#honestly dance was always my weakness

[rosicheeks]

Do you like to dance?

[enchantressiren]

❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲.❞

What is it about you that makes your lover crawl to you?

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Not a tarot card reading, only based on my intuition.

Regular intuitive readings, no 18+ ( @sefinaa )

Authors note,

Can be for both lover and future lover.

Divider

Pile 1:

Your eyes and eye color

Your lover adores your eye color, there is something about it that they cannot get enough—it surprises them as well. Because for them, they never cared about the color nor the eyes, it doesn't make any sense for them because it’s just eyes, right? But no.

Let’s get to the main details:

You have a seductive gaze with them, your eyes always look them up and down, even if it is unintentional. You make them wet, and they crave your essence, they crave everything about you. They want you to gaze into their eyes as they do the deed because it makes them lose it.

“God.. god damn it. You’re killing me with your eyes but I fking love it. Just like that..” that’s what I hear from them. I also hear from my intuition that some of you have doe eyes, like puppy dog eyes or you do it to tease them or when you want something and that’s literally their weakness. They would travel to the moon and back just to see those “puppy dog eyes” because it’s just that cute. For those with doe eyes, it’s a sucker for them because it’s the first thing they notice and every time they remember doing the deed with you, they remember the eyes.

I also see them making love to you until you sob and beg for them to stop, of course they won’t because of your eyes. I don’t see them hurting you at all, it feel as they are hypnotize with you, the way you’re sobbing and it gets stuck in your throat to the way they see you gazing into their eyes at the same time.

Honestly, at this point, you’re their weakness.

Pile 2:

Neck

I hear that they’re into choking, light or not depending on how you’re with it. It’s a huge turn on for them and since your neck is beautiful in their eyes. I am smelling something nice like vanilla as I channel this, so perhaps you always put moisturizer or scented lotion on your neck, or even take care of it and use sunscreen on it, whatever it is, it is soft and nice for their hands to grab on when they do pound into you or play with you as you whimper for them.

As mentioned your neck is soft, so I also see them caressing it a lot when you have make out sessions. A small scene:

I caress your neck and kiss your mouth as you swirl my hair as we both dance into ecstasy. As I love to touch you, I must only deliver you pleasure as your sounds are my existence and death. Surely you must understand, your beauty and essence is too precious to harm so I must ask your consent when I choke you as I make love to you. Are you okay with it, my sweet?

Consent is a key to this, yes, making love is consensual, but they are hesitant to choke you during it. I see they had a bad accident with it (they must tell you, I cannot) and it makes them nervous about it. Reassurance them about it and they should be fine.

Pile 3:

Your upper body

Something about your chest and upper body is what makes them craw to you.. and they will literally crawl to you. I see them wearing a collar and you’re pulling the leash as they seductively crawl to you in something sexy. That’s the whole vibe I’m getting.

When they take over (being in control), they will caress your chest and leave marks on it. A mix of hickeys and love marks, if your lover likes wearing red or pink lipstick than they will leaves their lipstick marks on your body, making your bare upper body as their canvas. The most beautiful canvas and muse. I see many kisses on the chest, especially around your nipples. I don’t see them kissing it though because it’s their favorite sweet, they need to have their fun with it.

I also see them caressing your sore body after love making too, I see their soft hands caressing and playing with them without any sexual intent, pure love.

Lastly, I can also see them burying their face into your chest, even if it’s not sexual, because they love it. A comfort for them because it’s so warm and squishy. So for those who have breasts (regardless of your gender because everyone is welcome but anyways (intuition thing)), they don’t care about the size because they love the warmth of it. Sometimes they want suck and lick it as you do something (let’s say an online class) so they can see your face contort into pleasure as you try to hide it from everyone. They would also want to caress and rub it as well. Even small bites and nibbles.

Pile 4:

Your bottom

In all honesty, if I were to summarize this channeled message, they’re a bottom person. Literally. That’s it.

I’m not seeing anything that would harm your bottom, so no spanking at all. But I do see them constantly squeezing it and during love making as well. I also see them kissing it while they eat you out or give you head.

I’m not channeling much for this pile which is a pity but I do see a scene.

I see them kissing you passionately and intensely, they then slowly gown down to your intimate area and kissed your hips as they caress your groin, all while they gaze into your eyes and expect you to feel embarrassed, blush or feel shy about it. They then will squeeze your butt and leave kiss trails on your thighs, and if you have scars on it, they kiss it further or in depth showing you that you're gorgeous either way. Afterwards, they will flip you over and slowly go back to your neck and leave hickeys, (if they wear lipstick, it’s lipstick marks) and then slowly go down your back leaving kiss marks to enjoy your beautiful bare body and then down to the butt while whispering sweet nothings so you cannot hear, but feel as they’re complimenting you from the heart.

[whatswrongwithblue]

Alastor Headcannons

Fem cat demon reader in a relationship with the Radio Demon

SFW

Rosie introduced him to you. Maybe not necessarily with the idea that you two would be romantic, but she saw similarities between you two and knew you would eventually hit it off.

Once you stopped constantly arguing, that is.

The man had been an Overlord for so long and had sworn off attempting romance for an even longer period, that he genuinely did not recognize his feelings for you as romantic inclinations at first.

He knew he liked you. Admired you. And enjoyed your company. Could talk to you for hours about anything and everything. So obviously that meant he wanted to own your soul.

That blew up in his face – almost literally.

He quickly found out there was nothing he could offer you, or do to you, including putting you in harms way, to force you into making any kind of deal with him. He couldn’t make himself do a damn thing to you. And that scared him and made him avoid you for a long time after that.

But when you two did eventually reunite, it was a lightbulb moment for him, and he pretty much immediately started pursuing an actual relationship with you.

PDA isn’t really his thing, besides hand holding and possibly a hand on the small of your back if he’s feeling extra possessive or wanting to show you off.

The biggest exception to this rule is dancing. He loves to take you dancing.

Surprisingly, he really doesn’t mind others knowing you two are an item.

Some might think he’d want to hide it, worried that others would see you as a weakness to exploit but honestly? Who would dare go after something the Radio Demon held in such high regard. Let them try, my dear.

In private, if he’s in a good mood, he’s quite the sweety.

His love language is definitely acts of service and quality time.

He’ll want to start each day relaxing, enjoying coffee and breakfast with you. He cooks. And throughout the day he really enjoys just being the same room with you, even if you’re both absorbed in your own tasks.

In private, if he’s in a bad mood, he’s very distant.

Don’t touch him and try not to interrupt his work.

He’ll still unconsciously show his affection for you by letting his guard down in these moments.

He’ll let his mask slip a little, show you how upset he is when he would never let anyone else know what’s capable of actually getting under his skin.

He’ll be in some disheveled state. Have his jacket off, or bow tie undone, or hair tied back. He’ll have his microphone across the room. Little things to show he’s still comfortable being vulnerable with you but still . . . best not push it because then he’ll get a little mean.

If you’ve accidentally hurt his feelings in some way, then the insults will start. He’ll call you annoying or dramatic, but he won’t raise his voice unless you do first. He rarely swears so when he does, you know he’s completely at his wits end with you or with whatever else has upset him.

He would never ever lay a hand on you.

If he’s really pushed to the edge, his power might be harder to control. Lights may break, his shadow will go nuts on the wall around you, and he’ll even take on a more demonic, imposing form, but you’ll still feel completely safe in his presence.

Have I mentioned how rare these arguments are? There’s a reason why he’s comfortable enough to be in a relationship with you, because 99% of the time, you understand each other perfectly and can calm the other one down.

At the end of a “no touch day” he’ll usually come find you and initiate some type of cuddle. Usually once you’ve already gone to bed.

He’ll slip under the sheets behind you, probably still a little damp from a shower, and either be the big spoon or, if you’re awake, rest his head on your chest while you stroke his ears.

Those ears are mighty sensitive. Not in a sexual way, but it always sooths his exhausted nervous system when he allows you to touch them like that.

That, and your purrs. No lullaby in the world is as potent as the mesmerizing sensation of your purrs when his body is laid close against yours.  

It took him a few months to admit it, but after the first time he told you he loved you; he says it all the time. His mother always told him you couldn’t overuse that phrase if you meant it, so you tend to hear it multiple times a day.

He isn’t fluent in Louisiana Creole, but he knows a few phrases, and will slip into the native accent of his youth and whisper them in your ears when he’s trying to sooth you if you’re the one upset.

He took decades to propose. You never pestered him about it, but Rosie did – and that probably made him take even longer to get around to it than if she had just let it alone.

Neither of you were super into the idea of a big ceremony but then word got out and half of Cannibal Town was asking about Save the Dates so you two decided that while the vow exchange would be short and sweet, the reception would be a fucking party.

NSFW

Sex had not been a part of this man’s life for a very long time.

He’d only been in two brief relationships, once as a teen, and once later to appease his mother, and neither one exactly went well.

Even his rut, which makes most other demons sex-crazed, used to just make him more aggressive and territorial. The physical aspects of it were easy to take care of in private, so he never had to seek out other outlets.

But then you came along and while it still wasn’t as much of a priority for him as it was for you, he still found himself enjoying and even desiring that kind of intimacy with you.

For the first time in . . . well, ever . . . he found himself initiating sex with someone, rather than the other way around, and you found yourself pleasantly satisfied whenever he was in the mood.

Don’t get me wrong, he could still be - and was often - very touch adverse, especially after a difficult day.

But if he’s happy and relaxed and you’re around . . . you two are going to end up under the covers.

He used to hate his tail. He’d even cut it off more than once, but it always grew back. But you liked it and he liked anything that pleased you. And then you started touching it during intercourse and he really liked that.

If the guy has one cum button, it’s you stroking his tail while he’s inside you.

It also really helps that you are so comfortable with your tail and you constantly let him touch it.

He’s definitely a top. Sex is just not interesting to him unless he knows you’re getting off, so it’s either mutual pleasure or your pleasure, but he doesn’t care for anything that involves just his body.

You enjoy going down on him, and it’s okay for him, at least for starters, but he rarely lets you do it for very long. It’s just . . . boring, for him. He’ll compromise and 69 if you’re really in the mood for that kind of thing.

He gets very excited when you’re in heat.

It’s the only thing that can -almost- always override his touch aversion on a bad day.

The idea of you wanting him that much, to the point of it being a near constant physical need for him to be inside you, really gets him going.

He wears out faster than you do, but even after he can’t get it up anymore, he has a multitude of other appendages (fingers, tongue, tentacles) and even some toys that he thoroughly enjoys using on you until you are finally sated.

He’s not one for dirty talk. It makes him uncomfortable, and he finds it distracting. He stays pretty quiet himself during sex, but he loves the needy little moans and whines you make.

He does bite.

And slap your ass.

He’s not usually one for restraints or whips, but he does enjoy marking you with his teeth and claws. Again, this man wanted to own your soul, so he’s going to enjoy leaving physical reminders all over your body that you are his.

His rut is much harder to handle now that he’s sexually active.

And he’s very different in bed when he’s in a rut.

That’s when he dirty talks.

And that’s when he really gets rough.

You have on more than one occasion been face fucked to the point of choking and tears.

And those shadow tentacles really come out to play during that time of year.

They’ll be wrapped around your body, your neck, limbs, etc. They’ll fuck your mouth, your ass, any part of you that his cock isn’t in. He wants you completely controlled and filled up by him when he’s fucking you in his rut.

And he can go for a very long time. Multiple times. You learned after the first year to just plan on taking a vacation that time of year because really, other than eating and sleeping, he pretty much demands that’s all you two do.

He can sometimes lose control of his power and his bodily form during sex.

You’ll know when he’s close to climax because those antlers get massive and his eyes tend to go black. And if he’s in a rut, he can get a little  . . . big.

Like, all of him. His entire body. But also yes, his dick gets larger then, too.

One time, you were just about to say you were getting stretched a little too much down there, and his weight was starting to crush you, when he literally broke the bed. That’s all hot and steamy in romance novels, but you just about broke your tail that night and ended up nearly impaled by the bed frame.

Another time, he got his antlers stuck in the backboard of the bed and that was even more embarrassing for him than breaking the actual bed had been because it took him so long to calm down enough to control the size of those things and meanwhile you had just been pinned beneath him and laughing hysterically at the very horny, very frustrated, very stuck husband of yours.

He’s a self-inflicted insomniac and doesn’t let himself sleep much, so after sex, he tends to pass out next to you and when he finally wakes up, he usually insists you join him in the bath or shower for some aftercare.

