#f themes

[rayactive-factory]

[🐈🥀🪴⚫🐈‍⬛🐈]

[self-shippy]

good morning selfshippers just an ordinary morning post here move along…

JUST KIDDING I cast spell of IMAGINE YOUR F/OS MORNING VOICE

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Welcome to the Dungeons of Fear and Hunger.

[aerithisms]

i understand what people are saying when they talk about fandom overstating the importance of farcille to the dunmeshi narrative and that their frustrations are related to a larger frustration with fandom in general prioritising shipping over other relationships/narrative themes. HOWEVER i do find it a little suspect and annoying that the one time the Big Tumblr Thing Of The Month has a popular f/f ship that the fandom is over-extrapolating from in the same way that fandom usually over-extrapolates m/m relationships i'm suddenly seeing all these posts complaining about it

[terrorofthetrident]

“As a young man, Aemond wore night-black armor, chased with gold.”

— A Wiki of Ice and Fire

[astriiformes]

One thing this episode really lingered on is just how much The Owl House is a story about stories -- fandom, and stories told within stories, and breaking the mold to write your own, new one, and history as a narrative and parallels to the past, but also not being beholden to repeat them.

It's Luz stumbling into a magical world and deciding to stay because of the stories she loves. It's Eda telling her there are no chosen ones there, but stories turning out to having real power even when chosen ones don't. It's Luz and Amity having their first real bonding moment in a library, battling a book that came to life. It's Azura bringing them together. It's Luz learning about Philip Wittebane first through the false, polished, carefully curated story he wrote about himself in his diary. It's Eda telling Luz and King the story of how she met Raine before they're ever able to meet them. It's the repeating cycle of grimwalkers, constructed to play roles in a story they were never privy to. It's Caleb only ever being shown through glimpses and snatches of the narrative that swallowed him up, but being present all the same. It's Gus and Hunter stumbling upon Camila's old favorite series and connecting to it the same way she did (and then some). It's the constant meta jokes about various books the characters love mirroring the show. It's the kids on a haunted hayride being told about the Wittebane brothers like they're a ghost story, except they know they were real -- and who the real monster was.

It's meeting your girlfriend because of fandom. It's the book series your dad gifted to you just before he died that brought you much-needed comfort at the time, and so much more in the future. It's looking deep inside and saying "Stories help me be the person I want to be" and "You want me to repeat the way this happened in the past, but I refuse" and "Stories help us remember those who are gone."

It's Luz finally stepping back into the Demon Realm dressed as Azura, the character that lead her there in the first place, at the end of the beginning of the end of the show's own story.

It's about how stories can save your life.

[cebwitch]

I have always been alone

[a-total-and-complete-nerd]

Brandon Sanderson: Fantasy vs. Sci-Fi

Almost all of BrandoSando's books straddle the line between the two genres, and after seeing @approximateknowledge's post here, I wondered how they would lay out on that chart. I was also inspired by this fascinating WOB about Skyward's genre. These are just my opinions, so let me know if you agree or what you think you'd change!

[97keanu]

Premise: Vampire!John Wick has caught your scent, and now there's nothing that will stop him from obtaining what he craves. You on the other hand, are enjoying a night on the town dressed as an angel for Halloween. You don't realize what a mistake you've made walking into a real vampire's path.

Tags/CW: DARK FIC, Vampire!JW, Being hunted, pred/prey, innocent!reader, angel coded!reader, bimbo!reader, dumb!reader, blood drinking, regular alcohol drinking, john is an evil vampire, dub-con, dead dove don't eat, hypnotism/hypnotized!reader, reader has a secret kidnapping!kink, reader has secret dark desires, knife kink in the form of claws, biting, teasing teasing teasing !!!, mind reading, reader who is a secret slut, reader who wants to be sacrificed, major character death mentions/teased, blood doll!reader, readers fate undetermined.

A/N: I've always had a thing for vampires. In this fic, I explore some of my favorite naughty kinks, and give you an extremely long and kinky sex scene between John and reader. Hope y'all like it, be sure to heed the content warnings ʚ♥︎ɞ

He has hunted your scent for miles. That sweet, delicious blood of yours calling to him in even the faintest amount. You poor, pretty little thing, that doesn't even know she's being hunted. You laugh with friends after dark, walking in groups for safety as you enjoy the Halloween festivities. You have no idea that it doesn't matter where you go tonight. That John has already decided your blood will be his, and so it shall be. You look so dolled up too, in your tiny miniskirt and frilly, barely-there white top. On your back, two perfect, tiny fake angel wings float along your figure, a costume halo atop your head. You look pristine, and John can only imagine what all that white will look like when he's done with you. It's as if you decided to serve yourself up on a silver platter for him, unknowingly.

