#not entirely satisfied with how this turned out but eh

[addystuffs]

creechur crossover :) fanart for @phykoha 's tiny mutant feral turtles and @tangledinink 's larger mutant feral turtles!

the creechurs have been roaming around in my brain for a while so i had to do this :)

[raggedyflowers]

“When you try to rizz them up”

summary: one piece character reacting at you (trying) to rizz them up. it’s my first time writing smut so … don’t look at me I’m shy (may delete later)

character: Ace, Law, Sanji, Zoro x female reader

cr: NSFW 🔞, heavily flirting, suggestive words, semi public sex

Ace:

Drinking with Ace was not a smart idea ‘cause while the alcohol went directly on your brain, it seemed that Ace burned it as soon as it touched his lips. So it’s not a big surprise when at the end of the evening you were drunk, but he was perfectly fine. “So” you smirked at him, with a courage you usually didn’t have. “You catch fire only to the fist or even up the elbow?” it was such a dumb line that you should’ve feel embarrassed even if drunk, but Ace found it endearing. “You are so out your mind right now, y/n” he told you, helping you get to your room. “You make me out of my mind” you kept going, ignoring his laughter. “Whatever you say” he respond to you. “Usually I’m better at flirting” you mumble to yourself. “You’re going great, why don’t you try when your sober?” he asked you with a smirk, leavening you at the door at yours room without words. The next time you hanged out together, Ace kept an eye on you. “Try to remain sober this time, y/n” he winked at you. “I really wanna satisfy your curiosity”.

that night he did satisfy your curiosity… and not just that

you two found your way to Ace’s room and then he showed you how fast he can warm up the situation

He let you sit on his face and he spent the night eating you out

Law:

Your relationship with Law has always been private and even if someone could have said that he was cold with you, you know behind closed door Law was nothing but a loving and caring partner. It didn’t stop you to try to rizz him up in front of the rest of the Heart Pirates. You loved seeing him blushing, but most of all you loved what did come after. “You don’t need to use your devil fruit” you said to a confused Law. “You already have my heart”. You look satisfied the red cheek of your boyfriend who shock his head. “Why are you like that, y/n-ya?” he asked talking over the laughter of your crewmates. “Like what?” you asked innocently. “I just want you to shamble my organs with your dic —” you never finished the sentence since Law grabbed your arms and took you away.

“You already stopped being a brat, eh y/n-ya?” he asked after pinned you at the wall as soon as you two have entered in his room

You could’ve just bite your tongue for keeping your moans low

“Ah-ah” he said while slowly tracing your entrance with his tattooed fingers. “Don’t stop talking now. Let everyone hear you like before”

And then he push his fingers inside of you and you couldn’t do nothing but scream his name

Needles to say your organs were actually shambled that night

Sanji:

“You should wear the burgundy suit more often” you said to Sanji taking him aback. “Mmh?” he asked you, stopping cutting the vegetables. “I need something pretty to look at”. You always said things like that to him, joking mostly, but not entirely. And you loved seeing his cheek turning red after you called him pretty. “Move please, pretty boy” you said one day passing near to him and grabbing his waist to move him. “Y/n ~ ” he mumbled covered by your laugh. “Pretty, really?” he asked you and you cupped his check. “The prettiest” you said to him. “Not as pretty as you, my love” he told you back. “Wanna show me how much pretty you can be for me” you asked him with a mischievous smile.

he did show you how pretty he is

with his red cheek and sweet smile while he pounded into you

“you are the prettiest” he said you groping your breast while he kept his pace. “taking my cock so well”

but really he was the prettiest boys, especially when he lowered himself and started eating you out

Zoro:

One of your favourite activities on the Sunny was watching Zoro work out. You pretended to read a book but your eyes couldn’t help but to lingering on his sweaty body. “Your book is upside down” he said to you with a smirk. “Really?” you asked, without an ounce of shame. “Are you training on the forth swords styles?” Zoro looked at you with confusion. “You know, the other sword in your — ” you pointed at his pants. He smirked. “Wanna found out?” he smirked again.

he actually spent all night “practicing” with his forth sword

you never been more happy to indulge him

“do you like my sword style?” he asked you while keeping the brutal pace pounding into you

you wanted to say yes, but couldn’t form a single thought

[cevansbrat0007]

Hello 🤗 I am back to cause chaos lol I have had this thought for days. What about the reaction of Andy and or Ari if there girl goes and gets waxed down there and they usually go to a woman but this time it was a man ?

Summary: Ari doesn't approve of your latest trip to the spa.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Jealous/Possessive Ari Levinson, Arguments, Smut, Discussions of Personal Grooming Habits, Manhandling, Oral Sex (fem rec), Ass Slapping, Cursing, Minors DNI.

A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

You and Ari are in the middle of a conversation one evening, with both of you taking turns catching the other up on the events of your day. 

“Anyway, I can’t wait to try their new, revamped line of body butters they’ve got coming out next month.” You pause for a moment to shut the dishwasher before dutifully pressing start. “I remember the first time I used their hibiscus and papaya scrub – wait. Or was it the oil?”

You cast a glance over your shoulder at your handsome Bounty Hunter who’s been busy holding up a wall in your kitchen ever since he walked in the door less than fifteen minutes ago. You’re not the least bit surprised when you see him shrug, the poor man looking so lost it was almost comical.    

“Eh, I can’t quite remember.” Your fingers come up to tap your chin. “But whatever it was, it seriously had me smelling so good practically all flippin’ day.” 

Satisfied, you return your attention back to tidying up your kitchen. Since Ari had texted saying he’d already eaten and you hadn’t wanted to leave the clean-up to the last minute, you’d decided to tackle it before you got too tired and didn’t feel like doing it anymore.

“Now, Beast, if you find yourself hungry in the middle of the night you just go on and help yourself. And don’t forget about the biscuits.” You tell him as you move to wash your hands. “They are literally the backbone of the entire dish.”

A beat goes by before your rugged companion responds. And when he finally does, it’s with something you least expect.  

“So, I take it there weren’t any, uh, other lady waxers workin’ at that fancy spa place of yours today?” Ari coughs, appearing more than a little uncomfortable with the subject matter at hand. 

“Huh?” Confused, you lean back against the countertops before bracing yourself on your elbows. “That’s all you managed to get out of the last ten minutes?”

His sheepish response of “well, yeah” has you shaking your head in exasperation. 

“Of course there were. The staff at Ostara is almost all exclusively female.”   

“Oh. It’s just that…” He gazes up at the ceiling, almost like he’s waiting for the right words to come tumbling down out of the sky. “When I asked how your day was a little bit ago, you mentioned that someone named Michèle handled your waxing appointment. I just assumed it was a woman...” 

“Nope.” You reply, crossing your arms over your chest. “Michèle is most definitely a guy.”  

“Okay.” Ari blows out an uncertain breath the same time as one of his big hands comes to rub at the back of his neck. “Not too sure how I feel about that.”

“About what?”

He gives a lame shrug before jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “‘I guess I’m just not too keen on the idea of another man seeing you…like that. In fact I know I’m not.”

His words have your mouth falling open. “Beast!” You exclaim, slapping an incredulous hand to your forehead. “I promise that we kept everything strictly professional.”

“Never said it wasn’t.” He mumbles, even as he continues glowering at you from across the room.   

“Welp, now that we cleared that up I think I’m ready for bed.” You push away from the counter, intending to put an end to the discussion by heading upstairs. Although a part of you should’ve known that it couldn’t possibly be that easy. “If you decide you wanna join me, you might wanna try getting over yourself first.” 

“Now hold on.” He goes to reach for you as you pass by, but because you see it coming, you manage to dance out of the way. “Bird, wait!”

You simply didn’t have the energy to argue with him about something as trivial as this tonight. He could get over it, or he could go home.

“Slow down a second, woman!”

To your credit, you manage to make it all the way to the top of the stairs and into your bedroom without looking back once. Not that you needed to anyway since you could feel that your Bounty Hunter was hot on your heels. 

“Hey!” Ari growls, snagging a fistful of your oversized sleepshirt and hauling you flush against his hard chest. “You know I hate it when you walk away in the middle of a conversation. Drives me fuckin’ nuts every single time.”

Now that you knew to be true. It was part of the reason you always kept that move in your back pocket. Because it always bought you time while pissing him off. 

“You were being ridiculous.” You tell him, reaching behind you to twine your arms around his neck. “But if you’re finished, I suppose I could be convinced to let you take me to bed.” 

All is quiet for a moment as your eyes flutter closed, your body content to relax as you listen to the sound of his heartbeat. A hint of a smile tugs at your mouth when you feel two large, warm hands settle on your hips, followed by a whisper of lips tracing along the shell of your ear. 

“How ‘bout you finish telling me about why you let another man see what’s mine?” While Ari manages to keep his tone low and even, there’s no mistaking the fact that he’s pissed.

And just like that, the spell is broken. Immediately, you pull away – surprised when he lets you go. 

“Seriously?” You snap, almost tripping over your own two feet. “I already told you, the girl who usually does it called in sick. What else did you expect me to do, Ari? Skip it?”

“Well, maybe.” Ari grunts, his sensual lips curving into a frown. “Not sure why you even felt the need to subject yourself to that shit in the first place. I had no idea when I left you this morning that you were planning to abuse my pussy like that.” You watch as he runs an agitated hand through his chestnut locks. 

“Just so we’re clear, this is my body we’re talking about, okay? Which means I'm in control of what happens to it.” You perch on the edge of the bed, your entire body bristling with annoyance. It was a shame that your man refused to let this one ride.

“Bullshit.” He hisses before grabbing the bottom of his faded gray t-shirt and dragging it over his head. “I’m not talking about your body, I’m talking about my pussy. The same greedy cunt I find myself feedin’ damn near everyday.”

“Oh, don’t be crass.” Your tone is rife with indignation, even as you feel your cheeks heat. 

“Who the hell’s bein’ crass, Duchess? All I’m doing is telling the truth.” Next he goes to work on his jeans, unfastening the button and zipper before dragging them down his legs and kicking them into a random corner of the room, leaving him clad in only a pair of black boxer briefs. “I tell you all the time about how fucking greedy she is, don’t I?”

Okay, fine. But that didn’t mean he had to be so loud about it. So what if you hadn’t been the type to enjoy sex all that much before Ari came along? Now you couldn’t get enough. Where was the crime, officer?  

“I’m not that greedy.” You pout, doing your best to ignore the wetness coating your thighs.

“Baby.” Ari murmurs, bridging the distance so that he can bend down to take your lips in a brief kiss. “How many times have you been done – I’m talking absolutely spent – and she hasn’t wanted to let me go?” He briefly distracts himself by twisting one of your curls around his finger. “So I’ve gotta take you again. Fuck you even longer and harder so she’ll finally let us both get some rest.” 

“I–I’m not even sure I know what you’re talking about.” Except you absolutely did know what he was talking about. And it was absolutely true. Well, most of it anyway. 

“Is that so?” Ari murmurs as his voice dips, his tone pitched to arouse. “Then perhaps you need me to help jog your memory.” His leans in trail a line of soft, sensual kisses along the curve of your throat. 

“Maybe.” You rasp, tilting your chin up so as to grant him easier access. 

“I’ll do whatever you want so long as today is the last day I ever have to hear about you letting another man see what’s mine.”

“That is IT!” You snap, shooting off the bed so fast you barely miss smacking heads. “Fuck you, Ari Levinson! If you’re so hellbent on making something out of nothing then you can just see yourself out already.”

“I can’t help it if what I’m feeling actually feels like something instead of nothing.” You can’t help but notice the way his heated gaze tracks your every movement. 

“For the last time, I went to a salon and spa to see a licensed esthetician for a professional waxing appointment like I have done for ages. Today it just so happened to be with a guy.” This time when he tries to touch you’re quick to slap his hand away. “Nothing happened other than me enduring having hot wax poured onto, and then subsequently ripped off of, my nether regions. That is it.” You huff, poking him in the chest with your finger. 

“And I’m trying to tell you that you didn’t need to put yourself through all that.” You jump when he nips at the offending finger, gently catching it between his teeth. “Not for me. I don’t mind a little hair. Doesn’t bother me any.”

Well, you would be sure to file that one away for future reference.

“But I didn’t do it for you, you goof!” You yank your hand away, attempting to put some distance between yourself and the annoying, half-naked Bounty Hunter standing in front of you. “I did it for me. It’s part of my…my self-care, or whatever.” Your pulse speeds up when you watch him reach inside his boxers to adjust his rapidly hardening cock. “Okay? But I won’t use Michèle again if it bothers you that much.”

“Appreciate that.” Ari nods once, his perfect teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he slowly backs you into a corner. “But I wanna put it on record that I’m the type of man who’s gonna enjoy his meal however you’re fixin’ to serve it, sweet Bird.”

Holy shit. Why the fuck did that make your pussy gush the way it just did?

“M–meaning?” You gasp when you collide with a nearby wall. Grinning, Ari slips a wandering hand between your bodies, pleased when he finds you naked and wet for him. He cups your bare pussy, reveling in the way your sticky honey eagerly coats his palm.  

“I just don’t want you thinkin’ about depriving me because you’re in between appointments, or 'cuz your regular gal has to reschedule.” You let out a whimper when Ari grinds the heel of his palm against your swollen clit. “I’m afraid that’s not going to work for me. Or, I suspect, for her.” 

“You’re so bossy.” You whine, rising on your toes as he continues to tease you. “You really gotta work on that.”

“You think so, beautiful Bird?” He gazes down at you through lidded eyes, his easy grin bordering on indulgent. And then he applies more pressure, not missing the way your toes curl into the plush carpet as pleasure begins to overwhelm you.        

“Uh huh.” Your hands go to grip his forearm, perhaps hoping to better increase the friction. 

“Then I reckon I just might owe you an apology.” And truth be told, he recognized that he probably did. It was entirely possible that he let the whole Michèle thing bother him more than it ought to. Perhaps he’d sleep on it and see how he felt about it all tomorrow. Or not.

But for now, there was something else he could do to help mend things – provided he was willing to get a little filthy. 

Ari surprises you by removing his hand. But just when you’re about to pitch a fit, he drops to his knees in front of you. “Let me make it up to you, sweetheart.” He begins as his fingers trail their way along the soft skin of your calf. “Let me apologize for giving into some of my baser instincts, like the neanderthal you’ll probably wanna claim that I am.”

“Beast–” You open your mouth to respond, only to let out a surprised squeal when he picks up your leg and drapes it over one of his broad shoulders. “Jesus!”

“Hush.” He then leans in to bestow a hot, open mouthed kiss to your exposed pussy. He groans against your most intimate flesh, savoring the sweet, earthy taste of you. “Need to make sure she’s okay before I start apologizing too much.” Is all he says before he goes back to burying his face between your thighs, nuzzling at your glistening folds with the tip of his nose. 

“Are you sensitive anywhere?” Ari growls, his voice coming out slightly muffled as he circles your throbbing bundle of nerves with his skilled tongue. “Sore?”

“No.” You breathe, lightly running your fingers through his dark brown strands. “In fact, I feel ah-may-zing.” You finish with a tiny giggle.

“Good.” 

That’s your only warning before your world suddenly shifts as Ari tosses your other leg over his shoulder. Next thing you know, he’s back to standing at his full height. And you’re now touching the ceiling with your thighs locked around his head.     

“Omigosh!” You cry, the sound of your nervous laughter filling the room. “You’re gonna hurt yourself if you don’t – ooh…oh God yes…yesyesyes!” You smack your open palm against the ceiling as your Bounty Hunter begins to eat you like a man starved. 

“Oh don’t stop, Beast, please!” You sob, grinding your dripping pussy against Ari’s face, soaking his beard just the way he likes.  

Words, rough and unintelligible, rumble out from somewhere deep in his chest. And while you may not be able to understand him, you know exactly what he’s trying to tell you. His hands gripping your ass to hold you in place are enough to drive the message home. 

You were to take everything he gave you like a good girl. His good girl. So you do. You practically scream yourself hoarse as Ari takes his time tormenting you with every sensual flick, every tortuous swirl of his wide, flat tongue.

He gets off on the way he's making your legs shake, the sound of you unbridled cries and soft whimpers leaving him painfully hard. But still he doesn’t stop. He continues taking his time, worshiping you the best way he knows how.

“I’m sorry, baby.” Ari grunts when he finally comes up for air, his breaths coming in sharp pants. “But I’m still gonna need a little more time to work on my apology.” One of his hands delivers a swift blow to your ass, making you yip. “Really need to reconsider my behavior today while I put a fresh spitshine on my pussy.” He winks at you then, letting you know that he means every word.

“I’m sure she won’t mind.” He quips with a grin, his chin still shiny with your juices. “And neither will you.”

END

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[animasola86]

Lessons in Love-Making

Notes: So I received an amazing request recently and this is what I made of it! I hope you enjoy! (If you like to give me smut requests as well, please feel free to do so! My inbox is open!)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

Genre: Fluff/Smut

Warnings: NSFW! MDNI! Explicit sexual content! Assisted masturbation. Voice kink. Fingering. Sex. (Infidelity?)

Word count: 9.8k

Synopsis: To say you and your boyfriend have a poor sex life would be an understatement. One day after a particularly horrible experience, you find yourself crying in the hallway. And then Sebastian finds you, always eager to lend a hand.