He’ll help clean any wounds that haven’t already healed, massage your overworked muscles, and verbally check in with you that he didn’t take things too far. Especially since after a rough rut-induced session, he gets awfully insecure about the things he did to you in the heat of the moment.

Of course, you’re always happy to ensure him that you really enjoy that side of him and you’ve never felt like he’d taken anything too far with you.

(P.S. These are some ideas I worked through on what this ace-spectrum Overlord man would be like in a committed relationship for my new OC wife x Alastor fic. I’ve been working on it for weeks now and am just about ready to start posting. It’s been very difficult writing him truly in character while also navigating meeting my OC, coming to terms with his feelings for her, and how he would behave as a partner/husband. For this post - so that it can be its own standalone work - I’ve changed all the wording to Y/N, with the only specifics being that Y/N is a cat demon. But if you really enjoyed this, I hope you’ll stick around for The Fire in the Sin. It’s going to essentially be all of the above turned into a novel, that’s half prequel and half current events for Hazbin Hotel.)

[bigfatbimbo]

HATE SEX RIVAL LUTE idc dom reader dom lute my switch ass would be happy either way i just need need need this 🙏

Lie still, close your eyes girl, so lovely it feels so right —

Lute x reader,, 2.5 words

a/n — I literally did not mean to make this so long, I literally blacked out or something. Anyways, more Rival!Lute shit here, here, here and here. You don’t actually need to read any of those to understand what’s happening, though.

warning — heavy smut, afab but gn reader, VERY SWITCHY ROLES, dom reader but also dom Lute, scissoring, fingering, weird angsty sex, also it takes like 800 words for the sex to actually happen, honestly probably kinda cheesy

summary — After years of fighting with a sinner who’s well gifted in combat, Lute finally looses control and… well… they fuck.

The fight was close, just like always. Every move Lute made to strike was blocked gracefully by you.  Her swift moves were countered by your calculated blocks, followed by your precise jabs in her direction.

Each extermination day, the dance was set in stone. You, a fowl sinner from the trenches of this mortal plane, would be in the very same place each year. Always to fight Lute, a skilled angel soldier with immense training and knowledge on the battlefield. 

The odds should have been in Lutes favor, but just like last year and the year before that, they never were. It wasn’t that she lost the fights, because she would never let that happen. But it was the fact you kept up with her so well that infuriated her. 

Her strikes became tougher, the growl in her voice unmatched. 

“Someone’s angry this time, huh, Lute? You afraid of a good time?” You drew back with a smile, playfulness in your voice contrasted the blow you just laid to her stomach, “Or are you just tired of losing to a sinner?” 

Lute hisses in response, falling behind you and grabbing the back of your shirt, spinning you around to get a better angle, “Don’t kid yourself, I don’t lose. You know that, demon.”

There was not only a venom in her voice, but an anger that could only be explained by the emotion of mild exasperation. She wasn’t tired of fighting or ‘losing’, she was sick of not winning. Her grasp on your shirt loosened when you took a millisecond to examine her position, which conveniently left her stomach exposed, before kicking her hard right where she was open. 

Falling back, she yelped, not expecting the sudden pain. That was another thing that filled her with a bitter rage each year, angels shouldn’t be able to get hurt. And yet, you always managed to make her feel the slightest bit, if not a decent amount, of pain after a fight. 

What she would give to make you feel the same thing, what she would give to make you feel that pain. She wasn’t obsessed, however, no matter the countless nights she’s spent thinking about it. And disregarding what she did to cope on those nights. 

“Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to kick you that hard,” You drew in closer with your weapon, bracing yourself to lay a blow in. This year, it wouldn’t be a draw. This year, in your eyes, would be the year you finally win.

Your hands rise above your head, ready to strike, when you falter. Lute was looking at you with her usual glare of hatred, clutching her stomach, and calculating her next move. But it was your weak moments that certain thoughts overtook you. How could it be helped? She looked so pretty. 

“Too slow, now you’re done for,” Lute sneered, smile growing as she lunged at you, spear clashing with yours as you barely block it. Your body’s were nearly pressed together, as she pushed the wood of her spear harder against yours, trying to break it.

Then her sneer flickers down, “What are you looking at?” She pants, catching her breath after the stimulating action. 

“Your have—“ you breath, “—very pretty eyes.” Your eyes don’t falter with contact, until she looks down. Your superficial attempt to distract her, unlike usual, failed to work.

As if snapping out of a trance, she finally analyses the situation. This is it. All it took was that one moment, and your fucking finished.

“Well i’m glad you think so,” she starts quietly, “Because they’re going to be the last thing you see before you fucking die.” 

She forcefully pushes back with the base of her spear, acting too quick for you to strike back, and swiping your feet. 

“Finally,” she almost laughs, “Finally, I win, you vile demon. I win—“

You slide your foot behind her calf and tug her forward, making her fall into the space next to you, leaving you time to roll on top of her. 

The wit in your voice was gone and replaced with bare survival instinct. Her hands go to grab her weapon but instinctively you pin them down. 

With nothing left to do, you simply stare at eachother, catching your breath and panting heavily.

Lute glared up at you with confusion, anger, and then something else. The light fell on the top of your head, illuminating a vague sketch of a halo around it. But you were no angel, Lute knew that. And yet something about the way you were looking her made Lute think, if you told her you were sent from heaven she would not only believe you, but curse god himself for not sending you sooner.

Angels don’t make mistakes, they’re perfectly sculpted to be flawless, and this is something Lute has always believed. Which is specifically why the following events confused her. Your grip on her wrists weakened, given her an opening to break free. And still, that’s not what she did with her new freedom. 

Strangely enough, when the constraints your hands acted as broke, she didn’t run away, or even fight back. Instead, she grabbed your collar, pulling you impossibly close, and doing something no one with the title ‘perfect’ would ever do.

You’ve always tested the limits of what she considered ‘possible’ as an angel. You condemned her with scars, when angels were incapable of getting hurt. You plagued her thoughts with lust, despite the ideas you filled her head with being overtly sinful for heavens standards. And now, you’ve provoked the, arguably, best exterminator soldier into making an irreversible mistake. 

But the extermination wasn’t on her mind as her lips slammed against yours, nor was heavens consequences. The only coherent thought in her head was a simple idea; despite your hatred for her, you kissed her back. Not just eagerly, but with twice as much force. 

And then, for whatever reason, reality came back to her. Brutal rage, no, violence filled her as she felt your lips on hers. To call it rage would be wrong. Yes, she did feel the necessity to cause harm to your well being, but something foreign dawned on Lute at that moment. An animalistic need for you, one that, despite being tainted by her hatred for you, was truly only fueled by it.

In one motion, she rolled you over, pining you to the ground by your shoulders and going back in for another kiss. Your lips were poison, that was undeniable, but the taste was sweet enough to distract from the deadly venom filling Lutes stomach. 

“Look what you’re doing, sinner,” She hissed into your mouth, “Your turning the blessed into the damned, you slut. Haven’t you been cruel enough?”

Her words were spoke with such a blaze of passionate disdain, you almost were at a loss for words. Almost. 

“Your seriously trying to blame this one me? I think it’s pretty obvious, Lute,” You speak inbetween mildly unpleasant, aggressive kisses, arms falling on either side of her hips as she pulls you into her by your shirt collar.

“You’re just dying to fuck me.” 

Your words made Lute temporarily stop, shoving you down and removing her hands from your shirt, and shifting away. 

You smirk at the annoyance on her face as she moves down your body, “Aw, sweetheart, don’t tell me I scared you away. I’d hate to loose the pleasure of your company—“

Her teeth launch into your neck as she struggles to pull your pants down, making you yelp in temporary pain. You feel her smile into the bite mark. 

Lute breathes in anticipation, savoring every moment of her fingers dancing down to your belt, and slipping into your bottoms. How many nights had she spent thinking of this moment in utter, crushing shame? And how many hours afterwards had she berated herself for thinking such vile things?

She didn’t have to think anymore, and soon, you wouldn’t be able to. She relishes in the gasp you let out when she teases her finger to the opening of your pussy.

“Fuck!” You hiss as she slips her finger into your already dripping cunt, “Eager there, are we, Lute?”

Your confidence had already begun to falter. In this fight, it was true, Lute was winning. God, did she devour every shaky breath you took as she began to move her finger inside of you.

“You know demon, I wouldn’t have thought you’d be so wet so soon,” Her other finger teased your entrance, as her first one worked itself more aggressively as the seconds passed, “I just thought you’d have more self control. I guess there are just some fights you can’t keep up with.”

You let out a hiss of disapproval, “Fuck— uh, consider it a compliment Lute. That’s just how much I wanted your crazy ass.”

Lute snickered, your comment lacked your usual wit. You were responding for the sake of responding, not because you had anything clever to say. Pathetic, just as she suspected. Just as she always fucking knew you would be. 

“And I doubt you’re doing much better over there, asshole,” You sneer, drabbling on for more than necessary, “Fuck, ah—”

During your fights, one of the things that infuriated Lute the most was your seemingly perfect composure, never once breaking your playful facade no matter how many blows you took. Now, your fragile character was finally breaking.

All the more reason, the next finger she added, she practically shoved inside you. “Aw, look at that. Prideful sinner,” She tutted smugly, “Looks like someone’s a sore loser.” 

Her fingers worked themselves inside you relentlessly. Every single move implied pure, unrequited hatred. It was a sick kind of attention, but you’d kill to have it more. Despite the flirtatious demeanor of yours finally being compromised, you wouldn’t say it was in vain.

No, certainly not when she was finger fucking you so good. The anger was present and unbreaking with every thrust inside of you, only fueling what was the long burning fire of arousal within you. She would ruin you, just as you would do to her, and god, it was welcomed.

Every motion inside your right cunt led to an embarrassingly priceless moan from you, just as your witty comments turned into mumbles of hatred and fowl wishes upon Lute and her kind. 

But just as your climax drew close, Lute pulled her fingers out. She glanced at them proudly, as if standing over a field of conquered enemies. She basked the moment in, before licking her fingers boastfully. 

“You know, I really thought you’d last longer, demon,” She grinned, “But you really are pathetic, you know that?”

However, by then the neediness in your empty cunt had been replaced by a dull irritation at Lutes demeanor. You were enemies for a reason, and it seemed she forgot how equal the two of you were. 

Too cocky, you think, and far too slow. In one swift movement, you flip her over, pining her to ground just as she had you just moments ago. 

“Is that so, Lute? That’s big talk for someone who lost to a demon for years and years.” Your hands go to stop her wrists from shooting up, “I’m really not the pathetic one here.” 

“I didn’t lose!” Lute struggled against your grip, but strength aside, your position prohibited her from shooting up to regain her control. 

“And what to you call this, then?” Your grin had formed again, but it didn’t distract from the aching from your pussy, “Typical angel fashion. You never leave yourself open like that, Lute. You should know that.”

You scorn her as you free a hand to trail under her skirt and tug her panties down. You’re lucky you get them half way off before she jumps up again. Your hands are quick to catch hers, however. 

“Hm, who’s the sore loser now?” You taunt, shifting the position drastically so that you have both wrists pinned down with one hand above her head.

While Lute struggles against your grip, you use your other arm to host her leg over yours, drawing both of your open cunts daringly close to each other.

“Don’t be stupid, Lute. Do you want me to deal with that mess or not?” The mess in question being her, as suspected before, soaking pussy. 

She grimaced up at you. Before she had the chance to bite you back with a useless reply, you started sloppily grinding your pussies together, earning a moan of pleasure from Lute, and a groan of relief from you.

“Oh fuck—“ She curses breathily, leaning her head back and pushing her legs further into yours, chancing the friction between the two of your aching cunts, “This doesn’t— this doesn’t mean I like you, demon.”

“You know Lute, you’ve made that abundantly clear over the past session,” You speak through gritted teeth and furrowed brows as you start to move faster. 

The slick, filthy, slapping noises that filled the area with around you, filled Lute with an all too familiar feeling of anger at her losing battle. 

“Your fucking perverted sinner filth,” Lute spat out, cutting her sentence off with a terrible hoarse moan, “You were the dirt of the earth when you were alive and now your— ah— even worse in hell.”

“Uh-huh,” you remark, focused on the grinding of your parts against hers, having to take a moment to gather a reply. “I get that you hate me, dumbass. You don’t have to waste your breath—“ you groan with pleasure, “—I’d like to not hear your terrible voice right now, thanks.”

“Fuck you,” she growls, but the threat of her bite is nearly completely gone when her sentence is punctuated with the arch of her back. 

Your speed only increased as you felt the building of your climax, and from the way Lute looked right now, you guessed hers followed soon. In all truth, you didn’t really hate the sound of her voice. In fact, the desperation in it  made you swell with incredible pride. But then again, you guessed she felt the same way about you right now. 

