his hair pulled

so you doing his hair right 

and you begin rambling about your day/week

talking about whatever interesting happened to you because you know that san likes hearing you talk no matter what it’s about

however, you were knee deep into talking about the latest drama at work that you didn’t even realize that san stopped talking

“san?”

he didn’t answer and his head would be dipping down so low you were surprised you didn’t fall over

“baby?”

san still wouldn’t respond to you 

but this time he just flipped over so his head would be on your stomach as he wrapped your arms around your stomach

“mmmmmmm?”

“nevermind love, just sleep.” 

he would respond by burying his head further into your stomach and tightened his hold around you

you kissed his head and ran your fingers through his hair which lulled san to sleep even more

“goodnight sannie.”

mingi:

you have been best friends with song mingi ever since you moved into the tiny neighborhood that you call home

it all started when your parents brought you over to your next door neighbor’s house for breakfast on a cold saturday morning 

you were extremely shy when you were little so the only thing you could remember about your first experience with mingi was hiding behind your mother’s leg for the first hour of being there and watching the young boy play with his toy cars and planes before he finally offered a pirate ship to you

ever since that unforgettable saturday, you pretty much spent the rest of your childhood with mingi

you guys were practically joined at the hip 

even when you were getting endlessly teased by your classmates for the first month of school for having an accent whenever you spoke 

which resulted in you running to the bathroom crying

not even a minute later, you heard someone burst through the girls’ bathrrom

“y/n?”

you peaked your head out of the stall to see your tall neighbor looking out of breath

“mingi, you aren’t supposed to be here!” you said in between sobs

“it’s okay, i don’t care.” he said as he awkwardly wrapped his arms around you. “are you okay?”

you shook your head no looking at him with tears running down your face

the poor boy was internally freaking out since he has no clue on how to comfort people (especially if they’re a girl)

he was like eight at the time give him a little break

so of course, his first reaction was to make you laugh somehow

and he did this by randomly recreating the “boots and cats, boots and cats” rhythm after seeing siri do it in a youtube video and started to bop his head 

surprised by his sudden movements, you laughed out of pure confusion

as soon as mingi saw the corner of your lips flip upwards he began rapping faster to the point where he was gasping for breath leading him into a coughing fit 

“mingi you can breathe, y’know!” you giggled in between words

after the young boy had caught his breath from hacking away at his lungs, he smiled at you 

until- the teacher had came into the bathroom, scolding mingi for going into the girls’ restroom

even though mingi didn’t care at all that he got in trouble, the only thing he cared about was that you were feeling better

ever since then whenever you were sad or having a bad day mingi would whip out his phone and ask siri to rap while he free-styled over the monotone voice 

he literally still does it

even two years into your relationship-

“siri, can you rap for me?” mingi would ask his phone as he pointed his free arm at you

“boots and cats-”

“mingi, please no.” you laughed in between tears, your mood rising with every beat

wooyoung:

i wholeheartedly believe that wooyoung would kiss you face if you were sad

but the first time this happened, you guys were still fairly new into your relationship

which meant that you weren’t completely ready to be extremely vulnerable around wooyoung 

because in your mind, letting someone see you at your lowest lows of means that you really trust and love someone to let them see you like that

you always wanted to be known as the strong person in the friend group

you were that glue that held everyone together

always listening to others and taking care of others before yourself

which is why wooyoung fell in love with you in the first place

he had never been in a relationship where someone was so caring and thoughtful of others that he was scared that he wouldn’t be enough for you and that you deserved better

of course, he didn’t tell you that right away but he confessed to you about that wayyy later in your relationship which is another story to be told

but one day, life was coming at you so fucking fast

assignments were piling up left and right and deadlines were literally every other day

and then there seemed to be an increase in the amount of angry karens at your work

and your patience was thinning everyday with those people

then to top it all off, all the tests you’ve been studying for, you got mediocre grades, some even worse in other subjects

it just felt like no matter how much work you put into whatever you do, you got half ass results

it was just pushing your mental health further into the ground

you could handle a C every once in awhile but multiple? on back to back tests? no fucking way you just couldn’t

those stupid, dark thoughts would cloud your mind in an instant and on days like this, you would just let them consume you

you were too tired to pick yourself up again and fight back which led to you crying in wooyoung’s arms

usually, you would feel so embarrassed crying over things like this when you know other people have it worse but you couldn’t hold in it anymore 

you ranted about yourself in between your hiccups from crying which would hurt wooyoung’s heart a little bit

because he thought of you as such a strong and kind person- the complete opposite of what you were saying about yourself

so when you were done talking, wooyoung made you look at him and assured you that you were not any of those nasty things that you said about yourself

each insult turned into a thoughtful compliment accompanied by a kiss

“y/n, you are so intelligent-” 

kiss

“caring-”

kiss

“beautiful-”

kiss

“more than everything i ever wanted”

kiss

by the time wooyoung was done, you were a giggling mess

“and this is why i love you.”

he finally kissed you on your lips, smiling into it like the dork he is

it was the first ever time he told you that he loved you

jongho:

i am also a firm believer that jongho would sing his s/o to sleep

like with that heavenly voice of his, he better put them to sleep 

so on the first night you ever slept with jongho, you were too nervous to go to bed even though your body was screaming at you to close your eyes 

you kept tossing and turning every few minutes or your eyes would shoot open with your heart racing

at this point, you gave up on trying to sleep and got up (carefully to not wake up your sleeping boyfriend) to get a drink

while you were in the kitchen, clutching your chest in an effort to get yourself to calm down, jongho had stirred awake to an empty bed

a flash of panic surged through his body as he momentarily forgot where he was since he wasn’t at his dorm his room never looked this clean 

yawning, the vocalist would wander into the light with his eyes squinted, “y/n?”

“oh my god!” you jumped, water almost spilling out your glass

jongho covered his ears, “what are you doing up?”

“oh,” you felt your cheeks turn red since you felt bad for waking your boyfriend up. “i can’t sleep.”

“why?” he asked, walking towards the couch.

“i don’t know.” you answered as you followed close behind. 

you curled up next to jongho, clutching his shirt “i’m sorry for waking you up.”

jongho smiled tiredly at you before kissing your head, “don’t be. it’s okay. i don’t have work tomorrow anyways.”

you smiled in response before the two of you guys fell into a silence

“do you want me to sing you to sleep?”

“yes, please.” you murmured into his side as jongho placed his other arm around you, successfully trapping you in between his arms

he began singing softly into your ear as he stroked your hair

his warm voice coaxing your eyes to close 

at last, your mind was at peace with itself

your heart beat slowing down

and by the time the song was finished you were fast asleep in arms

jongho kissed your forehead once more 

“i love you.”

[shadow--writer]

I Heard That you Fell in Love or Near Enough

hm yes TITLE :D (mmmm slowed my beloved). Look a way longer chapter because we’re setting up some fun foreshadowing and I just went nuts with internal dialogue. So much fun with this lmao. It’s v chaotic 

Maeve x Lucas. From bad to worse. 4.5k (we arent gonna TALK ABOUT IT)

TW (more squicky than anything): mention of blood, robbery, LOTS of language 

@dela-png

To say today was a terrible day was the understatement of the century. 

First she didn’t get any sleep due to some noise going on close by. Of course it had to be loud on the first day she was actually willing to sleep in mm say...two three days? So she was even more irritated in the morning. 

Then of course after eating she went downstairs and screamed so loud she broke her soundproofing charms.

Fan-bloody-fucking-tastic.

She kicked at the broken pieces of what used to be one of her tables. Looked like someone took a running jump and broke it. 

And to top it all off she had been robbed. 

She let out a frustrated yell, muffling it by biting down on her knuckles. 

“Gods and stars fuck,” she snarled, stomping her foot once as she tried to think things over. There was paint. 

There was paint everywhere.

And don’t even get her started on the blood.

Bloodied handprints! All over her front door! Smeared along with the paint.

“And what the fuck is with this W?!” She spun to look at her back wall, palms open. Blue paint. Like her tattoos. She rubbed her arms as she moved closer to look at it. 

Crescent spots. A W. What was this? A threat? 

They left a calling card of course it was a threat. But why against her? Did she do something? Not that she remembered. 

Was it to get to someone?

But who? She had cut off everyone who tried to get close besides the kids. And she doubted someone would go to...these extremes to get back at a child.

Maybe she did something. 

But even if she did, what did these even mean? Wouldn’t it be more effective to threaten someone who recognized the markings? 

Ugh it was giving her a headache. 

She moved to her trashed backroom, grabbing a cleaning bucket and a rag. Taking the green handkerchief from it’s hook and rolling up her sleeves she knew it was going to be a doozy of a day. 

And of course, with her luck, her lucky stars, it got worse. 

~~

She collapsed against her counter, now covered in blood and so much fucking blue paint. They had painted those damn animal print spots all over her fucking clinic. 

AND they had stolen the medicines she kept locked up! Including the herbs she made them from!

Oooh if she ever got her hands on the thieves she was going to make them regret laying eyes on her clinic. String them up she would. Might even skin them like a fish if she was in the mood. 

Oh great she’d have to go to the market as well. Sure she was now out of food. She had been meaning to go. 

But fucking hell did she not want to. 

She adjusted the green handkerchief (it...stopped smelling like him), cleaned her paint stained hands down the front of her skirt and steeled her nerves.

Oh she hated going to the market for many many many reasons.

Reasons she was not going to go into.

Grabbing her basket and muttering to herself angrily, she slammed the door to her clinic shut, locked it and then stared. 

“...they’re going to come back. Dipshits won’t stop. Not after one night,” she huffed, resting her palms on the door.

Locking charms. Right. 

Aislin taught her this one. 

Breathing in and holding the air, she willed her magic to life. A gentle warmth settled across her skin, small locks appearing at her fingertips. This didn’t take energy from her, she pulled from the air around her. Aislin’s magic was more wind and air stuff so this was easier for her younger sister anyways. Much stronger than Maeve’s locks. 

Speaking of, thank goddess her charms held. She didn’t know what would’ve happened if whoever stopped by had managed to get into her house. 

Stepping away to admire the fading glow on her door, she nodded, satisfied. There. Those would have to do. She might need to update her soundproofing charms though. 

Who knew the neighbors didn’t like it when patients screamed? The things you could get away with back home. 

Stepping away from her clinic she made her way down the street. 

Maybe if she tried a disguise spell so she wouldn’t be bothered…

No, that wouldn’t work. She was shit at disguise spells. No one in her family was good at them. Last time her Seanmháthair tried she grew a fake beard and it didn’t go away for a week. 

...fine she would just suffer then. 

It’s not like once she got there anything could possibly get worse. No sir. Only being fucking robbed and then having to deal with the market. 

All she had to deal with for today. 

Letting out a sigh she walked into the market. It didn’t take her long to start gathering medication and plants. Of course they were backwater stalls. 

But it’s always been like that. 

Feeling a bit lighter she started to hum as she went through her mental checklist. Still didn’t have aloe, the asshats stole her entire fucking plant. 

...she also didn’t have anything to make lunch.

Great. 

She opened her eyes, turning around to go look for something to eat, letting out another small sigh.  

And there was Lucas. 

She choked on her sigh. 

Why oh why did he have to be there today of all days. She couldn’t even go back home! She needed something to eat (thinking about it now she hadn’t eaten in quite a bit) but noooo. 

So why did all those stars and spirits above decide today would be a good day for him to come to the market as well?

Sometimes she wondered if some deity had it out for her.

She turned to quietly sneak away.

“Thumb- Maeve?”

...oh fucking fuck. 

She forced a smile, slowly turning back around. Mmmm so this was how today was going to go. Fucking fantastic. “Giiiiant.”

...too informal, too informal. Abort mission.

He flinched a little at the nickname. Ah yes, this is definitely how she wanted her afternoon to go. This was perfect. So wonderful. 

She was going to fight whatever star had been assigned to watch over her and her fate.

“What are you doing here?”

Wow it wasn’t obvious? “...shopping. What else would I be here for?”

“Shopping for what?”

Oh she did not like his tone. Her eyes narrowed. Her basket swung off her wrist as she placed her hand on her hip. Sure maybe snapping at a seven foot tall man who was still fairly hurt and mad at her (for good reason) was not the smartest thing she could’ve done but…

She was in a terrible mood and ready to just go home and call it a day. Of course after she actually got what she needed for dinner. And actually eat something.  

“Do I have to tell you anything?” she huffed. “I am here to get something to eat for dinner and herbs to make more medication? There? Is the marketplace police happy?”

His eyes widened. “O-Oh! Didn’t mean to come across…” The softness and the...actual innocence of the apology sent her reeling. Then, as her luck would fucking have it, he seemed to remember he was still mad at her. “...sorry.”

She rolled her eyes, moving to look past him. Fine. This was fine. She just needed to get something for her to eat. Maybe something for Tehi. The old bat would kill her if she went hungry. 

Maybe she herself could deal without dinner. 

Her mood soured even more when she spotted mortal enemy of Maeve #1. 

The fruit stand guy. Malory. (it was a very unfortunate name)

Malory’s eyes narrowed when he spotted her. “Well well well, if it isn’t the little thief.”

She shifted away from Lucas, glad she now had someone to direct her building frustrations to. 

“I am no thief, you just want me gone!” she sneered, glaring at him. “You accuse me of taking things and then try and get me arrested! Every time I come here! Without fucking fail! Aren’t you tired of it?!”

“I will never be tired of it until I see the likes of you behind bars!”

“Unfuckingbelievable!” She threw her hands into the air. “I am not a thief! It was an accident. Tehi was hungry and I paid for it!”

“Your little bat has it out for me! And her owner is no prize either.”

She gasped in offense. “You fucking dickjerk ASSHOLE!” Her footsteps were loud to her ears against the rush of blood. Oh he got on her very last nerve. EVERY TIME! She jutted a finger at him as she growled. “I. Did. Not. Steal. Your. Shitty. Merchandise!” Well that was a half lie. His produce was quite good. 

It’s why Tehi stole from him so much. 

All too bad the guy selling was a balding old man who had it out for her. A vendetta! 

“Malory you are a slimy weasel who has no idea what he’s fucking talking about! Tehi was hungry. I caught her and I paid for the few grapes she had stolen. What else do you want?!”

“For you to go to jail!”

She was on the verge of fighting him. 

This close. 

“For the last time,” she snarled, stomping closer as she felt her skin heat up with her rage. She slammed her hands on the counter of his stall, opening her mouth to snap back. The others around went quiet with the show they were getting. She. Was. Going. To. Kill-

The ground under her feet was all of a sudden not under her feet. 

And she was thrown over someone’s shoulder. Like a sack of flour. 

“Put me down! I demand it! Right this instant!” she yelled, smacking the back of the person who had picked her up. 

Gray shirt. 

Oh fucking hell. Today was just not her fucking godamned day. Maybe if she became a hermit things would go her way in the luck department. 

“Lucas set me down!” 

“Maeve as angry I am with you I don’t want to watch you murder someone and then get sent to jail.”

“Well he would fucking deserve it!”

“Murder is still murder no matter how much he deserves it.”

She sulked, propping her face up with her hand, elbow resting on his back. “I thought you hated me.”

“It’s broad daylight. Very least do it at night.”

“Killjoy.”

She and Malory glared at one another. “Fuck off,” she sniffed, lifting her hand in a very vulgar gesture. 

“Maeve!”

“Guards! Guards! These two stole from me!”

“FUCK YOU TOO, MALORY!”

“Maeve!” 

She kicked her legs. Didn’t Lucas like, hate her? This was the first time they saw one another in weeks and it was a total fucking accident. 

“Put me down!”