Warning: It's smut time again! Yay! I mean, beware, there's some spice below the cut! Don't get it in your eyes!

-- can be read on AO3 too --

Lessons in Love-making

You are tense. So tense, your entire body is shaking. Gritting your teeth and clenching your hands into fists as you walk through the empty hallway, you are not surprised when the first tears roll down your cheeks. Because you are not just tense, you are frustrated. And you've been frustrated for quite a while now.

It always comes to you when you walk back to your common room, in that post-haze clarity, not that there had been any haze, there was fog, sure, perhaps a few lightning bolts and one clap of thunder, and the rain that should be soothing was just a little drizzle, if it came at all.

And if you had time to think of silly metaphors for your poor sex life, then it really wasn't that good apparently.

You let out a shuddering sigh and stop walking, too wound up to wipe at your wet cheeks. Too wound up to do anything and so you sink to the ground and just sit there, trying to ease your breathing and your drumming heart, trying to clear your head and not think of what has happened and what has been happening over the last months.

Soon you are so focused on creating your own personal pro and con list, that you shriek loudly when you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder. You jump and hit your head against the wall behind you, looking up with wide eyes and your mouth open.

“Sorry, didn't mean to startle you.”

And just like that your mind is empty. His voice makes sure of that. And that smile. Yet all you do is stare, while the tears still stream down your face.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asks as he settles down next to you on the floor.

You let out a sob and raise a hand to wipe at your tears, before you give him a shrug and half-hearted grunt of confirmation. He raises an eyebrow and watches you closely.

“What happened?” he inquires with that low voice that causes your tense body to shudder deeply.

You swallow and look away, unable to answer him right away. Even though he's been your friend for quite some time now and you've shared a lot of low and high points together and you know you can tell him anything, you feel embarrassed to address your frustration.

You feel him scooting closer and then his hand is on your knee. “Did he do something?” he asks and just the implication that your boyfriend could have done something bad to you makes you turn your head.

“No!” you say quickly, before you pause and let out a dry laugh. “That's the thing, really... he never does... anything...”

Sebastian tilts his head, frowning slightly as his dark eyes wander over your face. “He doesn't satisfy you, eh?” he then states and the brutal straight-forwardness of his words makes you wince.

You don't answer right away and that is probably answer enough. Sighing deeply, you look down at his hand on your knee, feeling his warm touch and how it affects you. And you shouldn't feel like this. Because you have a boyfriend and it is not Sebastian Sallow. You would add sadly, but in truth you are quite content with the boy that asked you to be his girlfriend almost six months ago.

You love talking to him, you feel safe in his presence, he makes you laugh and happy. But when it came to sex, he was really... bad. And for months you've just dealt with it, not complaining, just trying to be happy for him because apparently it was quite enough for his liking. And the sad truth is that you've accepted feeling unattended whenever he would find his release – and then fall asleep right after. You didn't even mind the pain any more, because quite frankly, it was the only thing you could count on whenever you would end up in bed with him.

Tonight has been especially bad, causing your ever-growing frustration to burst through the seams of your patience. And the tears that won't stop flowing are proof of that.

“Please don't mention this to anyone,” you whisper and wipe at your cheeks again. “It... it really is not that big a deal...”

“Are you sure about that?” Sebastian asks and gently grabs your chin to make you look at him. “This does look like a big deal to me...”

You shake your head and his hand away, sobbing quietly. “I'm just frustrated and it's okay, it'll pass, like always. It's silly, really, crying over something like that...”

“It's not, you have needs too. Everyone has. And you shouldn't just be his plaything...” he tells you quietly, his voice vibrating through your very core.

“I'm not! You know he's not like that...” you start defending your boyfriend once more.

The boy next to you watches you closely. “Perhaps you want to be his plaything, but he just doesn't comply.”

“Stop saying plaything, it's vulgar!” you hiss.

He laughs, the sound ringing in your ears. “I can be more blunt, don't worry,” he says and nudges your knee before he leans away and crosses his arms behind his head. “So why don't you take care of your frustration yourself?” he then whispers, his eyes on you.

You stare at him, a little puzzled, before it dawns on you what he means. Averting your eyes, you blush deeply. “I... uh, tried, but it wasn't for me...” you admit eventually under your breath. “It doesn't feel right...”

“Then you may have done it wrong,” he says and leans closer again.

Swallowing hard, you raise your gaze and meet his. “I think I know my body and what it... wants...”

“Do you though?” he asks with a sly smirk.

“Well, of course, it's my body!”

“But then why are you crying in the hallway because your sorry excuse for a boyfriend can't satisfy you the way you like it, hm?”

His words hang in the air, luckily only reaching your ears, and you look at him long and hard. The longer you stare into those dark eyes that practically sparkle in mischief, the hotter you feel, your cheeks positively aflame as they burn your tears right off your skin.

“I can help you,” he then says quietly, and the implication alone makes you lean back from him.

“What? No! I... I have --”

“Yes, I know what you have,” he sighs and tilts his head. “And I'm not saying you should cheat on him with me, okay? I just want to... show you something. Help you out. Fight that frustration with you. Make you feel better.”

His promises sink into your mind and leave you wanting exactly that. You know how good he is at manipulating you, not that you would call it that, he was just very convincing. Persuasive even. And this was for your own good, wasn't it? Like he said, you have needs too. And as you wipe at your burning eyes, you find yourself inhaling deeply, before you nod shortly.

When you look at him, you see his face lighting up, the faint shadow of dimples gracing his freckled cheeks. “Of course this will be purely educational,” he tells you with a wink as he gets to his feet and holds his hand out for you to grab.

When you do and he pulls you into a standing position as well, you bite your lip and square your shoulders. “Of course,” you agree.

*

“So tell me what you usually do with him,” Sebastian asks as you sit down on that old couch in the far back of the dimly lit Undercroft.

You feel embarrassed, but then you sigh. “Well, we sit on his bed and then we... kiss and that's quite nice,” you start, already defending your boyfriend again, almost unconsciously. “And he would touch me...”

“Where?” the boy next to you inquires.

You look at your hands in your lap. “He usually gropes my breasts, sometimes my hips,” you whisper, before you look at him and he nods to make you continue. “Then he'd lie on top of me --”

“Are you naked when he does that?” You wince slightly at the bluntness of his question and look away again.

“No,” you admit, your ears burning. “He... doesn't like being naked...”

Sebastian laughs loudly at that, before clearing his throat. “I'm sorry, I...” he says a little breathlessly, before he shakes his head. “So you just grope each other through your clothes? But you do have sex, right?”

You blush deeply once more and fidget with your fingers. “Well, yes, he would push my underwear off and... stick it in...”

You hear him stifle another noise of surprise or whatever you want to call that gurgle that escapes his throat and you start feeling a little more frustrated, but for a different reason. “And then what?” you hear him ask once he catches himself again.

“He'd...” You let out a groan. “Tell me again why it is necessary to share these things with you?” you ask and stare at him.

“Well I have to know what you already do know in order to teach you more,” he tells you with a smile. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ridicule your boyfriend, I'm sure he has other redeeming qualities...”

“He has!” you confirm with narrowed eyes. “That's why I put up with that, okay?”

He raises his eyebrows, then nods. “I see. So, please, continue, tell me what exactly he does that leaves you so frustrated.”

You sigh and inhale deeply. “Well, he... comes very quickly. He's barely in there before he... grunts, pulls out and comes all over my stomach...”

“He doesn't even finish inside?” Sebastian exclaims in surprise.

“Because he shouldn't!” you reply a little more agitated than you've expected.

“Why not? You do take those contraceptive potions, don't you?” He tilts his head, looking genuinely concerned now.

“Yes, I do, all the girls do, we are basically forced to. Nurse Blainey makes sure of that...” you whisper.

“But then why doesn't he come inside you?” he asks as if you were talking about what to eat for breakfast and he was really appalled by your choice of cereal.

You take a sharp breath and look away. “I don't know, he probably doesn't like it...”

“I bet he never even tried...” you hear him whisper. “Trust me, it's the best feeling...”

You swallow and look at him. His smile is both boyishly charming and devilishly sultry. “So you know your stuff, eh?” you whisper under your breath.

He laughs. “I do, love,” he says with a wink. “And I'm going to teach you a thing or two. If you let me,” he adds quietly.

You are intrigued, certainly. And you've already shared all those embarrassing things with him. Talking about more couldn't possibly hurt, right?

But you haven't taken into account that Sebastian Sallow was more for learning by doing than anything, so you suddenly find yourself sitting sideways on the couch, your legs lying on his lap as he gently pushes your skirt up to reveal your underwear. Biting your lip, you watch him.

“So how would you normally touch yourself?” he asks as he looks into your eyes, making it sound so easy and simple as if he wanted to know your favourite colour.

You blush and look down, moving your hand between your legs slowly. “I'd... rub right here...” you whisper and put your middle finger against the thick fabric of your bloomers, lightly teasing your heated skin.

“No skin contact?” You shake your head and he huffs quietly. “Love, you have to give your body room to breathe, let the air caress your skin, put your fingers right in there, properly feel yourself. May I?” he then asks and you look up in surprise when he gently grabs your hand.

You nod hesitantly and watch how he moves your hand against your centre, repeating the motion you just made, guided by his slender fingers pressing against yours. “Remember this feeling, okay?” He then grabs the waistband of your underwear with his free hand and without hesitation pushes your hand beneath the fabric until you feel your fingers gliding over your hot, wet skin.

You gasp and almost jerk your hand away if he wouldn't hold it. You can feel not only your fingers, but his as well, as he presses your hand firmer against your skin. “How does that feel?” he whispers and his voice alone makes you issue a tiny whimper.

Taking a shuddering breath, you feel him letting go of your hand, before he puts his fingers around the waistband of your underwear and in a swift and unexpected motion pushes it down your hips and off your rear and legs, and you barely even noticed him raising your body for that. Too shocked about his brash action to fully react to it, you instead focus on your hand resting on your exposed mound, your fingers teasing at your folds. Your first instinct is to cover yourself with your other hand, but you hear him shushing you softly.

His hand is lying on your thigh now, his touch warm and somewhat comforting. You bite your lip and look at him. With a smile he tells you: “Come on, don't be shy, touch yourself.”

Oddly enough you don't feel shy at all in his presence, a little taken aback maybe, but not shy. And so you start moving your finger over your skin, exploratively, literally testing the waters as you let it slide over your lower lips and then between them. After just a few rubs, you feel your breath accelerating.

“You might want to move your finger a little higher,” he whispers, his voice not only helping you calm down under the unusual task he's given you, but also helping you in other ways that are quite the opposite of relaxing.

You follow his advise and move your fingertip higher until you feel the little nub that causes your stomach to tense slightly when you touch it. You breathe loudly through your nose as you push your finger against it and start rubbing slow circles around it. Closing your eyes you focus on the sensation, until you feel a warm breath near your ear.

“That's it, keep doing that,” Sebastian whispers right into your ear after he has leaned closer to you, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your thigh. You open your mouth slightly and take a shuddering breath. “Feels good, right?” he continues, his voice causing goosebumps to ripple over your skin like waves. That or the steady movement of your finger. You feel your hips stuttering slightly, your thighs twitching with every push against that agitated bundle of nerves.

“Oh yes...” you moan softly and lean your head back, chewing on your lips as you work your finger against yourself. You feel a familiar tension, yet somehow it feels different, more intense, and you move harder and faster against that nub. As your body starts shaking badly, almost spasming, you feel his hand pressing on your thigh as if to calm you, or hold you in place, and in your desire to finally finish this you grab it with your free hand and close your fingers around his.

He holds onto your hand tightly and even scoots closer to you, lifting and parting your legs slightly as he does so, and then wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Almost there, love,” he whispers and you whimper under the sound of his voice, your eyes squeezed shut as you lean against him, furiously rubbing yourself. “You're doing so well,” he adds and his praise is what pushes you right over the edge.

You buck your hips and cling to his hand as you feel the coil that had been sitting in your stomach for so long, unattended and so tightly twisted it was almost painful, suddenly explode into a blindingly bright light. You gasp and cry out, your legs twitching as your toes curl up and you feel the blood rushing through your head while you hold your breath under the unknown feeling of your release.

As you slowly come down from your high, your fingers shaking against your heated skin, you feel him stroking your arm and squeezing your hand. “Well done,” he whispers and you feel his lips brushing against your hair. You are breathing heavily and when you open your eyes, you see him smiling at you. Your cheeks are flushed, your lips parted and trembling. You feel as if you've just run up several staircases.

“Was that your first orgasm?” he then asks and you just look at him, taking in his face, until the cold reality of the situation comes back to you. Blinking slowly, you squirm against him, but he holds you tightly, not letting you go.

“I... I shouldn't have --” you mutter under your breath, quickly looking away again, biting your lip.

“Oh you definitely should have, that was long overdue apparently,” he says quietly, shifting beneath you until he pulls you right onto his lap. You lean your shoulder against his chest and slowly look at him, fighting the embarrassment. “Don't be ashamed,” he whispers as he tilts his head, his dark eyes on you. “That was beautiful to witness.”

His words do the exact opposite of what he has intended, they don't reassure you, they make it worse. You look away with a hoarse groan, chewing nervously on your lips as you clamp your hands to your core and clench your thighs around them, too shaken still to think about just covering yourself with your skirt.

“Do you feel a little better at least?”

“A little,” you confess quietly.

“I'm sure there's more where that came from,” he then whispers, his lips right against your ear and you flinch and turn your head towards him with wide eyes.

“What do you mean?” you ask innocently, truly innocently because you just don't know any better.

He smirks at you. “You know, love, unlike men, who need a little time to gather themselves, women are capable of experiencing multiple orgasms in quick succession,” he explains almost matter-of-factly and you listen with blushed cheeks but growing interest. “Do you want to test that theory?”

You stare at him and lick your lips, still feeling the distant shudders of your last release, but you know he's right. You've been tense for so long, never able to let it all out, so why stop now? The harm is already done, you tell yourself and try not to think of the details of experiencing this whole thing with another boy while your boyfriend is probably fast asleep and happy about what you'd done earlier.

“Yes,” you tell Sebastian quietly and watch him smile wider at you. Without any warning, he then grabs your shoulders and turns you around until your back is pressed against his chest and you sit with your legs wide open astride on his lap, facing the vast space of the Undercroft.

“You can put your feet on the couch if you want, but keep those legs open, okay?” he whispers, his breath hitting your ear as he leans his head around slightly. You shift on top of him and gasp softly when he snakes his arms under yours and around your torso, grabbing the fabric of your skirt to ball it up more and push it out of the way.

“I can... take it off...” you mumble under your breath.

“If you want to,” he says and lets go of it.

You stand up then and suddenly feel your legs shaking beneath you. He quickly grabs your waist to support you and you inhale deeply to gather yourself. With shaking fingers you unclasp your skirt and push it off your hips until it drops to your feet. Stepping out of it, you then settle back on his lap and put your feet up like he told you to. You can feel the soft fabric of his trousers and slightly more as you shift your rear against him to find a comfortable position.

His hands now roam freely all the way to your legs, his thumbs teasing at your inner thighs. “I can assume you've never had a finger inside you?” he whispers against you and you feel a shiver run down your spine.

“Isn't it enough to have a --” Weirdly enough you can't say it, can't name it. You feel your cheeks blush even more.

“The word is cock, darling,” he tells you in that sultry voice that masks the vulgarity of his words so well. “Or dick or whatever you want to call it,” he adds with a chuckle. “Don't be afraid to name it. It won't bite. It's there for your pleasure, you know?” You squirm and make a low noise of embarrassment. He only chuckles again. “And you know, no, it's not enough to have a cock in your pussy. It is certainly the main goal, but there are so many other things you can use to pleasure yourself. Like your fingers,” he concludes and you feel your ears burning when you listen to him. He talks about these things so easily, it's almost impressive if it wouldn't be so lewd.

As you still chew on his words, he suddenly grabs your hand and guides it between your legs, his fingers on yours as he presses them against your folds that feel warm and wet under your touch. You inhale sharply and bite your lip. Feeling him rest his chin on your shoulder, his cheek rubbing against yours, you look down and watch him move your hand up and down your mound, teasing at your clit, pressing into your slit until you feel your fingertip pushing against your entrance.

“Give it a try,” he tells you quietly and just the sound of his voice makes you close your eyes and take a deep breath, before you tease your fingertip into your hole.

It feels so tight and you suddenly know why it hurts every time your overeager boyfriend presses his thing (still can't even think about it) into you without warning or preparation. You feel Sebastian moving his fingers back to close around your wrist as he guides your hand further, pushing your finger deeper. You shudder at the sensation.

“How does it feel?” he asks and you feel the vibrations of his voice more than you hear his words.

“Weird,” you reply quietly as your finger scrapes over your soft wet flesh. “So... squishy...”

He chuckles. “That makes it so desirable, love,” he whispers and you feel him turn his head and brush his lips against your jaw. “It can be soft and welcoming, but then it can clench and tighten and really squeeze...” He inhales deeply, almost longingly, when all you can do is focus on his voice and the sensation that causes inside you.

And you knew then that it wasn't your finger inside you that made your stomach tense, it was the timbre of his voice, those low vibrations, the way he pronounced certain words, those low and high notes of his speech, and that combined with his lewd words was just irresistible to you. A soft moan escapes you as you shift slightly against him, pressing your back into his chest.