As you walk about the city in wobbly, chunky platforms, you giggle into the night air with friends, the mist of your breath pooling in the sky above you. You don't notice in the sea of people that is New York, that you're being stalked. You don't see the man, moving silently from building to dark alleyway, inhaling your scent as deep as he can. You don't see the fangs, that glint under street lamps as he passes. They've grown so long from desire he can hardly keep them hidden behind his lips. Luckily for John, costumed Halloween goers flood the streets. A perfect time for a creature of the night like him to be so bold in public. Tonight, he will go unnoticed.

You however go into the next club on your bar hopping adventure without a care in the world. You don't see the dark figure slipping in behind you at a speed you can't even comprehend. You walk with an air of innocence and wide-eyed wonder. You gawk at spooky displays and laugh at slasher costumes as you walk by. You know that underneath that scary mask is just some greasy twenty-something who would love to get you in bed. As if.

The lights and music blare, and you are pulled by your friends to the dance floor. You're already feeling the heat of the cocktails you've had tonight in your body, and when you move to the rhythmic music, you feel your legs wobble along lazily. Your friends pass you another drink, you don't know from where, and you consume it happily. It's sweet, bitter aftertaste goes down easily, and you enjoy your night of being young and free.

A few men try to dance with you, but when you size them up, they're so not your type. They're just too young for you, even if they are likely the same age as you. You've always loved a more mature man, someone bigger and wiser than you who can really put you in your place. Half of you fantasizes about a man like that taking you from this hedonist pit of a club, pulling you into his car and driving away. You imagine he would take you back to his house just to tie you up and keep you kidnapped there against your will. The idea has always turned you on, but none of the men in this club tonight could ever give you something like that. You continue to dance with your friends, ignoring any drunkards who try to make a pass at you with an up turned nose.

The night continues on, and more drinks find their way into your hands. You happily take them, not caring how beyond drunk you are. As you're dancing, you slowly realize how seperated you are from your friends. You glance around, looking for them in the crowd, but see no one. Instead you feel the hair on the back of your neck raise. You feel as if you're the one being watched.

When you finally find the pair of eyes on you, you see the face of a handsome, older man in the crowd. You're surprised to see a man like him in a crowd like this. He seems so suave, so opulent, and through your drunken eyes, he also seems expensive, if not rich. You saunter over, slowly dancing through the crowd, until you're close enough to the staring stranger to see how intense his eyes really are. For a moment, fear washes over you, but you shake your head, deciding yourself silly for being afraid.

John can hardly hide his delight that he has caught you, his pretty little prey angel. He hears your thoughts about a man like him taking you away, tying you up, and using you like the hole you are. John has to laugh under his breath. You could never guess how true that sentiment really is. John can imagine doing more than just tying you up, though.

He watches as you walk right over to him, he can sense the fear rising up in you. You have every right to be afraid, but you still come, like the fly to the spider. You know it, in your heart, that John is a predator. Your own senses tell you, but like the silly human you are, you ignore them. Human's have lost all superstitions for creatures like John, it almost makes it too easy to trick you into letting him in.

John pulls you in when you get close enough, he has to hide how sharp his nails are, be gentle with your fragile body, but he still senses how rough he's pulled you in. In your drunkeness, you assume you've just tripped into him.

John feels your warm, tiny body against his, and you move like a siren, obviously not as angelic as you seem. Your body ungulates on his, rubbing your backside straight into John's cock. To your surprise, he's already hard, and you blush thinking it was so easy to do such a thing to him. You don't know that it's not just your body that's turning him on. No, it's what he's imagining doing to you after he's had his fun toying with you like this. It's that sweet blood that pumps in your veins so temptingly.

He let's his hands move up your body, caressing every curve, feeling your hips and gripping them into himself, imagining how he would take you later on. His hands continue up, pressing and playing with your breasts, and for a moment, you reach up for his hands, startled by how forward this strange man is being in public. He relents, his hands moving up to caress that pretty neck of yours. In your intoxicated state, you continue to allow him to play with you.