“Fuck, Lute, ‘m close,” You moan, mostly to yourself. You thought about throwing in an insult at the end, after all, it seemed like the only way you were able to hear each other, but you decided against it.

She didn’t need to hear you, but you did bask, like her in your desperation, in her cries below you. Despite the immense, and probably foreign pleasure she felt, the jeers never stopped. 

Even in an intamiate moment like this, she was still the “mediocre angel” and you were the “vile demon.” And even closest to both of your climaxes, you were sure to remind each other. 

But it was then that both of you realized, between the switching of positions and roles, the year long build-up to the final ‘winner’ was worthless. 

The fight, just as usual, was a draw.

a/n — THE SONG TITLE WAS ‘Tear You Apart’ BY SHE WANTS REVENGE BY THE WAY. Boy, this one’s been in drafts for a long time.

I forgot how much fun it was to ruthlessly project onto characters! I have no one to thank but my life for being so terrible and confusing and awful and terrible and

[all444miles]

can you please do 42!miles with a baddie like a Megan type vibe? SHE HAS A PINK JEEP

💗💗💗💗

— SHE A BADDIE

— pairing: e42!miles x fem!black!reader — genre: fluff — summary: what its like for 42 miles to date a reader with a "baddie like megan" vibe. — a/n : i felt like i was a lil lazy writing this, sorry ! can yall tell i got excited abt the jeep n the attitude part.. its litch what kept me writing this whole thing 😭 also, a car creeper is those lil things u slide under to fix the underside of ur car — a/n 2: changed the way i start writin a jus a lil, petition for head over heels 42 miles supremacy !! + this was so fun.. like i was writing this n i was like "lemme be this when i grow up" LMAOOO so ty for the request anonnn, mwah and enjoy !!

MILES FALLS IN LOVE with you every second. like, honestly, just do anything, he's wrapped around your finger.

maybe he'll try and hide it, but you make him fold 24/7. you dont even have to do nothing.

it's just something about your energy, the way you dont give a damn about nothing, he just loves it. y'all are like beast boy and raven.

"mama, you killin' me right now." "hm? did i do somethin'?" "i love you so, so much. i swear, you make me weak." "aww, hun, I love you more." "yeah, keep dreamin'. now, lemme love on you."

hype man, hype man, HYPE MANN

when I say if you want to do anything he's here for it, he's here for it.

you wanna get your hair done? he's at your service.

you wanna go to the mall? he's already throwing you the keys to your jeep.

you wanna get your nails done? show him your options (he always likes the french tips, esp this.)

"Y'know Miles, i think this set ain't looking too good no more.." "You wanna get new nails?" "Mhm, wanna help me pick?" "'Course I do, let's see em."

does not care what you wear, he's always gonna say you look gorgeous. plus, he can fight. but, he's always got his hands on your waist. always.

you're your own girl, he knows that. he spoils you, yes, but he'll always let you do your own thing.

he can't explain it, but when you refer to him as "my man", or your anything, really, it does something to his heart.

yk when latto goes "ty to my man"? yeah, that's you.

"My nails? Yeah, my man helped me pick 'em."

you have attitude. Miles doesn't mind, he's a "yes ma'am" kind of guy, but if it's to him, hes gonna shut you down.

a lot of the times, you won't care, and it won't end in an argument, becuase he's still shutting you down regardless.

"Miles, you lost your shit or sum." "Amor, drop that tone f'me, aight?"

you are a party animal, and Miles? He'll just be in the back, watching you do your thing with your friends. If you ask him to dance with you though, he will for sure.

Will he throw money on you? Yes, yes he will. (Not sexual btw !)

Your jeep. He has his own car, but he honestly loves yours the best.

He helped you decorate it, all pretty and pink

He will happily get in your jeep while you blast Megan or Rihanna because c'mon now, who wouldnt?

I'm insistent he's good with mechanics, so he'll tune your car whenever you need him to, bryson tiller or tory lanez playing while he does so. (i'm losing my shit rn.)

"Cariño, ¿puedes pasarme esa llave inglesa? It's to ya left." (Baby, can you pass me that wrench?)

he'd say, sliding out from the car creeper under the hood of your pink jeep, sliding back in after you passed him the tool.

and after about 15 minutes, he'd come back out, putting a dirty cloth over his shoulder, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

its a sight to see: white tank top, slightly stained with grime from fixing your car; his favorite gold chain glistened in the sun, adorned with beaded glints of sweat from his neck.

"Aight, i think she's good, you can start her up if you wanna." "Yay! thank you for fixing my car, baby, I love youu."

you'd squeal, wrapping your arms around his neck to plant a kiss on his cheek, your pink tinted lip gloss staining his face.

"Ain't no problem princesa, I love you too."

© all444miles 2023. do not plagerize, copy, or repost my work in any way shape or form, without my permission.

likes, reblogs, comments and asks are always appreciated !

[atinystraynstay]

Dancing In the Dark - Wen Junhui

Synopsis: Didn't you know the most romantic place in someone's home is their kitchen?

Inspiration: Dancing In The Moonlight - King Harvest

Pairing: Idol!Wen Junhui x GN!reader

Genre: domesticated life fluff! established relationship

Word Count: 1.3k

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Slowly, your eyes fluttered open to reveal a dark moon. The only source of light came from the moonlight trying to shine through the curtains. You glanced towards the digital clock on your nightstand. 1:17am. You mentally groaned as you didn't want to wake your sleeping fiancé beside you.

Your head turned to see Jun beside you. His bangs fell in front of his face, almost touching his closed eyelids. He looked absolutely peaceful. His chest rose and fell gently, one hand on his chest while the other rested on your leg. He always needed to have his hand on you in some aspect when he slept. You found the habit adorable, especially one that happened when he was unconscious.

You wanted so desperately to lean over to kiss his cheek, but you worried about waking him. Your body screamed for you to move out of bed while your mind wanted so desperately to go back to sleep. There was only one solution.

Ever so slowly, you pushed yourself out of bed to head towards the kitchen. You shivered as your feet touched the cold wooden floor. This time, moving rather quickly, you snatched one of Jun's hoodies that rested on the floor. You slipped that over your body, sighing in relief at being draped in some sort of warmth.

Gathering enough willpower, you began your venture out of your shared bedroom towards the kitchen. You were grateful that Jun stopped by the convenience store on his way home from work to pick up your favorite tea brand. You had just ran out this morning.

Once you arrived in the kitchen, you went over towards the cabinet. Your footsteps were extremely light, emphasizing your groggy state but also trying to do whatever it takes to allow Jun to sleep soundly. You opened the overheard cabinet slowly, breathing in sharply through your teeth as they screeched slightly. Fuck.

You paused to ensure that there was no movement coming from upstairs. Just because you were up didn't mean you had to disturb your lover.

When you didn't hear a sound, you continued on with your mission. You grabbed your favorite white mug, being careful not to hit it against the other mugs as you pulled it out. You then closed the cabinet, trying your hardest not to make it screech again. If there was something about you and Jun, you always had enough mugs to serve everyone who might come over.

Over the past few months of living with Jun, you've become skillful at stopping the tea kettle before it blows its whistle. Yet, before you could even think of filling the tea kettle with water, you felt arms wrap around your waist from behind. You gasped softly but relaxed as you felt the familiar fingers rubbing against your stomach.

"You really going to just make tea for yourself?" a voice questioned behind you.

Jun's sleepy voice always sets your heart ablaze. He sounded so relaxed, as his voice was deeper and his speech a bit slower. It also was dreamy as he often whispered sweet nothings into your ear to help you fall asleep.

And when he starts caressing your body? He had you right where he wanted you, wrapped around his finger. But if you were to ask anyone, he was wrapped around yours.

Slowly, you turned in Jun's arms. He was smiling down at you gently. His gaze alone made you weak in the knees. Jun was staring at you as if you were his whole world. You are.

"I was trying not to wake you, my love. I know how many late nights you've been pulling lately. You honestly looked too peaceful." "Funny because I lost all peace of mind when I felt you slide out of bed."

Your eyes widened as you mumbled a quick "sorry." You really thought you had gotten away this time! You looked away, your cheeks red. Jun easily caught your attention again when you felt him squeeze your hips. He offered that soft smile of his.

Words didn't need to be exchanged between the two of you. You knew he wasn't mad, but still didn't like the fact you were the cause of his loss of sleep. Yet, his gaze and hold on you told you differently. It wasn't worth an argument especially at this late hour.

"Let me get that for you, darling."

His lips pressed against the crown of your head as he slowly detached himself from you. Already, you missed his touch. He maneuvered around you, so he could go ahead and fill up the kettle for the two of you. You went to retrieve another mug.

The faucet was running but quickly shut off. It didn't take you long until you heard some rustling behind you. Jun's footsteps were light, almost untraceable. The only indicator he was even in the same room as you was the sound of the metal of the stove grate meeting the bottom of the tea kettle seemed to echo throughout the content.

Tick tick tick

Jun's hand moved the knob to start your gas stove. He smiled a bit wider to see the flame flicker and stay on underneath the tea kettle. Soon, you two would be warmed by the tea as he hoped it would help you back to slumber. The moment you moved from bet, he became aware of the world around him. There was no way that he could have rested knowing you were up.

"Do you want to sit at the kitch-" you started but quickly closed your mouth. Instead, a wide grin overtook your lips.

Your body fully turned around from the cabinets to where Jun was standing in front of you. At the moment, Jun was standing in front of you with an inviting smile. His hand extending out to you.

It was no secret Jun was a phenomenal dancer. While you loved watching him light up the stage, you also loved these more intimate moments. One of your nighttime routines happened to be dancing in each other's arms. It was a way to show affection to one another.

Without words exchanged, you slipped your hand in between his. He squeezed your hand affectionately before pulling you in closer. Gently, he pulled you in close to him, so he could rest one hand on your lower back. His other hand moved to rest on your side. This freed your hands to wrap around his neck and play with the long strands of hair.

He started the two of you in a slow sway. You pressed tiny kisses against the side of his face. You could feel him smile as well as his skin heat up from the displays of affection. It wasn't that he was embarrassed. He was still getting used to the idea of someone wanting to be that openly affectionate with him.

To show his gratitude, his hand squeezed your hip affectionately. You couldn't fight the smile into the kisses you pressed into the skin.

You slowly pulled your face away from his, so you could rest your head on his chest. It brought a wider smile on your lips to feel his body heat against your body. You couldn't help but giggle slightly as you heard how fast his heart was racing. He was so precious to you.

"Luckiest man," he whispered. His hand gently pushed you closer, eliminating any space between the two of you. There was no way he was going to let you slip away now.

Not even the sound of the kettle blowing its whistle. Keeping you close, he removed the hand from your side to turn the stove off. The water could always be reheated, no doubt. However, he was never going to let a precious moment like this pass him by.

As the whistle died down with the flame shut off, his hand found its way to rest on the back of your head. He cradled you close to him as you continued to dance in the kitchen. All the lights were off besides the overhead light on the stove.

It created an intimate setting for the two of you. Honestly though, you could be anywhere with Wen Junhui and it would feel like a fairytale.

[autisticlancemcclain]

prev

“This your place?” Keith asked, panting.

His host raised his eyebrow, pushing open the door.

“No,” he deadpanned, “this is my annoying neighbour’s house. He’s on holidays. I’m staying here and using all his things to take revenge for hours of small talk.”

“Oh,” Keith replied, impressed. “Cool.” He’ll have to do that next time Lance is on a solo mission. 

“No, I’m – I’m kidding, Paladin.”

“Oh,” Keith repeated, disappointed. “Less cool.”

“Just – get in the house.”

Keith didn’t argue. He followed his host into the small building, nodded as he was pointed to a guest room, and passed out the second his head hit the straw-stuffed pillow.

— — —

When Keith woke, it was dark outside. A scarred face was looming over his, and he bit back a scream, hand flying for his knife on reflex. 

“Peace, Paladin,” said Ares, holding up a hand. “I startled you. I did not mean to. It’s time for the feast. 

Keith slumped. His heart slowed from its jackrabbit pace. “Yeah. Yeah, man, thanks. I’ll be right out.”

His host nodded and left, closing the door behind him. Keith took one minute to calm himself, closing his eyes and counting his breaths. Once sixty seconds passed, he stood, glancing down at his armour. 

That was…fine, right?

They always wore their armour to diplomacy missions. Well, mostly because Keith threw a massive hissy fit the second Coran attempted to force him into the worst, most restrictive suit he’d ever seen. His armour was battered, unpolished, and honestly kind of rank, but it wasn’t like he had many other options. He held out his helmet, inspecting himself in the reflection of his visor.