“Keep talking,” you whisper as you move your finger a little faster against your flesh. “Please...”

He seems to pause at your request, then you feel a warm exhale against your cheek as he breathes a throaty laugh. “You like my voice, huh?” he concludes and all you can do is nod. “That's new. Have you always --” He pauses again. “Are you honestly jerking off to my voice right now?” he asks and you blush and bite your lip, but you don't stop moving your finger against yourself.

He laughs softly and tightens his grip on your wrist as he helps you with that motion. “Try adding another finger,” he tells you, his lips brushing against your ear and you shiver deeply. You comply and slip your index finger in with your middle finger, slightly stretching your entrance as you do so. Another moan escapes you. “Push as deep as you can,” he continues in a low whisper that resonates through your entire body. You do what he says and you don't even flinch at the wet squelching sound you create with your movements. “In and out, that's right,” he comments on what you're doing. “Go a little faster, really move those digits. The more friction the better, love.”

You feel your heart pounding inside your chest as you work your hand against your folds, your fingers slipping in and out fast and hard and you can feel your walls clenching around them, certainly reacting to your touch. Your breaths become shallow and you feel your wrist hurting from him holding it and you moving your hand so much, but you keep going.

“Now put your thumb on your clit,” he whispers, seemingly watching you follow his every word. “Pump those fingers and press against your clit and I bet it'll feel even better...” And it does and you almost flinch off his lap if he wouldn't hold you as you feel your thighs twitching when you start rubbing the sensitive nub with every rapid pump motion of your fingers.

You lean your head back against him, breathing louder and harder, your whole body shuddering under the sensation. “You're so good at this,” he tells you and you feel even better. “And I wonder why you never did this before, you're a natural.”

“You... you're... helping...” you whimper breathlessly. You hear him chuckle and then his lips press against your ear.

“Am I?” he whispers with his voice so deep and low that you can only moan more. “And I could tell you anything? And you would still find it... sexy? Hmm,” he hums and you almost lose it right there and then. “Hmm, okay, so, did you know --”

But you never heard whatever he wanted to tell you as your entire body shuddered all over again. You arch your back against him as you buck your hips off his lap and really push your feet into the cushions of the couch when you feel that awful knot tensing up painfully once more before it breaks free with such a force that you let out a cry of pleasure that echoes loudly through the Undercroft. While your hips stutter, you feel something warm and wet coating your hand as you finally still your movements and even press your thighs together before you curl up on his lap, shaking uncontrollably under your release.

He holds you in his arms as you shake and whimper, gently cooing in your ear, and you feel completely spent and very, very happy as you lean against him, smiling tiredly as your eyelids flutter open.

“That was powerful...” he whispers as he meets your eyes with a smirk. “Well done. You even squirted, I'm impressed,” he tells you and you frown at his words, before you loosen your legs and open them once more, only to see a large wet stain on his green trousers.

Despite the sensation still rushing through your body, you basically jump off his lap and hide your face in nothing but pure humiliation as you stand awkwardly in front of the couch, your release still dripping down your legs as you shift on them shakily. “No! Oh no, I'm... I'm so sorry... I didn't --”

He is with you immediately, pulling you into a tight hug and holding you against him. “Shh, it's alright! Don't worry about it! It's completely natural,” he whispers, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “And I can clean that up, no problem. Don't be ashamed! Be proud!”

You issue a strangled noise and bury your burning face in his shirt, your hands clawing at the back of it. It takes you a moment to recover and you feel even sillier over how you've reacted to your mess. “Sorry,” you mumble once more and he shushes you once more.

He even grabs your shoulders and leans you back, looking at you with a serious expression that stuns you for a moment. “Don't apologize,” he whispers and tilts his head. “I wanted you to feel good about yourself, and didn't you feel good just now?”

You swallow and nod almost a little timidly, chewing on your lip.

Sebastian smiles at you. “Then focus on that,” he says and you feel his hands moving down your arms until they hold your waist and pull you closer to him. “And I'm sure you want to feel good again, don't you?”

You take a shuddering breath, unsure if you do. But then he leads you back to the couch, sits down and pulls you onto his soiled lap. You shift a little uncomfortably as he pulls his arms around you and presses your shoulder into his chest. You look at him a little conflicted.

“Hey, cheer up!” he says with a smirk and kisses the top of your head. “And tell me... what do you think about toys?” You frown when he goes back to the topic right away as if nothing has happened. He mistakes your facial expression for confusion and adds: “You know, those phallic things that imitate the real deal? Or other toys you can stuff your pussy with?”

His lewd words make you shiver in slight discomfort and yet they also cause the heat to pool back between your legs immediately. “Haven't thought about those before,” you reply shyly, even though you hold his dark gaze.

“Want to test them out?”

“Do you have stuff like that?” you ask in earnest and surprise, before he chuckles and makes you frown again.

“I'm a wizard, love, I can conjure you anything you desire,” he says with a wink and you blush deeply.

“Perhaps... another time,” you reply eventually. “I... I think I'm good for tonight.”

He watches you closely. “Are you sure? Are you completely frustration-free?”

You consider his question, your eyes wandering over his freckled face. While he waits for your answer, you go back in time and think about your friendship with him. This was still a friendship, right? You have shared so many things, the good and the bad, the worst even, and you were always there for each other. But you have never been this intimate. You've hugged and he's kissed your head a couple of times, tonight included, and he didn't shy away from holding your hand or touching you (appropriately), but you never did the things lovers would do.

And somehow you still didn't consider what has happened tonight to be something like that. He had just helped you, assisted you in relieving the tension that's been troubling you for so long. He's never touched you (inappropriately) himself and you know he wouldn't do that without your permission. And even if the thought of pleasuring yourself right in front of him was still a little daunting to you, you haven't felt too awkward about it because he has made you feel so at ease.

Sitting comfortably on his lap, leaning against his chest, looking into his dark eyes, you suddenly wonder about something else and despite not really wanting to go down that road right now, you just can't shake the thought. So you voice it. “Sebastian?”

“Yes?” he replies, watching you patiently, a gentle smile playing around his lips.

“Why... aren't you my boyfriend?” you ask quietly and for the first time tonight you see him blush. He quickly clears his throat and laughs it off, shaking his head.

“Yes, love, why am I not your boyfriend?” he teases and nudges your shoulder playfully. “Take a guess.”

“Because I chose him or because he was faster in asking me?” you whisper.

You see him clenching his jaw, before he gives you one of his carefree smirks – that you know he uses to hide his deeper thoughts behind. “Both? Honestly, I am happy when you are happy and if you're happy with him --” He pauses then, watching you closely with the smirk slowly fading. “Are you happy with him? If I learned one thing about your beloved boyfriend tonight, it's that he seems to neglect you pretty horribly.”

You inhale sharply. “No, he doesn't! He's really sweet, he just doesn't know any better...” you quickly fall back into defending him.

“And apparently he's unwilling to learn either. Or do you guys just not talk about these things?” he says quietly, his tone a tad too serious for your liking. When you avert your gaze and bite your lip, he exhales loudly. “Of course you don't talk about it! Darling, you have to talk to him if you want to have a better experience! The times are changing, you don't have to take them like they come, you can fight against them, make them better!”

“It's really not that important...” you start quietly, even though you want to agree with him. But some things are always easier said than done.

“Really? It was important enough for you to get so frustrated that you ended up crying in the hallway! I bet he wouldn't like to see you crying either. Talk to him!” he insists, his arms tightening slightly around you. “Or shall I talk to him?”

“No!” you exclaim immediately, staring at him with wide eyes. “Please don't! I --” When you see his smirk, you groan and hit his chest playfully. “Don't even joke about it, okay? He can never find out what... happened here tonight...”

“You know your secrets are safe with me, stop worrying so much!” he says gently and raises a hand to push a strand of your hair out of your forehead. “What we have is special, isn't it? I wouldn't want to jeopardise that.”

“Me neither,” you agree, your eyes boring into his. “Sebastian, I... I want to thank you...” you then start, shifting nervously on his lap.

“No need, love, it's quite alright. I'm always here for you,” he replies, but you shake your head.

“I mean it, let me thank you,” you whisper urgently and he raises an eyebrow.

“What were you thinking of?” he asks then, sounding quite interested in how you want to thank him.

You lick your lips and lean closer until your lips are brushing against his ear for a change. “I...” You blush deeply and inhale sharply, before you lean back and look at him once more. “Listen, don't take this the wrong way. I mean, we've already crossed some lines today, right? So...” Taking another deep breath, you return to whisper into his ear: “I want you to come inside me.”

He grabs your shoulders and stares at you, his lips parted and his eyes wide. “What did you just say?”

You fight the heat overtaking your face and hold your breath when you look at him. “You heard me,” you say and chew on your lips.

“I'm not so sure, to be honest...” he replies quietly, frowning deeply. “Sounded to me as if you --”

“Listen!” You inhale deeply, before you pummel him with your words. “You said it's the best feeling, right? And quite frankly, I want to experience that too for once. So this might also be a selfish request, but also a way of saying thank you for your help tonight...” Staring at him breathlessly, you blink slowly. “What do you say?”

He raises his eyebrows and watches you for a moment, unusually quiet. “Are you sure about this? That would be a major line to cross...” he whispers eventually.

“See it as a service between friends,” you explain with a shy smile.

You see him working his jaw as he looks away slowly, his eyes moving over your exposed legs. His hand moves down to your lower back, teasing under the hem of your shirt, before he lowers it to gently caress the curves of your bare rear. “And we'll still be friends afterwards? Promise?”

You tilt your head. “Of course! Why wouldn't we?”

“What if... that changes things?” he asks quietly, still not looking at you.

“Look at me,” you tell him and reluctantly, he does. “No, really, look at me! I just came all over your blasted trousers! That should have changed things, but it didn't! Not for me. We've been through so much, Sebastian. I think our friendship, or whatever you want to call this, can handle anything!”

He watches you closely, your words slowly bringing the smirk back onto his lips. But you're not done yet.

“And you know? It's only fair that I see you come undone as well, don't you think?” you whisper and smile at him, and despite your confident words and eager attempts to convince him to do that with you, you feel your cheeks burning and your stomach tensing up in anticipation. You might also be dripping onto his trousers some more, but you really don't care any more.

“I suppose,” he replies quietly and you see the tip of his tongue moving over his bottom lip. He smirks wider when he notices where your eyes have wandered. “And you wouldn't consider that cheating? You'd be sleeping with another guy...”

“There will be absolutely no sleeping, okay? Don't you dare fall asleep on me as well! I wouldn't be able to handle it,” you tell him with a hearty laugh.

He chuckles, but you can see a dark shadow crossing his eyes. “No falling asleep, I promise.”

Your eyes move over his face. “You want to do this with me, right? I wouldn't want to... force you or anything.”

His laugh is genuine this time. “You find me a teenage guy who wouldn't want to be forced to have sex!” he says, then clears his throat. “I mean, ugh, you know what I mean!” You see him rolling his eyes as he blushes deeply and you chuckle softly while you raise a hand to rub at his red cheek.

“I want you to feel good too,” you whisper.

“I appreciate that,” he replies, before he tilts his head. “You know, we never even properly kissed and now you expect me to put my cock inside your pussy? That's quite the step we'd be making...”

You almost choke on your own spit when you hear his blunt words before you try to laugh off your shock. “Well... we can also do the steps in between, if it makes you feel better...”

“Well, if I have to,” he mocks your tone and smirks at you, while he extends a hand to cup your face, his long fingers moving into your hair as his thumb caresses your cheek. “Do you want me to kiss you?” he then asks quietly, leaning a little closer.

You look at him, inhaling deeply. “Yes,” you reply without hesitation.

For a moment you just look at each other, each of you weighing the consequences of what is about to happen. But all that flies out the window, or at least your head, when he leans in and presses his lips to yours, gently, softly, testing the waters, and when you kiss him back, he tightens the grip on your face and pulls you towards him, his lips closing around yours eagerly.

You've often imagined kissing Sebastian, or at least for a long while, and you've seen him kissing other girls, but feeling his warm mouth on yours now, with his lips moving confidently against your own and his tongue cheekily slipping into your mouth feels like nothing you could have ever imagined. You are so absorbed in the sensation that you barely notice shifting on his lap until you straddle him, your chest pressed to his as you lean against him, your arms wrapped around his neck as you deepen the kiss almost hungrily.

His hands move down to your hips and even further, and when he starts kneading the soft flesh of your rear, you moan softly into his mouth. He leans back then, watching you out of dark eyes, and you draw a much needed breath. “You really want this?” he whispers equally breathless. You nod and already lean in once more, your lips brushing over his, but he leans back again. “You really want --” You see him clenching his jaw. “You really want me to come inside you?” he says barely audible and you smile at his sudden shyness, or whatever you want to call this kind of hesitation you've certainly never seen from him before.

“Yes,” you breathe against him, your hands finding his face as you hold it firmly. “I want it all. I want you!”

His gaze becomes harder for a moment. “What if I want you too?” he then asks darkly.

You tilt your head and frown, licking your swollen lips. “What do you mean? You have me, right here.”

“What if I... wanted more?” His voice is low, but in a way that causes cold shivers instead of pleasant ones to rush down your spine.

“What are you saying?”

He inhales deeply and then shakes his head, giving you one of his smirks. “Never mind. Forget I said anything,” he then brushes it off and leans in once more to kiss you quickly.

Your turn to lean away. “Sebastian...”

He sighs loudly. “Sorry, I shouldn't have --” You see him closing his eyes for a moment and working his jaw. “This is a service between friends. We are friends, nothing more. You have a boyfriend and I'm just here to help you out when he is too incompetent to treat you right!” He exhales then, leaning his head back against the couch, and rolls his eyes. “Sorry, I mean... I just...” He issues a groan and stays silent.

You grab his face and look at him. He avoids your gaze. “Do you want me to break up with him?” you then ask as straight forward as possible.

His eyes find yours. “I would never ask that of you,” he tells you and even though he sounds sincere, you know better.

“That's not my question,” you whisper.

“Why do you press this so much? Let's just fuck and get it over with!” he grimaces darkly and sits up straighter again, grabbing your waist. “Or not, if you don't want any more because I ruined the mood or something...”

You sigh and roll your shoulders, your thumbs grazing over his cheeks. “Tell me to break up with him,” you say quietly and watch his eyes go wider.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“You don't mean it,” he says quietly, eyeing you closely.

“What if I do? We could do this all the time, without having to hide anything...” you whisper, licking your lips.

“I thought you love him...”

“I love talking to him, spending time with him. The sex, if you want to call it that, was just a... necessity...” you tell him and scoff.

He watches you with dark eyes, his face hard. “What if he doesn't want to talk to you any more... afterwards?”

“His loss,” you say surprisingly indifferently. “I enjoy his presence, but I enjoy yours more,” you tell him with a warm smile.

You see him opening his mouth, ready to say something, make it better or worse, but instead he pushes his lips against yours as he grabs the back of your head and pulls you towards him. You gasp, but quickly lean into the kiss that is much more passionate than before. His words still echo inside your head despite the static trying to push them away and you wonder what if...

He never actually said it, you realize, if he wanted you to break up with your boyfriend, and even though you've seen the signs, you can't be sure. And quite frankly, you are a little apprehensive about making rash decisions while you're still battling your frustrations and basking in the sensations another boy has invoked in you and it wouldn't be fair to -- When you feel Sebastian's tongue pressing against yours demandingly, you focus back on the kiss and for a moment you truly forget about everything.

Your fingers dig into his hair, another thing you've always wanted to do, and you even start grinding your pelvis against him as you kiss him breathlessly. He groans quietly against you, the sound so low and deep it immediately causes a reaction deep within your gut. You grip his hair and wrestle his tongue hungrily, your heart pounding inside your chest. His hands are on your hips, just holding you, but his grip is tight and almost possessive, definitely bruising your skin.

With the last of your willpower (or the urge to breathe) you lean back then and watch him out of half-lidded eyes. “Do you... still want to stick your cock into me?” you ask, blushing from your own whispered words, but also no longer caring about etiquette. He's certainly had a bad influence on you.

Yet he seems just as surprised as you are and issues a short laugh. “Yes,” he eventually says back, breathlessly and with his eyes sparkling mischievously. You smile at him and scoot back on his lap a little as he pushes a hand between your bodies and fumbles with the buttons of his trousers. Watching him eagerly as he finally frees his arousal, you can't help but stare at it for a moment. “You can touch it if you want,” you hear him whisper with a chuckle.

When you look up into his face, you lick your lips and smirk. “I have a better idea,” you whisper back and shift on his lap once more, grabbing his shoulders to pull yourself as close to him as possible before you start moving your pelvis against him, feeling your wet folds sliding over his length as you grind against him slowly.

He immediately gives you the desired reaction and moans deeply, watching you with his eyebrows raised and his lips parted. “Good... idea...” he mutters breathlessly and grabs your waist to assist you in your movements. Together you move in a slow rhythm and you quickly feel your legs shaking and your core burning in pleasure.

Throwing your head back, you gasp and moan softly, before you close your eyes and lean into the sensation. You feel him gripping you tighter, his noises vibrating through you deliciously, before he suddenly grabs the back of your head and pulls your head towards him. Your mouths collide with a smack and after a desperate kiss, he rests his forehead against yours and breathes heavily against your lips. “You wanted me... to come inside you, right?” he whispers deeply.