What you don't notice is John has slowly pulled you from the crowd, isolating you from the rest of the humans having a fun Halloween weekend. You don't even realize it until John is starting to move you through a back door of the club, the night air suddenly chilling you and ruffling the feathers of your wings. You turn to face him, and he smiles so sweetly. As he smiles you notice the sharpness of his teeth, and your mind tries to explain it away as a costume, but they look so real, and so sharp. Your instincts once again tell you to run, but with the way he's looking at you, you feel a pull to him you can't explain.

It's as if everything in your brain is telling you how dangerous this man is, but your body can't get enough of him. Even being so close now, his husky, earthy scent, similar to pine trees and steel, draws you in. You feel your body tingling where he touches you on your waist and back, his finger tips freezing. He reminds you of winter itself, cold and unmoving. But you are moving aren't you? When you notice your surroundings outside his intense, dark eyes, you see you've been drawn to a dark corner of the alleyway.

You look about and notice how quiet it is, how it's as if everyone else has been banished from the area, not even the rustle of wind is making a sound. No, the only sound right now you hear is of your increasingly alarmed breath. You look back to the strange man to see he has bent you backwards, your wings now barely brushing the dirty alley, your hair swept from your neck.

Suddenly, in the moonlight, those glinting fangs don't seem so fake. In fact, they seem so real you're shaking from it. Your rabbit heart thumps relentlessly, and suddenly adrenaline floods your body. You move to run, to jump out of his grip like a frightened doe, but his hands hold you like steel.

"Who--?" You begin to say, trying to muster a scream for help that doesn't come.

"My sweet angel," John speaks for the first time to you tonight, and your entire body goes cold. "You will be so delicious..."

John doesn't care to hide it anymore, the fear has overcome all else inside you, and you know that he is dangerous.

John takes his hands to your throat, turning your head so that he may look into your eyes. You look into them, those two dark orbs, and you feel that fear wash over you again as you realize how red they are getting. You must be imagining things, it must be the lack of light, but no, you're sure of it. This mans eyes are truly, deeply, darkly red. And just when you had mustered enough sense to want to run away, he's hypnotized you. His vampiric powers of manipulation wash over your mind, over your body. You feel a false sense of calm, and your mind tries to scream for your body to run, but you can't. You're stuck there, transfixed and mouth agape, your body wanting John more than anything.

Now that he has you in such a vulnerable state, he simply picks you up, carrying you bridal style to a spot he's already picked out. He takes you to a nearby apartment, abandoned and high up enough no one will hear you scream. He has outfitted the bedroom here as the perfect vampire nest. The windows are boarded from all light, the room is adorned with candles, and he's even brought in some tools to use on you. He will take his time with you, that much was certain. You want to struggle as he sets you down on the bed, but your body doesn't move. You look up at him like a lamb to the slaughter, waiting for him to break your pretty little neck.

"Hands." He says roughly, and before you can think to deny him, you're lifting your hands I front of you, doe eyes looking at him so pitifully full of tears that won't fall.

He ties your hands skillfully together, tight and inescapable. Then he ties your hands to the bedframe above you, and you look up from there, asking for some miracle to save you.

"There will be no miracles tonight. Not for you, angel." You glance at him, wondering how he read your mind. He laughs when he sees the confusion in your eyes, his fangs yellowed by the candle light.

"Don't worry, my sweet. Being able to experience all that you have in that pretty head of yours is just half the fun..." John pets your hair before he begins to undress you.

When it's time to focus on your clothes, he has an easy answer for that. He runs his claw along your body, so sharp that even the slightest bit of pressure would surely slit your delicate skin. You can feel the hypnotism waning, but suspect that he has done this on purpose.

"Yes... I have." John answers your thought. "Now, let's hear those lovely moans of yours."

You try to scream, and it comes out as a soft murmur, something akin to being strangled. You feel tears fall down your cheeks, and gasp as you feel John apply just enough pressure to slice through your mini skirt. He plucks it off of you the way one might pluck a petal from a flower. You watch as he tosses it away, feeling the cold air on your almost nude bottom half.

He works his way back up your body, still allowing his claws to glide against your baby soft skin. He reaches your top, and snaps the straps easily, pulling the top off to reveal your breasts to him. Despite everything, you can't help how easily wet your cunt is getting.

"You may try to deny me," John says, again pulling your feelings straight from your head. "But I know you've always wanted this. That's what drew me to your blood. You have the blood of someone who knows they're prey."

"N-no..." You attempt to say, but the words barely find their way out.