“...you’re going to give the guards a reason to arrest you if I do.”

“Yeah? He would FUCKING DESERVE IT!” She yelled the last part at the fruit vendor, still flipping him off. “Droch áird chúgat lá gaoithe! Go mbrise an diabhal do dhá chois! Go ndéana an diabhal dréimire do chnámh do dhroma!”

“Maeve what the hell are you saying?”

“Droch chrích ort! Droch chrích ort!” she said, waving her arms. “Go dtuitfeadh an tigh ort!” 

“Maeve I have no idea what you’re saying but watch your language.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” she said, sticking her tongue out. “If I want this asshat’s house to fall on him I will tell him such!”

“...you said what?”

“You heard me! Go dtuitfeadh an tigh ort! Fucking bastard.” She sneered at Malory, who was still calling for the guards. Who were coming around.

Quickly. 

Ah fuck. 

And goody for Lucas, he was now an accomplice. 

Meaning she wouldn’t be able to get rid of him. 

Though judging by how people gave him a wide berth it wouldn’t be the absolute worst thing. Maybe she’d actually be left alone. (but why did people look so skittish? And then there was the anger? What the fuck did he fucking do?!)

“...shall I escape with you or do you want me to leave you behind?” He was still hurt. She could hear it.

But this was a short truce. 

She sulked, falling limp. “Fine. Carry me away. Just to a hiding spot. You can hide in one of the alcoves down the street if you hurry.”

“...thank you for the tip.” His voice was just dripping with sarcasm. 

“Well I’m sorry if I do this every other week and know what I’m doing!”

“You’re also tiny! You think I can fit in an alcove?”

“Fine! Don’t listen to me! Just set me down and let me get arrested! Save yourself.”

“You know I’m not gonna do that.”

“Oh you hate me anyways,” she groused, her filter was coming completely off as he moved quickly through the market. Guards shouted after them as he dodged the crowd. “Why not just abandon me?”

“Stop being dramatic, I'm not abandoning you.”

“Hmph you didn’t even touch the hate me part.”

“Just because I’m saving your ass doesn’t mean I’m not mad.”

“Ah! So you do hate me!”

“I never said that.” He didn’t elaborate, only tapped his fingers lightly on her thighs. 

She squirmed. “Hey buster watch the hands.” 

“Nervous tic.”

Even with his defense he didn’t stop. Little bastard. 

She kicked her legs a little as he ducked into an alleyway. It wasn’t what she recommended but oh well. 

“Hey stop that, you’ll get us caught,” he huffed as she tried smacking his nose with her heel. He shifted out of the way. 

“Put me down.”

“If you promise to be quiet I’ll put you down.”

“...fine.” She didn’t promise. 

He set her down, she huffed and dusted off the front of her skirt. 

“Malory is a fucking dick,” she muttered. 

“I thought you promised you’d be quiet.”

She stuck her tongue out at him again, getting more irritated by the second. “I never promised that. Only said ‘fine’.”

His eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms. “Don’t be a child.”

“I’ll have you know,” she snarled, pointing a finger at him. He almost went cross eyed staring at it. “I have had the shittiest fucking day today and seeing you has done nothing to improve my mood or overall day so thanks a fucking lot.”

“...you’re really going to blame me now?”

“Well I do not appreciate being picked up and thrown over your shoulder when I had the situation under control.”

“You were going to kill him.”

“I was and as I’ve said many many times; he would’ve deserved it.”

Lucas seemed to weigh what he would say next. She huffed, staring up at him with her fists at her sides. Damn him and his height. She was going to strangle the person that decided making him this fucking tall was a good fucking idea it made fucking arguing with him or even just ranting a pain in her neck. Literally. 

“Ugh!” she yelled, standing on her tiptoes to be at least a little taller. 

God fucking damnit she was just BARELY up to his shoulders now. He looked almost amused as she puffed up her chest a little. 

“You listen here buster,” she snarled, shifting so they were chest to chest. “I have had it up to here with the BULLSHIT I just had to put up with today!” 

His face was red.

Why the fuck was his face red?!

Excuse you sir, she was in the middle of a RANT here. 

And he was still fucking mad at her for the shit she pulled. Yeah sure it was to protect him. Yeah sure she should not be as close as she was to him at that moment. She should also not be ranting. She should also not have been robbed didn’t she lock her doors?!

Also why the fuck was he still adorable when blushing?! Unfair! She was calling bullshit! She was supposed to be distancing herself and her feelings to not feel attracted to him. But nooooo the gods and stars above just had to bless him with being so fucking adorble she wanted to kiss him. Oh stars and spirits she was not going off on a fucking mental tangent about wanting to kiss him. That was not going to happen.

Even though she was close enough to. 

Gods why did everything have to be so fucking complicated?! 

That’s it she was going to fight someone. 

“Hey! Are you listening?” she asked, they were now chest to chest. She was off kilter with being on her tiptoes, back arching to get a good look at him. God fucking- height. 

She growled, settling back down onto her heels. He pursed his lips to keep from laughing and that was it and that was the last straw.

She pulled him down by his ear, hissing through her teeth. “You listen to me here Lucas whatever-the-fuck your last name is.”

“K-Karimov.” He stumbled a little with the weird angle which she was holding him in. But somehow, the filter was off and so was her ability to care. 

“Thank you. You listen to me here, Lucas Karimov. I do not want to be stuck in this alleyway with you anymore than you want to be stuck with me. Today has had it OUT for me the whole fucking day!”

He seemed to hear something but she was too caught up in herself fuming to notice. “Maeve-”

“And don’t get me fucking started on what happened to me this fine morning-”

“Maeve!” He shifted out of her grasp. 

“-with my clinic and the mess I had to- MMPH!” He slapped his hand over her mouth, shoving her roughly against the alley wall, caging her in between his legs and resting his elbow beside her cheek. 

“Shut up,” he whispered, looking over his shoulder. 

She watched the guards run by their hiding spot, yelling about hearing something. 

His face was so close to hers, his breath tickling her ear as he murmured to her. “You’ll get us caught.”

She glared at him over his palm. He wasn’t looking at her. Her brows furrowed as she squirmed, but he held firm. He didn’t let go of her even as the guards disappeared. 

So she took matters into her own hands. 

Or well, between her teeth. 

So she bit down on his hand. Hard. 

He pulled away with a yelp. She scrubbed at her mouth with the back of her hand as he nursed his wound. 

“You...you bit me!”

She placed her hands on her hips. “You needed to let me go!”

“You bit me!”

“Indeed I did!”

“What put you in such a sour mood?” he muttered, rubbing the bite gently. 

“Hm? Bad mood? Me?” Her eye twitched a little. She was so done. She was actually ready to sleep for a million years. 

Fuck the nightmares he was starting to star in she was done. 

“Yeah! Me getting fucking robbed was great to put me in the best of fucking moods!” she snapped, pacing around the small space of the alley while she waited for the clear. 

She shocked him into a stunned silence. “You were...what?”

Her head whipped around and her eyes were deathly narrowed. Absolutely done. 

“Heavens and stars are ya deaf?” Oh no her accent was coming out. Fan-fucking-tastic her accent was coming out. “I was fuckin robbed! So I was not put in the bestest of moods today so you get to see me when I’m irritated. I know! I’m so fucking fun aren’t I?”

Who would’ve guessed having her clinic trashed and her things stolen then having to deal with both LUCAS and MALORY would put her in such a sour mood that she didn’t even care if half of her words were clouded by her accent?! Oh and being handled like a sack of potatoes REALLY added to it! Then being pinned…

Hmm okay being pinned against the wall by Lucas wasn’t the worst thing to happen to her that fine day. 

Even so she felt the tiniest spark of pride at biting him. 

Was she guilty over that? Surprisingly no.

Check back later. 

“Who...who robbed you?”

“Shit if I know! I’m sure that weird thing I found was a fuckin callin card though. Why do you care?”

“Calling card?”

“It was a pain in the fuckin ass to clean too! I don’t know where the hell they got all that blue paint to paint my entire back wall but they fucking did it! And then leaving the weird stains on my door. Blue and I don’t know probably blood. All and all it was fucking disgusting.” 

“...blue paint? What did they paint?”

She rubbed her temples. She did not have to share this with him. She did not have to share this with him. “Some weird crescent spots and a letter. Took forever to clean.”

Annnd she shared it with him.

“Spots? Letter?”

She cracked one eye open. “Yeah. I think they were either leopard or cheetah spots. Letter was a fucking W. And then they tried to break into my house and left bloody handprints! I had quite the scare this morning.”

All the colour drained from his face. 

“Blue...cheetah marks?”

“Did you just...ignore everything I just said? Yes! And blood! Like everywhere! They tried to break into my house and I don’t know why I am sharing this with you I should not be sharing this with you and I am going to regret this later but oh well I have no filter and I’m rambling.”

There was a slight anger swirling in his eyes. Barely contained. 

Even with how pissed she was it spooked her. 

What did he have to be angry about? 

“Were you hurt?”

“Does it look like I’ve been hurt?” He crossed his arms. She threw her hands into the air. “No! I have locking charms on my door. I didn’t hear them because of the sound proofing charms I have on my clinic and above that in my flat.”

Why the fuck did she just mention that?!

And she kept fucking going. 

This was it. 

If he didn’t hate her before because she rejected his kiss (like a fucking MORON. She did have a good reason for it (at least to herself. She was such a liar) but why oh why did she have to break things off with him. Granted if she kissed him that would’ve made things so much worse even though she really wanted to kiss him holy fuck she wanted to kiss him why was this hitting her now of all times when he was so close why was he so close and why did he look so scared and so pissed?!) he would definitely hate her now. 

Nice fucking going O’Connor. You did it. Messed up one of the only good relationships you’ve had in a while not just once but twice. 

Give the girl a medal. 

“Do you need help cleaning it up?”

“My tables are broken and I need to fix them and set them up again but I cleaned up this morning. All my medications and herbs were stolen. My tools. Stolen. My clinic? Fucking wrecked. Fruit stand guy? Tried to get me arrested again. You? Pick me up like I weigh nothing. So yeah. Having a great fucking day today.”

“...you are scary when irritated.”

“Oh and you barely scratched the fucking surface. I. Am. Going. To. Kill. SOMEONE!”

“Calm down Maeve the guards could hear-”

“I am not going to fucking calm down. I have bottled up everything for too fucking long. The only time I could sleep in peace was fucking ruined by my neighbors being obnoxious. And they bitch about me. So no a ghrá mo chroí, I am not calming down! You haven’t talked to me in weeks and now that you do you tell me how to feel and no. I am so done! I am done with you, I am done with Malory and I am done with the shitty fucking gods who decided creating me and giving me my fucking luck was a good fucking idea!”

Hold on. 

Did she just say that nickname out loud? 

The hurt on his face let her know that she did, indeed, say that out loud.

And he was taking it in the entirely wrong direction.

“...sorry.” His tone was deathly soft. 

Ah great.

Third times a fucking charm. 

“I...didn’t mean for it to come off that way. But you don’t need to curse me in another language.” Great, she hurt him again. As per fucking usual. 

Maybe he was right by calling her a trainwreck. Useless without him. 

Her voice cracked a little, hoarse from yelling. “Lucas-”

“The guards are gone now. I’ll...see you.” He was angry with her. 

Gods...fuck. 

“That's not what I-”

His expression was a mixture of hurt and anger. “I get it. You don’t like seeing me anymore. I was too...too much. Too much too soon. I understand. I overstepped again and I’m sorry.”

She brought her hands back to her chest as he moved out of the alley. “...if you go to your right and then down the first alley you should avoid the guards,” he whispered. “Get home safe.”

“Lucas I didn’t-” But he was gone. 

Her hands shook with both the raw snapping hurt of his words and just even more anger. 

“I didn’t insult you,” she snarled to the open air. “I said some dumb fucking shit by accident...a ghrá mo chroí.” It felt...right to say.

Because it was true.

He was her heart’s beloved. 

Even if he was a fucking dumbass. Shit, she was a fucking dumbass. 

Maybe she didn’t deserve love. If this was how it was going to treat her, maybe it was better if she just was...alone! 

Once again Maeve was off by herself. 

Hurting people she really liked because she couldn’t keep her dumb mouth shut. 

She muttered to herself as she picked her basket of new (if she found the perpetrators she was going to whoop their asses) medications and plants to make medications. 

Fan-fucking-tastic. 

She followed Lucas’ instructions after she ran into the guards on her normal way home. 

Damn you Malory you asshole.

With a sigh she arrived at her doorstep. His way added ten extra minutes to her walk. How fun. 

She peaked inside the clinic to see if anything else was destroyed but it was...cleaner than when she left it.

Her tables that had been turned over were set up again. There was paint and blood all over the tops of the tables but...they were up again. 

She ran her hands along the grooves, looking around. 

She stopped when she saw a small cloth bundle sitting on her counter. The string was a ribbon, and it was tied into a messy bow.

Her earlier bashes slowly dissolved as she stared at it. 

And that one lone butterfly fluttered to life. 

[kn1ghthawk]