Shiro would tell him to brush his hair.

Too bad he didn’t have a hairbrush. 

He walked out of his room, shrugging. His host was waiting for him by the small hearth in the middle of the house, standing as Keith approached. 

“Shall we make our leave?”

“Sure.”

He followed his host back out of the little house. They walk in silence. Keith’s feet begin to hurt by the five minute mark – he has no idea how long he slept, but it was not long enough, and exhaustion still pulled at his frame. 

Dryope had mentioned food, though. And something like a party, but one lucky thing about Ares – he doesn’t seem to be much of a partier, either, so hopefully Keith could ditch that bright and early and go right back to sleep. 

They walked along the same hills Keith’s host had led them down earlier, only this time they were going up, so it was worse. Thankfully, though, the walk was just barely shorter – they weren’t walking back to the beach, but to the hearth, the big fire pit Keith noticed walking in. All the houses they passed were empty, not even a light by the window.

“Is everyone at the – party, thing, whatever?” Keith panted.

Ares eyed him briefly, not pausing his stride. “Look for yourself.”

They crested the top of the hill, and Keith’s jaw dropped. 

The hearth was blazing. The flame burned so brightly and hugely that Keith was half-convinced it was out of control. Surrounding it in hundreds of chattering groups was every single Aegian, tall and wide and small, smiling and laughing. As he watched, an Aegian called something in a language Keith couldn’t understand, and immediately dozens of the tree-warriors rushed up to join hands in a big ring around the fire, twirling and dancing as the watching Aegians chanted and sang. 

Keith’s first thought was, Aren’t these guys made of wood?

His second thought was, This looks like a hippie commune. Time to ditch.

Unfortunately Ares caught him before he could go right back the way they can, spinning him around and shoving him down the hill.

“Real hospitable,” Keith grumbled.

His host seemed, as much as such a scary person could look, amused. “On you go, Paladin.”

Keith stomped on. He probably could take Ares in a fight, at least normally, but he was exhausted and injured and weak. Plus, if he was the reason behind yet another failed diplomatic mission, Lance would gleefully hold it over his head for weeks, and Shiro would be disappointed if Keith finally killed him. Plus, Allura would be upset with him, and having Allura upset with you kind of feels like taking a kitten that loves and trusts you and drop kicking it into the sun. Very quickly, you realise that you are the scum of the Earth and the worst person alive. It’s generally just something you should avoid.

As he trudged down the hill, he quickly recognised three familiar suits of armour. They were kind of hard to miss – even as scuffed as they were, they glinted in the light of the massive fire, shining like a bunch of precious stones. Pidge, sulking somewhere near a table of desserts; Hunk, chatting with his host; and Shiro, speaking with the Aegian leader like the tryhard little teacher’s pet he was. Coran stuck out, too, in his bright blue Altean uniform that was somehow pristine even though Keith watched him get flung at a wall and shocked by a bare wire from the broken control centre back on the dead castle. 

All the Aegians wore some kind of bedsheet, or their Tinkerbell clothes. Interestingly, the dryads were not the only Aegians present – there were others who looked a little more human, although they had plenty of strange features that reminded Keith they were not. A group of laughing girls looked like they were made from the bottom of a pool in the sunlight, skin shifting with dappled light. Several guys walked around with half a donkey hanging out of their drawers. Keith spotted some honest-to-God centaurs. One girl appeared to be made out of blowing, spinning wind. 

Hundreds of eyes seemed to follow Keith as he joined the crowd, glancing at him and then back at their friends, whispering to themselves. Keith shrunk into himself, letting his hair fall in front of his eyes – no one looked mad, or angry, or cruel, but no one looked exactly welcoming, either. Ares had disappeared at some point, not that he was what Keith would consider a friendly face. 

Keith needed to find someone he knew, stat. 

His first instinct was Pidge – the two of them usually slunked in some corner together whenever they were forced (often at gunpoint, thanks, Lance) to some stupid party. They had a running game called How Many People Can We Convince That Barking Is A Polite Human Greeting Before Shiro Finds Out. So far their score was 135-149, Pidge in the lead. (Keith very much intended to catch up.) But before he could make it over to where she was hiding, a group of water-girls descended upon her like a pack of piranhas, giggling and shouting something about braiding and eye makeup. Keith decided he would rather chew off his right hand than put himself anywhere near that, and did an abrupt 180 in search of Hunk.

Unfortunately, the big guy was still preoccupied. His host – Elijah (or something, Keith would be reminded of his real name eventually) – was showing him some kind of metal box that opened to a bunch of intricately placed gears and bobbles and wires. Hunk was staring at it like the Holy Grail. Not even Keith’s best pleading eyes and sad orphan story would convince him to babysit Keith and glare at anyone who attempted to socialise. Another dead end.

Keith sighed. That really only left –

“Hey, squirt!”

Keith went bright red, cringing with his whole entire body. He loved his brother, he really, truly did, but Shiro was as out of depth as he was at stuff like this and tended to overcompensate by being affectionate. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, except he had a bad case of Foot In Mouth Disease and knew Keith at his most embarrassing early teenage emo. 

So.

“Hey, Shiro,” he said stiffly, trying not to die inside as the man pressed a smacking kiss right in the centre of his forehead.

A tall, handsome guy somewhere to their left raised his eyebrows, smiling with amusement. Keith thought he could die. Sometimes, he thought his brother was secretly a forty-six year old suburban mom of three.

“We missed you!” cried his embarrassing brother. He was so genuine about it, it was hard not to smile back at him. “You took so long getting here!”

“My host’s place is at the farthest corner of the city,” Keith explained. “Had to hike here. Thought I was gonna bite it by mile six.”

Shiro snorted. “Drama queen.”

“Yeah, yeah. You try hiking after getting shaken around like a bobblehead. I bet your place is, like, twenty feet away from here.”

“Pretty much,” Shiro agreed, smile turning into more of a smirk. He attempted to dig his knuckles into Keith’s skull, but Keith was well used to his brand of crap and squirmed away at the last second. “Akeso’s sorta the main healer around here – at least I think? They’re not much of a talker – so they live in this building that’s attached to the infirmary. One of the big buildings in the inner circle.”

He pointed to one of the more rectangular buildings Keith had seen on the way in, with a much smaller, rounder building attached to it like one of those suction fish on a shark. It was hard to make out many details in the dark, fire’s light only able to stretch so far, but it looked pretty infirmary-ish.

“Hunk’s staying near the forges. He loves it, you should talk to him about it. He’s all cute and excited, you know that look he gets. Elatreus is impressed with him, practically made him an assistant.”

Elatreus! That’s the host’s name. And Keith absolutely knew what look Shiro’s talking about – the wide brown eyes, clasped hands, talking a mile a minute. He smiled softly. Nothing better for the soul like watching an ecstatic Hunk. 

“That’s good. Glad he’s happy.” 

“Yep. And Pidge is in a regular house like you, little more in-city. Next to some kind of trap shop? I don’t totally get it. Apparently Dysnomia needs a lot of supplies. Pidge was being all sketch about it.”

“That’s not super reassuring.”

“It is not!” Shiro agreed. He led Keith to one of the many tables laid out, absolutely covered in food. Keith realised he was ravenous, piling up a plate at least a foot high with meats and breads and foods he couldn’t even identify, but that smelt positively godly. At Shiro’s raised eyebrow, he rolled his eyes and selected a single vegetable. 

“Make sure you toss some in the fire,” Shiro advised.

Keith squinted at him. “I’m…not gonna do that, thanks.”

“No, no, you have to.”

He pointed to the edge of the fire, where, sure enough, some Aegians were scraping the edge of their plates into the flames.

Keith wrinkled his nose. “The hell are they burning their food for? What a waste!”

Shiro shrugged, stepping into the line. “Akeso said it’s an old tradition, something that their ancestors felt protected them and gave them good will and peace. No one really wants to mess with that mojo, so. Portion of the food is sacrificed.”

Keith would be less pressed about it if the food didn’t look and smell so good. Scraping perfectly good food into fire felt like spending hours polishing a sword only to scratch it three seconds later – effort for no reason. When it was their turn, though, Keith did as the custom dictated. He’d learned enough about questioning weird traditions. 

He held eye contact with Shiro and flicked his one vegetable into the flames. Delightfully, his brother’s eye twitched, like he was considering shoving Keith into them. Suddenly, this custom was Keith’s favourite he’d ever been forced to partake in. 

By the time they finally sat somewhere to eat, Keith was so hungry he was ready to eat his fingers along with the food. He inhaled his food for a good five or six minutes, ignoring Shiro’s attempts first at conversation, then at slowing him down. 

“Christ, kid,” he said, voice tinged with either horror or awe. Maybe both. “Eating like I never fed you in your life.”

“You haven’t,” Keith replied around a rib of some kind. “Adam fed me. You made ash of everything you touched.”

Shiro’s expression soured. He poked sullenly at some kind of leaf. (Serves him right for trying to be some kinda health freak now that he’s in charge. Keith once watched him eat an entire Costco sheet cake at three in the morning, and that had been his first and only meal of the day. Keith enjoyed bringing it up every time Shiro preached about the benefits of salad and watching him just start screeching to drown Keith out. Good times.) 

“I didn’t turn everything to ash, you ungrateful brat. I made muffins that one time!”

You microwaved an already cooked muffin, Keith thought, wisely choosing to eat some kind of rice dish instead of bringing it up. And it tasted like erasers afterr. So.

“Sure, Shiro.”

Shiro nodded, satisfied. He picked up the leaf, sprinkled with some…orange thing, maybe, Keith couldn’t tell exactly, and took a delicate bite. He looked less satisfied.

“So,” he said, setting down his plate like he was looking for an excuse not to eat it. He looked at Keith expectantly. “You must want an update on Allura.”

Keith blinked. “Oh, shoot, yeah. I didn’t see her. She good?”

“Yeah, from what we can tell. When we got to the infirmary, Akeso stitched up my knee, then we –”

“You had a knee injury?” Keith interrupted. “You should have said something!”

Shiro smiled gently. “I got it treated, dork.” He bumped their shoulders together, trying to ease Keith’s upset expression. “I’m fine, okay? If Akeso didn’t bring it up, I would have. Promise. It wasn’t too bad, anyway, I swear.”

Keith frowned harder. He had noticed Shiro shifting slightly when they were first confronted by Dryope and her army, but Shiro had walked away without limping, so he’d allowed himself to stop worrying. A stupid mistake, and one he should know better than making. He knows his stupidly self-sacrificial brother. 

“Keith, seriously,” Shiro assured. He leaned down, unlatching his thigh and knee braces, then pulled back the rip in his undersuit. Keith wasn’t comforted by the size of the rip – nor the placement of it – but the wound didn’t look too bad, and was stitched neatly. Some kind of salve was spread all over it, under the clear wound dressing. As he watched, the wound seemed to contract, shrinking ever so slightly.

“Healing magic,” Shiro explained, putting his armour back. He patted Keith’s shoulder. “Akeso is super practiced at it. They stitched me up but warned that overdoing magic healing is as bad as cheating death, so it’ll still take a couple weeks to heal fully. Just won’t hurt so bad and might heal a little faster than with just stitches.”

“That why Allura is still out?” Keith clarified, finally letting go of the tension in his shoulders. Shiro looked relieved. “No speedy magic?”

Shiro nodded. “Exactly. After Akeso stitched me up we went to go visit Rhea, check on Allura. She’s tucked in this massive bed-nest thing, snoring away. She’s fine. Just super drained and needs all the rest she can. She’s in good hands.”

Relief punches out of Keith like a physical force. It’s one thing if his friends are injured, a whole other if they’re unconscious – but with Shiro’s assurance as well as Coran’s confidence earlier, he can relax. The two of them can read people like no one else on the ship – except maybe Lance. She’ll be fine.

“Speaking of Lance,” Keith said.

“No one brought up Lance except your own brain,” Shiro responded patiently. That infernal smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth. 

Keith went red, barrelling right on. “Where is he? This stuff is right up his alley, I figured he’d be out twirling until he passes out in the punch or something.”

Shiro frowned, looking at him funny. “He is? He’s been over –”

Just then, the music that had been playing in the background changed – there was a collective inhale, then all the instruments played something at once. Keith didn’t know much about music, but the something felt intentional, deeply so. A song was beginning, rather than endless background music.

Excited murmuring moved in waves throughout the gathered Aegians. People started shifting. High above everything else, loud and excited, rang a disbelieving laugh – a very familiar laugh.