"Don't lie, I can see those dark thoughts at the back of your head. How you used to touch yourself to the thought of being kidnapped. How you wished someone would tie you up, just like this. Even just tonight, you thought of this. Don't start being a brat for me now, angel. Show me how badly you've wanted this." The last sentence is a command you must follow, and when John's hands have reached up to your glossy mouth, you have no choice but to open.

You feel him place two fingers so deeply inside your mouth, your pussy trembles at the thought that he might cut you there. It's as if he's placed a knife in your mouth, so gentle, but so deadly. You close your warm mouth around his cool fingers, sucking lightly. The thoughts you've had about scenarios like this before flash in your mind, no doubt John's influence.

While he keeps you pacified, he runs his free hand down your exposed body, taking care to hold your breast, feeling your beating heart behind it. The smell of your fear and pleasure mixing in your blood has John beyond hard, he doesn't know how much longer he can contain himself before biting or fucking you. He holds back his throbbing fangs, for now.

You watch helplessly as he pulls his fingers from your mouth, moving his body down yours, until his head is lined up with your soaking cunt.

"I can smell how badly you've wanted this from here..." John teases, and you bite your lip, embarrassed of how your body betrays you.

John plays with your white, lacy panties, pulling them so taut that your pussy lips get caught around them. You moan despite yourself as John plays with your panties just so, your engorged clit getting some wanted attention.

"You're so human...denying yourself the ultimate pleasure you've been seeking, I would never dream of such a thing." John muses as you writhe against your restraints, even this slightest touch driving you mad. You think of kicking John away, but your legs just won't work for you. He has you perfectly spread for him, tied up like a present, and unable to resist.

"I'm sure all your fantasies consist of killing young, helpless women. I'm not sure that counts." Your voice whispers in a chiding tone, and by the look of John's dark eyes on you, you wish you'd held your tongue.

John pulls your panties so hard against your tender clit you let out a small scream. He moves his face to meet yours, speaking directly to you as you lay there fearful, mouth open to silent screams.

"Yes, angel. I do kill young, helpless girls. Let's see if you can be a good girl tonight and change my mind." He watches the fear pool in your eyes, breathing in the scent of it with a smirk.

You try to hold his eye contact, try to be the brave girl who fights her attacker. But that's just not you. That's never been you. You've always been soft, easily guided this way or that. You've never been particularly smart, or witty. You've gotten by on your beauty alone for so long, that you made yourself think you were more powerful than you were. Really, you're just a lost little lamb, looking to be herded, but finding the wolf instead.

John can see that, hear that in your thoughts, and he reaches up, cups your face in his hand, and pulls your eyes back to his.

"I think if you expand your mind a bit, little lamb, you may even really enjoy being drained to death..." The way his cold eyes fill with excitement at this statement makes your stomach flop. It takes everything in you to pull your chin away from his hand.

He let's you, pulling back down to your glistening cunt. John pulls your panties up and places a sharp claw under it, the soft side of his claw brushing against your clit. In one fell swoop, he cuts away your panties.

You squirm and try to make your legs close, your whining coming out between sharp breaths as you try to fight this power over you. He slowly brings his face to your quivering cunt, looking up at you with those dangerous onyx eyes.

"The sooner you realize you've always been meant to be someone's plaything, the sooner you'll find yourself loving this..." He whispers, prodding more of those sick fantasies to flash in your head.

John let's his fangs flash in the light before letting his tongue taste you. His tongue is surprisingly cool, making you recoil, but with more movement, you hate that your hips try to buck into his mouth. He's teasing your clit every so carefully, moving perfectly to keep you on edge. Your entire body floods with pleasure that you try to keep at bay.

"You know you want more...ask me..." His voice breathes against your pussy, leaving chills to run up your spin.

You hate how right he is. You want this, you want this man, no, this monster to fuck you senseless. You can't believe how sensitive you're getting even at the idea that he kills you, that you become nothing but a meal for such a powerful creature. Your blood pumps loudly in your ears as you try to ignore him down there, try to will your body not to be so sensitive to his touch, to his tongue lapping at your cunt ever so gently. You should be fighting him, screaming for your life, scheming at least for how to get yourself out of this, how to save your own life.

But when you look into his dark eyes, you know it's no use. Any plan you could come up with, he would hear. Any escape, if you somehow got out of your restraints, was futile. He was stronger, faster than you in every respect. All you could do was lay here, shuddering against the monster that's tempting you to let them make you cum. What were you supposed to do? What would the smart, cunning, witty girl do?