Equipped Companions

Piper: “Oh blue, a violin!” VIctor: “Not quite, open it up.” Piper: “Its um, it’s a gun.” Victor: “Not just that, I got it from cricket. They used to be called ‘Chicago typewriters’ so I thought of you. This should do more than your pocket piece.” Piper:  “ummm. Thanks, i’m glad you thought of me.” Victor: “Now, put the mag in, look at the wall down there, and think of mayor Mcdonaugh.” Piper: “Did you buy home plate just for a shooting gallery? Fine, fine...” *Rat-a-tat-tat* *Boom-BOOM-BOOM* Piper: “...Okay, that was fun.” ***** Cait: “Da-hell you bring me to a feking gravesite for?” Victor: To give you something. Cait: Hate to tell you, love, but ain nothing romantic about a gravesite for gift giving.. Ah fuk this is it, isnt it? One more unmarked hole in the ground for me? I’ll Fucking-... the hell is that? Why is there a fucking bow on a coffin ya creepy cunt?!?” Victor: “Its not like that, now you better go look in the box before the ghouls wake up.”  Cait: “You stupid slagging- What in gods name is this? its bigger than me!” Victor: “Its called “Adams judgement”, from the nucleus in far harbor. Now you might want to get using it.” Cait: “Christ almighty, the fucking kiddie-cultists?!? It wont blow up will it? I’m gonna be green as the wall by the tomorrow.-” *SZOOSH-PLORT!* Cait:“Oh, Fuck the hell, yes.” ***** Hancock:” Oh, is it my birthday? Ah hell. why not, happy birthday to me! Victor: “Go ahead an open it.” Hancock: Woah, Talk about some serious hardware. Son, I appreciate the though, But I ain’t using no fatman. Too much collateral damage. Victor: “Trust me, try it, aim for the triggermen around the corner.” Handcock: “Not the usual reason people take me behind a back alley, but sure, whatever floats your boat.” *FOMP-placrunch!* Hancock: “Is that- was that a godamn bowling ball?!? Oh, we’re gonna have a BALL now!” Victor: “Is the pun as painful as the weapon?” ***** Danse: Yes, sentinel? Victor: Danse, I wanted to reward you for your service. You gave me your rifle when we cleared ark-jet, now is my chance to return the favor. Danse: That isn’t really necessary, sir. Victor: If anyone should have become sentiel, it was you. Please, take it. Danse: This is... an institute rifle. Sir, they are notoriously underpowered compared to standard Laser rifles. Victor: I know, but I got this from Virgil in the glowing sea. Now lets take a look at that behemoth in the water. Danse: Reports name him as ‘swan’ probably from the boats in the pond. Sir I don’t think this is sufficient. Victor:  OPEN FIRE! Danse: “SIR!” *Pachow-pachow-pachow* Danse: That was... Highly effective. Victor: And cathartic too, I bet Danse: “Yes, sir.” ***** Preston: You wanted to see me, General? Victor: Yes, come in Colonel. Preston: Um, Sir, I’m only a captain. Victor: Not any more, with everything that has happened, you have proven yourself to be as capable if not more-so than Colonel Hollins. And as I’m the general, I can promote you as I deem fit. Preston: That is your prerogative, General. Victor: While I cannot fit you with a new uniform. I can at least outfit you with a new rifle. Its not the musket you are used to, but it will Suffice.  Preston: This is heavily modified, sir, I don’t think I deserve such a fine weapon, where did you get it? Victor: Shockingly, in diamond city from Arturo. Tooled up into a sniper rifle like this, nothing should survive the first shot. Anything that does, should be halfway to hell by the second shot. Dismissed, Colonel, I want you to put an hour in the range before you go on patrol with that. Preston: Yes sir, general. ***** Curie: “ Ah, a celebration, iz it handcocks bir’zday again?” Victor:  “No, but we are having a barbacue, and I wanted your medical expertise to cut up the meat.” Curie: “ I am a surgeon, not a diamond city butch-Mon Dieu, zis iz exquisite!” Victor: “I thought you would appreciate it, I found it while dealing with something out west. It had a bad name and history of bloodshed out there, I hope you give it a better name out here.” Curie: ”Ah treasures from ‘ze infamous numa-world, a place you never speak of.”  Victor: ”Its a place best not spoken of. Here, test the blade on theses meats.” Curie: “ It is like a cadaver scalpel, Oui, we shall begin ‘ze disection of ‘ze brahman, ‘Zen ‘ze cooking of ze brahman, ‘zen ‘ze eating of ‘ze brahman.” ***** Gage: Whats up, boss? Victor: Here, I got something for you Gage: Well gee boss, you didn’t have to do that... Is that what I think it is? Victor: Yep, Its a Power fist, got it off a super mutant behemoth in the commonwealth. I thought about putting the heating coil on it, but the rebar and cinderblock seems to have that raider asthetic. you might prefer. Gage: You got that right boss, only thing is, I’m not usually a front man, I like my rifle and some cover. Victor: True, but you are forgetting two things, Gage. Gage: Whats that? Victor: One, the yellow matches your armor and make a damn fine intimidating presence. Gage: That it does, and two? Victor: “I’m the godamn overboss.” Gage: “You got it, boss.” ***** Nick:  Oh... I cant take this. Victor: Why not? You helped me find him, you were there when he fell, you helped me find the institute. I helped you with winter, you helped me with Kellogg. You should have it. Nick: Now, now, Iv’e got my gun already. Victor: I’ve seen it, a rusty pipe pistol that hasn’t even been tuned up. This thing is already cranked up to 11, and I don’t think you are cruel enough to use it like he did. Kellog’s voice: You sure about that? Victor: What? Nick: What?

[perish-the-creator]

Making The Move

Rodorah Stockholm Fic:

Part1, Part2, Part3 

Ghidorah’s three sets of eyes watched with satisfaction as Rodan sat on the floor. He was folding up the laundry like his list of chores had commanded, but he sat in a fashion that made their mouths water. His position showed off the yummy thickness of his thighs and the perfect curves of his ass. Not to mention, he wore some pretty small yet tight booty shorts the captor had gotten for him. 

It was no telling if the Hispanic individual knew the effects he was having on the three-headed being, and the thought of him being blissfully unaware made it all the more arousing. It had been two weeks since Ghidorah had torn and discarded those clothes. He even went as far as making fake blood with a small pinch of Rodan’s own. (The fella had accidentally cut himself while cooking.) Thus far, they were in the total clear. The news, for the most part, said that the case was to be closed, but there were still some annoying few who demanded a body to go along with those clothes. For closure as they’d put it. But Ghidorah knew they’d have to just wait a little longer before Rodan’s absence became nothing more than a failed mission that’ll be overshadowed by some scandal. 

“Can we have pizza tonight?” His sweet voice snapped the three from their trance. 

“Huh?” Kevin asked. 

“Pizza,” Rodan repeats with a shy smile. “There was a commercial and it just made me want some. I mean if not that’s fine, I can still cook up the spaghetti I said-” 

“We can do pizza.” Ichi instantly booms, too caught up by the adorable voice of Rodan. Funny how art first the three almost hated it. It was a bit rough to hear. The voice of a guy who’s been through shit. But the longer he stayed the softer it got. It honestly sounded more natural than that thick tough-guy tone he first pulled. “What do you like on it?”

“Plain pepperoni or cheese is fine.” He replies before getting back to folding the clothes. Ichi nods and motions for Ni to order the food. Ni was a lot better at talking to people over the phone. He had to patience and voice for it. Alas, they could never make a phone call sitting down. They needed to move. 

So they walked towards the kitchen, pacing in circles as Ni calmed told the people how he wanted the pizza and how he expected it to be on time or else he won’t pay. He also adds a little prize too to make sure that their pizza is the very best.

Rodan deserves the very best after all.

When the order is completed and the phone call ends, they sit down and sigh. Stress has been a recent guest in their household. They were still making good funds while gaining a few lackeys, but the overall hype is slowly dying. They had Rodan. They had something to lose and couldn’t be as careless anymore. They needed a new way to make money soon or things were going to get real dicey. 

From the living room hear that godamn annoying commercial. It was the one about insurance or something. Regardless of its purpose, they hated the jingle. It absolutely catchy and took forever to get out of your head. So as they stormed back in there, ready to angrily change the channel, Ghidorah stops.

Rodan dances around, moving his hips and laughing. 

“Yeah yeah get your protection!! Death is free!! But pay our prices, don’t roll those dices, saving your whole family!!” He seemingly knew the jingle by heart and looked as if he enjoyed it. Ghidorah just watches, awestruck and impressed. Their eyes wander down his body and a part of them hardens. Oh wait, THAT part of them hardens. It’s been six months, going on seven now, maybe it was finally the right time to make a move. 

“Nice dance moves.” Kevin interrupts with a snarky tone. Ichi bites his horns in retaliation for ruining the moment. Rodan pauses before laughing nervously. 

“Oof, you three saw that? Heh, well now you know I have no rhythm.” He returns to his previous position on the floor and starts folding again. The two bothers scold Kevin for ruining their fun, but he just kept a stupid grin on his face. 

For another 20 minutes, they sit down in relative silence with the only sounds coming from the tv. That is until the doorbell rings. Ni snorts at the determination of the pizza guy.

When they answer the door, they are greeted by a baby faced little dragon. He couldn’t be any older than 17 at the most. He nervously handed over the pizza before standing there like a dork. 

“I paid over the phone. You can go.” Ni told him but the guy just shook his head and held his hand out. “Oh fuck, yeah the prize. Bold little dude.” Ghidorah walks away from the door, forgetting to close it while they went to go get the jewel the promised. That’s when the nosy bastard leaned in and saw Rodan sitting on the floor. 

The kid’s eyes shot out his head as he began to drool a little. Geez, whoever that was had a nice ass!! Just then, a shadow is over him, and he looks up with a gulp. 

“Fuck the prize. Were you just gawking at my husband?” Ni said, just low enough to where the guy could hear but Rodan was left in the dark. The guy quickly shook his head. 

“N..no sir...sirs!! I would never-”

“Get the fuck out of our faces,” Kevin growled before slamming the door in the kid’s face. Rodan is startled a little and looks toward the large being. 

“Everything okay? Did the pizza come?” He asked curiously as the three heads threw on fake smiles. 

“It was just a huge bug was on the door and we didn’t want it coming in.” Kevin lied. “But yeah, the pizza’s here.” Rodan smiled and skipped towards the kitchen, happy to enjoy a meal he hadn’t tasted in so long.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What’s with the face bro?” A voice asked the dragon as he walked back into the pizza shop. The dragon chuckles and walks back behind the counter, washing off his hands and preparing to make some fresh dough.

“Went to that Ghids order or whatever’s place to deliver his shit. Well, turns out the bastard has three heads.” His friend’s eyes widened. “Yeah, bro. THREE!”

“A hydra?! Dude I thought those folks went extinct years ago.” The mammal based friend responds. The dragon nods his head. 

“But that’s not all. Bastard got a nice ass husband. And I mean nice ass~.” His friend laughs a little. “I’m serious. It wasn’t super phat but fuck man those curves were no joke. Damn tease was wearing some sweet booty shorts.”

“Hold up, before you go any further into detail, what species we talking bout? Cause my little guy only launches for certain folks.” 

“ Pteranodon I think. Mostly due to the horns and the tail. Had his wings retracted though so that’s a bummer.” His friend once again gives him a surprised look. 

“Bro! Those fuckers are the best fucks. They a kinky species. Blade said he fucked one once a few years back, though I think he’s lying. Ain’t a lot of them left though so that Ghid bastard lucked up.” The mammal sighs and puts the pizza in the oven.

“Man imagine having a husband that fine. I tell ya he wouldn’t step foot out my house. I’d have him walk around with no clothes or sexy lingerie for sure. Mmm, might even snatch up a cutie like that if I saw him on the streets.” The dragon licks his lips as he daydreams. 

“You’re a crazy dude. Well, good thing he’s with someone who loves him and clearly gained consent and not a crazy kidnapper like you.”  The two laugh and continue on with the last few orders of the night. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ghidorah leans against the front of the shower, each head panting softly. A sense of dread and anxiety washed over them. Rodan had been spotted; had been stared at! And they did little more than giving that bastard a door to the face. There weren’t many pteranodons left, especially in this city, and despite the discarded clothes, there were still people looking for Rodan. If the damn idiot ran his mouth then rumors would start and people would talk and then form conspiracies and before they knew it cops would be busting down their door and dragging their sweet Rodan away from them. 

“Should...should we try now?” Kevin asked with an unsteady voice. “Before it’s too late. Go ahead and mark him. That way if the cops come they-”

“Marking won’t stop them separating a captive from their captor. No matter how we or he phrases it, we’ll be separated.” Ni replies with a saddened tone. There was a feeling in their chest that they hated more than anything. 

Fear.

For the first time, it appeared the world was crashing around them. For the first time, they actually worried about a future beyond their own. 

They hear the bathroom door open, followed by the sound of clothes falling on the ground. They don’t look up to see what it is until the shower door opens and Rodan steps inside; completely nude. 

“R..rodan!” Kevin blushed as did the others. But Rodan held a determined look as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. His eyes were trained on the large soul in front of him.

“Touch me.”

The three heads though they legit died for a moment. Did he really just? No! Wait is he? Was this?

“I want you Ghidorah.” The words were like bullets to each head and as Rodan pressed his body against theirs it was being more and more clear that this was in fact real life.

“We...we want you too,” Kevin responds on behalf of his brothers who are too awestruck to speak. Rodan smiles before guiding their hands on his body. 

“I’m yours.”

Needless to say, the water wasn’t the only thing steaming that night.  

[winchester-interrupted]

Bad Mood

Pairing: Platonic!Dean x reader, Platonic!Sam x reader

Summary: Deans been in a bad mood, so you tag along with him on a beer run to try and cheer him up - which proves to be a whole lot harder than you thought.

(A/N): Kind of a crack fic. Little bit of fluff at the end. Dean being a dick, thats pretty much it.

“Son of a-“ Dean yelled from the kitchen; you could hear the fridge door slamming from your seat in the library. You raised a brow at the heavy footsteps coming down the hall and into the room, eyes coming up to meet the annoyed green ones staring back and forth between you and Sam.

“Problem Winchester?” you questioned, trying to hide your amused smile behind a very dusty volume of the Heptameron, a book about angels you’d dug up from the Men of Letters archives. 

Dean looked incredulously at the both of you and raised his arms,

“Who the hell took the last beer and didn’t think to go buy more ASAP?” 

Sam furrowed his brows at his brother, not even bothering to hide his smile as you had been trying to.

“Dean did- did you just say ‘ASAP’ out loud?” You’ve dropped your head in your hands now, unable to control yourself after Sam’s comment. 

“It was you wasn’t it! I knew it was you!” Dean pointed an accusing finger in Sam’s direction, to which Sam just snorted at.

“Whatever dude, I’ll make a run into town and buy you a brand new six pack tomorrow.” Sam promised before opening his book back up and was back to intensely translating the ancient latin text. You looked to Dean, who was currently biting the inside of his cheek to keep from blowing up. He was too pissed off for this to be solely about the bunkers apparent beer drought; you’d noticed he had been fairly grumpy since he woke up this morning. 

You kept your eyes on Dean as he stalked over to pluck his jacket off the chair beside you.

“Screw it I’ll go now, I’m going freakin’ crazy sitting around here.” he huffed, hastily shrugging the jacket on and grabbing the keys to the impala.

“You mind if I come with? My eyes are gonna fry out of my head if I have to read one more word out of this book.” It wasn’t a complete lie, the book really was damn near indecipherable. And as much as you felt bad for leaving Sam researching alone, you wanted to make sure Dean was okay and see if you could cheer him up while you guys were out. Maybe all he needed would be some fresh air or maybe it was something much deeper, you never know with the Winchesters. 

Dean looked down at you in slight surprise, the annoyance briefly dissapearing from his face before nodding at you,

“I guess so, you ready to go like that?” his eyes dropped to the thin tanktop and leggings that you’d been lounging in. You looked down at your clothing as well, deciding to go change into something a little warmer.

“Uhh, give me just a second to run and change, I’ll be quick!” you promised, shooting out of your chair and running to your room before Dean could protest. 

You quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and one of Deans red flannels, gathering your hair up into a ponytail as you rushed back down the hall in record time. 

“I grew a fucking beard standing here waiting for you, lets go.” Dean grumbled. Sam gave you a silent look that you knew meant you got yourself into this. You gave him one back that you hoped he would understand as Fuck off, Sam. By the smile he quickly covered with a cough, you knew he understood.

The 15 minute car ride into town with Dean so far consisted of him quietly tapping along to Stairway to Heaven on the streering wheel, which covered the first eight minutes of the trip, and now a Boston song was starting. You on the other hand, debated whether you should risk Dean biting your head off to lower the music and try to talk to him in this mood he was in, or wait until you got to the store. You sighed again for probably the fifth time this car ride and Dean threw you a sideways glance.

“That’s starting to get annoying.” 

“Oh so he speaks!” Throwing your hands up you turned to face him, “You know what’s getting annoying? This attitude you’re in.” you huffed, crossing your arms and turning back to stare at the road.

“Attitude?” he scoffed, “I don’t have an attitude! If anyone has an attitude its you.” he raised his chin.

You threw him a weird look, “Dude, you just said the word ‘attitude’ three times in one sentence. Clearly I am not the problem.” You looked back out the window and thanked the gods that you were finally rolling down main street. 

“Oh my god. I’m too sober for this.” he grundled, swinging the car into the first parking spot he saw which - to your growing annoyance - was too far from the store considering the open spots much closer. Now you’d have to awkwardly walk together in silence all the way to the store. 

Or not, you thought as you realized Dean was already out of the car and walking away. With a roll of your eyes you pulled yourself out of the car and slammed the door a little harder than necessary just to piss off Dean. You smirked a little to yourself when he stopped in his tracks and turned around just to glare at you. You coldly walked past him with your arms crossed, 

“Hurry up Dean, I’m growing a fucking beard waiting for you.” you threw back at him. You smirked again in satifaction at the audible growl heard from the man stalking behind you.