Keith whipped his head up, roll dropping from his hand and bouncing into the dirt. At the edge of the crowd, lit softly by the orange golden flames, was Lance – but it was no wonder Keith had missed him before. He wasn’t wearing his armour.

He was wearing a dress!

Well, not really a dress. One of those ancient Greek toga things, that looks like a droopy bedsheet. Keith had noticed it on several – almost all, in fact – of the Aegians; a draped, white garment, cinched in the waist, pinned at the shoulders. It hadn’t looked anything special on them. 

Lance, though, wore it like it had been made for him. Maybe it had. Most Aegians wore the toga-thing pinned at both shoulders, but Lance’s was only gathered at one, the rest of it falling artfully on his chest, looking dangerously like it was about to fall off. The cinched golden rope acting as a belt made his waist look downright tiny, like someone could pick him up around his middle and throw him, or something. It wasn’t crazy short, or anything, but Lance surely didn’t wear it down to his toes, like some others did. A pair of simple brown sandals wrapped all the way up his calves. 

There were actual freaking laurels in his hair, along with what Keith could only assume were gold threads, wrapped around a few tiny, careful braids. A golden bracelet wrapped around his bicep, contrasting with his many Earth-made bracelets and anklets, and his plastic blue Moana watch that he never took off. 

“He looks ridiculous!” Keith cried. 

Shiro tried poorly not to laugh. “I think he looks nice!”

“He looks like a freaking Roman statue!”

The music started to swell, and Lance reached out to grab an offered hand, and suddenly Keith’s blood went cold. 

“What is he doing all over Lance,” he hissed.

Shiro raised his eyebrows. “His…host?” 

“Hosting immoral thoughts, maybe!” Keith protested. Shiro choked on his drink. “Look at his damn hand! Gripping Lance’s waist like there’s a magnet involved! What’s he want, to pick Lance up like a prize and show him around, or something? What a creep!”

But Lance wasn’t scowling, or even using his polite I-hate-you-and-can’t-wait-to-talk-crap-about-you-to-my-friends smile. He was just smiling, and concentrating hard on his feet, wrapping his own hands all over Mr. Creep. As the music got more complicated, they started dancing. 

“What’s your deal with Peithos?” Shiro questioned. “What’s he –”

Keith ignored him. “And they have some kinda dance prepared? He’s supposed to be helping Lance recover, not teaching him a dance! How long have we been here for?”

Shiro finally sighed, giving up on his questioning. He watched the dancing duo, although with significantly less (zero) animosity than Keith. 

“‘Bout ten hours? Give or take.”

“Ten ho – ten hours,” Keith said, stumbling over his words. He tore his eyes away and stared at his brother, alarmed. “We’ve been here ten whole hours? I thought it was, like, three!”

Shiro nodded, taking a long sip out of his cup. “Yep. Surprised the heck outta me, too. Went for a nap after checking on Allura, and boom, sun’s down, Akeso’s waking me up, and my leg hardly hurts anymore. Exhausted sleep is sleep, man, I feel you. Pidge, Hunk, and Coran knocked out, too. Only Lance stayed up. That’s why he’s not in armour. And why he knows this dance, apparently.” He nudged Keith’s shoulder, expression suddenly much more solemn. “You know how he is with sleep.”

Keith softened. He turned back to the blue paladin with a sigh, watching the half-Aegian twirl him around. The music got faster and faster and the man grabbed Lance around the waist and lifted him, twirling them both like it was easy as pie. Lance threw his head back and laughed, cheeks flushed and nose squinted like it does when he’s really laughing. 

“Yeah, I know. Still, though. I don’t trust that guy. Too friendly. And Lance is too comfortable.”

“That’s fair.” Shiro was staring at him, too. “I don’t really trust many people here, actually. I think Rhea is trustworthy. And Elatreus. The other people, I can’t say yet. But Dryope…”

He turned to glance at the leader, who watched the festivities over the rim of an ornate glass. She sat on a carved rock, her father next to her. The rock-seat to her right was left empty. Keith could guess who it was for. 

“There’s something they’re not telling us,” Keith finished, nodding. “Agreed.”

He turned back to look at Lance and Peithos. The song had ended, but they were still standing close to the fire, bent close. Lance was gesturing like crazy, smile lighting up his face. Peithos was intently watching his every move. 

“We’ll keep an eye on them,” Shiro promised. His smile was small and reassuring. Keith glanced at the half-Aegian, then back at his brother, nodding slowly. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I think we should.”

After the weird dance, the party started to die down. People slowly started to head out, first in singles, then in couples, then in large swathes. Pidge was one of the first to make her getaway. Keith looked around for his host, but couldn’t manage to land his eyes on him. He hoped he hadn’t already left – he had no clue how to get back to his guest room in the dark, and wasn’t super pumped about sleeping on the ground if it came to that. 

“You know where the house is?” Keith overheard Peithos murmur, so close to Lance there wasn’t a place they weren’t touching. 

Lance grinned up at him. “Yep! I’ll meet you there, don’t worry about me. Go do what you need to do.”

The half-Aegian smiled gratefully at him, then rushed off.

Some host, Keith thought bitterly.

His glare was apparently pretty pungent, because now that Lance’s distraction was gone, he looked over quickly. He brightened, jogging over.

“Keith! Hey! I haven’t seen you all night.”

“Yeah, wonder why,” muttered Keith sullenly.

“I hope you –” Lance frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Keith repeated, mocking. He rolled his eyes. Unfortunately he still managed to notice the expression on Lance’s face – wounded, not mad. He faltered. 

That wasn’t how their arguments were supposed to go. “You know what it means,” he insisted, but it sounded unconfident even to his own ears.

“I really, really don’t. I looked for you earlier, I couldn’t find you when everyone else –”

“You looked?” Keith asked incredulously. “I couldn’t’ve pried your eyes away from Tall, Dark, and Handsome if I plucked them out of your head!”

Lance’s already-present flush exploded out of control, so bright Keith could see it even in the dying embers of the hearth. “I wasn’t – he’s not – you’re not – what are you talking about!” he finally managed, tripping over his words in a way he usually didn’t. “Peithos and I were just – were just – we were only dancing! He taught me the Spring Dance, earlier, when he was showing – showing – me the wildflower fields, and –”

Keith narrowed his eyes. He realised for the first time that Lance was swaying, slightly, and even as he talked himself out of his embarrassment, the red didn’t totally fade from his face, staying high on his cheeks. 

“– I don’t know what your problem is, I swear, every time I have fun you live to ruin it. Gods, can’t I even have – have – have one thing, I just –”

He kept tripping over his words, like his tongue wasn’t working with him. Keith frowned harder.

“Lance, are you – drunk?”

“What? No!”

That Lance said clearly. He whirled on Keith with a new layer of clarity in his eyes, dark like pits and absolutely flashing in fury. 

“You think,” he seethed, stepping forward, “that I am so freaking irresponsible, so absolutely stupid and idiotic, that I would get intoxi – intoxish – intoxicat –”

He couldn’t even say the words. Keith stared at him in alarm, because he raised a good point – Lance liked to pretend, but he really wasn’t irresponsible like that. Keith had never heard him swear. He went to bed at the same time every night. As far as he knew, he’d never actually touched a drop of alcohol in his life – it would be out of character for him to get wasted at a diplomatic mission, late at night, when they were separated and wary. 

Something was not right.

“Lance, I think you should maybe –”

“Gods, you ruin – you ruin everything.” Lance blinked, hard, then glared at Keith, shoving off the steadying hand Keith had placed on his elbow and stumbling backwards. He held his gaze for several moments, absolutely glowering, and then – to Keith’s great horror – his brown eyes watered. Tears built up faster than he could wipe them away, tracing a line down his cheek. Keith staggered backwards.

“I hate you sometimes,” he said, and ran off. 

Keith watched him go, aftertaste of the delicious food turning sour in his mouth.

— — —

all art by @jiveyuncle!!

next

[ceebit]

i just know than jeonghan would tease his s/o a lot, but whenever they went “hannie :(“ he would literally MELT like he’d just be like “okay sweetheart i’m sorry 🥺” and the members would be like ????? BC HE WON’T LET THEM LIVE but it’s his baby so <3

i don’t think i’ve ever written for hannie outside headcanons so thank u for the prompt!! forever in love with the weak for ur partner trope. warms my heart fr.

“speaking of slip-ups, remember when we went ice skating for our two year anniversary?”

the arm slung around your shoulders toys with the necklace he’d gifted you ages ago as he speaks, turning to offer you a sweet smile despite the teasing lilt to his voice. your eyes narrow when they meet his, and his grin only brightens.

of course you remember. you’d nursed the sore spots on your sides for hours, groaning with dramatic despair on your couch and flinging couch cushions at your beloved’s head each time you suspected he was laughing at you.

even now, a little bit of the mirth dances in his eyes and it’s all you can do not to roll you eyes.

“what? what happened?”

you’re brought back to the present to the sound of chan’s voice, curious eyes looking back and forth between the two of you.

“yn looks like they wanna skin you alive,” seungcheol adds, “and while i support the notion of payback for serious wrongdoings, i kind of don’t wanna lose my best friend.”

you do roll your eyes and jeonghan’s smile brightens tenfold.

“we went ice skating for our anniversary,” you start begrudgingly, and the two nod to egg you on. “and it’s no surprise to anyone that i have shit balance, right?”

cheol winces and you nod solemnly. in your defense, really, it wasn’t just on ice with metal on the soles of your shoes. things just had a funny way of appearing directly in your path at the worst times, and thus, you were subject to much teasing from your other half as he rubbed the aching spots and soothed them with kisses.

“so when you put ice and my terrible balance together, you get…”

“i really don’t get how you kept falling even when i was holding your hands,” jeonghan muses, squeezing your shoulder gently. you frown, embarrassed, and look down at your hands placed in your lap. “you’re always gonna need my help, aren’t you?”

“yeah, isn’t that… besides the point?” chan hides a smile behind his drink before letting out a strangled sound at the jab cheol delivers to his side. “what?? i’m just saying…”

“it’s cute, really.” his smile has softened, and you know the look in his eye is fond, but you still can’t help but pout. quietly—and honestly, you hadn’t meant for him to hear you—you mumble his name and rest your hand on his shoulder.

“hannie…”

and just like that, the switch is flipped.

your companions watch in equals parts awe and surprise as jeonghan immediately cups your face in his hands and offers up quiet apologies, brow furrowed as he searches your expression for serious discomfort. it’s a far stretch from the sly grins he gives them and the rest when they openly complain about his relentless teasing, so watching you preen under his attention has them more or less bristling on the sidelines.

cheol clears his throat and you’re the only one who acknowledges him. “i thought this was supposed to be inclusive,” he mumbles, and you raised a brow in amusement.

“you want a kiss, too?” at that, jeonghan snaps back into the conversation, hands still gently cupping your face, and give his best friend the most scathing glare he could muster. the message he sent was more than clear from a mile away—his kisses were for you and you only. no excuses.

“now look who wants to skin who alive,” chan mutters, and releases an undignified squawk when cheol jabs at his side again.

[saintmurd0ck]

i've got you, darlin'

masterlist

pairing: frank castle x afab!reader

summary: frank makes getting your period a little easier to bear

warnings: mentions of heavy periods (cramps, pain, body aches, but no bleeding), fluff and frank looking after you, protective frank!!!

a/n: for my sweet @chellestrash 💗 who deserves the world (and frank castle)

He knows, even before your eyes flutter closed and your grip tightens on the sheets. He knows, just from the way his name comes out in a hoarse whisper, more of a plea than a prayer.

Frank kneels onto the ground, his voice a gentle cadence in your ear. "That time again, huh?"

You swallow harshly, unable to stop the pained grimace distorting your face, at a loss of how else to say yes. It seems like a simple answer, a candid one, but it's a response you've come to loathe. 

Because every month, not unlike clockwork, it's an age-old reply to the same question.

Your body starts to seize, despite the breathing exercises running rampant through your head — in through the nose for three, hold for four, out through the mouth for five — and the heavy blankets doing absolutely nothing to warm your frigid skin. 

Ice and searing fire glitter in your veins, a complicated dance with no ending, not bothering to tiptoe around the white-hot knife twisting into your stomach. 

"M'right here, sweetheart," Frank murmurs, at the ready, dropping Advil into your gnarled, outstretched hand, before lifting a glass of water to your lips. 

He helps you upright, making sure the pills go down, watching your reaction to see if you need anything more. 

Your eyes dart to the kitchen, a silent communicator of the one other thing that's missing, but Frank shakes his head, placing the heat pack across your abdomen in near-perfect synchronisation. "Already got it."