"P-please..." Your voice summons, and John's ears perk up at the sound.

"Please what? What changed your mind?" He looks at you curiously.

"Please...make me cum. I've..." You take a deep breath and hold it as John gives a longer lick. "I've never been the smart one, or the one who was going anywhere big in life. I'm only useful as a hole to fuck. Please fuck me and make my pitiful existence mean something."

"And if I kill you?" John teases your pussy by lightly gliding his claws across it, the feeling similar to that of a cool blade being used.

"Then I would be happy to be of use to you..." You can't believe you've said this, but you can feel John pulling the words from you with his eyes.

You close your eyes after the last word, unable to look into John's eyes any longer. After a moment, when you hear nothing, you peek at him. He looks at you like a cat presented with a shiny new toy. His interest in you is piqued more than even before.

"Maybe you will be more than a temporary plaything..." John raised his eyebrows with a hint of laughter, the sentiment didn't help much to relieve you of your fear.

Seeing you so willing to admit how much a girl like you was meant to be nothing more than fuck meat and a meal made John's cock struggle against his pants. He has grown tired of smart girls who try to escape, it always ended the same anyways. Now you, you who can admit that they are prey, that was much more interesting. The way you sacrifice yourself to him made John feel like a king, no, a God.

He could feel himself throbbing with want, wanting to take you here and now, but he was a man of his word. He would make you cum first.

He returns to your cunt, served up for him perfectly, and begins to devour you much more than before. He licks with purpose, using his tongue to give you so much attention your eyes almost roll back from the intensity. What surprises you more, leaves you gasping is when he sucks your clit into his mouth, his teeth ever so gently applying pressure and new sensitivity. You quiver and your legs seem to not be your own, muscles tensing and squirming under John's touch. You feel John's hand hold your thigh down in place, his claws knicking your skin just slightly. The pain mixed with the pleasure John gives begins to send you over the edge. When you see the small droplets of blood begin to leak from your thigh, you cum for him, moaning into the night air.

As you settle down, your heart rapidly getting away from you, your eyes lazily open and watching John, you see him move his mouth to your thigh, lapping up the blood that's been spilt there.

John licks the wounds, and the close up, but tasting your delicious blood has him unable to hold back anymore. He needs more of it. Now.

John sinks his teeth into the soft flesh of your inner thigh, his fangs almost melting into your dainty skin. You cry out, and John bites deeper, his cock leaking from the sound of your despair, his mind reeling from how good you taste. Soon, he pulls his teeth back, sucking deeply of the blood that gushes into his mouth. As he begins to drink from you, an unimaginable wave of pleasure crashes over you.

You can barely contain yourself, your voice not your own, your moans of anguish and want, heedy and full of need. You've never felt such pleasure, not even from how well John made you cum moments before. You greedily relish in it as John drinks deeper, a free hand lifting to pet your sweet cunt, driving you mad with sensation. You feel yourself begin to cum again. Then again. And again as John continues to consume your precious blood.

John can feel your heart slowing, can sense your life force leaving you as he consumes your warmth. He has to force himself to stop, his muscles tightening and attempting to keep his jaw locked on your thigh. You're so high on pleasure you hardly notice how close to dying you really are right now. You feel yourself slipping away, as if falling into darkness and greeting it happily. Maybe he was right, maybe dying this way wasn't so bad...

John pulls his fangs from your thigh with great strength. He laps carefully at the two pinprick wounds, and watches as they slowly close, as if nothing at all had happened. You can barely hold your head up, your breath slow. You lay languidly, lolling about when John moves to get near your face.

He softly pets the side of your face and your eyes flutter open, looking up into his eyes the way Ophelia may have looked at the sky before succumbing to death. You watch, unable to process what's happening, as John slits open his own wrist, letting the blood there drop into your open mouth. The taste is sweet, bitter, and smoky, just like him. You swallow with great effort and John watches as your paleness slowly starts to perk up.

"You're going to be an interesting blood doll indeed..." He whispers as he pets your hair gently. "Now rest..." He commands and your world goes dark.

Taglist: @sunnythebunny7 @smutmaniac @worldsgreatestsinner

[dailyperkele]

DAY 27 - bnuuy 🐰

I have come back to annunce that Per'kele has converted to the cult of Sylvian hence he shall be a bunny man from this point onward.

..Also belated happy Easter and just in time happy April Fools!