You open your eyes and look at him, your vision blurry. “Yes...”

“Then please, take me inside already,” he says with a low chuckle. You watch him closely and realize that you are on top and he even confirms your suspicions. “This is your night, love, move at your own pace. Use me as your plaything,” he adds with a smirk.

You lick your lips and try to ignore his word choice for now. Inhaling deeply, you sit back on your knees and look down at his eagerly waiting cock. It's glistening from your slick and those veins bulge quite aesthetically and when you close your hand carefully around his shaft, you give them a light squeeze that causes another moan to fall from his lips.

With another reassuring look into his dark eyes, you lift yourself up and position his precum coated tip against your entrance. Watching you with heavy breaths, he gently massages your waist. Suddenly you feel a little nervous, not about doing it with him or because you think he might not fit, but because you've never been on top, you've never been in charge like this. He seems to sense your worries and reaches one of his hands up and grabs your face, gently caressing your cheek.

“You can do this,” he whispers and it's the sound of his voice that makes you start moving. “Yes, just lower yourself... slowly...” he comments and you bite your lip as you listen to him, your body doing the rest for you. He groans deeply when you feel his tip slipping past your entrance. “You're so tight...” he mutters, inhaling sharply.

You let out a moan and hold onto his shoulders with both hands after you let go of his cock as it slowly disappears inside you. You feel him moving further and further, deeper and deeper, filling you more and more, and the feeling is so new and foreign to you that you feel a deep shudder rushing through your entire body. A little whimper escapes you when you finally bury all of him inside you, and you are both impressed and terrified at the thought.

Breathing heavier, you settle on top of him, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as you try to adjust to his invasion and the sheer length and girth of him. You find him watching you equally breathlessly, his lips trembling slightly and his cheeks redder than you've ever seen them before. You lean in then and try to kiss him, but the motion causes you to move against him and you let out a wince when you feel him pushing so deep he's certainly poking something he probably shouldn't.

He doesn't seem to mind and finishes what you started as he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you closer, kissing you deeply as you let out another gasp. “Does it hurt?” he whispers into your mouth, but you shake your head.

“No, it's just... so new...” you confess and he grimaces darkly before he kisses you again. “But it feels so good...” you add and kiss the corner of his mouth as he gives you another smirk. “Having you all the way in there...” You inhale deeply and bite your lip. “Feels perfect...”

He moves his fingers into your hair and chuckles. “You just wait till we move together,” he whispers and pulls your mouth closer once more. You kiss him hungrily and wait for him to do what he just said, but he doesn't. When you lean back to look at him, he smiles. “I'm your plaything, use me however you like,” he says again, his voice low and sultry.

You chew on your tingling lips, before you grab his shoulders tighter and start leaning up on your knees, slowly raising your rear, feeling your walls clench around his length as if they don't want to part from it. He leans deeper into the couch and watches you, his hands letting go of you to rest on the back of the lumpy furniture piece. He truly lets you do all the work.

And you give your best as you keep moving up, before you move back down with a smack, coaxing a cry and a gasp out of your own throat and a deep moan out of him when he plunges back into you all the way. “Careful,” you hear him whisper with a smirk. “Ease into it,” he tells you and you nod, repeating the motion but a little more deliberate as you move back down on him.

Slowly you find your rhythm and he even starts assisting you as he puts his hands on your waist after all and guides you up and down. Your breaths are shallow and you feel your legs shaking under the exertion, but you keep going, your eyes on his face the entire time. His gaze is just as dark as yours. “Tell me... how it feels,” you whisper in between issuing moan after moan.

He exhales loudly through his nose as he smiles darkly at you. “Amazing,” he groans quietly. “You're so warm and tight... and how deep you can take me feels incredible...” His voice helps you in moving slightly faster now as you feel your insides tightening around him greedily. “Oh yes, you move those hips, love,” he breathes. “Just like that... you really are a natural...”

You bite your lip and move your hand to grab the back of his neck as you place your other hand on his chest, riding him faster and harder with every rapid heartbeat. The slapping of skin against skin and the squeaking of the old couch echo in your ears and fuel your desire to do anything to get that extra bit of friction, that extra scratch you need so badly as you grind your hips, feeling him stretching your walls and moving against those sweet spots. You moan louder and for once you don't care who can hear you.

All you care about is your pleasure and it feels so good and refreshing to have someone allow you to chase it. Even though he seems to really struggle beneath you, his fingers digging into your skin almost painfully as he grunts and groans while you moan and whimper. “Are... are you... close?” you ask, your voice strained and shaking from your continuous motions as you move your entire body against him.

He lets out a deeper grunt and you see him squeeze his eyes shut. “You... first...” is all he utters. You lean closer then, your arms wrapping around his neck as you press your chest against his. Your lips brush over his as you start moving your rear up and down as fast as you can, really leaning into it, and you hear him groan louder and faster as he too wraps his arms around you and holds you close.

You almost lose it right there and then when he starts pushing his hips upwards against you, mirroring your movements and doubling the sensation. Moaning right into his ear as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, you feel your walls clenching more and more despite the rapid movement of his cock sliding in and out of you as he fucks you open relentlessly. Your whimpers grow louder and you cling onto him as if your life depended on it.

“Please,” you hear him whisper hoarsely. “Come for me...”

You move faster, the heat almost unbearable now, and as you hold onto him and he holds onto you, you feel your muscles contracting, your insides convulsing, that sweet tension building and building, and when it finally burst into an explosion of tiny little lights, you cry out loudly, arching your back and sinking your fingernails into his shirt, gasping for air, before you collapse against him, breathlessly and spent, your limbs twitching and your heart ready to jump out of your chest.

Yet he keeps moving his hips against you even faster, the sound of your bodies connecting an obscenely wet one, the couch creaks beneath you, and his groans become louder and louder, until he shudders against you, his arms tightening around you to the point where you can barely breathe, and when he pushes your body hard onto his lap, burying his entire length as deeply as possible, he grunts and stills his movements, and you feel him twitching inside you, before something warm and wet fills you up as he mindlessly pumps his load into you.

You whimper softly as you lean against him, completely exhausted and yet so satisfied like you have never felt before. For a moment, none of you move, it's only the last tremors of your orgasms causing your limbs to twitch occasionally, before you hear him breathing heavily into your neck as he pushes his lips against your damp skin and kisses it lazily. “You're amazing...” he hums and you shudder deeply at the sound and sensation. “That was... amazing...”

You move your shaking fingers into his hair and gently caress his scalp, your breaths still shallow but not as frantic any more. “You... too...” you whisper quietly. “Thank you...”

He chuckles softly at that, his voice hoarse and strained as he speaks. “No, thank you. It really is the best feeling, you know?” He shifts beneath you and you gasp softly as he pushes his hips upwards once more. “Can you feel it? How warm and cosy it feels?” You nod your head, hoping he'll notice it. “I almost want to stay like that forever,” he continues quietly, his breath ghosting your ear, causing goosebumps to ripple over your heated skin. “You're the perfect fit...”

You breathe against him, fighting the thoughts pushing through your cloudy mind. Before you can help it, you feel a tear dropping from your lashes and a sob falling from your lips.

“Are you alright?” he asks immediately, loosening his grip on your body, but you keep clinging onto him, not wanting to face him right now. “Does it hurt? Shall I pull out?”

“No,” you say firmly. “I'm okay, don't move...” You feel him rubbing your back soothingly, his touch warm and comforting, and yet it causes more tears to roll down your cheeks. “I wish we --”

Suddenly he presses his lips against your ear, his breath hot on your skin and his voice vibrating through your head so intensely, it stops any ongoing thoughts instantly. “Please break up with him,” he whispers.

It's these words and his low voice and the need behind it that makes you lean back eventually. Ignoring the slight jab of pain as you shift on top of him, you look at him and his face is as flushed as yours feels. His eyes are dark, yet pleading, his lips parted and trembling. You reach out a hand to caress his cheek and push a wild strand of his messy hair out of his forehead, before you lean in and gently press your lips to his.

You'd be a fool if you'd ignore his request now. It wasn't just the amazing sex and all those moments before, it was the promise behind his words to treat you like this for as long as you'd let him. And how could you ever say no to those puppy-dog eyes? You chuckle at the thought and lean back, meeting his puzzled gaze. “I will,” you then tell him, as simple as that, and his reaction couldn't warm your heart more.

The smile spreads over his entire face, making those dimples pop and his eyes sparkle, and then he wraps his arms tighter around you, pulls you against him once more and kisses the side of your face with a happy chuckle. You laugh against him, relishing the warmth that courses through your entire body. And you know from that moment forwards that you need him to come inside you every blasted time.

Because it truly is the best feeling.

End notes: Breeding kink activated! He's converted another one!

And speaking of kink: that voice kink, right? Confession time: I cannot stop listening to Sebastian saying "forgotten", the way he pronounces that word is just *chef's kiss* to me! (I have it bookmarked, see link above... And even though it's the scene where he's angry with us, I cannot help but melt away at the sound of it XD)

On another note: With Kinktober over, what are we calling November? Because uh, no, I will not participate in No-Nut-November, excuse me? Our boy can't handle that! So Smutvember? Lovember?

While I wrote this I was imagining who that useless but sweet boyfriend would be - and while I have some ideas, I'd like to hear yours! Who do you think would be a great guy to talk to, but would be utterly useless in bed?

MASTERLIST - KINKTOBER - AO3

[undercover-smutlover]

Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley…💀

main masterlist📌

*·˚Don’t forget to reblog, follow, like, and comment on the authors’ or artists’ pages. Show them some love!

*·˚Broken link or @? Pop a note in the comments or my ask box.

Works by @ghostsareeverywhereblah2

Guard Dogs Pt.1: “He’s even cuter in person”

Guard Dogs Pt.2: “She’s always listened, just not to you”

The Progeny Series: “Shit, Lt. Looks like you actually have a real admirer”

Grumpy x Sunshine: Who in the world can be in a relationship with Simon?

Works by @lethalchiralium

Delicate + König: You were glad you had them both, satisfying your needs

Raindrops: He’s trying to remember every moment

Works by @ghosts-cyphera

Bloodied Bullets, Soft Confessions: “I guess I’d been lucky so far.”

Pornstar Ghost:  All genuine, from both of you

Works by @yawnderu

Adoration: while he holds you closer, thinking of more jokes he read online just to tell you

Lorelei: ''She's looking at you like she knows you.'' Your response is ominous to say the least

K-9: He took that chance to look at you, to truly admire you

Works by @peachesofteal

Dead Disco: The one that’s always left behind

Light On: Simon has a new neighbor

Works by @lvrxly

Singledad!Ghost: "Eh, I kinda like your son more than you, he's less broody," You tease

An Odd Feeling:

Works by @chaosandmarigolds

Among the Bullets Ch.1 Pt.1, Ch.1 Pt.2, Ch.2 Pt.1 , Ch.2 Pt.2: “Adrenaline makes the body do some pretty insane things, sir.”

Pre-K Universe

Three Is A Crowd by @xyziiix: Well your Captain always like proving you wrong

Cherry by @barefoothighlander: Ghost finds out about your side gig

The Captain by @as-is-above-so-below: Ghost’s wife joins the team on an op agaisnt his wishes

Bleeding Out Pt.1, Bleeding Out Pt.2 and Bleeding Out Pt.3 by @constantcrisis19: A bomb almost levels the entire town. Ghost extracts you.

Oneshots & Multichapter and Price’s Birthday by @rileyslibrary: An entire collection of Simon Riley oneshots

The Things I Never Said Pt.1 and The Things I Never Said Pt.2 by @lvlyghost: When the inevitable happens, you run

Ghost in the Austrian Asylum by @prazinos: The two of you want him as well

Painless Bruises by @trashykawahq: Avoiding Simon’s gaze is harder than it’s ever been

The Experiments by @diaryofanidiot: Forced to fight and claw her way to live

Resentment by @starl1cht: You distance yourself. But does he notice?

The Accused by @amoristt: You fucking ran. What choice did you have?

Badges of Honor by @clairdelunelove: Ghost always recieves the biggest stickers

King!Ghost x Princess!Reader by @hyperactively-me: Stubborn Princess who warms up to the King

Ghost x Civillian Masterlist by @sim0nril3y: How he met his civillian and fell in love

Sole Survivor by @halcyone-of-the-sea: “Who’s the guy with the mohawk?”

The Twins by @princessdimondheart: He saw his own eyes

How many fingers am I holding up by @sprout-fics: “Don’t hate me for this, Si.” You think weakly

Lime-Sized by @imperihoe-writes: Sighing happily, she wiggled a bit deeper into his embrace

Bodyguard!Simon x Popstar!Reader by @xo-cod: Simon looks on in pride

Phantom Frost Line by @diejager: You’re a new face, unknown to Ghost and he isn’t too keen about the news

Nothing’s New by @thewriterg: He held you like he always will and as he always had

Unmasked Love by @springtyme: she turns her head to look over at you with an excited expression on her little face

My Baby Swinging by @tojisun: Simon and his pretty little sweetheart’s adventures

Welcome Home by @babygirl-riley: but when she was around wow, he would make sure everyone knew who she was

Odds On by @bits-and-babs: The smirk that had been threatening to break finally cracks across your lips at the confirmation of your victory

Digging Gaze by @halcyone-of-the-sea: But he was afraid, as well. Terrified

His Heart, His Light, His World by @thexsilentxwordsmith: "You deserve it all, Simon. Every once of it."

Unexpected by @dammn-dean: Simon felt a pang of something up his spine, similar to jealousy but close to disappointment in himself.

If Only You Would Have Trusted Me by @ltghosty: That was the only thing that helped you come to peace with the things you were forced to do in order to protect your family.

Husband!Simon by @ahqkas: he didn’t hesitate to scoop the smiling baby up into his arms

Glory Days by @sstormyskyesss: If you weren't focused on calculating the best strategy out of this particular setback, you’d be able to see the stars in Simon’s eyes

Simon Riley Collection by @starstruckmiraclekitty:

Cure For Me [zombie!ghost] by @groguspicklejar:

Who Wants to Live Forever by @writeforfandoms: Then his lips twitched. “Took you long enough.” 

Vegas Wedding by @ceilidho: When he stretches an arm up to scratch his upper back, you almost whimper at the way his arm bulges. 

Secret Haven by @lightwing-s: and the moment his eyes caught yours you could clearly understand his message.

Lovely by @daisies-daydreams: “Even though this isn’t on my finger while I’m at work, I’ll always act like it is,” you reassured him

Homeward Bound AU by @writeforfandoms: You spared a brief thought of thanks that your mother had taught you everything about this job. 

Firefighter!Simon Riley by @thelaisydazy: He loves the ones handed over the counter by the cute worker that smiles at him and fusses over the dog every morning.

Simon’s Favorite Hair by @lovifie: And in that moment, with your hair still in his hand, he knew he was in trouble.

Smells Like Team Spirit by @tulipsbymybed: Star lacrosse player for his university, pretending, his roommate, is his girlfriend

Coffee Shop by @sinkovia: His life was good, and he couldn't ask for more

The Next of Kin by @soapybutt17: Many eyes had lingered on you when they heard your last name

Nurse by @jayybugg: Ghost stayed silent. His eyes stay trained on you, no words or sounds coming from him.

Gold Rush by @midnightarcheress

Soft Spot by @cordeliawhohung

Training for Two Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.5, ... by @writersdrug

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[lunarw0rks]

hear me out 🙃 riding soap for the first time

☾𓂃❛🍰❜┊ riding soap for the first time

warning(s): explicit content (18+), smut, p^rn w/ little plot, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breath play, established relationship, fem!reader, no use of y/n ♡ masterlist // requests // ask box

a/n: scotland foreverrrr!!!! (i live in delulu-land 24/7 and probably need meds)

johnny was good in bed; so satisfactorily it was almost infuriating. he had you wrapped around his fingers, yearning for him whenever the time was right — and he knew it.

despite all the dirty-mindedness he possessed, or his alarmingly high sex drive. he could be tender, observant to a fault — especially when intimacy was involved.

classic missionary was typically the way to go with him, and honestly, you were satisfied enough to forget about all the other positions that needed trying. typically you were rid of your clothes before the idea even arose, and soap was not going to turn down sex, no matter the location or position he found himself at the end.

currently, you found yourself laying between his legs, the back of your head against his lap as his legs caged you in. ❝almost done,❞ you said, pulling the needle through the other side of his blue shirt, in the midst of patching a tear. could he have bought a new one? ten new ones? yes, but then he would miss the opportunity to watch you with a needle between your lips.

you brought the end of the thread to your mouth as you turned around and made eye contact, using your teeth as scissors. ❝will this be alright for work?❞ you held up the section that once had a rip, a genuine question about your sewing skills.

his lips contorted into a satisfied purse, then he grabbed the shirt and set it down on the neighboring table. ❝think we're done with that, eh?❞ he couldn't care less about how his shirt looked, or anything else for that matter. you had unknowingly aroused him; a seemingly common theme whenever he was home... or, anywhere really.

you recognized the familiar glaze that clouded his vision, a nearly primal look as he motioned for you to come closer. climbing into his lap to make out wasn't new, by any means. what was? how he hadn't cupped your waist and flipped the position so he could hover. instead, the heated kissing merely progressed with you straddling him the entire time.

it was new, but not a discomfiting bind to be in. his hardened bulge, pressing against your inner thigh through his sweatpants. when he removed his lips for air, your foreheads remained pressed together as he flashed a pleased smile.

his hands cupped your waist as you pulled down his sweats and boxer simultaneously, exposing his erection under the dim lighting of the master bedroom. soap's mouth remained slightly agape as you sank your weight back on his lap, clothed heat pressed against him with just enough pressure to make the sensitivity agonizing.

he showed no sign of wanting to move. he wanted you on top of him, just like this. ❝you want me to...? you sure?❞ you whispered as you furrowed your brows. it seemed strange, how many times you two had sex, but never once had you rode him.

your look of uncertainty couldn't be hidden, even if you were the type to possess a poker face. not while his eyes were glued to you and your body.