A meek "Thanks, Frankie" is all you manage amongst the bouts of blinding discomfort, more of a rasp than intended. Curling up into a ball, you bury your face into the pillows, doing your best to ground yourself, to let his scent settle over you in a wave of calm. 

The mattress dips as Frank sits down next to you, dragging a soothing hand across your back, alternating his touch between long, languid strokes and featherlight circles. 

"Honestly sweetheart," he muses, the hint of a smile flitting across his face, "you'd make a great Marine."

You blink at him, disconcerted.  

He gestures towards you, chuckling. "I tell 'ya, the guys thought they were tough shit, but one week of this and they woulda been beggin' for mercy. You put 'em to shame."

You roll your eyes, mustering a weak smile. "Well it's not like I have a choice, do I?"

"Yeah? And? Ain’t makin’ me any less proud."

The next cramp snowballs into you before you have a chance to respond, impending fatigue crawling up your spine in lashes. 

And then his hands are on you, his body sheltering yours, encasing you with every ounce of protective warmth he can muster. He holds you closely, nestling your head in the crook of his neck, letting his arms fall into place. 

He presses a kiss to your forehead, into your hair. “I’ve got you, darlin’. I’ve got you.” 

Sharpness turns to a throbbing, dull ache, though it reverberates in your bones, turning your muscles to jelly. 

Still, you grasp at him, clutching him tighter, as if he’s the one thing in the world that could actually get you through this. 

You suppress a bout of muted laughter. You’re always going to be the one getting yourself through this, no matter what, but…

At least Frank makes it more bearable. 

“It’s going to be a long week,” you sigh, your words muffled against his chest. 

And it’s true. You’re going to be here for a while. 

But he’s got you. 

And it’s gonna be okay. 

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen let their s/o win a game

requested by anon: omg i loved the scenario of letting svt win at a game!!! it made my day - and your blog overall gives off warm and cozy vibes :)! if you don’t mind, what would be the ways you think svt would let their s/o win at a game/succeed at something they (y/n) are normally not good at?

notes: counterpart to this post

masterlist

seungcheol

he's not letting you win under any circumstances. you've been losing to him less terribly these days, anyway, and during the last air hockey match you played he only won by five points. he's 100% certain that you will eventually be able to win against him, and he wants that to happen on its own, because of your own merit, rather than because he went easy on you and let you have a victory. 

jeonghan

so, so weak for you. literally he could be a master at that game but when you tell him you've never won before, he's immediately toning down his play and letting you win. honestly he never really gets competitive against you because he gets the most joy out of seeing you happy after a victory

joshua

do aegyo for him and then he promises that he will let you win. no no no, you can't say no, you have to do the aegyo and then he'll consider what to do. makes you do three cute poses, one song, one dance, before eventually laughing and kissing your head and saying yeah okay he'll let you win rock paper scissors for doing the dishes

junhui

you wanna win??? ofc!! you gotta still work for it tho, he's not gonna let you win immediately. ends up playing with you for ages, partly because he really does enjoy playing games and partly because he likes seeing you whine when you struggle. still lets you win in the end tho, asks if you're up for a rematch and pouts when you say no

hoshi

teases you endlessly about how terrible you are at playing this one card game against him. he's teasing you so much that you don't even realise you're winning until the game is over and he's grinning cheekily and wiggling his eyebrows before he laughs as you throw yourself into his arm in thanks because this is the first time ever that you've managed to win against him

wonwoo

goes "oh no, i lost" in a completely flat voice as he smiles at you. made an effort to not make it ridiculously easy while you're playing, but at the last moment he backed down a little to let you take the victory, and honestly even though he might have been able to make a new record if he didn't back down, seeing you whoop and kiss his cheek happily makes him the happiest

woozi

no, you're not winning against him. he's good at ball games like this, okay, and if you wanna be good too then you gotta play properly, baby. coaches you through it while you play, and even though you don't manage to win you still manage to play better than before, and he grins and asks if you wanna play again

minghao

thinks that you're honestly rather adorable when you pout and sulk over having lost to him in a game but, one day, he decides to take pity on you and lets you win instead, and the radiant smile that lights up your face has him wondering why he didn't let you have an easy win way, way sooner

mingyu

i dunno, i think that if you're bad at this game then he's probably bad at it too, so there's always a 50/50 chance that either of you win. even if he intentionally goes easy on you, it's not gonna help that much bc you're both so terrible at playing that the game still ends up going on for another hour before someone emerges the winner

dokyeom

is terrible at feigning innocence, makes it incredibly obvious that he's letting you win. still stubbornly keeps up the act, even when you tell him that you know what he's doing. acts the most surprised when you win, making you laugh because he's just so insistent that you won entirely by yourself

seungkwan

you're gonna have to beg this man to let you win because he's not doing it himself. what can he say, he has a competitive streak, but if you ask him enough times then his resolve will eventually crumble. didn't make the rest of the game easy for you tho, because an easy victory is the same as a loss in his books

vernon

this man is always letting you win against him, no matter what game you're playing. he'll put in the effort, definitely, but especially when it comes to games that you're not particularly good at, then he's coaching you during the game play or making moves that put him at a disadvantage because he really adores seeing you happy when you win

chan

tells you he's gonna go so hard on you and make it impossible for you to win, and then he ends up doing the exact opposite. his grin gradually gets wider as you gain the upper hand, and by the end of the game he looks even happier than you by the fact that you've managed to beat him

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reactions tags: @jeonginssa @magicaltonaru @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @turningcarat @zarara @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @iheartyujin @summery-bat @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @ejspencer14 @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @saythename-chess @yonabutnotyuna @youthoughtiwasfeelingyou @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @sunshinekyeom-sang @ocyeanicc @zozojella @thesmellofcoffeeandrain @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @nananacomeonnnn @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @hansolaria @gam3bo1z @marisblogg @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt

[binniebakery]

Closer

College AU!Taehyun x Gn!Reader (Strangers to ..) Suggestive! ♡ Summary: As a college student it was practically normal to go drink at parties if you were social enough. So when you kiss an attractive guy that you’ve never seen before, and he returns the favor, is that normal too? ♡ Warnings: Smoking, drinking, slight cursing. MDNI please! (also I’m not familiar with smoking so if I use terms wrong or misrepresent it I apologize!) not proofread because I'm lazy lol ♡ A/N: Totally wasn’t listening to ‘one of the girls’ while writing this !! don't ask me why I’ve been writing so much suggestive content lately I just don’t touch grass... mb guys 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️(I'm honestly on a roll rn) anywho enjoy this short thing!

Maybe you had too much to drink. Maybe. Hell, you could’ve even been cross-faded with the amount of joints being tossed around you, who knows? Your vision felt slightly hazy as a small smile sat on your lips, watching the blurbs of people dancing around to the music blasting in the tightly packed living room you were in. The frat parties at your uni were always a sight to see. You leaned against the wall of an empty corner, using said wall as leverage as your legs were feeling a little too much like jelly. Yeah, you were definitely crossed. Normally you were glued to your friend’s side but it seems tonight she’d run off with a random guy once again. You rolled your eyes at the thought. After a few minutes of deciding whether to call up your friend or a taxi to get back to your dorm, you find yourself staring at a male standing across the room. One hand holding a red solo cup, the other in his pocket as he swayed to the beat of the music. Although you were pretty familiar with everyone that went to these parties every weekend you’ve never seen that specific pair of large brown eyes before. You squinted your eyes in a weak attempt to get a better look but your vision was just too blurry, you were way too far gone. Normally you’d admire from afar but the mixed vodka in your system was encouraging you to go over to him. You bit your lip as you weighed your options, your eyes focusing a little too unnecessarily hard on the cup in your hand and swishing the alcohol inside around. Fuck it it’s not like you’ll ever see him again he probably doesn’t even go to your school. You pick yourself off the wall and slowly stride over to the brown-haired figure. You weren’t too sure how you were going to talk to him but the closer you got the more you found yourself wanting to just pull him in. He was possibly the most attractive guy you've ever seen. You take another sip of your drink, almost spilling it on yourself when someone suddenly bumps into you. “Oh shit!-- My bad I didn't see you there!” a random boy with a backward hat cackles as he pats your shoulder, passing through without a second thought. You simply smile awkwardly and nod as you watch him stride to the person you were just about to approach. You stood a few feet away, not wanting to interrupt their conversation and hoping this guy would leave so you could possibly make your move. He hands his friend the rolled-up blunt that was in his hand. “Here you go Taehyun. I’m heading out now– you comin’ or nah?” He tilts his head, a cheeky grin spread across his face.  Ah, so the guy you were trying to approach was named Taehyun. “Nah I’m gonna stay a little longer, I’ll see you later though man.” Taehyun fist-bumps the other male. You internally sigh in relief as you watch him walk away, your eyes looking back to Taehyun as he takes a long drag. You feel yourself shudder in anticipation. “Hey there.”

You freeze and realize Taehyun has caught you staring. Well, now you definitely have to talk to him.

“Hey.” Hey? Hey? Was that really all you could say? “Find something you like?” Taehyun cocks an eyebrow, eyes scanning the way your outfit shows just enough to leave the right amount to his imagination. You weren’t sure if your body was heating up from his intense gaze or the amount of alcohol that was in your system. “Is there an issue with that?” You sweetly respond. You were really throwing your cards onto the table, weren’t you? “Someone’s bold.” Taehyun chuckles as he takes a step closer to you. Eyelids heavy as he keeps sharp eye contact. Had you not been so far gone you would have crumbled under his gaze. “What's your name?” Taehyun leans in, talking loudly over the music. It was his attempt to hear you better but it was all it took for you to look up at him with a face fully flushed. He smirked at the sight knowing it wasn’t just the alcohol doing this to you. “Y/n, I see you smoke.” You aim your head towards the blunt in his hand and Taehyun swirls it between his fingers in front of his lips. “Taehyun, and yeah, you smoke?” You shook your head, you’ve had a few drags before but drinking was more your thing so you were pretty inexperienced. “Wanna try it?” He says as he slowly lifts the blunt to your lips. You shrug and before you can lean in he pulls it away and puts it right to his mouth. Taehyun inhales and blows the smoke in your face and chuckles. You pout at the sudden teasing. You really just want to wipe that cocky attitude right off his face. So you lean in and kiss him. Taehyun stands still in shock, hands hovering above your waist unsure of what to do. You pull away with a confident smile and the look on your face ignites something inside him. He stares at you tongue in cheek, oh you were bold. Taehyun suddenly grabs you by the waist and pulls you in with one swift move. You gasp and his lips are crashing back onto yours. He bites your lip harshly and you groan, the second your lips part open his tongue is exploring inside. You tasted like sweet alcohol and his breath was warm, absolutely reeking of weed. All you could do was let Taehyun ravage your lips as the buzz took over. Your body felt like it was in flames from the way his hands roamed your waist, with your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him impossibly closer. Closer. You wanted more than anything to just feel closer to him. You tug at his hair and Taehyun groans. “Gonna make me do something I might regret if you keep doin’ that” he mumbles against your lips and you take it as a challenge. You pull away and Taehyun looks absolutely fucked. Pupils deep and dilated as he stares at you with full intensity. Those eyes were so captivating and your breath hitches at how attractive he looks right now. “More..” You whispered, but the music blasting around drowned out your hoarse voice. Taehyun is able to read your lips regardless and the second he’s able to hand his blunt to the nearest person he’s grabbing you by the wrist to whisk you away. Both your cups left long forgotten as soon as you place them on the ground. Both of you soon find yourselves making out in the hallway as you weren’t even able to fully go up the stairs without your hands exploring Taehyun like he was artwork. It was driving him to the brink of insanity. Both your senses were heightened to the point that any slight touch caused either of you to shiver. The way Taehyun kissed you had your head in the clouds, he was far from gentle, nipping at your lips and harsh hands gripping your body. All you could do was let him. His mouth finds itself on your neck and you sigh softly as the both of you fumble into the nearest bedroom.

Taehyun pushes you against the door as soon as it closes behind you to cover your delicate skin in pretty purple markings. It was all becoming a blur, his heavy hands taking off your clothes, your tongue moving against his, the booming music fading the longer you were with him, skin and skin grazing, the room heating up further with the smell of weed and sweat. All you knew was that in the end, you and Taehyun were going to get a lot closer than you had intended.