[violetspark14]

hello fear and hunger community.my contribution

[rexscanonwife]

[The Imperial March motif plays softly in the background]

♡Taglist♡: @me-myself-and-my-fos @tiny-cloud-of-flowers @sunstar-of-the-north @dearly-beeloved @changeling-selfship @little-miss-selfships @silverhardt @bob-in-tekken-8

[lesbianalanwake]

Alan Wake II // The Eagles, "Hotel California"

[mirkwoodmunson]

smoking with Eddie and then you're straddling him and kissing and then a song comes on u really like so you are like dancing while straddling him and he's just watching u and maybe he starts undressing u while u lipsync to the song maybe huhuhu

HUUHHUHUHUUUU 🤪

“i was feelin’ done iiiin~ …”

“babe…”

“…couldn’t win…”

“please can we just—“

“i’d only ever kissed befooo-ooore~!”

“—watch this movie without—“

“you mean she..?! …uh-huh…”

“…christ…”

“i thought there’s no use getting! into heavy petting! it only leeeeads to trouble aaand…” you grab eddie by his cheeks and smoosh your noses together, staring him dead in the eye waiting for him to continue the lyric.

he can’t help it, squeezes his eyes shut and snorts, “seat wetting!”

you squeal and giggle and clutch his head to your bosom now where he sputters with laughter, lets you handle him as you will as you continue along with susan sarandon.

“now all i want to knooow! is how to gooo~!”

you playfully shove him away and he falls back into his pillows with a huff, grinning up at you with shining eyes as you shift up onto your knees on the sheets, singing into the invisible microphone clutched in your fist. with your other hand you point a lazy finger, and eddie pretends to nip at it.

“i’ll put up no resistance! i want to stay the distance!”

you crawl over his legs and as you do eddie cranes himself up while you lean over him, all teasing smiles and giggly and blushing cheeks as he slides hands over your thighs.

“i’ve got an itch to scratch, i need assiiistaaance~!”

his gentle slide turns into an eager grab as he hooks arms around your bottom, yanks you further into him as you yelp and eddie growls, susan continuing the song while your boyfriend devours your mouth in a hungry kiss. you’d teased him and now he had to touch you. when you separate for air you attempt to continue your cadence but it’s softer and a little gravely, hands roaming over eddie who pants softly and starts undoing the buttons of your shirt. your fingers graze the front of his pants and while he utters a light groan, you grin.

“you need a friendly hand, ohh i need aaaactioon~!”

eddie slides your shirt back and down your arms; you’d taken your bra off before movie night started and eddie is just over the moon with this information, uttering a needy sigh as he leans into your chest and offers it his gentle attention. as he kisses and licks, you smile and drop your head back, this time just mouthing along as susan belts out your exact sentiments;

“touch-a touch-a tooouch meee!”

eddie all but growls with a nipple pinched between his teeth, “i wanna be dirty.”

he hooks his hands by the backs of your knees and yanks you into him so you’re forced to lie back with a yelp, your crotch pulled snug against eddie’s hips. you disintegrate into a fit of giggles as eddie sits up and leans in over you, swallows your laughter, and susan continues to serenade over the noisy kisses and soft moans.

[bruisedknucklesandbloodykisses]

Boyfriend

CW: College AU; Unreliable narrator/reader; Delusional reader/Nobunaga; Unhealthy relationship; Lovesick reader; Insecurities (Reader); Possessive; Ignoring multiple red flags; Sexual content towards the end (Grinding, Messy Kisses)

Summary: You’re  hesitant to ask Nobunaga on a date due to not wanting to destroy your friendship with him. He has other views on the subject at hand.

Word Count: 2,094 Note from Knux: I just wanted to say that I was very inspired by this fic from @uvobreakmylegs (they have the best writing PLEASE-). But, seriously wanted to give credit where credit is due though!

You leaned against Nobunaga’s side, his steady breathing helping to distract you from your nerves. It was so silly how nervous you were; it was just a date after all- well, it would be a date if he accepted. The words seemed to die in your throat, turning into a hard lump that made it hard to breathe, every time you tried to ask the simple question: do you want to go on a date with me? 

Honestly, those words weren’t daunting at all and it was frustrating that you’ve never had any issues asking before. You were used to making the first moves on people you liked- sure, you haven’t done it since high school, but that’s besides the point. The point now is that you felt like you were drowning in your own emotions because you could spit out the damn phrase. 