You felt pleased with yourself until you glanced up at Dean, still visibly annoyed, and your heart sank a little. The whole reason why you came with him was to try and cheer him up, not make him even more angry, although he was the one that started it. Still, you decided as you struggled to keep up with his long strides towards to beer section, you would try to be civil and calm him down at the very least. 

“Godamn Winchesters and their long legs,” you grumbled, out of breath by the time you caught up to him scanning the shelves. Taking a look around, you realized you needed more wine - it’s what the three of you broke out on the rare occasion that Jody and Donna or company came over for dinner. 

Picking up a bottle of red and a bottle of white, you turned to Dean, “Hey Dean? You think we should get this Chardonnay or the Caberet?”

“What do I look like to you a fucking wine connoisseur? Get whatever you want.” he dismissed. You narrow your eyes at him and mimick him to his back. He’s making it real hard to be nice to him. You take another second to think before deciding on both and putting them in the cart thats now loaded with beer. 

“I know we just came for beer but theres a few more things we need while were out,” you said,  now walking beside him.

“I’m not buying Ikea furniture again.” Dean interrupted. You rolled your eyes at him and garbbed a case of Jack Daniels to put in the cart.

“Not furniture, Dean, I mean groceries-“

“Didn’t you and Sam just go last week and buy all that kale and rabbit shit?” he cuts in again. 

“Would you stop interrupting me?” you snap. He shuts his mouth and turns to look at you.

“For fucks sakes Dean, I was gonna pick up some stuff to make you a pie and cheer you up out of whatever this fucking mood you’re in, but fine let’s just go home.” You sigh, taking the cart from him and walking towards the cash.

“Pie? You were gonna make me a pie?” he speeds up a little, trailing close behind you like a little kid.

“Was. I was gonna make you a pie.” you say without looking at him. Suddenly the cart hits something solid and you look up to see Dean blocking your path.

“Look, I’m sorry.” he starts. Here we go, the big apology. You’re convince this is just because he wants pie.

“Being cramped up in the bunker researching all week… I’m going stir crazy. It’s been too quiet and I’ve been itching to go out and kill something you know?” he puts his hands out in a strangling pose.

A lady walking past with her child shoots the two of you a fearful look and ushers her kids the other way quickly, almost making you crack a smile.

“Yea, Dean, noone wants to be researching for a week straight. We’re all tired of it, you’re not the only one!” 

“I know, I know, it’s just…” he scratched the back of his neck, distractedly looking around the store.

“It’s just what, Dean?” You were getting impatient with him. Yea it sucks to be stuck in the library all day reading books you couldn’t even understand, but it was something all of you had to suffer through. Not to mention it was mostly you and Sam doing the majority or the work, while Dean would dissapear half the time to work on the impala or do Chuck-knows-what in his room.

“Well, you know… you and Sam are good at it you know? And you two always spend so much time talking about it and other nerdy philosophy shit that I don’t get and I just- I don’t know, I feel like I don’t get to hangout with you as much.” he finishes, looking at you sheepishly. 

“Dean,” you say softly, you anger quickly dissipating. “You know I love hanging out with you just as much as Sam. We have our movie nights! And you’re the one that always comes to the bar with me, or takes me to get burgers when I’m craving them at three in the morning. It’s just been a rough week, okay? For all of us.” 

He’s smiling now, the first smile you’ve seen him crack all day long.

“I guess you’re right. Thanks (Y/N).” he grins at you, the frowns looking at the cart. 

“I don’t think we really need that much whiskey,” he reaches to grab one of the cases and you smack his hand away quickly. 

“Did you just hiss at me?”

“Shut up, Dean.”

He looks at you with an amused smile before he grabs the cart and you both begin walking towards the pie section, together this time. 

[rottenprincessshura100]

Demon possession through dreams?

I saw a post about demon possession through dreams. So I wrote a fanfic of Meph trying it on Shura.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------- Has anyone ever givin' a shit about me? Godamn, what a rotten day, another crappy mission with Angel and Lightning, followed by another night completely alone.

Shura Kirigakure took a long swig of her beer emptying the bottle. "Yo gimme another one!" She shouted down the bar. A beer slid toward her, she snatched it up immediately and downed it. Yep, today totally sucked. It was her fucking birthday. Not like anybody knew it was her birthday, she never told anyone her actual age, that was sacrilege. Women had an expiration date, she reasoned, an age when they became invisible to the world. People valued youth in women, desirability. Women that were aged need not apply. This old trope had always rubbed Shura the wrong way, she had so much more to offer beyond her looks...intelligence for one.

 Rin and Yukio totally knew she wasn't 18...but what they didn't know...she had just turned dirty 30.

"Gimme a prairie fire." Shura bellowed waving a fist full of cash.

"Tobasco and tequila? You sure?" The barkeep raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, keep'im coming guy... I'm up for some self-hurt tonight."

"Listen, lady," He poured the shot. "I don't like serving drinks to depressed people. You've already had too much to drink."

Shura gulped the shot back. "C'mon man...it's my birthday."

"All the more reason for me to call you a cab."

"I can't believe you're cutting me off!"

"You'll thank me in the morning. Settle up, and get home."

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

Shura staggered up to the old dorms at True Cross Acadamy, she stumbled sideways and broke off one of her boot heels. "Shit. Those were brand new."

She ripped off the other boot and sat them together on the steps. Digging around in her pockets, she produced an old key and unlocked the door. The place was abandoned, Rin had gone over to a study group with the other exwires. Yukio must have been out on another secretive night mission. She worried about that kid, something was up with him.  Well, she mused, best for the lads to not see her stumbling drunk. Not like Yukio respected her anyway.

Shura opened the wooden door to her room, stripped off her clothes and flung her body onto the double bed. The room began to spin sickeningly. Shura slowly made her way to the bathroom and downed a tall glass of water and two aspirins. She pulled the blankets off of the bed and gingerly laid down, propping the pillows up behind her.  She would lay as still as possible until her stomach settled. It wasn't long until Shura found herself drifting off to sleep.

"Shura! Wake-up sleepy head!"

Shura jerked awake and took in her new surroundings with absolute confusion. She was clad in an oversized t-shirt and pajama pants.  Bright sunlight shone in through an arched stone window. Was this Shiro's monastery? She hadn't been here in years! The room was decorated in bright happy colors, a small white cat purred in the open window, soaking up the beauty of the day.

"Shura c'mon let's go!" Shura recognized that voice and shivers ran down her spine. She lunged out of bed, racing down the old wooden staircase. There stood Shiro, just as she remembered. Shura reached out and touched his face with a shaking hand. "

Shiro...is that really you?" He embraced her with a warm hug, Shura stiffened with shock. 

"How's my rotten princess this morning. You're ma and I were starting to get worried."

"Mom?" Shura questioned, turning towards the warm eyes of Yuri Egin who now stood beside her.  Yuri ran a small hand through Shura's hair lovingly.

"Good morning sweetpea," Yuri replied. "You missed breakfast."

Shura backed away warily. No, none of this was real. This is a trick.

"Late night huh?" Shiro smirked. "It's like you don't remember your own damn parents."

"This is wrong." Shura gasped. "You shouldn't be here. Neither of you...."

"We were supposed to be gone already," Yuri smiled. "Yukio and Rin are meeting us at the academy, remember? They receive new meisters today!"

"They do?" Shura frowned still perplexed. "I gotta be so high right now. None of this makes any sense."

"Get dressed Shura, you're fiance will be here to pick you up in 10 minutes."

“Huh!?”

Shura continued to stare blankly at Shiro. He kissed Yuri on the cheek, offered her his arm and led her from the chapel. "C'mon kiddo, get a move on."

I'm dreaming...I have to be goddamn dreaming. Shura made her way slowly upstairs to her room. As she swung the door open, a bright floral frock was laid out on the bed, complete with blush pink satin heels. Shura regarded the dress and chuckled. Yeah, this is totally a dream for sure. She tossed the dress over her shoulders and slipped on the heels. Wow, she looked classy. Shura frowned, placing her hands on her hips.  This wasn't a dream...this was a nightmare!

“This ain’t real!” She shouted into the emptiness of the room. There was no answer.

  With a poof of pink smoke, an enormous pink diamond now graced her ring finger. On the opposite wrist, a corsage of pink gardenia materialized, fastened to a band of delicate saltwater pearls.

Shura's mind continued to question. Well..if this is a dream seems a bit extra, doesn't it?

At that exact moment, a car horn sounded from outside. Shura cautiously made her way downstairs to the front door. As she peered into the yard, a pair of white doves took to the air, flying gracefully in front of her field of vision,  delicate rose petals carpeted the stone walk under her shoes. Soft ambient violin music began playing around her, setting the mood. Shura knitted her brows together warily. This was indeed extra. Pink schmaltzy extra.

It was then that she saw him.

His frame was tall and thin, and strangely familiar. The mystery man wore a pin-striped black suit and a large black top hat, his face turned away, hiding his identity completely from view.  With an almost rehearsed precision, reminiscent of an old-school Hollywood romance, he slowly turned and bowed. He held a bouquet of pink roses tied with ornate flounces of ribbon.

It was Mephisto! Of course, it was.

Within seconds Shura found herself his arms staring into the mesmerizing eyes of pure wickedness.

"Hello, my love!"  He smirked. "My my isn't this romantic!"

Shura stared at him with a mixture of shock and outrage.

"Now I know this is a fucking nightmare! There is no way you're my fiance!" Shura produced a dagger and held it to his neck.

Mephisto laughed confidently, snapping his fingers, effectively freezing Shura in place. He flicked the blade easily from her hand. “Every time you attack me, it hurts my feelings you know.”

“Feelings...my ass!”

"Whatever do you mean? My dear, the life you remember.. it was all a dream. This is real. Isn't it just wonderful? You aren't alone anymore!"

"I don't believe you. This is a LIE!" Shura snarled. "A trick! Why are you doing this?"

"I assure you! This is no trick." He smiled endearingly. "You have a mother....and a father. They adopted you. All of your dreams have come true."

"No, ..this is a fucking fallacy. Shiro and Yuri are dead."

"But Shura, you just saw them alive and well and they love you so very much.  In a couple of days you and I will be married, happily ever after.  I promise every day will be beautiful and perfect. For all eternity." His eyes opened wide showcasing a split second of evil foreboding. "You should feel as though a fog has been lifted....for the first time in your life. Everything is crystal clear."

He touched her face gently, voice full of concern. "Dearest, it's your birthday. I've planned the most lovely party for you, but you're not yourself and I'm so worried." The demon's voice took on a smooth empathetic tone. " Sadly you are unwell again. These days do happen quite often, I'm afraid." Mephisto rubbed her back in slow reassuring circles. "Perhaps you should come to my mansion and rest?" He tipped her chin so her eyes met his eyes. "All the anger and resentment will disappear soon. I promise."

Shura closed her eyes,  lulled by a strange feeling of warmth and reassurance.  Mephisto pulled her to him and gently kissed her forehead, running his claws through her short multi-colored hair. "There there....my princess. Just let the feelings invade your mind, I will keep your soul safe and sound in this blissful haze. I love you."

"Love?" Shura whispered wrinkling her nose at the obvious fib. "Demons can't love. Especially you!"

It was then that she heard a voice yelling in harshly in back of her mind. Jolting her free from Mephisto's persuasive power.

"Wake-up Shura!"

Was...that...?

"Shiro?" Shura whispered.

"SHURA FIGHT DAMNIT. FIGHT HIM!"

Mephisto sighed painfully and turned toward Shiro who had returned. Shiro's face broke into a  mischievous grin. "So you thought I'd go along with this? You tricky purple bastard." Shiro's body fought against an unseen force. "Ruining your plans over and over, that's my ultimate fantasy."

"Hmm." Mephisto smiled evilly. "And here I thought I had you under control this time. You never cease to amaze me, Shiro."

"I knew this would happen." Shiro continued. "She's like me...you've had eyes on her soul for a while now. It ain't happening."

"Oh, we'll see about that. You were once so full of confidence...."

"Now's your chance Shura. FIGHT!"

Shura pushed her hands against Mephisto's chest and knocked herself free. She summoned her sword, the tip dangerously close to Mephisto's neck.

"This is a TRICK!!!!!!!!!" She growled.

"Yes, but are you strong enough to punch your way out of this dimension?" Mephisto grinned maliciously.

Shura released an angry battle cry, attacking the demon. Her scream echoing throughout her mind smashing Mephisto's fantasy world all to hell.

With a start, she catapulted back into her body and found herself standing in front of a gilded door, her hand grasping a doorknob. Shura was soaked with sweat and shaking. As she regained control of her wits she realized her location. She was inside of Mephisto's mansion standing outside of his office.

"Shura? Darling, are you here for a visit?" Mephisto's voice chuckled menacingly from the other side of the door. "Please, won't you come in?"

Shura released the doorknob as if her hand had been burnt. He had possessed her, He’d brought her here!

"Not happening you evil prick." She took off in a run without looking back, exiting the building into the pouring rain. She raced back to the old dorm and prepared herself.

Shura yanked her bed into the center of the floor and poured a circle of salt around it, she chanted an aria illuminating the salt with a demonic protection spell. When she finished her handwork she released a shaky breath. "There. Hopefully, that will be enough."

"Well...my rotten lady. You passed your test."

Shura jumped onto the bed, sword at the ready.

Mephisto sat in her open window swinging his long legs playfully.

"You tried to possess me through my dreams!" She pointed the sword threateningly. "I won't let you take my soul without a fight!"

"You're stronger than I thought." Mephisto eyes shone in the darkness. "Oh..but don't worry, I won't do it again."

"I don't believe you. You've probably tried a hundred times!"

"It's so much fun though." Mephisto hopped from the window sill to the edge of the salt circle. He snapped a finger and the salt-line parted permitting him entrance. Shura swore in frustration and slashed her sword at his head. With a flick of his finger, the sword flew from her hand and became embedded within the wall.

"What do you want Mephisto!?"

Mephisto sat on the edge of the bed and smiled. "You didn't get to finish the fantasy. I worked so hard planning it. When I take a soul, I make a playground for it. Regardless of my reputation, I am not a cruel demon. It would have been like heaven for you, I know your desires, your sadness.  I know you better than you know yourself. Every human has a want....you want to feel loved. Yet abandonment terrifies you...so you allow this longing to torture needlessly."

"I know you're trying to manipulate my weaknesses, demon. I’m pretty sure I've had zero fantasies about marrying you," Shura stated pointedly. "Killing you...yes."

A wolfish grin flashed across Mephisto’s face. “You’re so savage. I respect that I suppose. Well...it's my playground after all and I do own the souls I catch." He grasped her chin within his long clawed fingers. "Perhaps it was wishful thinking on my part." Mephisto leaned toward her, stealing a kiss. Shura snarled in anger, vaulting from the bed. With a fluid motion, she was back in possession of her sword. It was too late however, he was long gone.  From some place deep within the recesses of her mind, she heard the sound of evil laughter.

"My offer still stands Shura." Mephisto laughed.  "It's so hard to tell sometimes, what is real, what is a dream. So hard to tell what our desires truly are...don't you think?"

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

Shura snapped awake in her bed. Her clothes were still in a pool on the floor. She tossed on a housecoat and raced downstairs. She had to know for sure.  The pair of boots were still sitting on the porch, right where she left them. Shura breathed a sigh of relief, that was until she examined them closely. The heel was no longer broken.

"MEPHISTO!!!!! YOU BASTARD!" She yelled into the night.

"Sweet dreams Shura." A silky voice echoed in her mind. "We'll play again later. I promise."

"You aren't going to win!!"

"Oh yes, I will. You're my new Shiro."