❝aye, i do. it's better this way, bonnie.❞ he gave your hips a firm squeeze, a sly smirk now forming on his lips. in this position, nearly every part of you was on display for the taking.

well, how could you say no when he looked as if he could devour you whole? and by now, despite only kissing him, you had a familiar tension forming between your legs, too. you shifted around until you had rid yourself of your pajama bottoms, then you found the panties you were wearing, pulling them to the side until you exposed enough of your core to sink onto his length.

soap let out a guttural groan as you eased yourself onto him until you had swallowed his cock entirely. he wanted to let you fend for yourself for a bit until he couldn't fight the urge to take over again. you did only what you were familiar with, grinding your hips the same way you did when you would dry-hump him.

❝look at you, lass, taking all of me so well.❞ whatever you were doing, you had to be doing it decently. each rock of your hips got more desperate, as if the need to release became more important than how you looked, or even how you were performing.

the hands palming your hips slithered higher; one cupping your clothed breast, the other finding the base of your neck, giving it a tender squeeze. each time you ground, he would squeeze, then release again. it was a methodical constriction of your airflow, only he followed each unsteady movement you made, even when you would slow or hesitate. it wasn't enough to make you see spots, just enough to keep you secure.

his fingertips burned with each tightening, the breath control only urging the both of you to that edge. you gathered enough momentum to increase the pace a bit, constricting his waist with your thighs. what once was him sitting up, was now him flat on his back, only anchoring his hips up to clash with each descension of your needy core.

once your whimpers had grown loud enough, once you had gotten sloppy, he was satisfied with watching you. by now, he was just as close to his climax, with much less self-control. from your breast and neck, he gripped your hips now, pushing you down onto his cock at his desired pace — a snappy one.

he was pushing you down deeper than you could've done yourself, a quick, harsh push repeatedly. soap's eyes clenched shut as he felt you pulse around him, seconds off from finishing.

johnny let out a hiss as he opened his eyes again, needing to watch you come undone. when you began to shake and lose your balance, he sat up again for you to loop your arms around him, still a defeating bounce on his length. ❝christ, hen, you're shakin' already... go on, finish for me.❞ his hushed praise was enough to make your core tense its grip, plunging you deep into a momentous climax. one that came quicker than ever before, with the exception of when he used his tongue on you.

he seized your chin, groaning against your open mouth as he finished. soap was rarely vocal when he climaxed, but that didn't make it any less attractive to watch him fall apart. based on his starstruck appearance, he had gandered a new favorite position.

it wasn't until his upward thrusts had slowed, that he spoke again, ❝don't give me those eyes, love. ye ken i can't resist the ride of a lifetime.❞

[ebonysolcum]

Finally got around to doing an actual pencil and paper drawing of our lovely Captain Janeway.

I’m not entirely satisfied with how it turned out, but it’s growing on me. I guess I got too used to drawing on the iPad. The lack of control was distressing. Lol. Also, I chose this reference photo and did the rough sketch well over a year ago. Having drawn her face over a dozen times now, I probably would have chosen a different picture. The lighting was a little eh on this one.

[boa-h]

【Shabana Gyutaro】 January Snow

*i don’t think they had guns back then but let’s just pretend they do

“I still firmly believe— that you’re out there somewhere in this world, waiting for me, as young as you were, as loving as you were.”

Perhaps not many people would believe this, the fact that Shabana Gyutaro has also experienced love in his teenage years of life. A monster like him, a freak, how could he have possibly fallen in love? It’s ridiculous no matter how he thinks of it.

It was the first snow of the year when he met you. The color white dyed the entire town and the snow produced a satisfying crunching sound whenever he stepped on it with his bare feet, snowflakes fell from the sky and he had almost mistaken it for rain. Sudden footsteps appeared behind him and he spun around, sickle pointing at whoever dared to approach him, only to find a girl a head shorter standing there, panting, with a pink fur coat in her hands. He guessed that it was yours.

“Uhm...” You started, “I saw you walking by just now, I noticed that you didn’t have a coat, so please, take this.” You handed your coat to him, “You must be cold.”

Ignoring his dry skin that cracked and turned red due to the weather, and his fingers and legs that slowly turned stiff, “Don’t need it.” He scowled. Are you trying to pity him? You wealthy little girl who has multiple coats, each a different color.

Maybe you’ve never talked to anyone as ugly as him before, or maybe you’re just cold as well, your hands shook and tears swirled in your pretty eyes, “N-no, I insist, I can’t bear walking back home still with the coat I was supposed to give you. Take it, if it makes you feel better then return it when winter ends, you will not owe me anything.” You shoved the coat into his hands and ran as fast as you could back into your yard, tripped by the thick snow multiple times.

Gyutaro watched as you hurried back home, he looked back at the coat in his hands and he wanted to tear it apart and throw it on the ground and stomp it until it was nothing but pieces of dirty and useless cloth. But gosh, it’s so warm, to the point where he doesn’t even want to let go.

The second time he saw you, you were just passing by the street with your maid when he dragged one of his victims out of the brothel he was in. Gyutaro flung the man onto the hard earth and pointed his weapon at the victim’s throat. Murmurs were heard throughout the street yet they only made Gyutaro’s smile bigger.

“Now, pay up.” He taunted.

When the gold coins clinked in Gyutaro’s hands and when the man hurriedly scrambled away, he turned around, meeting your eyes. One of your hands covered your mouth and the other clung onto your maid’s sleeves, his surprised expression turned into a frown, and then his lips curved upwards again as he walked to you. Your maid tried to block him but one simple shove from him made her lose balance. You took a step back and he giggled. See, even you’re afraid of him, just like everyone else.

“Got something to say to me? Miss.” He was dangerously close to the point you can feel the heat radiating from his slim body. You looked everywhere but his eyes trying to think of something, would he be mad if you just simply shook your head?

Maggot, dimwit, idiot, good-for-nothing, useless, disgrace, freak, monster. He imagined everything you could call him, hitting him with dirt and rocks on the floor, tripping over your own feet, and then begging for mercy when he decides to kill you.

…

Too long.

You were taking too long.

“Come on, come on! Say something, man, you’re taking too damn long!” He raised his voice, scratching his neck in frustration.

“Um!” Startled, you blurted out the first thing in your mind, “You’re not wearing the coat I gave you, please wear it, it’s still very cold outside!” Immediately lowering your head, embarrassed of what just came out of your mouth. Gyutaro stared at you, wide-eyed, mouth agape.

“Don’t give me that crap…” He muttered.

“Eh–?”

“I said don’t give me that crap!!” He shouted, raising his sickle, accidentally slicing across your cheek, blood oozed out of the small yet deep cut instantly, “You say those things like you actually care! I hate people like you, I bet you think you’re the nicest person in this whole world, huh?! I bet it’s nice to have a nice house with maids to look after you, niiiice for you, mannn, niiice for youu… a person like you doesn't have to bring warmth to someone like me, and I don’t need your pity either. Go kill yourself.” His words were like fangs coated with venom, tears flowed down your cheeks and mixed in with the crimson blood that has yet to be stopped. Your hands pressed onto your wound, it hurts. It hurts.

Gyutaro stared at the direction you ran off to, all he could hear was your muffled sobbing and it made him want to tear his ears off. He hates the way you cry, it makes him frustrated and when he’s frustrated he can’t stop scratching himself, until his skin gets stuck under his dirty fingernails, until the tip of his fingers are dyed red.

And then he never saw you again until spring came. Gyutaro always walks back to that place he called home and then pass by your house, and everytime he tries to look through the windows he sees nothing. Not you, not your maids, not your parents, no one. When winter ended, he stood on your front porch, holding your poorly washed pink furry coat in his hands that were red and numb from being in the cold water stream for too long. His hand was raised, ready to knock on the door any second, yet he paused, hesitating like a teenage boy who had just fallen in love. He stayed in his position for at least 15 minutes, his forearm cold like a corpse as his blood struggled to flow in his raised arm. Until the door opened.

You stood there as beautiful as you were a few months ago, the cut he accidentally gave you remained as a scar on your skin. You looked up at him, surprised by his presence, yet remained quiet, waiting patiently for him to say something.

“I… I came back to give back your coat.” He said, dryly, handing over your coat.

“... Thank you for returning it.” You bowed your head as thanks.

Gyutaro watched as your delicate hands reached for the coat that looks like it’s been used everyday for years, and then suddenly he no longer wants to give back your coat. Someone like you touching something that has been used by him seems terrifying, like a drop of ink in a glass of milk. It was a sin— a sin greater than anything else.

He clung onto the coat until he realized that he was clutching onto it, hesitantly, he released his grip. He watched as you passed the coat to your maid, who then took it inside the house.

Gyutaro awkwardly stood in front of you, staring at your peaceful smiling face in silence. Awkwardness took over the air, for him at least.

“Come in and have some tea.” You broke the silence, offering a cup of tea in gratitude for him giving back the coat.

Gyutaro froze in place. Go inside and have tea? What kind of sick joke… You can’t have someone like him dirting your floors, especially after giving you that nasty cut, or what he thought was a nasty cut, on a pretty face like yours. “No- no, I’m good, man. My sister’s waiting for me to go back home. Maybe some other day.” He says.

“Okay.” You said, smiling calmly as always, and Gyutaro’s hand rose up to his nape, scratching it in a kind of frustration he can’t even find.

And there he unintentionally created another chance to see you again. Until the long summer days finally came to an end, and winter passed halfway.

“Hey, Gyutaro-kun! Let’s go to the New Years Festival today! Bring Ume-chan with you, please?” You called his name like you always did, asking him to accompany you wherever you go.

“Sure.” He grumbled, different from when you first knew him, different from denial and rejection.

Colorful fireworks exploded into the night sky, creating a beautiful contrast. It was truly the happiest moment of your life, welcoming the new year with good friends, not worrying about a thing in this world, about your parents who never come back home.

But happiness doesn't last. A sound that sounded like fireworks came from the crowd, a person dropped down onto the floor, a crimson red pooled beneath him, and the people around him screamed.

“Someone’s dead!”

“Help!”

“Who did that!?What’s happening!?”

And then everything else was a blur. People were running in all directions as more gunshots went off, and fires started to spread from all the knocked over food stalls. More and more people ended up dead on the floor, and people stepped over anything and everything to escape.

“We have to go!” Gyutaro called your name while holding onto Ume. As he finally got a grasp on your wrist, someone collapsed onto the hem of your kimono.

No way… Why now!?

You panicked and tried to yank out your kimono but your feet already took their steps. Tripping over, someone stepped directly onto your back, knocking the air out of you, before the wooden support post of a nearby food stall collapsed right on top of your lower body. You cried in pain.

“Hurry! Get up!” Gyutaro screamed, yanking you with his hands before trying to lift up the support post.

“I… I can’t…!” Tears pooled in your eyes, “Don’t worry about me, just go. Go back with Ume. I’ll be okay, someone will come soon, to help, I’ll be fine.” You shoved on his hand, “Come back later when you get Ume home, I’ll be fine.”

Gyutaro opened his mouth as if to protest, but watching all the chaos going on, and your pleading eyes. “Okay, wait for me, I’ll be back soon.” Slowly, he let go of your hand, and that was the last time he ever touched your warm hands.

You muffled your sobs with your kimono sleeves as you watched him disappear into the chaos with Ume.

No, don’t leave. It hurts. Don’t leave me alone. Help me. Don’t leave me.

White snow started falling from the sky and the fires died down. Tears dried on your face and your vision started to blur. The snow fell on your body like a white blanket as if the sky was mourning for you.

When Gyutaro returned, all he could find was your already cold and stiff body, his hands shook with fear as they reached for yours. Your empty eyes that were still opened stared into his, cut and bruises littered over your body yet you were still as beautiful as always. His hand gently covered your eyes and brought your eyelids down.

“Didn’t you say you were going to be alright?”

Gyutaro gritted his teeth and his eyes were bloodshot with anger and sadness. His sickle that he brought with him cut down the wooden support post, and he carried your body out and slowly brought you back home. He watched helplessly as your maids cried over your body, and suddenly he wanted to cry too.

He wasn’t there at your funeral. He was scared, afraid. Afraid of those hollow eyes that stared into his, as if your death was all on him, as if you were blaming him for everything that happened.

“She wouldn’t do that.” Ume immediately opposed his thoughts. “She’s the nicest person I’ve ever met! If she didn’t die, she would’ve married you. If you think she hates you, then you’re just speaking ill of her.” Tears pooled in her eyes as she cried to defend you with everything she’s got.

Gyutaro looked down at the tattered and molded tatami he’s sitting on. “I wish I married her.” He simply stated.

Even after becoming a demon and losing all his memories, he always knew that there were once someone in this world who loved him. Even when his head got cut off, he still firmly believes, that you’re still out there somewhere in this world, waiting for him, as young as you were, as loving as you were.

And the next time he opened his eyes, you were right there.

[euno11a]

Whenever you read this but, since your ask button wrote that I'm horny and i needn't be shy about it, then I think I'll request a smut ;)

Massager! Jk × fem! Reader, something like that?? Where oc gets a message after a long week but the spa she's at is freaky and gets people naked before the massage,,, and the massagers too are always naked while giving the message👀👀 and obv they end up doing things not allowed but eh, who cares😁😁

Anyways, this might be a lil weird (cause I'm weird) but just frame it according to you I'll be happy with anything 😁😁

babes, I’m here to fulfill your nasty ass fantasies if you need some sexy masseuse action, imma give it to you 🤭🤭

The week had been long and tiring for you, an ambitious and hardworking woman . You had been putting in long hours at the office, barely taking breaks to eat or rest. As a result, your body was sore and tense, and you could feel the stress weighing down on you. Desperately in need of some relaxation and rejuvenation, you decided to treat yourself to a massage at a nearby spa.

Little did you know, this massage would be unlike any you had experienced before.

As you entered the spa, you were greeted by a serene and tranquil atmosphere. The faint scent of essential oils filled the air, and soft music played in the background. The receptionist handed you a robe and instructed you to change into it before heading to the massage room.

Feeling excited and anticipating the soothing touch of a professional masseuse, you quickly changed into the robe and made your way to the massage room. However, as you entered the room, your eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

“The masseuses were all naked!”

You couldn't believe your eyes. You had heard of unconventional massage methods, but this was something else entirely. You were about to turn and leave when one of the masseuses, a stunningly handsome and muscular man, approached you with a warm smile.

'Welcome to our spa, Y/N. I'm Jungkook, and I'll be your masseuse today. Please, have a seat on the massage table, and we will begin shortly,' he said, gesturing towards the table.

Feeling a bit flustered, you hesitantly climbed onto the table, trying to avoid looking at the naked masseuses. However, as he began to massage you, you couldn't help but notice how skilled and talented he was. The tension in your muscles slowly dissipated, and you began to relax under Jungkook’s touch.

As the massage progressed, you couldn't help but let out a few moans of pleasure. Jungkook’s hands were working wonders on your sore body, and you couldn't believe how good it felt. But as the massage continued, you couldn't ignore the growing arousal you felt.

His hands were now roaming over your body, and the touch was becoming more sensual and intimate. You could feel yourself getting wet, and you knew you should stop this before it went any further, but you couldn't bring herself to do it.

Before you knew it, Jungkook’s lips were on hers, and your tongues were dancing in a passionate kiss. You couldn't resist any longer and gave in to your desires, letting JK explore your body in ways you had never experienced before.

As you continued to kiss and touch each other, you could feel the tension building up inside of you. Jungkook’s skilled fingers were now circling your clit, and you could feel your release approaching.

'Let go, Y/N. Let me make you come,' Jungkook whispered in your ear.

And with those words, your pussy clenched, body shaking with pleasure. You couldn't believe what had just happened, but you didn't care. All you wanted was more.

Jungkook, sensing your desire, continued to kiss and finger you until you couldn't take it anymore. You both collapsed on the massage table, panting and sweaty, but satisfied.

Laying there, catching your breath, you couldn't believe what had just happened. You had just had one of the most intense and pleasurable experiences of your life, and it was all thanks to this unconventional spa.

As you got dressed and left the spa, you couldn't help but think about how crazy and erotic your massage had been. And although it may not have been allowed, you couldn't wait to come back for more.

For my horny fellows

[rip-quizilla]

Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 3

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: For some reason, when Eddie's around you, he doesn't feel like a piece of shit- he's really starting to like that about you. Your feelings for Eddie are growing past 'friendship' feelings, but you sure as hell aren't telling Eddie that. Robin is perceptive as hell.