[morbific-or-felicific]

-ADRONITIS Featuring Childe

Meaning: Frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone—spending the first few weeks chatting in their psychological entryway, with each subsequent conversation like entering a different anteroom, each a little closer to the center of the house

Word Count: 2.3k~

Description: Childe is helping you train and decides to show off his foul legacy form only to decide to fuck you

Edited By: @pretty-princess-peach

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You were exhausted. You had been hiking to the top of what was probably a mountain, and somehow, you had the eleventh most powerful member of the Fatui walking alongside you. You still weren’t sure how you had been afforded the opportunity to speak with Childe, but my god were you glad you got to. For the past month or so, you had been spending the majority of your free time training with Childe.

Frankly, you had no idea how you had managed to swing that, but you were damn grateful that you had. It was all thanks to a seemingly innocuous comment you had made about hoping to one day be as strong as him the first time you two had spoken. You honestly still weren’t sure why he had decided to speak to you of all people. There would be no reason for him to have noticed you…right?

But unbeknownst to you, Childe had been watching you for quite some time before he had even decided to speak to you. You had caught his eye with your ability to best practically any recruit that you sparred against and the fact that any missions you were a part of were always successful. He was initially just fascinated by how someone who looked as weak as you did was able to beat all of the tall, muscly boys and girls of the Fatui. However, over time, he found himself getting excited to catch glimpses of you, whether you were sparring or not, so when he finally decided he wanted to speak to you and you mentioned wanting to become as strong as him, he jumped at the chance to offer you his penis guidance.

“Are we almost there?”

At the moment, Childe had decided to help you with your endurance training and took you to what he called a “small hill”, but realistically, it felt like a mountain.

Childe gave you a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, comrade. We’re almost at the top.”

You felt a little wave of relief flow through you.

Your hike continued with the two of you in comfortable silence until, finally, you reached the top of the ‘hill’. You flopped down onto the grass. You could see why he called it a hill, but by the sheer size of it, you thought that it could be considered a mountain. Childe stood by you as you caught your breath and recovered.

“Alright, are you ready to spar?”

Your stomach dropped. He wanted to spar? With you? You were going to die.

Childe chuckled at the apparent fear on your face.

“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun.”

You considered it for a moment. It would be interesting to fight him. It would probably help you improve too. You could also see how well you could stand up to his skill.

“…Okay.”

Childe grinned before offering you his hand and pulling you up. Childe pulled two practice swords out of god knows where and handed you one. You both got into a fighting stance.

“Are you ready?”

“I guess.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on you.”

He winked at you, and you lunged forward at him. He easily parried your attack, and you two began your dance.

You were surprised that you were actually managing to hold your own a good ways into the fight, and you thought you might last a while longer, until Childe decided to take it up a notch and start using his delusion. Fuck.

You had a vision yourself, so it wasn’t like the fight was imbalanced in that way, but adding a delusion? That was just unfair.

The fight continued, and while you had taken a few hits, you were still going. Childe was thoroughly enjoying himself, and while he was holding back his true strength, he was still curious to see how you would react if he unleashed his full power on you. He wanted to see you try and fight against his overwhelming power, when realistically, there was no way you could put up any meaningful fight. He also kind of just wanted to show off for you, but that’s not important.

“Why don’t I show you what I’m truly capable of, comrade!”

You were somehow convinced that you might actually have a chance of beating the harbinger before he had said that. Then, all of a sudden, he started rising from the ground in a spiral of water, and in a flash, he was covered in new armour, and he had grown much, much taller. You had heard rumours of this transformation before. It was called “foul legacy”, was it not? You had heard that it made him grow all the way to 9’6, and you would be lying if you said you hadn’t heard girls speculating on uh, what else grew.

Of course, facing him like this now, the most prominent thoughts in your head were “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck I’m so fucking dead.”

Childe let off a few attacks, and you were dodging them the best you could. Of course, you were too terrified to realize that he was purposefully attacking in predictable ways and leaving himself open for attacks, should you develop the bravery.

He loved this. The rush of fighting and the gratification of fighting someone that he knew he could crush in an instant. That isn’t to say you weren’t strong, of course, you had exceeded Childe’s expectations, but he was just so much stronger. He was starting to get a little worked up, watching the way your body was moving. All of the adrenaline and endorphins rushing through his body were making you look even better than usual. Besides, you definitely didn’t look bad in the little shorts and t-shirt you had worn for the hike.

Finally, after ten or so minutes of dodging various attacks of his, you decided to strike back at him. You swung your sword at his chest, but before it could meet its mark, your blade stopped mid air. You looked for what had stopped your swing, and you saw Childe’s massive, armoured, clawed hand holding your sword. Within the same moment, you felt him yank on your sword, causing you to slam into his body, your head barely reaching his stomach. He reached an arm down around your shoulders to keep you there. Childe felt his breath grow heavier as he pressed you against himself.

“You’ve fought admirably. I’ve enjoyed this fight. Why don’t I repay you?”

You hadn’t realized how his voice had changed, and it was making you feel a certain way… no, no you need to focus. You struggled fruitlessly in his grip.

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is that I want to make you feel good, comrade.”

There’s no way he meant…no, not right now. It wasn’t possible.

“Come now, I’ll do all the work. Just let me fuck you.”

You turned bright red. Well, bright redder.

“Uh, I mean if you wanted to maybe do something tonight, we could uh… maybe do something, if you actually want to…”

“Not later. Now.”

“But…”

“Do you not want to?”

“No, I do…I definitely do… I just… it won’t work unless you change back first, right?”

“I’ll make it work.”

You could hear the smile in his voice. He loosened his grip on your shoulders, but before he could do anything else, you shot backwards instinctively. Childe immediately got back into a fighting stance. Well, it didn’t look like the fight was over yet. He attacked, and this time, you barely made it out unscathed. Now that he knew you wanted him as much as he wanted you, Childe was determined to get you in his arms and on his cock.

After another attack from Childe and a few failed parries, you somehow managed to trip over your own feet and fall backwards, hitting the ground hard and knocking the wind out of yourself. Childe chucked at your misstep and took the opportunity to pick you up, pull off your shorts and underwear and hold you up against his chest with one of his arms, making you wrap your legs around him. Childe pulled off one of his gloves before tossing it to the ground and pushing two of his big fingers into your mouth. You were already so worked up just from how much bigger than you Childe was, and feeling his big fingers in your mouth only added to that. He pushed his fingers in and out of your mouth until he decided he was ready to reach down and push them inside of you. His fingers felt so big. You were terrified of how big his cock was going to be. He kept fucking you, eventually adding another two fingers, doing his best to prep you. Finally, when he thought you were ready enough, he undid his belt, letting it drop to the grass before undoing his pants and pulling out his cock. You could feel his cock hit against your back, and a wave of fear flowed through you, but you were far too committed to whatever was going to happen next to back out now.You blushed, looking up at him, and then you realized that he still had his mask on. Wanting to see his face, you reached up to try to move it. Your attempt was fruitless. Childe laughed before pulling off his mask for you.

He lifted you up, hands firmly on your waist, and that’s when you saw his cock. Your eyes popped out of your head. It looked like it was almost as big as your arm. There was no way that was going to fit in you. Childe lined himself up with you so he could start bringing you down onto his monstrous cock. Childe pulling you down mixed with simple gravity let him push into you without much resistance from you writhing around. You yelped at the pain. It felt like he was going to rip you in two if he went in any farther, but of course, that didn’t stop him. Childe was slowly pushing inside of you as you whined about how it was too big and how you couldn’t take it, tears streaming down your face. But Childe just shushed you and stroked his thumb along your hip, telling you that you can handle it.

Eventually, you were as full as you could get, despite Childe attempting to fit more of himself inside of you. After all, you only had more than half of him buried in you.

As much as it hurt to have something so big inside of you, you had never felt so full in your life. It just felt so good.

Childe waited until you had adjusted the best you could to the size of his cock before he started bouncing you on it, doing his best to not push too far with each thrust. Your mind was blank. The only thing you could think about was how fucking good it felt to have this massive man fucking you like you were a toy.

You could hear Childe moaning at how good you felt around him, and it was music to your ears. His voice was so deep now that it gave you butterflies whenever he spoke.

“How does it feel, comrade? Do you feel good? Am I making you feel good?”

You couldn’t formulate a response. You just let out a moan and a little squeak when he brought you down too hard.

“Have you gone dumb on my cock already? That’s too bad. I thought you would be able to endure it better, but I suppose this is really what you’re good at hmm? Being a toy for me?”

You weren’t paying any attention to whatever he was saying because you were so close to cumming around Childe’s massive cock. Fuck, it just feels so good.

With a little shout, you came and were seeing stars. Feeling you spasm around his cock was all Childe needed to cum along with you. He filled you up with his cum, and it was dripping out of you, even with his cock still inside of you. You were out of breath and were waiting for Childe to lift you off of his cock when you realized something. Was he still hard? You looked up at him, eyes wide.

“I’m not done yet. I have to see how much I can really fill you up.”

And with that, he was fucking you again, just as hard and just as fast. He was gripping your sides so tightly that you were convinced that his still-gloved hand had managed to draw blood, but you didn’t care enough to stop him and make him take it off.

Before too long, you were cumming around him once again. Your vision flashed white, and everything blurred together for a moment as the euphoria rushed through your body. Childe smiled as he kept bouncing you on his cock, not giving you a moment to rest.

It went on like that for almost another hour. You were barely conscious when Childe finally lifted you off of his cock and set you down on the grass. He transformed back to normal before watching for a moment as his cum flowed out of you onto the grass. He knelt next to you and pressed on your lower stomach, making even more cum run out of you. After a minute or two, he wiped the cum and little bit of blood off of you and slipped your shorts back onto your limp body. He lifted you up in his arms and gave you a little kiss on your lips before starting the hike back to his home at the Fatui compound.

As far as he was concerned, now you were his, and he was going to treat you as well as he possibly could.

Tag List: @lilia-sspouse @but-a-peach @stannazuna @yourlocal-bunny @lordbugs @randomlycockroach @licensedsimp @leena-shi @cesimaaa @welpthisisfine @dainself-when-playable @fic-rebloga @bubblyxdolly @wanderin-stories @iwysbellez

morbific-or-felicific.

[rosezza]

Give up on me

—R

— i love you till my breathing stops.

Warnings: soft!rafe, crying, strong language, no happy ending. I honestly love dark Rafe much more but

"What the fuck! Is wrong! With you?!" You yelled as cold tears streamed down your makeup smeared face. Sobs coming from you as you stared at Rafe.

The secret that yours and Rafes relationship was only a bet had came out to you. Over a year of dating had all been a lie. And it hurt you. All those mornings he had you wrapped close to him as he kissed you all over your face was a lie. All the times he had said he loved you was a lie. All the things you and Rafe every shared was a lie. And it cut you deep. Your throat tightened as you watched Rafe with blurry eyes. Your heart ached and your stomach was twisting. You loved him, you really did. And it hurt to know that he never loved you back. Your mind going through all the small things you and Rafe had experienced only hurt even more.

"Y/n please-.. Listen to me i didnt- i-" Rafe tried as he locked eyes with you. His heart shattered as he saw your tears. Especially since he was the one that caused them to fall down your pretty face. He had promised to make sure whoever made you cry never placed a hand on you ever again. And now he was the one making you cry.

"No!- no! Dont even fucking talk to me Rafe!.." you cried as you began sobbing even more. His soft voice reminded you of the sweet things he said to you. And it hurt you even more.

Rafe stood there as his anexiety creeped up. He was scared to say something wrong and he didnt want to lose you. He never wanted to. It was all a bet yes. But he had fallen inlove with you. And it was something he couldnt let go of, he thought he was unlovable. No girl had ever showed him as much love as you did. You had understood him in different ways then his past relationships ever had. He had actually managed to think of a future with you. And it destroyed him to think that all if that could possibly end now. You were the first girl he actually cared about and respected.

He was always the tough guy, always the one who was in control. But to you he was different. Only to you. And he had grown attached to you.

But you didnt know that.

You were stuck thinking he never cared about you. And it wouldnt even be a surprise considering you got with Rafe Cameron. Everyone had warned you about him but you gave him a chance.

And you actually thought he was the right one. The way he held you, the way he kissed you, the way he tied your shoes even if you were out in public, the way he took care of you, the way you danced to stupid little tunes whenever you felt like it, the way he bought you flowers, The way he loved you

Your anger just turned into complete sadness as you realised that this was it. This was the end "I should have listened when people told me.." you cried. Your voice high pitched because of the way your throat was tightened.

"I spoke to my mother about you Rafe, i told everyone that i found the right one. I was so fucking stupid werent i? Because all you are after is a slut." You cried as you pointed a finger at Rafe. Which hit a soft spot in him. His eyes began tearing up as he watched this whole situation unfold right infront of him. The person he loved and truly wanted in his life was sad because of him.