You glanced up at Nobunaga, taking in his face: angular, lips drawn into a thin line and his dark eyes focusing hard on the text in front of him. It was funny to you how you had convinced him to join you on this little study date- it made you feel fuzzy inside. Though, you had finished your studies and were simply keeping him company now. Which, you didn’t mind. If it meant that you got to hang around the silly athlete, the better it was. 

You sighed, nestling closer to him, allowing your eyes to slip shut as you snuggled deeper into the blanket you wrapped yourself in. 

“Hmm, getting bored?” Nobunaga’s voice said, startingling you out of your dozing.

“Maybe,” you murmured against him, pressing your face further into his arm as you let your eyes slip close again, “but I don’t really mind if I get to sit with you.”

He snorted. “You sap. You sound like you really like me.” 

“Well, yeah.” You quickly added: “we’re friends after all.”

He went silent and you couldn’t help the way your stomach started to churn with a strange sort of anxiety. A frown tugged at your lips, peaking one eye open to glance up at him. He seemed irritated as he glared at the book in front of him. 

You slumped against him once again, both eyes open now, as you thought of how you (or what) had upset him. Nobunaga had a bit of a hairline trigger with his frustrations occasionally- you sometimes felt like you were walking a tightrope with him, but you didn’t really mind. It was just how Nobu was. Your silly friend who was sweet and always took care of you. Before him there was only you. 

A small smile pulled at your lips. How did you ever make it without him? 

“Ah, fuck- this thing is boring!” Nobunaga finally declared, slamming the book shut. 

You couldn’t help but giggle despite how he jostled you around when he crossed his arms and pressed himself back into the worn (but comfortable) couch in your living room. “How about you take a break, I’ll make some tea, that sound good?”

He grunted, sulking into the cushions while you unwrapped yourself and laying the fluffy blanket on his chest and tucking it behind his shoulders after you got up. He had grumbled but let you continue with your antics. You laughed as you went to the small kitchen in the apartment- nothing too fancy, just big enough for the fridge, a sink, an oven, and a little bit of counter space for a microwave and the odd times you wanted to bake. 

You reached into the cabinet right above what little counter space you had and pulled out two mugs. They were cute: a sleepy gray cat face and an overly excited white and tan puppy face for the other- they were round and the little cat reminded you too much of Nobunaga not to get. Though he had also insisted that he’d get the puppy one for you if you were getting the “damn cat” for him. 

You traced over the smooth porcelain with the tip of your finger. Maybe… maybe you could just let things be. Let them snowball into dating all on their own. At least, that’s how you hoped that they were going to snowball. The worries began to pile up as you got to work making the drinks. 

Nobunaga was a handsome guy with his angular features, fit form, and his glossy hair. The only downside to him was probably how radically his emotions could go from one end of the spectrum to the other but that was easily avoidable (at least you thought it was, there were several people who dined to disagree but you simply assured yourself that it was because of something they did. Not Nobu. Never Nobu). He could have any person in the world that he wanted if he really wanted- what was stopping him from pursuing someone prettier, more charismatic, more successful than you? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

There was a level of anxiety that shook in your fingers as you had finished Nobu’s and your tea, stirring honey in the calming herbal mix. 

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your wits. Your mind was wondering again. You need to stop before Nobu thinks something’s wrong because you won’t be able to control your tongue if he does. 

You nod to yourself before going to pick up the two mugs just to stop as a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist and a sharp chin rests against the junction of your shoulder. “What’s wrong?” Fuck.

“Nothing- nothing’s wrong.”

“Now, now,” he started to lean his whole body weight against you, causing you to catch yourself on the counter. “ Lying ain’t a good look for you and we both know it.” 

There was a certain edge to his voice that made your blood freeze. You had only heard it once or twice, just towards guys who didn’t know when to quit hounding and couldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Never at you. 

You licked your lips, squeezing your eyes shut as you willed your knees not to shake. “I-I’m not lying, Nobu-”

He shifted his feet, pressing himself even harder against your back, like he was trying to become a second skin. “Lying doesn’t look good on you.” He repeated, squeezing his arms around your stomach. Hard.

You wheezed, hands scrambling to hold onto his arms. Though, you made no attempt to pull him off. It was so fucked up how you were relishing in how close he was despite how angry he was at you. You just wanted to be held by him- be close to him- you wanted to be as important to him as he was to you. You just wanted to melt into him. 

What a horrible friend you were.

Your chest burned like you had ran a marathon and suddenly the world was spinning and your eyes were stinging with tears that rested heavy on your lashes. How pathetic. 