Word Count: 4.9k

Tags for Entire Fic (from AO3): Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Inspired by When Harry Met Sally (1989), Slow Burn, Romantic Fluff, Good Friend Robin Buckley, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Eddie Munson Lives, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, no one dies, Reader-Insert, Eventual Smut

Part 1 | Part 2

Part 3

Spring, 1983

“How on earth are you failing shop?”

Your voice landed in the thick quiet of Eddie’s van halfway between a question and a laugh, and Eddie could feel a blush creeping up his neck as he tried to laugh it off. 

“Eh, I failed a project way back where I was supposed to make this birdhouse or something and I never turned it in…”

He didn’t miss the concern in your voice when you replied, “And you never thought to just ask for an extension? Did you at least start it?”

Eddie’s silence spoke volumes.

“Eddie!” you shoved him lightly on the shoulder, and he winced. Not from pain, you’d barely shoved at all- he winced out of embarrassment. 

You were smart. He didn’t need to look at your report card to know someone like you had never failed a class as simple as shop before. By all means, it should have been an easy A; Mr. McCarthy didn’t grade based on skill, his projects were easy to ace as long as you followed the rubric. The hard part was that Eddie was a serial procrastinator, especially when it came to projects. He’d kept telling himself that he would start the project later, start it tomorrow, start it this weekend, etc. Now here he was, a month after it was due, and a month before the school year ended- still no project, and no amount of minor assignments would help him to regain a passing grade in that class.

“It’s no big deal, they can’t make me repeat the year just because I failed an elective class. I’ll just take another elective credit next year instead of a study hall-”

“Eddie!”

The tone of your voice surprised him, firm and all-business, almost like a reprimand. He glanced at you sheepishly. “What?”

He wasn’t sure why he’d expected you to be angry with him. Perhaps Eddie had grown so used to getting lectured by those that mattered to him that the idea of you doing the same wasn’t that much of a stretch. But when Eddie saw your expression, it wasn’t one of anger, but confusion.

“Do you hear yourself?” You asked. Your voice was firm, leaving no room for any argument. “It’s like you’ve already given up and you still have a whole month before junior year ends.”

Eddie shook his head. “The project was due in March, there’s no way McCarthy would let me turn it in this late-”

“Have you asked?”

Another silence, equally telling as the last. 

You turned your attention to the street ahead, arms crossed over your chest and a satisfied look on your face. “Well, you’re going to ask him Monday if he’d accept your birdhouse late.”

Eddie barked out a laugh. “Oh that’s what I’m gonna do, huh?” 

You nodded, smiling smugly. “Mm-hm!”

“And then I’m going to build a birdhouse?” 

“You are, and I’m going to help you.”

That, Eddie hadn’t expected. “You’re gonna… what?” 

You smiled at him, pulling your backpack up into your lap and hugging it to your middle. Eddie remembered you doing that last week too; he wondered if that was something you did subconsciously, always needing something to hug against yourself to feel comfort in some way. “I’m going to help you. My dad has some tools and scrap wood in the shed out behind our house, so we can go there if you want. Either way, I am not letting you fail shop class unless you did every possible thing you could have to pass.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say. His friends were always happy to help him with homework, even let him copy off of them from time to time- but this? He felt a bit overwhelmed at your eagerness, borderline pushiness, to help him.

“You really don’t need to go through the trouble-”

You gave him a stern look that sent his eyes straight back to the road ahead. “Munson, if you try to get out of building a damn birdhouse I swear I’m changing the radio station to whatever popular girly crap is playing right now.” 

Eddie shut his mouth, button eyes blown wide. “Understood, yes ma’am.” 

He pretended that the thumping of his overzealous heart was just the heavy bass from the radio.

***

To Eddie’s surprise- and your satisfaction- Mr. McCarthy agreed to grant Eddie an extension. If he was able to present a finished birdhouse by the end of the school year, Eddie could receive credit for it with an automatic ten point deduction for being tardy. You thought ten points was generous of him, and while Eddie secretly agreed, he wasn’t about to criticize the hand that fed him. 

So, per your request (which Eddie could tell was non-negotiable, so not much of a request, really) Eddie stayed with you after school while you tutored some freshman in preparation for their English Lit final and drove you back to your house when you were done. This time, however, he went inside with you to begin construction on the birdhouse that would (hopefully) save his grade.

Your dad had been more than happy to help Eddie with figuring out how big to cut each of the wood pieces, teaching him to measure twice, cut once, blah blah blah. All of that adorable fatherly stuff. It was very cute for you to watch- your dad, who had initially been less smiley, a bit more taciturn than usual because his daughter was bringing a boy by the house to work on a project and he’d been intent on snuffing out any ill-intentions towards you, instantly falling back into his everyday, effortlessly smiley exterior the moment Eddie told him that his woodworking hobby was “actually really cool”. 

Something about Eddie seemed to do that to people- he melted away the person you projected, leaving behind the person you were at your core. You could see it so clearly on your dad’s face as the two of them sketched out lines on a piece of scrap wood. Eddie marked one piece with a little cartoonish-looking skull, and when your dad saw it he asked Eddie if he likes to draw- and then the conversation simply flowed from there easily. You couldn’t wipe the sappy smile from your face. 

Your dad stayed to advise until he could tell that Eddie had a good grasp on how to use the tools at his disposal, and jokingly made sure Eddie knew you were the one in charge whenever the two of you were left to your own devices. Eddie had responded with a mockingly serious salute, which only made your dad smile wider. 

“He likes you.” you’d said once you were sure your dad was out of earshot. 

Eddie huffed out an embarrassed chuckle, eyes staying focused on his work while the corner of his mouth quirked up in a sardonic smile. “Yeah, well, he probably just hasn’t heard much about me then.”

You studied him, half amused and half pained that he was once again refusing to take a compliment of his character. Turning your attention to the tiny wooden dowel you intended to turn into a perch for the birdhouse, you continued. “Oh he’s heard about you. Just, everything he’s heard, he heard from me. So no, no bad things.”

That got Eddie’s attention. “Really?” he asked incredulously, looking at you with one eyebrow raised. “No bad things? Not a single one?”

“Nope, no bad things. He’s heard annoying things, though. Infuriating things. I told him to warn the HOA about you.”

“Oh, did you now?”

“Scouts’ honor, we have a certain standard to uphold around here, you know.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

Twin smiles played on your lips, evidence for the joy it brought both of you to be around each other. You both worked wordlessly, letting the sounds of sandpaper and sharp tools on wood fill the pleasantly warm air in the shed. 

“What about you?”

His vague question earned a glance from your direction. “What about me?” you asked.

“Well, if I’m so infuriating and annoying, why do you care so much about whether or not I pass this class?” Eddie’s sentence trailed off into a breathy, nearly imperceptible tremor that told you he cared about your answer. 

“You might be infuriating and annoying,” you said, matter-of-fact, “but you’re smart. Way too smart to fail shop because of something as stupid as a missing grade.”

Eddie was quick to brush off your compliment. “You know some might say that missing a due date is something only a stupid person would do,” he looked up at you with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. “so I would argue that that alone makes me-”

“Eddie, stop.”

His lips clamped shut. 

You placed the wooden pieces in your hands down on the floor before walking up to him and stopping about a foot from where he sat. Your eyebrows were drawn together menacingly, your arms were crossed over your chest, and your tone reminded Eddie of what it must be like to be in trouble with Mom.

“Look Munson,” you began sharply, “You are a very intelligent person. I am not saying that to flatter you because I couldn’t care less about giving you empty compliments or not. I’m just stating a fact: you are smart.” 

His gaze was trained on the floor, unsure what to do with himself. Brown eyes flicked up to yours through his dark chocolate curls and back down again.

“And I don’t know who made you think you’re so much of a lost cause that you give up before asking for help, but I’ve never been one to watch smart people let themselves down and be okay with it.” You held out your hand palm facing upwards between your chests. “So hand me the wood glue so I can give the lucky birds who get to live in this fancy joint a little perch to stand on.”

He did what you asked, quiet and hiding behind the curtain of his mane. It wasn’t until you were back in your seat that he finally spoke up.

“You know-” 

You looked up at him, a soft smile teasing the corner of your lips, and you had to take a deep breath to calm yourself as you processed the fondness that shone in his eyes. 

“-you’re a little scary when you’re angry.” 

You snorted. “Good. Maybe I can scare you into fulfilling your potential.” 

Eddie wasn’t sure what that potential was, exactly. His life was doomed from the start to complete its natural cycle within the same hundred square miles, so he figured his potential was to… work at the power plant with Wayne? Be a bartender at The Hideout? Drink himself to death when his life got too depressing to deal with anymore? 

Okay, maybe that last one was a little too dark. But realistically, he knew that would probably cross his mind after enough time spent in this hell-hole of a town. 

Now there was a smart girl telling him he was capable of more than that, and his first instinct was to wonder if Wayne had put you up to giving him a pep talk or something… but that was way too sneaky for Wayne, so there was no way he’d asked you, which meant that you, a smart girl, truly believed that he- Eddie Munson- was a smart guy. 

Huh. 

Well how about that.

***

True to his word, Mr. McCarthy accepted Eddie’s birdhouse when he brought it to class that Friday. He chuckled when he saw the little horned devil symbol painted in the corner on the back. He peered questioningly at Eddie when he caught sight of the pentagram that had been drawn on the floor of the inside, to which Eddie had replied, “In case they want to perform any ritualistic sacrifices in there.” 

When he’d handed Eddie his graded rubric, there were minimal notes written in red, but when Eddie looked at the little blank labeled ‘total’, nothing else mattered. 

90/100

Which meant that without the ten point deduction, Eddie would have made a 100%. His work- sans tardiness- was worth a 100%. Eddie was baffled, stunned- he couldn’t remember the last time his work had been deemed worthy of a ‘100’ circled in red pen at the top of his paper since elementary school.

“I got a 90%!” 

He was practically giddy when he told you. Shop was his last class of the day, after which he had run straight to your locker to show you the rubric. You were excited for him, of course, but you hadn’t been surprised in the slightest. 

“And that brings your average in the class up to…?” You asked with a knowing smile. 

Eddie clutched the precious page to his chest, swooning as he threw his back against the locker beside yours. “72.” He sighed, content and over the moon. “You’re a miracle worker, you know that? You took this sad, pathetic, stupid little boy-” He splayed a dramatic hand over his heart. “-and you wanna know what you did?” 

You smiled wryly, closing your locker door. “Uh huh?”

His face contorted in the most joyful way possible- a smile showing every tooth, crinkling the corners of his eyes, brow scrunching from the passion with which he gripped that flimsy piece of paper and shook it in your face.

“You got him a fucking A, you genius!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as the two of you walked through the halls to the theater department for Hellfire. “You did all the work! You got yourself  that A.”

“Ah-ah-ah,” Eddie wagged his pointer finger back and forth. “No, that’s not what I said, I said it was a fucking A.”

You looked at him, confusion evident in your eyes. “Yes, that’s what I said, you got yourself that A! I barely did a thing.”

He was quiet, grinning ear to ear as he narrowed his eyes on you. “Oh… oh you sweet, sweet thing…” 

Whoa now, that gave you butterflies. 

You casually turned your eyes in the opposite direction of where Eddie walked by your side, hoping he couldn’t sense your reaction. “What?”

Eddie chuckled, positioning himself directly in your line of sight. “Don’t hide from me, come on-” You looked up begrudgingly, taking in his amused expression. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say fuck.” 

“What? That’s ridiculous, I’ve said it.”

“Not in front of me!”

“Yeah, okay, I don’t say it often.” you shrugged, eyes darting literally anywhere but his face- again. “So what? There are so many other better words I could use-”

“But can you say it?” 

At that, your eyes met his, and you made sure to sprinkle a little venom into that eye contact. “Of course I can say it, I’m just choosing not to.” 

Eddie was undeterred. “Then choose to say it just this once, I want to know what the word ‘fuck’ sounds like in your sweet little innocent voice.” His puppy dog eyes glistened as he pouted. 

You glared, smacking your hand against a door that threatened to close before you could pass through it, and angrily shoving it aside. “I am not innocent or little, thank you very much.” 

“Awwww, come on, Ace,  just one little f-bomb?” 

“No.” 

“Not even for me?”

“No!”

“Uuugghhhh,” Eddie sighed, throwing up his hands exasperatedly as the two of you approached the twin set of doors that led to the auditorium. “Fine.” He hopped ahead of you, opening one of the doors for you. “After you.” 

You should have seen it coming, but you still yelped when Eddie jabbed his fingers into a tickle spot in the curve of your waist as you walked past him. 

“FUCK! Eddie!” you practically squealed. 

You shook your head in disbelief as he skipped down the narrow aisle of seats toward the stage, throwing a fist victoriously up in the air. 

“Hahaaa, there it is!” He cackled. 

You may have acted annoyed with him, but nothing could deny the brightness in your smile seeing him overtaken with so much joy. That joy translated so easily into his storytelling during D&D that when you had finished your work on the set for the play- which was only two weeks away now- you didn’t even pretend to be busy with anything else this time. You grabbed a wooden stool from backstage, tugged it close enough to the table to see the story playing out before you, and simply watched Eddie do one of the things in his life that truly made him come alive. 

What you didn’t realize was that there was now another thing that seemed to bring out the best parts of him the same way that D&D did, the same way that music did, the same way that curling up and rereading The Hobbit did. And when Eddie heard the drag of your wooden stool across the black surface of the floor, glanced over his shoulder and saw your eager, shining eyes glowing brightly at him, drinking in every word that left his lips- that was when he realized it.

 He realized that you were quickly becoming one of the things that made him love waking up in the morning.

***

Eddie had, admittedly, never been to a play before. He’d been in a play, but that was back in the fifth grade, and it was more of a Christmas pageant than an actual play. He had played one of the three wise men, and all he could remember from it was his teacher chewing him out for his improvised line- “Myrrh-y Christmas, Jesus”- when he’d placed his prop-gift into baby Jesus’ manger. That had been the prompt end of his acting career.

Now, as he tried his best to look nonchalant with his hands in his pockets, he couldn’t help but feel particularly out of place while his eyes frantically searched for a place to sit in the auditorium that would give him the perfect balance of empty seats and proximity to people he knew wouldn’t recognize him. The last thing he needed was another reason for his usual bullies to mess with him. 

“Munson! Hey, Eddie! Over here!”

Eddie’s attention flicked over to a seat toward the back, occupied by none other than Robin Buckley, who was absolutely ruining his efforts to act cool. He rushed to where she sat while trying his best to wordlessly communicate SHUT. UP. with only his eyes. Oblivious to Eddie’s plea, Robin patted the empty seat beside her.

“I didn’t know you would be here!” her voice was loud- that was something he already knew- but it still rang uncomfortably in his ears. 

“I’m right here, Buckley, no need to yell.” Eddie hissed, crouching in his seat as if he could make himself smaller just by trying. “Yeah, well I didn’t exactly have other plans, and I knew this was going on and…yeah.” 

Robin watched Eddie stumble through his poor attempt at nonchalance, a knowing grin taking up residence on her mouth. When he clumsily arrived at the end of his sentence, she simply kept smiling at him, which unnerved him greatly. He averted his eyes, leaning back in his chair and throwing an arm over the rest an elbow atop its back. “What?” he scoffed, once again trying to appear indifferent- it didn’t work well, at which Robin snorted. 

She shook her head, chuckling silently. “She’s going to be so happy you showed up.” 

Well if that didn’t make his chest feel as though it was about to inflate and fly away, nothing did.

Regardless, Eddie still acted cool- or tried to, at least. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.” but the red crawling up his neck and the sappy grin that he just couldn’t fend off gave him away. Robin groaned, pretending to be fed up even though she actually thought the way he reacted when you were simply mentioned was the cutest thing she’d ever seen in her life. Even though she knew he didn’t need reminding, she still said your name just to see if his blush would grow even deeper when he heard it. She was rewarded. 

Eddie nodded in recognition, sticking to his bit. “Oh yeah, I forgot she was helping out with this thing. That’s uh… that’s cool-”

“Oh shove it, Munson, quit playing the indifferent cool guy.” she shoved a finger in his face. “You like her.” 

He scoffed- again- and rolled his eyes a little too hard. “Lay off it, Buckley, we’re just friends.” 

Robin raised an eyebrow, obviously not buying it. “Really? That’s it?”

Eddie remained neutral in his tone, shrugging as if the whole situation were just that cut-and-dry. “Yup. That’s it.”

She looked at him for a long time- a long time, with a gaze so intense it made Eddie a bit uncomfortable. It felt like letting go of a breath he’d been holding when Eddie finally heard Robin’s “If you say so.” 

Eddie nodded. “I do say so.”

Judging by Robin’s facial expression, she still didn’t buy it, but she seemed willing to drop the topic. “Okay then.”

“Okay.” Eddie mumbled, just in time for the lights on the stage to go down. 

It only took about ten minutes of the play to go by for Eddie to start wondering if seeing you at the end of the production was going to be worth sitting here for an hour and a half. However, when the curtain had finally closed and he saw the look on your face upon seeing him standing there with Robin at the end of the arts hallway- that long hour and a half melted away. 

You were dressed all in black just like a few other crew members that Eddie saw scuttling about, carrying certain props and costume pieces. Pulling away from a hug that you’d bestowed upon Robin immediately after seeing her, your eyes focused on him and he couldn’t help but smile at you.