"Y/n I love you.." Rafes voice was weak and he took a step closer to you. The tears in his eyes made you feel slightly bad but you couldnt give in to him again. Not now. Not anymore.

"Stop saying that when you dont!-" you cried out again. You had a lump in your throat and you felt lightheaded. You hated this and you just wanted to go away.

"I give up on you"

Your words hit him like a thousand bricks at once as you snatched up your bag from the counter. Rafe was speechless as you began to walk towards the door. "No-.. no, no no. Y/n!-" Rafe called out with desperation and guilt in his voice, finally acting. He didnt want this to end. He never did. A tear ran down his cheek as he caught up to you before you could leave. He took a hold on your arm but you quickly pulled away and turned to him. Looking in his eyes. Both of your eyes red because of the tears that were both plastered on your faces.

"Never fucking touch me again." You sneered at him and his eyebrows frowned. He didnt want this. He wanted you in his arms again, but the chances if that completely faded as you began walking away from his house. Leaving him heartbroken at the doorframe. Guilt washed over him. Regretting that he ever agreed on that bet. Thinking about how different things would have been if you didnt find out you were a bet.

You heard his cries as you walked. A part of you wanted to turn around and run to him, hug him and tell him its going to be alright. Because a part of you still loved him. You could never stop loving him because you once showed the love you had for him. But all of that was gone. Your future with him was over. Your heart ached. It wanted to re-connect with his. But it hurt you to know this wasnt real.

You had given up on him. Forever.

Taglist: @necroflame 💗💗

[scyllas-revenge]

Just read your “leap of faith” fic for Legolas and I have say I absolutely adore your writing style! Would it be possible for you to do a drabble or some rough ideas on what he would act like in the morning after waking up?

Thank you so much!! Honestly, that wasn't a fic I really planned to write more of, but your ask got my extremely rusty brain back to writing, so thank you! I'm not sure I succeeded at the style I was going for here, but it was fun to give it a try. I hope you like it!

(and @heilith I remember you requested to be tagged in my next Legolas content, so here you go!)

Leap of Faith, Part 2

aka even more Only One Bed shenanigans

Legolas/reader (gender-neutral)

Word count: 1100

Rating: G

Read part 1 here!

Legolas wakes to the sound of his name, but does not hurry to open his eyes. Your voice is a thing of beauty, as it always is, and he sighs a soft smile at the sound, willing the outside world away.

Soon his name is on your lips again, a bit more insistently this time. He shakes his head faintly. Not yet. Mortal sleep is a new experience for him, and he would indulge in it a few moments more. 

Now your hand presses against his shoulder. Regretfully, Legolas allows himself to be jostled into real wakefulness at last, where he finds you lying beside him, soft morning light streaming in through the inn’s faded curtains.

Your body is still curled toward him under the blankets. 

Concern pinches at your brow as you study him. You have never seen him sleep with his eyes closed—is he unwell? But then, perhaps elves never feel unwell. The wry laugh in your words does not fully disguise the sudden pain behind your eyes—perhaps you are reminded, as he so often is, of the immeasurable gulf between you, mortal and immortal, human and elf.

But you were never one to dwell overmuch on such heavy matters—you rest a hand against his forehead, half-teasing, as though to check for fever. Burning up, you inform him, your solemn pronouncement betrayed by the grin playing on your lips. Alas, he is quite unwell indeed! You fear his days are numbered. He had best get his affairs in order.

Legolas does not return your laugh. He will feel unwell in truth, he knows, the moment he must rise from this bed and carry on his journey with you, pretending he did not hear you whisper his name in your sleep, pretending he did not succumb to mortal dreams by your side. But he must give you an answer, and such a confession will not do. 

He was curious, he admits at last. It is no lie—not even a half-truth, for he is burning with curiosity, has burned ever since he met you. It is a weak answer, but it seems to satisfy you, and you smile at him more earnestly. 

Your hand still rests on his forehead, as though you’d quite forgotten to remove it. 

Have you shifted nearer to him? He does not think so. Yet the distance between you now seems unbearably small, intimate, your legs half-entwined under the blankets, his hair touching yours on your pillow. Nearly a lover’s embrace.

It is improper, Legolas thinks to himself, the instinct to scramble back rising in his throat. His curiosity has always warred with nervousness around you, the desire to at once surge forward and retreat often keeping him at a standstill entirely. But you speak again, and his eyes are drawn to the movement of your lips, so hypnotizing that you are forced to repeat yourself twice before he understands. 

Has his curiosity been satisfied, then? Now that he has had a taste of mortal sleep? Your eyes crinkle with laughter, the sound dancing soft and intimate between you. Mortal sleep is quite dull, after all, and you fear he must be disappointed. You shake your head ruefully, your hand leaving his forehead only to brush, agonizingly, against his cheek as you draw away—

“No.” Legolas's hand grasps your retreating wrist before you are aware of it.

His voice is still soft, the half-hushed restraint of early morning that you, like all mortals, seem to favor, but you cannot fail to sense the change in it, a flame igniting the word, low and rasping and hungry.

You lay frozen for a moment, your lungs scarcely drawing breath. But an answering flame sparks behind your eyes, and you raise your brow at him. “No...you are not disappointed? Or no, you are not satisfied?”

Softly you return your hand to Legolas’s face, your fingers trailing tentatively over his cheekbone, his jaw, the shell of his ear, shaped so unlike your own. His heart soars at your touch, and he laughs softly for sheer joy. “How could you disappoint me?" His hand falls to your waist, drawing you nearer. "In the waking world and in sleep, there is delight to me in all you do.”

“I am glad.” Heat blooms on your cheeks, but your fingers continue to play over his face, his neck, his hair, and your smile now is a thing of fire. You lean in closer than ever, and he wishes it might burn him. “And how could I satisfy you?”

Oh, there can be no doubt, now, that you feel as he does. The little bedroom seems suddenly to be made of gold, the morning sun sinking into his skin as though this is the first sunrise ever to grace Middle-Earth, the world born anew before him. Yet for all his elation Legolas knows not how to answer—he wants too much, far more than he can ask of you, and he fears his curiosity will never be satisfied.

Smiling all the wider for his silence, you take pity on him, tapping a playful finger against his chest as though in thought. “Perhaps I might tell you what I dreamed of last night. Will that do?” 

Your touch burns over his collarbone, his neck, his jaw, until your thumb sweeps softly over his lower lip. He swallows hard. He sees your sleeping face again, branded into his memory, your lashes fluttering, lips parting as you murmur his name. No, he thinks. It is not enough. “Perhaps you might show me instead.”

There is a heat beyond fire in your smile now, a heat to rival the rising sun. You know as well as he that this alone will not satisfy either of you, that this will begin something new and terrifying, a leap of faith far greater than the one he had taken last night in lying down beside you and closing his eyes. Yet he does not mean to retreat, and nor, it seems, do you. 

“Hmm. It will do, for a start.” 

Legolas is still chuckling fondly at your answer when you press his name against his lips, tangling your fingers in his hair. As you pull his body flush against yours, sighing as he parts your lips to taste the joy and trust and desire on your tongue, his fears and doubts vanish like summer fog, for he knows you have faith in each other utterly. 

He knows that when you take this leap together, you will fly.

[jahnavisurenda-21]

Hazbin Hotel||Alastor X Reader||When You Are Under the Weather||Sickness Comfort

It's a pure torture to be unable to do your usual chores or take care of yourself the tiredness is overwhelming. So, take it Easy. Though, I know the illness would recover if Alastor was there in your room.

You didn't ever feel the need to be worried about your body needing extra sleep, because the tiredness was overwhelming, or your body failed to perform the chores it usually did.

The Early October season, your father would run to the supermarket, to pick out medicine, and get fresh herbs to feed you green tea every evening, or if it got too bad you would drink them two times a day.

It was like he expected you to catch the virus. Well, that much hasn't changed, how nostalgic. But you really wished after in hell, your body would develop the immunity after being in a place that is clearly not for comfort.

You had gotten really lucky on that note also, really grateful for that. Alastor, ever the charmer.

He took really good care of you, it would sometimes strike worry that he is a sinner demon those red eyes, his sclera, irises are a proof of how many souls work under him.

But you had never found such a safe place than in his arms, although he isn't always for physical assurance.

"No, I'm not going anywhere today My dear, my schedule is all cleared up, maybe later in the evening to treat the sinners to a broadcast, but other than that I'm all yours." Alastor, changed the cloth on your forehead, "It's such a lovely thing the age-old napkin dipped in cold water to ease the heat!" He commented,

"Alastor?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"I'm a little hungry..."

"Say no more My dear, although you did worry me when you refused to eat my well-cooked dish this morning."

You heaved a sigh of relief, he was astonishingly patient, it made your heart feel like a swarm of butterflies danced there, it also made your stomach sink a little when you felt like you were bothering him too much."

"My dear, sit up now." He instructed,

You pushed yourself, still feeling your head pound bullets, you received the cream soup with a grateful smile which made Alastor push your hair behind your ear,

"I'm really sorry for bother--"

"Nonsense my dear, it doesn't feel too good seeing you in such a weak state." He honestly replied.

The day passed, by watching some movies despite, Alastor's Proclaims of not wanting to indulge, "In Noisy picture box activities." He did, for you, I told you he was a total sweetheart.

He prepared a bath for you, and changed the sheets so you could sleep better.

The entire gesture made your eyes well up in tears, only for Alastor to shush, and as the last step brought you a little closer to him, yes, you were ridiculously short.

"No one had ever taken care of me, like this... except at.. m-my home... It's so... I miss this, so much" You sobbed,

"Come now my dear, I'll take care of you as long as you need. I'll cancel my broadcast if that's what you need."

"But I want another audio."

"Shall it be a little different?" Alastor asked, brushing your hair, to distract you for a while.

"Different?"

"Since, you like my voice which is very flattering I think you can add this to your again very flattering collection."

The movie finished at 1am, before you fell asleep, and a few minutes later Alastor just lightly opened the door to check on you, filled your water bottle before closing the door.

[annab-nana]

Hand an idea for your sleepover.

Eddie goes to some rock/metal concert and finds the reader aka Hawkin High royalty aka captain of the cheer squad at said concert.

this is my favorite request you've sent in by far like i LOVE this concept

warnings: not proofread

❀ masterlist ❀

you didn't know how it lined up so perfectly, but it did. there was normally a week break between football and basketball season and that weekend just so happened to be the weekend that kiss was going to be in indianapolis for their animalize world tour. it was too perfect of an opportunity to pass up.

it definitely took some sneaking around to work out the kinks, but you made it work. your parents thought you were spending the night at chrissy's and to return the favor to chrissy, her parents were under the impression that she was sleeping over at your place—she was really at jason's.

you were losing yourself as heaven's on fire blasted throughout market square arena. your blood felt electric while coursing through your veins and your throat started to sting in the best way from screaming the lyrics at the top of your lungs.

it was nice to dance on the weekend in your jeans to music you adored rather than in your cheer skirt for the hawkins high sports team. you loved cheer. it was everything to you, but nothing matched the experience you were soaking in right now.

you were so lost in it all that you almost didn't feel the tap on your shoulder and you definitely weren't expecting to see the face you turned to.

"eddie?" you called loudly in an attempt to be heard over the loud music.

he stepped closer to you so you could hear each other better. "so, my eyes don't deceive me. it is y/n y/l/n, queen of hawkins high."

you playfully rolled your eyes at him. the nickname was never your favorite, but it was what it was. you leaned forward to be closer to his ear. "in the flesh."

you had seen the boy smile a lot. he always did when he was with his friends at school or when he was being theatrical on the cafeteria tables during lunch. but something about the grin he wore now combined with the sheen of sweat on his skin and his wilder-than-normal curls had your knees feeling a little weak.

he tilted himself forward to speak in your ear. "what are you doing here?"

"what?" you started, a smirk growing on your lips. you knew no one from school ever expected to see you at a concert like this, but you liked to know you had some surprises up your sleeve. "didn't expect me to be a fan?"

"honestly, no, but, i always knew you were at least a little bit cool," he teased. he glanced around and noticed there was no one with you. "you're here alone?"

"yeah."

"me too," he stated before looking down for a second and then meeting your eyes once more. "well, i'll let you get back to your little dancing bubble, but it was a nice surprise to see you here."

eddie took a step away from you, but your fingers circled his wrist to hold him back. his brows tugged together when he looked back at you.

"wait, stay. you're good company, munson."

this time, you swore you'd collapse at the smile he showed you.

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