Hearing a sniffle come from you, something seemed to snap Nobunaga out of his frustrations. “Hey, you ok?” He began to loosen his hold on you, muscles relaxing until your shaking hands squeezed his wrists. 

“No…” You whimpered, “no, please- please don’t let go.”

You sounded so weak and frail. It made Nobunaga’s heart leap to his throat. He squeezed his arms around you again, much more gently compared to a few moments ago, but enough for you to know he had no intentions of leaving. 

It was a couple of moments until you stopped shaking. By this point, you were leaning back against him, hands still resting on his as he held you. His face nestled against your neck. “You feelin’ ok to talk?” 

He wasn’t letting this go, was he? You took a deep breath, releasing it as you nodded against the side of his head. 

He pulled away from you slowly until his face was level with your peripheral. His eyes were dark and observant. “What’s wrong?” 

Your throat felt tight again, but you still forced yourself to talk. “I- you- what… would you…” you lick your lips. “Would you date me? If I asked you out?” Your hands were sweating and you looked away, instead, focusing on the smooth skin of his arms, running your fingers over the sparse hairs. 

When he didn’t answer you began to shift, uncomfortable on your feet. Your skin feeling like it was boiling. This was stupid. You were stupid. You just ruined your friendship with Nobunaga. You’d never be able to see him again- you’d just have to sit like some stranger while he moved on with someone that was on his level- someone who was prettier, more talented- better than you. He was going to leave you behind and take your bleeding heart with him-

“I don’t get it.” You felt a sudden dread rest deep in your chest. He sounded mad. “Why do you always talk like that? Like we aren’t dating already?”

Huh?

Before you can voice anything, his hands come slamming on your counter, once again caging you. You can see the veins pulse on the side of his temple, frown deep as he seethes: “you think I act like this with everyone? Think that I get like this-” one of his hands glides down your spine, a gasp leaving you as when he grabs your ass in a tight grip and presses your hips hard against his. You gape. He’s hard. He’s so, so hard- “with everyone?” He begins to grind against you, hot breath moist against your cheeks as he huffs in frustration. Your hands scramble to hold onto his shirt, head spinning with too many things at once. “I only get this fucking hard with you- it fucking- oh, fuck- do you know how hard it is not to grab you and shove you face first into the closest surface I can? Not to rip you apart? You’re like- like a damn lamb: dumb and oblivious to everything around you-” he grunts when you hike your leg up on his hip (or try to, it’s a bit of an awkward endeavor considering how close he’s pressed against you). 

You’re desperate. You want more of his demeaning words. You want more and more of his attention. You want him to sink his teeth into you and rip you apart. Your blood boiling with white, hot want. “‘M sorry-” you gasp as you begin to rock your hips back against his; sloppy and uncoordinated. “‘M sorry, I didn’t notice. I was-” a moan wretches out of your throat. You crane your head back, the expanse of your neck presented to Nobu, who wastes no time pressing wet, open mouthed kisses against your salty skin. “You’re just so beautiful, there was no way you’d want to go out with someone like me-”

A growl comes from deep within his throat. His hands have come to dig into your hips, guiding you to grind harder against him. “You're so stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid- you’re mine. Mine. No one gets to see you like this.” He crushes his lips against yours. The kiss is all teeth and tongue- a mess of passion and repressed frustrations. 

You couldn’t get enough.

“‘M yours. ‘M yours-” you chant against his mouth, head spinning, close to the precipice of an orgasm. Teetering on a precarious line that, whichever way you end up tipping, you’ll be drowning in the euphoria of having Nobunaga suffocating you in his affections. 

He lets out a loud moan, all guttural and masculine, it has your legs trembling. He uses one hand to squeeze your cheeks, swirling his tongue with yours in a sloppy french kiss that has drool dripping from the corners of your mouth. “You’ve been mine since I laid eyes on you.” He pants, his forehead resting against yours, his hips coming to a stop. You whine at the loss of friction, the leg that is still hooked over his hip trembling with leftover electricity. He chuckles, pressing pecks to your lips. “I’m not letting you go.” You envy how even his voice despite having humped you like a dog in heat only a moment ago.

You nod, not trusting your voice. You would give him anything he asked for. Whatever to keep him near you. 

So, you follow him, with your heartbeat pulsing in your ears, as he pulls on your wrists towards the couch, tearing your clothes from your body. You accept that he’s going to tear you apart with open arms.