“Eddie Munson, did you actually sit through an entire theater production of your own free will?” you asked through a toothy smile. 

Hands in his pockets, Eddie shrugged and hid his smirk behind long stray curls. “Yeah, maybe.”

He was quiet. You were quiet. You were both just… smiling at each other. Like idiots. Robin shook her head in disbelief. 

“You’re both idiots.” she mumbled, dumbfounded.

You blinked. “What?”

“I said ‘Let’s go get burgers!’ I’m starving.” Robin began walking with you down the hall toward the exit. “Coming, Munson?”

You looked at him, wide-eyed. He struggled to read your expression- were you expecting Buckley to invite him? Were you hoping he would say yes? Say no? Eddie stuttered, clearing his throat. 

“I mean, if you want me to-”

You nodded, a little too quickly. “Yeah! I mean, if you want to-”

“I don’t want to impose-”

“Don’t feel like you have to-”

“Oh my god!” Robin stomped over to Eddie, grabbing him by his upper arm and dragging you in the same spot with her upper hand. “You both want burgers! Let’s go get burgers!” Eddie had to suppress a chuckle upon hearing Robin’s muttered ‘God, you two are fucking children’ under her breath. Your gazes connected behind Robin’s head, both of your faces sporting a small, crinkled grin- shy and sharing. 

Thank god for Robin. 

Eddie was happy to throw Robin’s bike in the back of his van; happy to drive the two of you to the diner downtown in lieu of meeting you there. Happy- and relieved- to discover that even though he had only ever spent time with you alone or with his friends, he was able to fall into comfortable conversation with you and your friend the same way that you had nestled your way into his friends’ routine so easily. It had been ages since one of the Hellfire members had glanced your way during a session, nervous to throw themselves into the game while an outsider was in the room waiting to judge them. They learned- Eddie learned- pretty quickly that you would never judge them. Pretty soon, you weren’t an outsider- you were just a part of their Friday plans. 

Eddie’s mind began to wonder, as he drove the two of you down the main road, now that the play was over, and you had no reason to keep showing up to Hellfire, what excuse would Eddie have to see you? Summer was fast approaching, so you wouldn’t be seeing each other at school each day either. Suddenly, Eddie wasn’t just wondering, he was worrying. Without an excuse to see you, would this burgeoning little friendship just…fall? Just stop? 

“Hey, Eddie? You awake over there?” you snapped your fingers by Eddie’s ear, and he flinched away slightly as a nervous laugh bubbled up his throat. 

“Sorry,” Eddie said, his voice light. “Just got lost in thought I guess.”

If the two of you were alone, you would have asked him what he was thinking about. However, Robin was here- it was a strange sort of limbo you felt you were in, your childhood best friend and your newly-discovered… friend. Crush. Maybe-crush? The way you felt about Eddie was becoming increasingly difficult for you to pinpoint. You knew you loved being around him. You knew that your heart had done a complete backflip when you’d seen him waiting with Robin after the play. Eddie Munson did not attend school functions. When you’d seen him at the winter formal years ago, you hadn’t even seen him inside- as far as you’d known, he hadn’t gone with a date… maybe he’d gone with friends? Or he was someone’s ride? Either way, the fact that he would go to a play simply because you were involved in it was certainly enough to give you heart palpitations.

When the three of you arrived at the diner, the energy was a little odd between the three of you. Robin watched as you and Eddie had gone from comfortably chatty to eerily quiet. It seemed that you both were caught up in your own spiraling thoughts, and the awkwardness that it was causing was going to make Robin scream if it didn’t stop soon.

“So Eddie,” Robin said as you all sat down in one of the plasticky blue booths in the diner, “what are your summer plans?”

It seemed to take a second for Eddie to register what Robin was asking; he tilted his head to the side, taking a second to consider. “Haven’t thought about it…honestly, I figured I might be busy with summer school or something if I wasn’t passing all my classes-”

“-Which, you are.” you interrupted, a soft, proud smile on your lips.

Eddie laughed, and Robin couldn’t help but notice that his biggest smiles always happened when he was looking at you.

“Yeah, thanks to you.” Eddie replied, quickly turning to the waitress as she walked up to your table, closing the window of time you had to deny the credit he was hell-bent on giving you. The three of you each ordered a burger and a milkshake before Robin took it upon herself to carry on the conversation. 

“Think you’ll get a summer job?” she asked Eddie with a nefarious grin. “You could work at Scoops with us, you get a pretty sweet outfit out of the gig.”

Eddie barked out a laugh, “Hah! I’ll pass on the shorts, thanks.” 

You cursed your brain for conjuring up the image of Eddie in shorts, then proceeded to burn that image in your brain.

“You bring up a good point, though,” he mused, “Wayne and I could use the money. I pick up odd jobs around the neighborhood, but most of the old farts around the park just throw me whatever they find between their couch cushions.” 

The waitress set your shake in front of you, which you eagerly grabbed and took a sip. “I can keep an eye out for places that are hiring, if you want.” You smiled at Eddie, bright red straw lightly resting against your lips. 

“Yeah?” he asked hopefully, “Just don’t go asking at any places where I’ll have to wear some stupid outfit.”

“Hey!” you narrowed your eyes on him, a teasing glint in your gaze. “I happen to think I look cute in that stupid outfit.”

Eddie had no doubt that you did, but he wasn’t about to tell you that. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Mr. Smee.” 

Robin snorted, shaking her head at the two of you. She was astounded at your combined talents for ignoring the undeniable chemistry that the two of you had whenever you shared each others’ spaces. She saw it all- the way he seemed so completely unaffected by everything except for you. The way that whenever he was around, you couldn’t peel your eyes away from him. The way that you both refused to admit that your friendship had an expiration date- you both wanted to be more than friends, and that much was clear as day to Robin. It was only a matter of time before one of you cracked. A ticking time bomb.

Robin resolved to confront you about it at some point. Not tonight; tonight, she was content to watch the two of you idiots tripping over yourselves while you pretended not to be absolutely besotted with each other- it was free entertainment. But she’d ask you about it soon. 

For now, she settled for laughing at the way you pretended to be mad at Eddie as he spent the whole meal trying to sneak fries from your plate. 

Part 4

[wolken-himmel]

In which Jade and Floyd try to make (Y/n) fall in love with Azul — with the help of a very convincing PowerPoint presentation!

Request by anon.

[This is Part (2/2); Part (1/2) can be found here.]

"Shrimpy, it's so nice of you to join us today!"

The drawn down shutters veiled the Mostro Lounge in an ominous darkness that left you queasy and disoriented, especially when you noticed the ropes that bound your hands behind the chair you sat on. Your heart skipped a beat when a light beam was swung right onto you, almost blinding you entirely. But, just in time, two tall figures stepped in front of you to shield you: Jade and Floyd.

Was this an interrogation?

A growl escaped your lips upon spotting them. "I hate to break it to you, but I never was given the option whether to join you or not. You basically threw me over your shoulder and dragged me here..." you cried out and tried to wiggle your way out of the bounds.

Jade shrugged. "Fair point," he said, his passive attitude eliciting a sigh of relief from you. However, your newfound comfort was soon washed away when he stepped away, an eerie grin on his lips. "But instead of useless apologies, we shall start with today's event: a presentation on how wonderful, amazing, and kind our dorm leader Azul Ashengrotto is."

It was only then that you noticed how the bright light wasn't the produce of a lamp, but instead a beamer trained at the wall across from you. When Floyd pressed a little button on his remote, the pure whiteness shifted into the introduction transparency, the title being 'The Greatness and Generosity of Azul Ashengrotto' in a fancy font.

"Look! That's two alliterations in a row, Shrimpy!"

The sheer absurdity of the situation made you furrow your eyebrows as you stuttered out, "Why—"

"We heard you talking about our boss the other day," Floyd cut in, an amused grin on his lips while he watched you squirm in discomfort. "Shrimpy and the baby seal always think they're so stealthy— but they're not!"

"So... you heard me ramble about Azul to Grim."

"Precisely," Jade said. "And we did not like your conclusion — which, if you do not recall, said that you would give up your crush on Azul due to his exaggerated reputation as a manipulator."

You froze in your struggles to narrow your eyes at them coldly. "You guys are stalkers."

Floyd rolled his eyes, unaffected. "Hush, it's in the name of love—" His serious demeanour broke down into cackles as he added, "And less night shifts for me!"

"If you do not object, we shall begin, prefect."

"I do object—" you wailed out.

"Without further ado, let us begin," Jade announced, all the while ignoring your shouts of protest. It was only when he turned away from you that you ceased your attempts of rebellion. A satisfied smile on the eel's lips, he took a deep breath. "Azul Ashengrotto is at the top of his class, always revered as one of the most reliant and supportive students on campus."

"Supportive?" you cried out. "He manipulated students into signing shady contracts."

"Do you not see that he has changed his ways? The new system that has replaced the contracts is overtly generous," Jade explained smoothly.

At your argument being countered so easily, you shrank into yourself and, for a moment, deeply reconsidered your views. The only thing that the two Octavinelle students witnessed from you was a quiet, "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Floyd clapped his hands in utter delight at you accepting your temporary defeat. "Oi, Shrimpy! I was wondering why you always avoided our boss!" he suddenly commented, and you jumped in fear. "A few days ago, you were laughing at one of my jokes when Azul slinked over— that's when you ran for the hills with your short legs..." A Cheshire cat grin appeared on Floyd's face.

Your cheeks heating up, you stuttered out an embarrassed, "B-Because I get nervous around him! He has that sophisticated air around him. And he's also really pretty..."

Floyd clicked his tongue mockingly. "Eh, poor Shrimpy... is just as socially awkward as Azul."

"Hey, I'm not! I'm only like that when he is around."

"That's a good sign for us, actually," Jade mumbled to himself, reconsidering his approach to the whole operation. Within a split second, he had made up his mind and turned to you, smiling kindly. "But (Y/n), we understand what your greatest fear is— what stops you from accepting your feelings."

"You would never..." you scoffed angrily.

"You fear that he will manipulate you and your feelings, to get whatever he wants before he drops you without a warning. You fear that his feelings for you will be without genuineness."

The vice dormleader's monologue left you speechless. Yet, your pride didn't allow you to completely show your awe, so you merely muttered a dejected, "Alright... maybe you do understand me a little bit." Your gaze downcast, you began prodding one feet against the other to busy your mind.

"Ugh, let me tell you, Shrimpy..." Floyd exclaimed vigorously and slung an arm around you. "Our boss likes you, too. And he's really serious about it! He's been nagging my ears off ever since he's overheard your little talk."

"Yes, Azul is quite determined and genuine in his pursuit for your heart," Jade added softly.

Your eyes wandered between the two of them, the expression on your face always flickering between uncertainty and suspicion. They had you caged in; there was nowhere else to look but their expectant faces — and the pressure was building up. And it was only when you couldn't take it anymore that you exhaled and whispered, "You sound so convincing, and yet my mind screams at me not to trust you slippery eels." Your head hurt from all the thinking.

Floyd gasped. "Slippery? How offensive!" he cried out dramatically. "We're moist, if I may correct."

Jade waved his brother off. "Anyway, what Floyd wanted to say is that you should try and get closer to Azul."

"And how would I do that?" you asked shyly, though there was a spark of determination in your voice now. "With what reason would I approach him?"

Floyd broke out into uncontrollable laughter. "Definitely not with the reason that we kidnapped you and forced you through an hour long presentation."

[meamiya]

LESSON 2: TITTY FUCKING with FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

 synopsis♱ ‣ I mean the title speaks for itself. We’ve got Megumi and we’ve got tits. Put them together (lol) and what do we get? An orgasm (spoiler alert).

 cw♱ ‣ nsfw, characters are aged up (21+), afab!reader, slight alcohol use, slight handjob, tittyjob, one dick lick, mutual pining, friends to lovers. (Let me know if I missed anything)

 word count♱ ‣ 3.3k words

 author’s note♱ ‣ Megumi is a tits guy, and I will die on this hill. Also, this was way longer than I had planned to make it. Additionally, take a shot every time you see the word tits if you’re of legal drinking age (Juice is fine too I guess). Anyway, Enjoy!

 ♱ explicit content! minors do not interact ♱

 Even in your slightly inebriated state you could feel his eyes on you. Warm embers flit along the exposed skin of your arms and neck in tandem with his gaze before they lock on your chest. Goosebumps follow in their wake, and you feel a satisfied shiver run down your spine once you identify where his stare has firmly rooted.

 Megumi Fushiguro, the Megumi Fushiguro, the one who acts as if he has a permanent stick stuck up his ass and who you thought had less romantic or sexual interest in you than a damn rock, is staring at your tits.

 You owe Nobara a fat kiss on the cheek and 10 bucks because never in all your years of trying have you managed to grab his attention so relentlessly.

 The cropped camisole (read scrap of fabric) you’re wearing is courtesy of Maki, who greatly underestimated how well you’d fill it out. Between the dainty straps and low neckline, there was truly little left to the imagination. You’d usually never be caught dead wearing such an item, let alone even have such a thing in you closet, but in the comfort of Maki and Nobara’s apartment and with the help of your good friend, tequila, you were relaxed enough to let them work their magic and catch their long-awaited prey.

 Laughter brings you out of your thoughts as you take in the scene before you: Yuuji lies passed out, ever the lightweight, across the living room floor while Toge, Yuta and Panda attempt to lug his heavy body somewhere more comfortable. The initial shock of your tits greeting everyone before you could had worn off; mostly. The incessant probes from your left told a different story, though. Nobara and Maki, who had been whispering amongst themselves now direct their gaze toward you, in a way that ensures trouble will follow, before they turn to get everyone’s attention.

 “I have an idea everyone!” This is not a statement you trust coming from Nobara but you listen, nonetheless. “Let’s play Truth or Dare!”.

 A chorus of eh’s and oh no’s ensue, and you wish to be sucked into the earth as you follow her train of thought.

 Before anyone can formally protest, she exclaims, “I’ll go first!”

 Oh God.

 “Panda! Truth or Dare?”

 Thank God.

 “Dare!”

 “I dare you to down my drink and yours!”

 Panda immediately complies and the game continues peacefully quite unexpectedly. Yuta admits that his favourite teacher is Gojo, Toge swallows a tablespoon of wasabi, Maki is dared to switch outfits with Yuta and before you know it, its Megumi’s turn.

 The devious glint returns to Maki’s eyes as she appraises an apprehensive Megumi. “Megs, Truth or Dare?”

 To everyone’s surprise, he picks dare, though you fear neither choice would have worked out in his favour.

 “I dare you to take a body shot off of the hottest person in this room.”

 Megumi splutters while taking a sit of the beer he had been nursing the entire night and your stomach drops. Thoughts of him picking either of the two women to your right, or anyone in this room as a matter of fact, swirl in your head as everyone stares at Megumi expectedly. Under the harsh gaze his cheeks immediately bloom a cherry red, and his eyes scan the room before landing on you. You freeze.

 “I-” he stutters, lost for words as a light sheen of perspiration covers his face, immediately breaking eye contact.

 “You...?” Maki mocks.

 “I… I need to go to the bathroom.” He’s on his feet in the flash of an eye and leaves the room briskly, completely ignoring the boo’s that follow him. You don’t miss the way he tugs his hoodie over the front of his jeans and neither does Maki.

 “It’s now or never, Hun.” She whispers encouragingly and gives you a light shove to pull you away from the negative thoughts that render you immobile.

 You get to your feet, dawdling to the hallway that Megumi had just disappeared down while wiping your sweaty palms down the length of your jeans.

 Your decade long crush was either about to reach fruition or come crashing down with your heart as the only casualty, and all the pep talks you had received from Nobara are now mute mutterings in the background of your fear clouded mind.

 You look back hoping that someone will take pity on your poor soul only to find five pairs of thumbs up pointing back at you.

 If that wasn’t a kick in the ass, then you didn’t know what was. With newfound courage, you turn back and continue your journey towards the bathroom, towards your inevitable fate.

 A steady, deep breathe steels your nerves as you knock firmly on the door, hoping he can hear you over the sound of running water.

 No response.

 Another knock. “Megumi?” you call.

 The water turns off and your breath catches in your throat. A pause.

 “I’ll be out soon. I just need a second.” He replies, so quiet you barely catch it.

 It truly was now or never. “I have something I really need to tell you. Can I come in? Please?’

 The silence behind the door is deafening but the pounding of your heart surely resonated throughout the hallway. Your patience wears thin with every passing second and before the defeated sigh passes through your lips you hear it, ever so softly.

 “The door’s open.”

 You don’t waste a second, breaking down the final barrier standing in your way and making your way inside, closing the door behind you.

 The air in the bathroom feels different: more palpable, thick with unspoken thoughts and fears. Your back knocks against the door as you appraise him.

 His tall form is hunched over the sink to your left, held up by strong arms, and his raven hair shields his face, drenched in water as the plop of each droplet hitting the sink echoes in the still space.  

 He speaks first, voice void of emotion. “What did you want to say?”

 Although you dreaded having to make eye contact; the flush of your cheeks and nervous intertwining of your fingers being a dead giveaway for what was undoubtedly a precursor for you pouring your heart out, confessing to his back was not in the cards for tonight.

 “Turn around Megumi.” You ask, ultimately command, gently.