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

"Big brother? What are you doing?" Amaimon plopped down on the end of the long pink sectional couch with a bowl of candy corn.

Mephisto opened his large green eyes and stretched his long graceful legs. "Oh nothing, I was just daydreaming."

"Looking at some new souls for your collection?"

"Hmmm.." Mephisto smiled lazily. "How did you know?"

"There's dick all on tv."

"You are very perceptive. I was indeed bored, so I thought I'd make a real-life manga. Only my human toys were in a fighting mood tonight....."

"Oh well...better luck next time."

"Yes. There's always a next time."

END

[after-lauhgter]

Please rate all the songs on pray for the wicked

In case someone doesn’t know, we are talking about Pray For The Wicked by Panic! At The Disco.

Ooook. You asked for it. I’d say don’t even get me started on this one but u just got me started. I literally just finished listening to my *cough* limited vinyl FOR LIKE THE 67TH TIME SO HEEREEE WE GOOO I LOOVE THIS ALBUM OK

so FIRST OF ALL this is the best fucking album to listen to in the car if you have friends like me and all you do in your freetime is basically driving somewhere and singing your heart out o some good PANIC! IT’s SO FuN!

some things i think about this album in general:

i guess all of you know brendons voice like holy hell it’s so amazing. he is so good. I love him and i love the music he writes but sometimes i felt like his music doesn’t rly allow him to show everything he’s got. I’m not hating or anything but if you’ve heard his performance of let’s say soul of a man for example, you could get a feeling that his voice is just too big for albums such as afycso or twtltrtd. don’t get me wrong i LOVE those albums. I love all of them so fucking much. But i sometimes felt like he didn’t get the chance to show off how talented he is, like he did on broadway.

when he said that his broadway experience influenced the writing process i HOPED it would be music that is as big as his voice can potentially be if u know what i’m talking about and then he comes out with something  like THIS. and EVERY SINGLE SONG is so freaking BIG, i think any of them could easily be in a musical of could have been a single or whatever bc they are ALL. SO. STRONG. when i listened to the album for the first time and it was just one huge ass bod after another it was like DOES HE EVER STOP and no he does not. And i’m so happy he doesn’t.

OK HERE WE GO, ALL OF THE FREAKING BOPS

I’m not doing like a X/10 rating or worst to best or anything bc it just feels so wrong, especially with this masterpiece of an album.

1. (Fuck A) Silver Lining

short but intense. not a big surprise rn since it’s been out for a while already but WHEN i listened to it for the first time i was fucking SHOOK like it’s the second song i’ve ever heard from this album (after say amen when they both came out) and it’s such a new and different thing. i love it. it’s a fucking bop. It’s amazing how there’s so much energy going on and it doesn’t ever stop, like even in the “calmer” parts u still have to move somehow cause its SUCH a BOP

2. Say Amen (Saturday Night)

the first piece of art i’ve heard from this era. good god. I had now idea what this album would sound like and when i heard the first few seconds of this for the first time i was like OKaY this is DIFFERENT but I LOVE IT SO MUCH. so freakin catchy, such a bop. ALSO i LOOOVE how the entire band is singing in the chorus bc they all sound very good and GODAMN NICOLE when you thought she wouldn’t get any cooler and now she SINGS aarrgh and than the video trilogy thing. absolute gold. besides that I am deeply in love with this entire satan/religious/sinner/wicked kind of idea. its just so funnn

3. Hey Look Ma, I Made It

when i listened to the entire album on the night of its release, this was the first song i didn’t know already so I WAS READY. the melody and rhythm of the verses are so fucking cool and then THAT PRE CHORUS HOLY Moly. I knew that Dillon Francis was somewhere on this album and dear god i love that man so much, he’s so talented. so when i heard the chorus it just felt very dillon-like so i looked it up and i was right lol. somehow this song got me so emotional, i just sat there in the middle of the night and felt so happy for brendon bc its so good and well yeah, he made it and he deserves all of this bc he’s worked so hard for this and yeh it just makes me happy. also DID I MENTION HOW CATCHY IT IS

4. High Hopes

and again, we’ve heard this one before, it’s fucking solid, such a good song. I personally like choruses with a lot of words in them, just like we have it. also FUCKING INSPIRATIONAL. i mean i’m pretty much dead inside and all my dreams are dead BUT STILL. harmonies in the bridge r very dope, again, i love it when the band does back up vocals.

5. Roaring 20s

This one’s my favourite so far. my opinion might change but rn i love this one the most. In the beginning i was like ok what country r we in but god, is that song good. I mean WHAT A RHYTHM. this song just pushes itself forward with tempo and catchy good ass rhymy lines such as MAYBE I’LL SMILE A BIT, MAYBE THE OPPOSITE and the lyrics in general a just fucking cool. Well, roll me like a blunt cause i wanna go home doesn’t rly make any sense to be but you know what i’m talkin about. AND THEN THE BRIDGE. and THOSe MOTHERFUCKING TRIPLETS in that one chorus oh my god. g e n i u s

6. Dancing’s Not A Crime

This might be my least favourite song at the moment but DON’t GET mE wrong i still like it a lot but some other songs are a bit stronger in my opinion. i love the bridge and the lyrics r cute. it’s my best friend’s favourite and she keeps dancing to it and it’s cute. and i LOVE how he sings I JUST WANNA BE YOUR BOYFRIEND/GIRLFRIEND in the bridge, such integrity.

7. One Of The Drunks

I LOVE the instrumentaion on this one. and the lyrics, i’m a big fan of the rhymes. the verse, again, freaking catchy. A lot of songs have that in common on this album: A verse with a good melody and rhythm, then a fantastic pre chorus. and especially in this song i love the pre chorus with that EVERY WEEKEND WITH YOUR FRIENDS, EVERY WEEKEND WHEN IT ENDS and then that lil damn its all good, i guess. so precious. i REALLY like this song and for me personally its so relatable.  

8. The Overpass

now THIS is a HUGE ASS SONG like i see people freaking out on a musical stage or in a movie scene right in front of my eyes when i listen to this one. and that little “let me hear you say something” sounds so cute. who IS THAT? and then the bridge, it’s so different to the rest of the song and so dreamy and then the chorus comes back RIGHT in your FACE BAM

9. King Of The Clouds

this one was out earlier too and god, he had me at carl sagan. no actually he had me at the first second when i heard those harmonies. i ADORE these lyrics, i can relate to them so much bc i spend a lot of time thinking about space and the universe and how unimportant we might be and i love carl sagan. and HOW can a song that only lasts 2:40 contain so much depth and power and everything like ITS BIGGER ON THE INSIDE

10. Old Fashioned

Ok i’m a HOE for CHORDPOGRESSIONS that aren’t the classic pop shit with like F G Am C, you know? Old Fashioned has such a diversitiy between the chorus and the verses and i LOVE that. and most of the songs on pftw do that.

11. Dying in LA

there had to be a slow one on the album and here it is. more like crying in LA tho. ok so the melody in the verses, that swing he does on BELIEVE IT good god. and then you looked at death in a tarot card and you saw what you had to do OMG YES. also i’m a huge sucker for this entire LA kinda concept thing, how its representing dreams and hopes and stuff but also the negative aspects and god i just love it. LA Devotee is still one of my faves too btw. oh and fun fact, brendon said he wrote la devotee with the same person he wrote daying in LA with. yeah so basically i love love love that song, made me cry multiple times. that’s how you end an album godamnit.

ok that’s it! this took me like 2 hours but I LOVE getting messages and requests like this bc i LOVE talking about things that i LOVE so please guys, keep sending me these. and to the anon who asked for this one: i love you. have a great week.

[sunshinedjh]

The Wolf of The Woods Part Nineteen

Word count: 1745

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Wattpad<<<

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Warnings: Dan lowkey has a breakdown but heyyy same amirite?

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'Howell and Lester...' Seamus began 'who would've thought it?' All eyes were on him now as he grinned maniacally. Dan's face still mirrored that of a deer caught in headlights. 

'Back off Seamus' Phil practically growled, showing the same dominant and protective instinct that Dan had been so surprised by earlier. 

'Why should I? I'm just giving the two of you a friendly greeting... Remember when we used to be friends Phil?'

'No, I don't Seamus, all I remember is you using me to do your dirty work' Phil replied stoically. 

'There's no need to be so uptight now' Jack butted in 'we didn't realize we were interrupting something' 

'Interrupting w,w- what exactly?' Dan whimpered, the first words he was able to get out sounding rather unimpressive. 

'I don't know whatever you want to call it' Harvey said, wrinkling his nose 'disgusting affection, loving embrace' 

The silence that followed had never been so piercing, each person waiting for the other to speak up. It was Seamus who did first. 

'Anyway, not to worry. We'll be on our way now, come on boys let's leave the twinks to it' he concluded, giving one last side smirk as him and the other two turned to leave. 

'Phil...' Dan whispered after they'd gone. Standing there hopelessly like all the life had been drained from him he turned to look up at Phil. It was all he could manage to say, any other words seeming to difficult to form. 

'Come on Dan' Phil whispered back. He took Dan by the arm and then they started walking. 

Dan hardly registered where they were walking to, he didn't notice the eyes of his fellow students that were looking at his dishevelled form, he didn't acknowledge the sound of the bathroom door opening and then closing behind him. 

'Dan' Phil spoke softly, his voice waking Dan from his thoughts like a slap to the face, or rather the opposite due to how calm and sullen the tone was. 'Are you okay?' He asked.

It was beyond Dan, it really was, how someone could be so selfless. It wasn't just Dan who had been through that back there, it was both of them, Phil arguably more so. So why? How, could Phil possibly care more about Dan's feelings that his own? 

'They'll tell everyone Phil' he said, simply stating the one thought that wouldn't leave his mind. 'They've always seemed to know I was gay but I've never actually given them evidence to support it! And now they'll tell the whole damn school about us!' 

'They... they might not' Phil replied, in a pitiful attempt at comforting. 

'But what if they do?! What if everyone in this entire god forsaken place finds out! What if they, what if...' 

Dan lost all compassion in his words. He hadn't really been sure what he was going to say, he didn't even know why having his secrets unwillingly found out terrified him so much. It had all turned out okay when Phil had found out everything he'd tried so desperately to hide. But his mind couldn't help going back to another time when he hadn't been so fortunate. 

The night when his parents had found out about his ability. They had burst into his room while he was transforming, only gawping in horror instead of rushing to help their son as he was being mutilated before their eyes. Even when Dan had come running back to them the following morning, hopeless and afraid, they had simply turned him away and left him to fend for himself. That was what happened when normal people found out about your secrets, people less caring and sympathetic than Phil. 

Dan was ripped like a book page from his thoughts then, and thrown back into reality. He didn't want to live in that reality anymore if these were the consequences, if it weren't for the loving blue eyes staring back at him he might have said that he'd rather be trapped in his thoughts forever. 

He couldn't stand by himself anymore, couldn't retain the dryness in his eyes. Throwing his arms around Phil, he let his sobs echo around the bathroom. As he lifted his head from Phil's shoulder for a moment he found himself staring right back at him in the form of a mirror. Oh how drained he looked, how overbearingly sorrowful the wreck that he saw was. Upon meeting his gaze with Phil for the second time, he spoke up in a choked sob. 

'Hey Phil' 

'What?' 

'Lets go home' 

Phil smiled as he pulled away from Dan, nodding in agreement. 

'How are we going to get out?' 

'Well' 

Dan stood up straight, if it wasn't for the remains of the tears dripping down his face you might never have known he'd been crying. 'If I recall correctly, we seem to be in the very same bathroom that we crawled out the window of last time, seems like the perfect escape route if you ask me' 

Dan looked awfully proud of his on the spot plan as he gestured to he far left toilet cubicle inquisitively. 

'Wow, Dan Howell or Sherlock Holmes? The world will never know' Phil chuckled. 

The two boys made their way over to the cubicle then. 

‘If we can just get out here, the other side is outside school grounds, we'll be out of here in no time' Said Dan confidently, although the way he was looking up at the window hesitantly showed anything but said confidence. 

'My lady...' Phil cooed as he sunk down to his knees to help boost Dan up to the window. Dan blushed and rolled his eyes at Phil's dorky way of carrying out the gesture. Now had this gone to plan Dan would've been up and out of the window in no time. But thanks to Phil this didn't quite go to plan. 

'Dan, are you up yet? I don't think I can hold on much longer' Phil strained, struggling to retain the grip he had on Dan's legs. 

'I, just, need... to get the window open' 

No matter how hard Dan yanked at the damn window handle it didn't seem like it was going to budge. 

That was why it shocked him so when it did. As the window flew open Dan was almost sent flying backwards, shifting under Phil's grip and nearly falling. In a rush to readjust his grip and prevent the boy from collapsing he tried to grab him... 

He succeeded believe it or not, only this time it seemed he hadn't managed to grab his legs like he'd down before. No, this time he found his grip tightly on Dan's ass. 

'Phil!' Dan shrieked. Phil not managing to respond due to the fact he was desperately trying to hold back embarrassed giggles, somehow though he still managed to keep hold of Dan in the still slightly compromising area. 'It's lunch break you know! If anyone walked in and saw this...' 

Phil practically snorted at this, even when Dan looked down at him with a scowl he couldn't hold back the laugher for a couple more seconds. Eventually he pulled himself together though, pushing Dan up to the windowsill so he could get out and then following suit. 

'Damn, after that you know what we should get into?' He quizzed the other boy. 

'What..?' 

'Couples yoga!' The two boys guffawed loudly at he remark as began to walk in the direction of home. 

It was about three hours later now. The boys, had been safely home for a while now were now sat down by the lake. It was worth missing whatever lesson they were supposed to have had after lunch for this. For the same peace and solitude that they'd had and taken for granted before. Neither of them had talked about what had happened that day since getting back. Dan hadn't really had the heart to bring it up and seemingly thinking that Phil felt the same he was surprised when the boy decided to bring it up at that very moment. 

'Dan, are you okay now?' He asked, genuine empathy in his voice showing that he probably already knew the answer. 

'I've been better' Dan replied honestly as he played with a piece of grass. 

'Yeah me too' Phil sighed 'it's cruel really that something like this had to happen so soon after you'd recovered from... you know, before' 

Dan threw the piece of grass he'd been fiddling with into the water and let himself fall backwards onto the floor if he forest. 

'It's always me' he huffed, looking up at the sky 'I keep all these secrets from people and they always come back to bite me, always. I can't even k...' 

Phil stood up, seeming distracted by something as he looked behind him. Dan seemed oblivious to this as he carried on taking. Leaves rustled in the exact spot Phil was so carefully examining. 

'What if they find out something worse Phil, what if they find out I'm godamn werewolf! They could turn me in to the government to be experimented on for fucks sake!' 

Phil's eyes went wide. 

'Phil, are you even listening to me? Did you hear...' 

Phil jumped down beside him to put his hand on Dan's mouth and silenced him. 

Dan couldn't help but feel like he'd done something wrong. Okay, maybe wallowing in his sorrows after refusing to talk about them for three hours was a bit much for Phil but the way his eyes had widened so suggested there was something else going on. He was still looking behind them, seemingly at a bush a little further away from the lake. Dan got up and tried to turn around suddenly with the intentions of seeing exactly what had captivated Phil's attention. 

Not getting to do as much however, as Phil caught his attention instead, looking at him with the expression of a rabbit that'd just heard a gunshot. 

'Phil?' 

It was like he'd just seen a ghost, or something equally horrific. He didn't give Dan he time to argue though. 

'Run! Dan! Run home and don't look back!' He yelled, utterly panic stricken. 'But what are you going to...' 

'I'll follow you after, just go home and stay there!' 

Dan felt like arguing again by the sudden authority in Phil's voice told him not to, instead he bolted in the direction he thought to be towards home and didn't look back once.

[paint-with-spirit-blog]

Like One Of My French Girls, pt. Deux || Princess Painter

Once upon a time like two and a half months ago, Ana and Urs slipped off to have sex. Kiara and I have finally finished it. We don’t want it anymore. Take it away from us. Please.

Anastasia:

Anastasia was near-beaming, beaming with a delightful triumphant smirk painted on her coated lips. She always enjoyed watching Ursula get so riled up, feeling that charged up energy inside of her boil over till she lost her wits in the span of a second and practically wanted to pounce.

It was like a high for Ana knowing that she could trigger something so primal inside of Urs whenever she wanted. And knowing that she could take it away just as easily, but that wasn’t what was prevalent in her mind at the moment.

That growl was.

Yes, Anastasia thoroughly enjoyed that noise that slipped out of Urs’s mouth uncontrollably. It was further affirmation of how close to the edge the other girl currently was, an edge Ana had helped in pushing little by little to the peak, and who Anastasia had every intention in hearing all over again. It had been a while since she had, a while she had even been in Ursula’s dorm room also, but she knew the path well. (That’s how often she had been there) And the blonde could tell that that was where she was currently being led to.

The moment the familiar wooden door was shut, Anastasia took no time in instantly pinning the girl up against the wooden frame. The action was done roughly, but nowhere had it been sloppy. No, Anastasia executed whatever she wanted done perfectly even if that was pushing Ursula up against the door with her own body firmly pressed against hers. Oh and pressed was meant quite literally because the blonde left no space in between them. Every line and curve of Ana’s body was directly in contact with Ursula’s, hot and agressive exactly the way Anastasia liked it.

Her lips curved into a wicked grin, those blue eyes of her glittering with an heightened devious spark. “What happened, Ursula.” And yes her name was used very deliberately. “Couldn’t hold it in?”     

Ursula:

Urs hadn’t stopped once to look back or over or wherever at Ana, solely because if she did they probably wouldn’t make it back to her room. It was that smirk- that godamned smirk- and those eyes and lips and cheekbones-

Ursula nearly stomped her way up to her room without so much as a word, all her frustration boiling just under her skin. What made her even more frustrated was the fact that she was in the first place, the fact that she could keep her cool with everyone else in this stupid little town except for the blonde that she was dragging along behind her now.

After she nearly slammed the door open and shut again, she barely had time to drop her bag before Ana had her pinned against the dark wood. If she wasn’t careful, Urs would let herself melt right there against the girl and the door and puddle up right at Ana’s feet. It wasn’t like they hadn’t done this before; it was not the first time Ursula had felt the Tremaine girl’s curves pressed against her, nor was it the first time she had felt the girl’s breath brush against her neck. Chills spread out over her body just thinking about it, all the times Ana had cornered her in this very spot and all the times Urs had done the same.

What confused Urs about the pair was that it never got old. With other people, Ursula could have fun three or four times, but after that she knew their tricks and their tactics. It took the fun out of everything if she knew exactly where someone would touch her and exactly what they would say. But with Ana it was… different. It was always new, always charged.

Honestly, that scared Ursula when she thought about it too much.

But right now the artist couldn’t think about anything aside from the rate at which her heart was pounding in her ears. “You make that hard to do when you scrape your damned nails down my jaw, Anastasia.” She said the name with bite in her tone, sinking her fingers into Ana’s hips and jerking her closer (was “closer” even a possibility?). “You are so fucking frustrating.” And there was that growl again, accompanied by a glint in her eye. “It’ll catch up to you one of these days, Princess.”

Here was where things got dangerous for Anastasia, if she were to accept that there was a tiny warning sign alarming in her head. You know those warning signs that screamed: Get out! You are getting too close and will fall in your own game! Get out NOW. Abandon ship!! But the thing was that Anastasia Tremaine never listened.

Because there was no need for her to listen... right? That warning sign didn’t exist. Anastasia had no need for warnings when she knew exactly where all her pieces were laid out in her game because she was moving the pieces, she was the one who decided when things started, where they would lead and how it ended. She was the creator, and director. This was her game.

A game she was playing with absolutely no purpose…

See that’s where her alarm rang louder showing her what Ana was evidently denying, that she had no purpose. There was no shiny winning token in the end of this tunnel. Ana had nothing she needed to gain from Ursula, and wasn’t that why she always entered these games? Her alarm glared angrily against the hot friction Ursula’s grip had caused that sent a thrilling jolt up the line of the blonde’s spine. If Ana hadn’t been careful, she would’ve almost moaned at the sudden jerk, but she stifled it in. Instead, she decided in mounting that friction increasing it with the sudden grinding of her hips against Ursula’s, hungry and fervent.

Again, this was where things got… tricky because although the blonde knew her movements were done to solely drive Ursula to an uncomfortable boiling point, they also began to incite her. It was hard to distinguish between lines that were beginning to dangerously blur together because for Anastasia, that friction riding up between her legs and grinding at her hip points felt so addictive.

That growl only made matters worse and coupled with the way Ursula just spoke her name things were definitely clouding over, but Anastasia had to keep bloody focused and talking helped with just that.

A chuckle left the blonde’s lips, low and sultry. “Do you truly believe that you can?” Her hands moved then, her fingers sliding up against Ursula’s hips, aggressively tracing the curve of her waist, devouring the shape of her torso and the arch of her neck until they slithered their way into those silky locks.

“I would love to see that.”

If they hadn’t just gone through ten minutes of this back and forth, Ursula would have had so much more control than she did now. She would have been able to flip this entire situation around, throw Ana against the door and devour her. There would have been no short moan that had to be cut off when Ana’s hips moved against her’s, no stutter in her lungs’ function when delicate fingers snaked into her hair. But Ana had won the challenge, fair and square. She had pushed Urs to the ledge and then let her decide when she wanted to jump.

It was almost embarrassing how her body reacted to the blonde girl’s teasing. She didn’t want for it to react; she wanted to be the one in control at all times, not putty in someone else’s hands. But her reactions were exactly what drove Ana crazy, and she knew that deep down. So she swallowed, let the stutter in her lungs move out across the rest of her body. Words had left her, the English language a long-dead antique in her mind. The only way she could respond was with action.

If Ana wanted to see something, Ursula would just have to show her.

Her hips rocked up against Ana’s as their lips crashed together, and Ursula let out a long breath that she hadn’t known she was holding. It was like discovering fire, if that had been more like an explosion. In the painter’s mind, she could see the colors that each touch made. Which was cheesy, yes, that she compared it to painting, but she didn’t know anything else. She only knew that the chills that Ana’s hands caused spread across her like her watercolors, a wave of pleasure running down her body like the paints on damp paper, and she knew that ripples of red radiated out from where their curves pressed together, and she knew that their kisses were always a deep shade of maroon. She knew exactly how she would express it on canvas, exactly what colors would go where.

To Ursula, that meant more than she would like to let on, but her body betrayed her every time this happened. Her tongue would dart across Ana’s and her thighs would shake and her hands would claw for more friction between them. She did all these things, tangible evidence of her melting in Ana’s presence, moaning at the girl’s touch.

It would be a blatant lie if Anastasia didn’t admit to her body reacting when Ursula melted right in her hands. It was a rush, intoxicating and delirious, one that burned hot in her blood and peaked her nerves accelerating their synapses until they were firing in a blind rage. She craved that, hungered for the hidden shakes that tremored out of Ursula and vibrated against the constriction of her own clothing. It was a drug truly, to know in the heat of her veins that Ana was the one making Ursula that way, making her lose all that control the artist tended to pride herself in.     

Because Ana had the control this round, and that control dizzyingly buzzed around her head hitting her hard with a certain wild high the blonde found herself relinquishing to.

These were the reasons Anastasia preferred not entering the physical realm of things. Of course, she was no saint she loved a great mind fuck, watching someone disseminate so easily at the tip of her fingers as they crawled to their knees in desperate defeat, but she played that war in words, in charm, not in physicality. Physicality was Drizella’s war ground. Anastasia hardly jumped on anyone, in fact, she prided in knowing that she could keep herself together and gain whatever she needs without the means of being physical.

And yet, here she was her body so heavily pressed up against Ursula’s keeping her cornered against the wooden door frame.

That pride was nowhere in sight, long gone in the chaos of her mind, and certainly was it no where around when Ana parted her lips to allow Urs’s hungry invasion the damn thing practically disintegrating when she felt the other girl’s moan echo within the cavern of her mouth.

That triggered something primal in her, her fingers grabbing fistful of hair without a care for the roughness behind her own action. What Anastasia wanted was a new angle, an angle that exposed the flesh of the girl’s neck and gave Ana the access to assertively deepen the fervent kiss. And oh the way Ursula’s nails felt clawing into the skin of her hips made the blonde practically growl right into her mouth, her hips taking a life of their own matching every rock with a harder, ferocious stroke, tight and so deliriously constrictive against her jeans.

If that alarm had been ringing loud before, it was screaming in crimson bright reds along the walls of her head, but Anastasia didn’t care. She was in search for those delicious tremors, those desperate strangled noises and fumbled crazed movements that made her head spin and body seethe under a burning heat. Damned the alarm, she was far too into this now.  

Ursula had to fight back. Fight back against her reeling mind, fight back against the heat between her legs. She needed control, that’s what she was clawing for against Ana’s hips, causing them to grind against her even harder. It was a chain reaction; Urs would sink her nails into Ana’s skin, then Ana would rock her hips against Urs’, then Urs would moan and press her nails against the girl’s skin again. It was a cycle, vicious and primal and raw, and Ursula desperately needed out.

God, she didn’t want to leave this spot though. This was what her version of paradise was, soft curves and sharp edges melding together into one writhing motion with Ana.

Or anyone. Not just Ana. Definitely anyone.

For a while longer she stayed there, pulling the taller girl’s hips into her over and over again like waves washing up on a rocky shore. Rocky because with every touch Ursula’s body trembled, though she willed it to stop. Those trembles drove Ana to new heights with each wave, her hands pulled harder at Ursula’s bleached hair to expose the skin of her neck to the cold air and Ursula’s hands didn’t need to grasp for friction after a while. Ana was doing it all on her own, her body begging Urs’ to stoke the fire.

She knew that Ana got her kicks from having full control, but where was the fun in that? Ursula had to give her something to work for, something to fight over. So she pushed their bodies away from the door without breaking the kiss and guided the other girl, backwards, to the desk near them. Quickly she hoisted Ana up onto the empty desk, smirking into the kiss. She could finally breathe, for just a moment, with Ana’s hips away from her a bit.

Their torsos were still pressed together when Ursula’s hands slithered under the other’s shirt, immediately making quick work of the clasps of her bra. This had obviously not been her first rodeo, and she knew instantly where things stood now. They were on even playing ground, because she knew the mind numbing excitement that shot through her own body when someone else unclasped her bra. If it were half as exciting to Ana, then she might’ve finally gotten the edge in this dance.

Anastasia’s body was reeling in pleasure from the mounting friction that kept building in between her legs. She can feel a pressure beginning to wind up inside of her, coiling and tightening the more her hips buckled up with urgency against Ursula’s. It was invigorating to hear those breathless moans, to feel the sharpness of Urs’s nail indenting her skin while their lips crashed together hot and ruthless. They were creating a volatile mixture, both reaching a precipice that if Anastasia wasn’t careful enough she could end up getting caught in the chaotic whirlwind of it all.

The thing was however, that the blonde didn’t want to be careful. She reveled in the addiction of pushing Ursula as far she possibly could, as far enough to hear her noises and feel her melting desperately against her. That was her favorite fix, the only one that exciting those nerve receptors in her brain and left her in some euphoric high she wasn’t willing to completely back down from. It awoke a potent hunger inside of her that, Ana apparently, had no idea was there until it reacted.

Until she entered this little game with Ursula.

A game now where the other girl wanted to switch the pieces and take control. It was how things always turned out when the two of them were together, one always trying to take the control from the other playing this volatile game of tug of war. But you see, Anastasia liked that. It fed into that insatiable hunger to feel Ursula fighting against this power struggle, riling up into frantic levels that made her need to win that control back from the blonde. For the moment, Anastasia allowed her to have those reigns if only for one sole purpose.

To rile Ursula further, to change the trajectory so that in the end Ursula fell by her own means.

Ana’s body had been hoisted on a table now, her fingers leaving the silky tendrils of Ursula’s hair to travel down the shape of her torso and hungrily work their way down her hips to her thighs but her detailed exploration became distracted when she felt Ursula’s own hands slip under the fabric of her shirt, her fingers trailing over burning skin as the blonde couldn’t help but to practically gasp right into the other’s mouth. The contact electrified her nerves and when those fingers unclasped the constricting and stifling fabric of her bra, Anastasia instantly arched forward, her own fingers digging into the the jean material that curled around Ursula’s thigh.    

She moaned then, her fingers unclawing themselves and hooking around the edge of Ursula’s jeans to drag her closer, hungrily wanting to feel her curves suffocate everyone one of her owns so that their wasn’t a centimeter left of space left in between the two bodies because if she was going to give up her reins for this slight moment, then she better bloody well enjoy it.   

That little gasp gave Ursula room to deepen the kiss, slow and hot, as she moved her fingers back down Ana’s sides. It was her game to play now, at least for a little while, and god, she wanted to hear Ana beg.

She wouldn’t, and the painter knew that, but it was nice to imagine it.

Her fingers traced the edge of the girl’s jeans, lingering briefly at the front near the button. She didn’t try, though, knew better. As many of these sessions as she’d had with Ana, she knew when she could wiggle her way further than usual, and to get there she would have to do a little more coaxing.

That was the thing about these little run-ins with Ana, the thing that Ursula claimed kept her coming back for more. They always stopped, never gave either the satisfaction of taking the dive off of the peaks that they worked each other up to. They’d go far, far enough to drive Ursula nearly insane, but never quite far enough to quench that thirst. In reality, she’d come back even if that thirst was quenched, but she’d be damned if she let Ana know that.

Quickly, she tugged the Tremaine girl’s shirt over her head, throwing it off to the side along with the unlatched fabric of the bra. She moved then, placing a knee on the desk between Ana’s thighs and pushing her down against the cold wood of the desk. Now it was Urs’ turn to control her hips, even if they still quivered with the pressure of Ana’s thigh between them as she climbed on top of the other girl. This was the high that Ana got so often, of feeling Ursula trembling beneath her, and as the artist’s hips began to roll against Ana’s, she felt it swell up inside of her.

Of all the people Ursula had ever been with, Ana was by far her favorite, and it was no secret to the younger girl. She liked to dangle it over Urs’ head, use it to her advantage in these little things. Truly, if Ana told Ursula to jump, the painter would refuse at first, until Ana ran those soft fingertips against her skin.

Then, Urs would ask how high.

Since Ana was Ursula’s favorite little plaything, the rush Urs got when she had control was dizzying. She knew that Ana never really relinquished full control, not ever, but that was alright as long as Ursula could draw out the same breathy moans and primal growls that the other girl could elicit from her. And, with her thigh moving with her hips against the heat between Ana’s legs, and her fingers grazing agonizingly lightly against the girl’s exposed nipple, she thought that she might have a chance to drag the noises she so wanted to hear out of Ana.

Anastasia felt Ursula’s fingers then, how exactly with everything else running amok in her head she wasn’t so sure... but rest assure she felt those fingers around the edge of her jeans so threatenly close to the button that they sent chills right down her thighs and through her legs. Urs always wanted to gain entrance in every one of their sessions and she wanted it so quickly, but there was no fun in that was there? Since the beginning Ana made sure the other girl was fully aware that she had to work for it, that she had to build the blonde up and entice her enough to even allow the thought to cross her mind.

And Anastasia was patient about it, even through swallowed tremors and breathless moans, Ana was firm in what she wanted and firm in keeping that tantalizing prize Urs always so desperately wanted away from her, walking away just when she sensed the other reaching a point she couldn’t come back from. It was one more thing Ana had control over, could dangle over Ursula to use against her to keep that addictive high coursing vigorously through her veins.

It was the one way the blonde knew Ursula would come back if her hunger was never fully fed... Even if Ana herself, somewhere in that hidden part of herself she kept closed in a locked trunk for no one else to see including herself, she wanted Urs to rip off her jeans and do whatever that wild imaginative mind led her to do.

But Anastasia always honed herself in, always pulled in her own control to not allow that hidden desire to take over and thankfully all of those thoughts were blissfully swept away the moment the other removed her shirt and bra in one easy sweep.

Immediately the cool of the room wrapped around the now pale open flesh and when her back was pressed against the rough exterior of the table surface a heightened run of goosebumps shot through her skin much out of Ana’s control. She felt the heat of Ursula’s body falling over her and when her thigh pressed against her core her hips grinding down hot and slow, Anastasia practically growled lifting her own hips to counter the action just as slow and tortuously, teasing that burning friction so the heat between her legs could rush over her entire body in melting waves.

Ana parted away from the kiss needing to fill her lungs with air against the onslaught of Ursula’s fingers over her nipples. She arched her back the angle allowing the full weight of her breast to cup into the other hands. The blonde’s fingers snaked up inside of Ursula’s shirts devouring the skin of her torso as she tilted her head to allow her lips to trail over the other’s jaw line. They traveled up to her ears grazing the skin and Anastasia moaned then low and strangled purposefully so that Ursula could hear it, could see what the friction and her fingers were doing to the blonde.

“Fuck.” She growled low, a wicked smirk lining her lips. “Take off your shirt for me, Ursula.” Because Anastasia wanted to see her do it, build the control back to herself little by little.      

Do not melt.

You are not allowed to melt yet.

Ursula’s favorite part about being with Ana was the way she took control. The painter was always in control with other people, always hovering above another body or giving orders. She didn’t trust anyone to make her feel the way they could if she told them what to do, where to touch, when to slow down.

But Ana, she knew. From the very first time, the blonde girl had known exactly what to do to make Urs’ body quake. It had freaked Urs out then, because she had never met anyone who could both keep up with her and rip all of it away in an instant (how the girl managed to walk away without her knees buckling was hotter to Ursula than most other people were to begin with). Maybe it was because they were so similar. Maybe it was because they were really just toys to one another. The other option was something that Ursula refused to let herself think, let alone imagine.

What she never had to imagine was the way this girl felt beneath her, because she knew. And it was by far her favorite thing to feel, the way Ana’s hips bucked up against hers, the way her breasts felt when she groped at them with her soft palms. The artist knew the way her lips tasted and the way her nipples felt against her tongue and the way her chills felt pressed against her bare skin. And, as many times as they had done this before, it never bored Ursula. The growls, the moans, the pressure. It was all like she’d never experienced it before and yet like it was an old friend all at once.

Ana’s fingers against the skin of her torso made her knees a little wobbly, made her steady motion against Ana’s figure stumble. The hot, wet center of her hips screamed against her jeans. They were constrictive and unnecessary, but Ana was the one who called those shots. Urs knew that. And she liked it.

As tough as the painter liked to play, Ana’s control of every one of these situations drove her to new heights of pleasure. Because when Urs obeyed, she was rewarded with an audible gold star, a sigh or a moan or a-

Fuck.

Ursula could have lost it right there. She could have let the primal beast take over and ravage the girl beneath her until she was a wriggling mass of stifled screams and twitching thighs. But she didn’t, because that growled word was followed by a command that made Ursula’s insides light on fire. She let out a shaky breath, trying to ignore the the smirk on the blonde girl’s lips under her. Her knee moved before she did, sliding up to put even more pressure against Ana’s core with her thigh before settling down on the other side of the girl’s leg. Now, all of her weight rested against the warmth between Ana’s legs as she raised up. Slowly, without breaking her stare down at the blue orbs that glittered up at her, she lifted the shirt over her head and let it fall to the floor beside them. She didn’t immediately return to her spot, though. Instead, she let her hands travel up the length of Ana’s body to to cup the girl’s breasts, her thumbs rubbing the taut pink nubs beneath them. “Anything else, Princess?”

There was a reason Ursula was Anastasia’s favorite little playtoy by far. She listened. When Ana commanded Urs did as told but never so complacently. No, Ursula always added more to the command given seeking to arouse the blonde further, wanting to win any prize token that showed Ana being pushed off her limits. It would be foolish too to say that Anastasia didn’t love that, that she didn’t revel in the thought of Urs wanting to desperately please her far beyond what she could stand.

And Ursula did it so well.

Even if Anastasia wouldn’t admit it outloud and had to keep reign on how her body would react or what noises she allowed to slip through her lips, it didn’t change the fact that Ursula knew how to arouse her, knew how to make her heated center slick and moist with anticipation. Her skin practically screeched in glaring protest against the suffocating tightness of her jeans when Urs’ knee pressed against her core, her breath hitching in the back of her throat. She wanted her jeans off and the building friction to to ride over her wet center directly with no barrier, hot and deliriously unbearable.  

But she couldn’t not yet, not when she still could do so much.

So instead, Anastasia inched closer (if that was possible) and rocked her hips up, stroking her core up along the other’s thigh slow and wickedly hot as shudders of straight euphoria began to course through her own body. Her actions probably didn’t help the screaming need to rip off her own jeans, but oh was it a delicious distraction. So was watching Ursula tug off her shirt, the blonde’s eyes slowly and very provocatively taking in the new expanse of open skin before her, so lush and inviting and Anastasia had every intention to get her fill of that open flesh but Ursula seemed to have had different plans.

This is where she added onto Ana’s command those fingers sliding up her torso like the winding tendril of a plant devouring its victim. Her fingers left trails of goosebumps in their wake, her nerves firing in alarming rates heightening her skin and leaving it insufferably sensitive. And when those thumbs found the taut hardness of her nipples, Anastasia arched right into the handiwork her head reeling back as waves of pleasure rolled off her which was made audible with the low sultry hum and mixed strangled noise that slipped right out of her lips.

Ursula was dragging her into dangerous waters and if she didn’t take her control back, Anastasia wasn’t so sure if she would come out of this one as intact as she always did.

The question caused her grin to grow wider her teeth sinking into her bottom lips so suggestively, and against the heated assault of those thumbs Anastasia hoisted herself up, straddling herself between Ursula’s entrance and one of of her thighs. Her knee took no time in pushing assertively against the other’s core riding it with hard heavy strokes. She chuckled now, a throaty teasing wisp of a laughter before her hands took a hold of Urs’s jaw and her lips crashed into her. Ana kissed her hard, slow but deep, wild and raw while her hands slid down the girl’s neck gliding to the clasp of her bra and easily undoing it dropping the the fabric material to ground.

Her lips began to move then, following the same trail her fingers had working down her throat. Her tongue tasted, exploring that welcoming skin dipping into the nook where her neck and shoulders met with slow probing strokes. Her teeth even decided in having a taste of their own as well nipping and grazing until they nipped into her collar bones. Her hands at this point began to slide up Ur’s torso slithering up to cup the full weight of her breast. Her mouth continued it’s tasting sliding down to the swell of the other’s breast. She allowed her tongue to taste the creamy flesh that was so open and inviting dipping close enough to graze right over Ursula’s nipples.

But she didn’t.

Instead Anastasia’s eyes looked up at Ursula, pupils dilated and glazed over with a fog of hot desire, her tongue taking one more heated stroke right above the flesh of her nipples. “Mmm, should I?”   

Ursula Emi Yamada did not beg.

She didn’t beg for anything. Even as a child she had been strong. She had never begged for a family to take her in, had never begged for extra scraps of food when the going got tough. Begging was below her.

Except for when Ana was the one below her, with her knee in just the perfect place for the artist to grind her core against it. The string of noises that followed the warm trail of Anastasia’s tongue and the sharp pressure of her teeth would have been nothing short of embarrassing had Urs been riding anyone else’s leg.

But she wasn’t greedily rolling her hot center against someone else’s leg. And this wasn’t the first time that Ana had elicited such noises from her. They were usually met with a smirk, or the removal of the pressure between Ursula’s legs, or the removal of Ana’s body entirely. Sometimes she would string her along a bit more, whisper in Ursula’s ear about how good she was at following orders, about how good her name sounded dripping off of the older girl’s lips. And Ursula would always take it, like a champ, mind you. She would glare and growl and fight until she gave in to the high that Ana brought her.

And, usually, after Urs was sure she was finally going to have some kind of out of body, otherworldly experience, Ana would leave her writhing on her bed or puddled up on the floor or sliding down the wall from the sudden weakness in her knees. But this time, Urs decided, would be different. This time she would make it near impossible for the girl to leave. Because this time, if Ana left, Urs thought that she might burst into flames. So she steeled herself against all of the thoughts in her head screaming at her. She had decided how this would go.

Ursula Emi Yamada was going to beg.

Trembling hands threaded into her own hair, leaving her skin a blank canvas for the blonde girl to claim. Her back arched, desperately trying to force Ana’s tongue to slide across the hardened nipple it so dangerously danced around. She still moved against the girl’s leg, rolling her hips and shuddering at the delicious friction there. Eyebrows tugged together, pleading down at the eyes that were just as hazy as her’s, as her teeth scraped against her bottom lip. When she spoke, it followed a loud moan and a hard roll of her hips, her voice tremoring with anticipation and excitement and need.

“Please, Anastasia. Please.”

Anastasia was reaching the point in her game when she would steel herself together and walk away unscached, bothered, or even phased. That’s what it would always appear so, valiant legs unaffected by trembles and a devious grin that would paint over those lips of hers. Often times she left with a lingering peck over Ursula’s lips, soft sultry words echoing over the other’s ears meant to incite that raging hunger she would leave so unfed.

And she knew it was time to do just that.

Could hear it in the cacophony of noises that were slipping from Urs’s mouth, vibrating against her own skin so lost and needy, the way Ana always preferred it. Could feel it in the incessant grinding of Ursula’s core against her thigh that caused a husky chuckle to drip right out of the blonde’s lips and into the warm skin of the other’s breast. Ursula was exactly where Ana wanted her. At her peak, her body bursting and writhing in an intoxicating high.

Yes, now was the perfect time to make her exit.

Except Anastasia Tremaine was now facing the one unexpected thing she would have never thought to face.  Ursula begged.

Ursula never begged.

Never. Not in any of their sessions. She always fought back took the blonde’s leave with her head high even when her body was screaming, and bursting in flames. In an instant, Ana’s hands found themselves curling around the other’s waist her nails digging into skin like sharp talons as she jolted Ursula’s hips to a stop. Her eyes shot up to Ursula’s seeing that same hazy fog she was sure was apparent in her own eyes catching the desperate tremors in her words. It was the bloody tone that left Anastasia at a hurling stop, not even the words, the tone.

It was laced with pure need and desperation. Ursula knew that Ana was going to leave and she was begging her to stay, pleading with the blonde and that was when she felt an anger beginning to bubble inside of herself. Because this is where Anastasia Tremaine was weak. Why she chose to do her battles with cunning words and swooning charm. It was why others knew she was the softer Tremaine to approach. Ana could disseminate a person, watch them crumble even ruin them, but she could never stay and see them beg see them reach such a low and be expected to leave them in such a state. Rodmilla could, Drizella could, Anastasia couldn’t and that burned. The realization was boiling her blood seething virulently in her veins and even still she couldn’t leave.

She growled then, low and primal feeling the arch of Ursula’s back as her tongue moved across her hardened nipple in wild, angry strokes. Her finger began to move again sliding down between the joint of her knee and Urs’s center working quick, and quite furiously if she might add, to undo the button of her jeans and bring down the zipper. They slithered up the heated skin of her torso, her mouth fully taking in the taut nub now relentlessly and without mercy.

Her anger was there sizzling, burning because she knew Ursula had won this one, had done the one thing Anastasia couldn’t walk away from and now she was entering a game where the tables completely turned and she had no idea where she would fall.   

When Ana’s fingers dug into her skin and stopped the movement of her hips, Ursula thought that she might storm off. She imagined herself being left in a heap on the desk, worrying more about whether or not she had fucked things up permanently, somehow, than worrying about the heat between her legs. And then Ana’s warm tongue moved across her cold skin.

If the noises that had filled the room before were embarrassing, this new string of noises had to be utterly humiliating.

Urs had broken Ana.

Ursula had won.

That was the only way to explain the way the girl’s fingers so furiously pulled at the button of her jeans, the only way to explain the glare that those blue eyes shot up at her, the only way to explain the way that her lips and tongue assaulted Urs’ nipple. And instead of Urs smirking, gloating in her victory, she let herself enjoy the moment. Because Anastasia Tremaine wasn’t crawling out from underneath her. She was pushing Urs’ jeans down from her hips fervently, she was pulling these noises out of Urs.

That meant that this was game on.

Everything happened quickly then. Urs slipped off of the desk, pushing her jeans down to the floor. She pulled Ana close, standing between the girl’s knees and unbuttoning the thick fabric hugging her hips. None of this was slow, Ursula gave no time to second guess or to stall. She wanted Ana and she wanted her right the fuck now.

The painter scooped the lighter girl up, wrapping her legs around her upright body and beginning the short walk to her bed in the corner. Those few steps were long, filled with nothing but the blue of Ana’s eyes and the way their bodies felt so close together. Their lips met again as Urs lowered Anastasia’s body down onto the bed. Chills covered her body, her lips and teeth and tongue devouring the skin of the pale girl’s neck. Her hands traveled down Ana’s body, nails lightly clawing into the girl’s flesh. Fingers traced the outline of jeans again, sliding their cold zipper down.

However, she did not begin to pull them off. No, she wanted to play just a little longer.

Her lips traveled up to the other girl’s ear, where she let out an intentionally shaky breath as she whispered.

“Please can I fuck you?”

Everything had begun moving rapidly then. It was no longer a game of riling up and walking away. No. Things had shifted had become a little more urgent and for Anastasia a little more angrier. Her anger still sizzled in her veins even against the sweet incessant noises that curled out of Ursula’s lips in loud desperate moans.

It was what Ana wanted after all such noises filling the room till the other’s throat was hoarse and hurting her.

It, however, still didn’t exactly appease her anger, but as mentioned before, things were moving more rapidly and the blonde found her legs wrapped around Urs, their lips crashing together so intensely that her anger was slowly beginning to disperse away into shattered fragments in her blood. Her hands slithered into those bleach locks as her back fell against the bed soft lines melting into each other with the weight of Ursula’s body over hers. Deep down, like way deep deep down in that box that she kept locked away from herself, Anastasia loved this feeling. Loved the minimal availability of space and air that lingered between their two bodies when one was over the other.

Ana arched up closer to Urs’s body (if that was possible) at the feel of nails clawing down her body, a sharp inhalation of breath hitching at the back of her throat with the contact Ursula was placing on her neck teeth and tongue hungrily tasting skin. She felt those lips move sliding up to hear shaky words now spoken that sent a shiver of pleasure right down Anastasia’s spine. A velvety wisp of laughter dripped from out of her lips in response.

“I should leave you here for asking.” Her eyes were locked with Ursula’s words thick with a heavy huskiness as her fingers left the tendrils of hair traveling down the other’s back to come in contact with the one slim piece of fabric left on Urs’s body. “All hot and bothered. It would be such good timing.” Her legs, you know the ones still covered in jeans yeah those, slowly snaked up Ursula’s bare ones allowing the jean material to tease the exposed skin with its rough exterior. Her fingers dipped a little lower now playing with the waistband of fabric in its reach tugging it just a smidge lower.

Anastasia lifted her head her lips gliding over Ursula’s jaw line slipping right to her ear. She spoke then her words a hot sultry whisper.

“Make me stay, Ursula.”   

The older girl smiled at Ana’s threats to leave, a shiver creeping down her spine from the girl’s breath against her ear. The rough fabric against her skin made the nerve endings catch fire, much like Ana’s fingers at the hem of her underwear. She knew that, in reality, Ana very well could have just walked away like she had so often before, but there was something different about this moment. Urs knew that, for whatever reason, she had sealed this deal.

And then, Ana’s command made her vision go blurry.

She would have expected this from anyone else. Would have expected others to tease her into keeping them here. But not Anastasia. And since it was Anastasia, Ursula momentarily lost every thought she had. Now, it was Ana and her and her and Ana and nothing mattered other than Ursula claiming her prize.

Not that Anastasia was, like, a prize, or anything. Urs had plenty of people that she could do this with. There was nothing different about hearing her name like that from Ana. Even if the tightening in her gut said otherwise.

But she stifled it, pressed her lips hard against Ana’s while she tugged the girl’s jeans down, only breaking the kiss to rip them off. She wanted to quip back, wanted to tell Ana that, if anyone could make her stay, it was Ursula. But she didn’t. Instead she let the jeans fall to the wayside, let her eyes travel up Ana’s body to finally fall on those staring back up at her.

This time when their lips met, Ursula’s eyes were sealed shut. If this happened, then the tightness in her gut would stop when she was around Ana. That was all this was, a perpetual case of imaginary blue balls. Because Urs couldn’t feel, wouldn’t let herself. Especially not for Anastasia Tremaine. Because they were different, the lowly painter and the princess. Ana was a rich girl, born with privilege and opportunity. Ursula was an orphan, someone who was used to people not wanting her for more than a few months. But this was an even playing field, one where Urs’s hands left chills on Ana’s skin, one where Urs ached to feel the heat of Ana’s body. Her hand dove into that heat, beneath the fabric of Ana’s underwear, circling a cold finger around the girl’s wet clit. Gentle moans fell out from her own throat and into the mouth she was pressed against. It was just as much fun for her to give than it was to receive.

Once Ana’s body was moving against her, trying to find more friction against her slow finger, Urs smiled. She broke the kiss, just long enough to mutter. “I won’t have to make you stay, I’ll just make you come.” Her teeth nipped at Ana’s lip before she pressed her finger harder against the other girl’s clit, stroking it greedily while she rubbed her thigh against Ana’s.

Anastasia knew her command was in many ways a risky one to say. The risk wasn’t found in the fact that Ursula wouldn’t comply, because Ana knew that she would, she knew Ursula would very well heed to those words and keep Ana from leaving.

That, however, had been the risk.

The risk was in the fact that Anastasia wouldn’t be walking away this time. When she vocalized those four words together she finalized a move in this game she had never intended in making. Granted, Ursula’s unexpected begging was a major force in the change of things, but inevitably it fell down to Anastasia’s own weakness.

Yes, in how weak her inability had been to pull away when she should have.

And that still burned deep in her gut twisting and knotting in angry surges because it touched on a soft spot Anastasia never wanted to admit existed, much less for Ursula.

Because it didn’t. This was a game that was all it was a game for Anastasia and a game for Ursula.

It didn’t matter that her lips responded with the same urgency as the girl above her, fervently returning each kiss with a deeper hunger that tipped over the edge of a precipice, or that her skin came to life in runs of endless goosebumps from the mere touch of the painter’s fingers sliding her jeans off.

This whole bloody ordeal was still just a game.

There was a certain heat that simmered low when Ursula’s gaze traveled up Ana’s body the sensation boiling the blood in her veins to an almost uncomfortable pitch. It wasn’t something the blonde had much time to process, not when she felt Ursula’s hand dive into her aching heat gaining purchase to the one entry Ana had never allowed before. Her hips immediately sprung to life buckling up against the girls’ greedy rhythm matching it stroke per stroke to heighten that potent friction that caught her nerves ablaze and left her head spinning in ripples of pure pleasure. She wanted to moan and allow that strangled noise to vibrate right into the cavern of Ursula’s mouth, hot and so desperately needy.

But she stifled it.

Instead the pleasure showed in the quick frantic traveling of her fingers up the painter’s body to grab fistfuls of bleach locks pressing her deeper into her own mouth as Ana’s kisses became harder, increasing in intensity. She could feel her center moistening, becoming slick against Urs’s assault her own hips wicked in their need for more. The blonde was losing her control her body wanting nothing more than to be ravaged by the euphoric high that was claiming it.   

Dammit, she couldn’t lose it now. It was far too early to humiliate her ego in such a way.

Anastasia had to regain her own control back or else her body would threaten to writhe incessantly right under Ursula’s and Anastasia would not have that. What happened next was a blur of movements where Ana honed her steele to change the positions and pin Urs’s body beneath her and straddle her own above the painter’s. A slow wicked grin curved the blonde’s lips her head dipping low to allow her tongue to hungrily trail over Urs’s collarbone wild strands of golden locks cascading over a blank canvas of skin beneath her. Her fingers began working then traveling down quickly to remove the last piece of fabric that lingered on the girl’s body. Ana had suddenly felt in a tasting mood, her tongue sliding down to slowly explore the skin of Ursula’s abdomen teeth grazing along in her detailed  exploration.

Her hands had now fervently traveled up Ursula’s bare thighs opening her legs wider so that her tongue could dip lower and taste the sharp lines of the girl’s hips deliberately moving closer to that heated center. Ana chuckled then her eyes locking with the painter’s knowing how torturous it must be feeling for Ursula in merely stopping right at the position she had.

“Only if I allow you to.”   

In twenty-two years, there had never been a sentence uttered to Ursula so heart-stopping and toe-curling as that one.

“Only if I allow you to.”

And that interruption to her heart’s beating came on the coattails of being flipped and pinned down (for a smaller girl, Ana was stronger than Urs had given her credit for) and stripped entirely. She hadn’t expected it. Hadn’t expected the little princess to fight back for this long. Hadn’t expected for Ana to bring to the surface all the things she’d felt and stuffed into an iron-clad box in the gaping pits of her stomach.

As it all unfolded, Ursula tried very hard to keep her wits about her. The sight of Ana watching her own handiwork, somewhat marveling at the way Ursula’s body reacted to the slightest touches, was in itself almost more than the artist could handle. And she felt everything: soft, golden hair spilling over her chest, slick taste buds like knowing fingers against the braille of her chills (what would that read? Surely that would be her downfall, the one way that Ana might know what Ursula really thought and felt and locked away beneath her skin), the sparks left by teeth dragged across skin stoking the embers in her blood, the pleasant bite of fingernails against the tender muscles of her thighs.

And then, with her lips ghosting over Urs’ hipbone, she’d muttered the teasing words.

“Only if I allow you to.”

How was Ursula supposed to keep herself from vocalizing the fire that was eating up her body? How was she meant to focus on this power struggle when the slightest touches made that fire spread out of control, made her nearly pant from all the heat? She’d pictured this image a hundred times, maybe even a thousand, if she really counted. Her fingers all curled up in that gold mane- Anastasia’s- and her hips surging up to press soft lips- Anastasia’s- harder against her own.

When Ursula was with other people, did she ever even realize it was them and not her?

One thing was certain: Urs could not control herself. A whimper- yes, whimper- made her chin tremble and she looked down at Ana, watching the girl’s tongue dip closer and closer to the heart of flames between her legs. Desperately, she fought against the want to thread her fingers into Ana’s hair. It made her fingertips tingle. It made everything tingle, feeling the girl’s breath on her stomach and her thighs and to keep herself losing her fucking mind she curled her toes, tangled her hands into the blanket beneath her. And, on the tail end of a groan, she begged. Again.

“F-fuck, Ana. Please.”

The sight before Anastasia wasn’t one she ever thought would come across her so soon, in all technicality it shouldn’t have the blonde had every intention in playing out this game for far longer, that however didn’t mean she wasn’t enjoying it.

Ursula was splayed before her like a willing sacrifice ready to be devoured, an open canvas of enticing tan skin that painted strokes of firing chills wherever the length of her tongue claimed for its own. Her tongue worked the inner skin of the artist’s thighs tasting the sweet contractions and quaking tremors of her muscles constricting in desire.

It was invigorating, an intoxicating delirium in merely knowing the control she wielded, that something so inconspicuous as her tongue could dissolve a person to nothing more than heat and breathless whimpers.

Anastasia wondered if this was the driving motion for Drizella’s need in fucking every pair of legs her eyes flickered over. Although she couldn’t fathom believing this arousing high of stimulation mounting over any ole person someone decided to randomly fuck. This hadn’t been Ana’s first time, but the slight buzzing high that blurred her thoughts and left her drenched with a dizzying desire to break Ursula further, that she hadn’t experienced before. At least never quite as primal as she was now.

That made her stomach lurch the deep tissues of her gut tightening within her.

Was it only because this was Ursula…?

It was then when Anastasia caught the whimper resounding within her ear drums, trembling fumbled words spilling together to beg. This time, however, the begging was arousing. Hearing the groaning undertone of Ursula pleading in sheer desperation practically left the blonde in a blinding haze.

Only after a low and devious husk of a chuckle did Anastasia finally heed to the pleading her tongue darting over the painter’s massaging the clint teasingly slow at first wanting to take the full taste of her in her mouth so hot and moist. The blonde had every intention in watching Ursula writhe in front of her, her strokes becoming deeper and greedier. She could feel her own core throbbing with a vicious need the more Ursula’s taste devoured her own senses, but she muted that need behind the sweet noises that slipped from the artist’s mouth.

Sometimes, when Urs was in this position, she’d chuckle into a soft moan, because she had won. But here and now, she could think about nothing but Ana. Her lips below the artist’s naval, her fingers dancing across the tan skin they traced.

Ana was the artist now. She left streaks of vibrant colors where she touched. She filled the room with the poetic sound of Urs’ whines.

When she felt the warmth of the other girl’s tongue slide against her clit, those whines became cries (the neighbors were used to this by now, surely. She would get a text from Gogo later asking who the lucky victim had been). They filled the room, bounded off the walls and surely made canvases nearly rattle. There was a direct correlation, Ursula soon discovered, between the noises she made and how greedily Ana lapped at the throbbing bundle of nerves. Her hips moved in time with the assault, pressing herself up to get even more friction.

For a moment in the very beginning, she thought she might be done for.

But no, no; she bit down into her lip hard, let strings of noises and half-muttered profanities tumble into the air, lolled her eyes back as her head found its spot among her soft comforter. The paint-tarnished fabric bunched up in her clenched fists. Ursula wanted to bring it to her lips, to snatch the fabric and the mass of her hand between her teeth to keep from alerting the entire hall that she was having the most beautiful kind of fun. But she didn’t. Instead she raised herself on her elbows, made a show of watching Anastasia’s work. One hand moved to weave into the yellow hair to give a slight tug, to prove that she thought she could still take control. It made Ana move more fervently, to prove that she had Urs exactly where she wanted her.

When Ursula came, the girl’s name dripped from her tongue the way that she dripped onto Ana’s.

The muscles in her body contracted from the intensity, her head falling back to her bed again as she shook. For a while she was quiet, only soft moans sliding from her throat. Her fingers that had made a home in Ana’s hair went slack and she tried to convince herself to catch her breath. But, the thing about Urs was that she was never really satisfied. That made it hard to catch your breath, when the weight of the orgasm lifted from your shoulders and the fire still burned inside your blood. She thought, though, that this was probably the damned closest that she’d ever been to satisfaction.

And Ana had gotten her there.

Ana had sent her into fits of pleasure so strong her toes had curled and her whole body had quivered. More so than she had with anyone else beneath or atop or beside her. The intensity alone was still making Urs’ head swim, taking laps and loops and dunks in mid-air suspension.

And then the muscles went limp. The artist- Ursula, the artist who had been knocked from her pedestal- could do nothing but breathe, in and out, let her name slip out between.

Anastasia had Ursula exactly where she wanted her. The painter’s body writhing under the ministrations of her tongue, rising frantically to burn under a mounting friction that only seemed to coil tighter the more her tongue stroke her clint. She was at the brink of a staggering edge and Ana was the one controlling when the final push could be allowed. She loved that control, the rousing pleasure that surged through her veins as a result from it.

And Ursula responded so well.

Anastasia curled her fingers tighter around the artist’s thighs pinning them down as she spread her legs wider. Her tongue lapped greedily sliding down the hot moistened slit and matching the wild buckling of Ur’s hips stroke by stroke. The blonde watched as Ursula propped herself on her elbows, the blue of her gaze fixing boldly on the painter so that she would make no mistake of who was responsible in bringing her to such feverish heights. She felt fingers weaving into her hair palms spreading over her scalp to grab fistfuls the mere action only causing Ana’s tongue to probe deeper and assault more aggressively, but never messily. She never did anything disorderly each probing stroke was done deliberately and precisely.

The strangled whines and incessant noises resonated within Ana’s ears heightening her nerves and causing them to synapse at a potent speed. Each fumbled profanity and whimpering escaping of her name sounded as sweet as Ursula’s tasted in her mouth and as tangible as the contracting sinews of muscles that caressed the blonde’s fingertips.  

Yes, Ursula was very close to her climax her body winding tighter and tighter the more her tongued worked the sensitive wet core and that brought a smoldering glitter of triumph to Ana’s eyes. There was no thought of the stormy currents Anastasia had inadvertently entered playing this game, no thought of how addictively pleasant it was to watch Ursula’s body crumble into scurrying shattered pieces of pleasure before her, all that flooded the blonde was a sweltering haughtiness and pride that swirled chaotically in her mind. It was exhilarating being the one to wield the control and Anastasia drowned in every delicious millimeter of it.    

The full weight of Ursula’s orgasm was felt against Ana’s mouth as a haughty and husky wisp of laughter dripped from the blonde’s lips. She allowed her lips to slowly travel up the now lax muscles of Urs’s thighs continuing their course up her torso and abdomen until reaching the lines of her collarbone all done with gentle attention. Anastasia lifted her head a taunting grin gracing her lips.

“Quite the bloody screamer, Ursula.”    

Was Ana right? Yeah, sure. Did that mean that Urs wasn’t going to make a “bloody screamer” out of Anastasia?

Not at all.

Soft lips had traveled up the painter’s body, every nerve ending still burning from the heat of her orgasm. She wasn’t exactly proud of how she had melted beneath Ana’s touch, but it was nothing she couldn’t bounce back from (though she would have definitely liked to have a few more minutes to regain her footing, but she’d catch up soon enough).

Ursula scraped her nails against the other girl’s skin lightly, her other finger ghosting down her jaw as she let out a hum. “How else would you know I was having fun, hmm?” She stayed there a moment, taking in the sight of Ana’s gloating stare and her once perfect hair. And when she’d had enough of that, she hooked her leg around Anastasia’s and, in one fell swoop, turned the tables again.

Ana would be the cause of her imminent case of whiplash.

Now she was pinning Ana down, fighting that same boastful smirk while leaving the same soft, slow trail of kisses down the girl’s body. From her new place between Ana’s legs, the artist all but purred.

“My turn, Princess.”