 “No, you’re going to make fun of me.” His head lowers even further.

 His statement renders you completely confused as this situation lacks any semblance of humour.

“Why would I make fun of you, Megumi?”

 Looking back, you failed to take note of one thing. Compared to Megumi, Yuuji was an elite drinker and the fact that he was now passed out on the living room couch spoke volumes. Megumi was a fucking lightweight. And if there was one way to know if Megumi had been drinking, it would be the fact that his lips loosened tremendously and drunk, tipsy in this scenario, minds speak sober thoughts. The one beer that he had been sipping on was the final nail in the coffin of his restraint and the words flowed freely before he could stop himself.

 “Because I couldn’t go one minute without staring at you tonight even though I’ve been able to control myself for years. And you’re so short so every time I looked your way, I could see down that sorry excuse of a top and that, combined with the fact that I could smell your perfume with every breath I took, made my dick throb like a fucking teenager.” He’s basically whining at this point, ashamed of his own thoughts and desires. “Years. Years down the drain.” He mutters to himself.

 “You thought I’d laugh at you for that?” your giggling betrays you. Your heart is beating a mile a minute, unsure if you’d walked into an alternate reality or if your long-time crush had just confessed to you being his long-time crush.

 “Why wouldn’t you? I’m such a loser.” He complains, gripping at his hair

 Your feet move a step closer on their own accord.

 “Megumi.” you whisper but he ignores you, lost in self-anguish.

 Another step forward; he’s within arms reach now.

 “Megumi.” You call again, louder this time, but to no avail.

 You take the plunge, closing the distance between yourselves, and grip his damp face firmly between your comparably smaller hands, forcing his attention to you. The blush that travels from his cheeks to his ears and down his neck surely mirrors your own.

 Your voice is quiet and nervous as you whisper, “Does that mean you like me?”

 His eyes remain downcast as he replies. “Isn’t it obvious. Now that you know just reject me once and for all.”

 Your heartbeat picks up if that was even possible. If only he could see the hearts in your eyes whenever you looked at him.

 The pout of his lips and puppy dog eyes make you want to tease him just a little more. “Why would I reject you, Megumi?”

 He scoffs, as if the answer was obvious. “Because I know that you like Yuuji.”

 Your shoulders shake as you try to keep your laughing fit at bay, but the subsequent shaking of your hands against his face finally draw his attention to you, his scowl deepening further at your amusement during his time of turmoil.

 “Yuuji? Why would you think I like Yuuji?” you ask incredulously.

 He rolls his eyes in disbelief. “Because you’re always at his place when I visit and every time he whispers something in your ear you turn bright red.”

 You can’t help but find the way he had noticed these details and completely misinterpreted their meanings endearing, deciding to finally put him and yourself out of your misery.

 “Did you ever think that he specifically invites me over on the days you visit so that he can fulfil his desire to play matchmaker and that each whisper is just to tease me about how obvious my crush on you is? Well, obvious for everyone else.” You tease.

 He’s momentarily stunned, eyes wide and mouth dropped slightly as you wait for him to process what you had just declared.  

 “You like me?” he asks in disbelief.

 Since your words had not completely punctured his thick skull, you attempt a more hands on approach. Grabbing the sides of his face more firmly, you tilt his face down and rise to the tips of your toes to accommodate for the height difference before your lips meet his. The kiss is soft and innocent but allows you to communicate years’ worth of longing and once the initial shock has worn off, he relaxes and moulds his lips against yours.

 You pull away all too soon, far too soon for his liking. “I like you too, Megumi.” You finally confess, the words once a stone in your heart now something you wish to shout from the mountain tops. “I love you.”

 The words have barely left your lips before he’s encasing them in his own once again, dragging you closer with one hand on your waist and the other entangled in your hair to deepen the kiss.

 “I love you, too.” He whispers against your lips before he deepens the kiss, making up for the years he wasn’t able to. The years of delusion he had lived in thinking that you weren’t meant to be his and he yours. He had so much time to make up for and he was going to start right now.

 His face twists to deepen the kiss even further, tongue peeking out hesitantly to lick at your bottom lip and your hand moving to pull him in at the nape is more than enough permission for him to explore the wet heat of your mouth hoping for you to reciprocate and you do. The residual dampness coating his skin transfers to your own but neither of you care. The kiss is full of passion and yearning, soft sighs and moans, and the gripping of clothing to bring the other that much closer. So close that you’re reminded of what you, and Maki, had caught a glimpse of in the living room.

 Hard and hot against your thigh lies something you had seen before in countless dreams. Dreams that left you breathless once you awoke, sweat coating your entire body and mixing with the slick that dripped from between your thighs, coupled with a needy throbbing that only relented after a moment of self-deprecation and two fingers shoved into your cunt. Megumi’s cock was pressed firmly against you, and you just had to see it in person, knowing it would be a thousand times better than the half-baked image in your head.

 You pull back once again, and Megumi’s whine worsens the wetness between your legs. “You did so well in telling me how you feel, and I know it must have been hard for you to admit all that. Well, I know that wasn’t the only hard thing for you tonight so how about I make it up to you.”

 You drag his large frame towards to toilet before you plop him down onto the seat, kneeling between his legs. From your new point of view, his bulge is mouth-wateringly large, and your insides tingle in anticipation.

 Glancing up you take note of his flushed face and the soft pants falling from his swollen lips. Your hands make their way to his thighs, rubbing soothingly in order to calm your and his nerves.

 “Is this okay?” you whisper.

 His nod is enthusiastic to say the least and doesn’t fail to make you grin up at him.

 Your hand trails higher now, finger tracing over the zipper of his jeans, and his bulge. His lidded eyes follow your movements.

 “Is this okay?” you ask, lower and more seductive.

 “Yes.” A barely audible confirmation; the gulp that follows louder.

 Your patience is wearing thin, and you know Megumi’s is too by the way his leg taps sporadically, so without wasting time, you unzip his pants, grab the material of both his jeans and boxers and pull both down his legs with his assistance.

 Mouth-watering was a more than apt description as you were practically salivating at the sight before you. Pink and pretty. And big.

 Mournfully, you tear your eyes away from his appendage to look up at him, only to find his eyes had returned to their fixation of the evening. Your camisole had fallen that much further down your chest and your pebbled nipples were begging for attention, covered only by one layer of fabric.

 “Do you want to touch them?”

 His eyes jerk up to meet yours, shining with equal parts nervousness and hunger, and he nods shyly. With extreme caution his hands make their way to your tits, pausing an inch away from direct contact, almost as if to prepare himself, until his featherlight touch makes contact with the material of your camisole.

 Unsatisfied with his hesitance and the intense need to have his hands on you, you cup your tits over his hands squeezing them firmly in his grasp.

 The moan he lets out is guttural as his palms feel the tell-tale peaks of your nipples, and the sound shoots straight to your core. “Fuck.” His hands have a mind of their own now as he moulds them into his palms with pure abandon and a small smile makes their way to his lips at the moan you release.

 The unmissable twitch of his cock brings your attention back to the task at hand. You bring your hand up to grasp his solid length in your tiny hands, stroking upwards to collect the precum that had been leaking from his tip and it mixes with your sweat-lined palms allowing you to stroke him with ease.  

 Soft pants and groans escape Megumi, and you want them to increase tenfold, want him to invade all of your senses.

 “Is it okay if I try something, Megumi?” you ask and, in his state, all he can do is nod meekly.

 Prying Megumi’s hands off of you physically pains both you and him, but you place them at his side, nevertheless. Your camisole sticks to your flushed skin as you peel the straps off of each shoulder and slide the material down your torso, shivering under Megumi’s heated gaze. He admires your tits as you had admired his cock; with an intense need to suck it into the wet heat of his mouth.

 Megumi’s imagination continues to run wild, failing to take note of you leaning closer to his crotch, cupping your chest. Its only once the pillowy softness has enclosed his dick in its warm and suffocating embrace that he is brought down to Earth, and he swears his legs turn to jelly at the slight before him.

 You’re looking up at him through dark eyelashes, watching his reactions closely before sticking your tongue out and letting your spit drip over the tip of his dick to aid the movement of your tits gliding up and down his cock.

 Megumi’s head falls back against the wall behind the cistern, eyes rolling to the back of his head and a groan so loud you pray no one outside of the bathroom can hear it leaves his open mouth.

 You squeeze your tits that much closer together, maximising the contact between your skin and his, and with every downward motion, his core tightens and his thighs twitch. You found it incredibly endearing as he tried and failed to keep the movements of his hips at bay, but before long his hips began thrusting at their own pace, a much faster one. The squelching coming from the mixture of his precum and your spit had increased in volume and frequency, and you are unable keep up with his thrusts any longer, instead remaining stationary and allowing him to chase his fast-approaching orgasm.

 His hands have found their way to his hair again, grasping the drenched locks in tight fists. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m gonna come.”

 Your eyes lock on his drowsy ones. “Don’t apologize, ‘Gumi. Come whenever you want.”

 If the upwards tilt of your seductive eyes combined with the nickname you had just called him was not enough already, the tip of your tongue that you ran sloppily over his tip on one particular upward thrust sent him over the edge and straight into a mind-numbing orgasm.

 His hips lift off of the toilet seat as you feel the warm liquid of his cum coat your chin and chest, and with a few short thrusts to ride out his orgasm, he slumps back down onto the seat, fucked out and limp from the best orgasm of his life.

 You’re quick to grab a piece of toilet paper, wiping yourself down and tossing it into the trash while Megumi’s breathing levels out and he’s become lucid enough to button up his jeans. When you’re within arm’s reach again, he pulls you down onto his lap, tucks his chin into the crook of your neck and encircles his arms around your waist.

 “I love you.” He whispers into your skin, embedding it into your flesh.

 Your arms wrap around his neck and pull him infinitely closer. “I love you too, ‘Gumi.”

 You welcome the comforting silence for a second but noise from outside of the bathroom brings you back to reality.

 “Let’s hope you still love me after we get flamed by every one of our friends once we leave this room.”

 His laughter is light-hearted despite the fact that you were dead serious.

 30 minutes was a normal amount of time to be in the bathroom, right? Right?

  Meanwhile in the living room:

 Yuta looks down the hallway for the umpteenth time in the past 30 minutes before his curiosity gets the best of him. “You don’t think they’re-”

 “They are.”

 “100%”

 “Shake.”

 “What he said.”

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 16

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 15 🟣 Part 17

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: Ongoing vampire shenanigans, mentions of blood, biting, angst. SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, fingering, p-in-v sex, feral Mikey, vampire!Mikey's semi-nursing kink. I think that's all necessary warnings, but as always; tell me if I missed something, please!

Word count: 2999 (..... Not sure if satisfying or no.)

A/N: Sorry it took so long. Life got in the way. And I mean really in the way. It's probably going to be like that for a while. Anyway. Enjoy Mikey and vampire shenanigans.

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @ellethespaceunicorn @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld

He opened the door hesitantly. “Eh, Sweetcheeks?” The trembling of his voice made you freeze up under the blankets. “It’s, eh… It’s okay. I’m gonna take a shower and I could really use a hug. Hi, August. Sorry to interrupt your moment.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mike,” August answered to your surprise, and even with a light chuckle to his voice. “I get why you were keeping her to yourself now,” he added, “she’s incredible.”

His words made you blush, especially when Mike grinned and doubled down on the praise. “Yeah, she is! And those little noises she makes are so cute.”

You didn’t quite know how to react. Normally you’d have berated him for sharing those intimate details with others but, put bluntly, the ‘others’ in question had just fucked you to the moon and back.

Too.

Also.

Before you could gather your thoughts enough to give Mike an answer, he turned back. “Anyway, see you in a bit, yeah?”

“You hurried because you knew he was coming home?” you asked August when you heard Mike turn the water on.

“I could tell he wasn’t feeling so great, and I figured he’d need some comfort,” August said, omitting a direct ‘yes’. “Go join him.”

You searched his face for any sign of disapproval or disappointment at leaving him now, but you found nothing but a gentle smile and a strange, lingering sense of appreciation radiating from the way he looked at you.

It should have felt weird to climb out of August’s bed and wander towards the bathroom, not even bothering to put on any clothes, but it didn’t — although it proved to be a relatively poor decision when you ran into Marshall in the hallway, who didn’t quite know where to look.

“Wow, she’s fit.”

“Excuse me?” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise as you asked your question — and so did his.

“I didn’t say anything,” he said with a shrug. A brief pause followed, filled with the single most awkward silence you’d experienced in your entire life.

“No… You were thinking it…”

“God, first time this happens and that’s what she catches?”

“Yes, Marshall. That’s what I caught,” you said with a grin before walking towards him. Without thinking, you put a hand on the side of his face. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn.”

One second your hand was on his cheek, the next he had it pinned to the wall, over your head. Marshall held both of your hands there with one of his, with insufferable ease.

“I can smell him on you.” It was a growl — and a particularly gritty one at that — and an accusation. “Why should I wait any longer?” Your heart pounded in your chest as he lowered his head to nip at your neck. “I’m not going to watch from the sidelines forever, love. I want what’s mine.”

“And you’ll have me,” you said, shocking yourself with your newfound confidence, “but Mikey needs me, and I made him a promise. So be a good boy and let go of me. Oh, and work on this temper.” You stared into his eyes, almost losing your nerve, but you managed to last until Marshall slowly relaxed his grip on your arms until they dropped to your sides. What he didn’t do, was move away.

“Don’t start something now that you won’t be able to finish later,” he snarled before disappearing into his room.

You weren’t trembling when you resumed your way to the bathroom, which was strange, because you felt like you should have been doing just that. There had never been any tension with Marshall before — except maybe for that incident when he’d ripped your arm to shreds by accident. Other than that, everything had been especially easy with him.

Until now.

What had changed? Was he upset with you because he thought he was last, in some way? Technically, he wasn’t. You’d never slept with Sherlock — which was something that irked you in its own right, but those feelings were hardly relevant at this point in time.

Well, what did he expect you to do? Show up at his door wearing nothing but a pair of heels and beg him to take you? No. You couldn’t quite imagine that he felt legitimately entitled to you in some way, despite his words from before. Besides, you didn’t feel much for that scenario, or any other scenario where you boldly offered yourself up on a silver platter for him to enjoy.

Maybe — just maybe — Marshall had to take a second to get over himself.

You shook your head, as if to cleanse it of your thoughts about Marshall — which, you only realized now, he had indubitably heard — and focused on the blurry shape of Mike behind the fogged-up shower wall.

“Hmm, did I just hear you put the big bad wolf in his place?” Mike asked, no doubt with a huge grin on his face, but it was impossible to see.

“I could hear his thoughts,” you half-chuckled in complete disbelief. Marshall had mentioned the projection of gifts could persist beyond feedings, and you weren’t surprised he was the first with whom it happened, but… you were just a little floored it had happened at all.

“Look at you becoming a force to be reckoned with,” Mike said as you slid the door open and joined him in the shower. He was definitely grinning. Mike wasted no time to pull you in, wrapping you in a massive hug. “Alright, so… I’m toast for the semester.  Only one of my professors will allow me to do a make up assignment for the labs I missed… The other two I’ll have to retake next year.” He hid his face in your neck, pulling you even closer.

“Mikey, I need to breathe,” you managed when Mike continued to crush you, but as soon as the words left your mouth, he relaxed his grip.

“Sorry, Sweetcheeks, just… rough day. I really fucked up by leaving, and… I know it’s fair that it’s coming back to bite me in the ass, but it also hurts.” There were tears in his eyes, he sounded tired and he felt cold, despite…

“You didn’t get enough yesterday, did you?” you laughed. Mike shrugged and smiled apologetically.

“I’ve never felt that level of thirst before… it was excruciating. Yesterday I took everything I could without getting sick. If you’re up for it, I could definitely use a little more, later.”

“Of course, baby, I’m all yours!” You kissed the tip of his nose and rested your hands on his lower back. It was just impossible to keep them from gently stroking the dimples in it, the soft curve of his ass — tight and round and so perfect you were the one who would love to get a bite for a change…

“How was August?” Mike asked, nothing but mischief in his eyes. Were you imagining things, or did he really want an honest answer? Alright then…

“Fantastic,” you muttered, heat creeping up to your cheeks as you spoke. “Are you sure you want to hear about it?”

Without warning, he turned you around and shoved you into the dark-tiled wall. “I’m sure I want you back…” The way he inhaled deeply through his nose held something primal, something almost violent, as he took in your scent, and no doubt August’s as well. “I want to… compete with whatever of him is left on your skin.” Over your shoulder, you noticed that he flashed fang on his next smile, making you bite your lip in anticipation. “You’re in for it now, Sweetcheeks.”

You thought the hand that closed around your throat did so in the shower, but when you opened your eyes you were on your knees on Mikey’s bed — still wet from the shower, your hair dripping everywhere. He didn’t care. His breathing was fast, ragged, with little snarls escaping him on almost every exhale — and every last one of those sounds sent shivers down your spine.

His free hand traveled down your side, following the curve of your hip before moving over your thigh and slowly trailing back up. With his leg, he effortlessly pushed yours apart, giving his hand space to gently explore your pussy. Not that there was much exploring left for him. By now, he knew that particular area of your body about as well as he was ever going to.

He lightly circled your clit with a single finger, making you whine as he played you like a fiddle — then whine again, louder this time, when he abandoned his pursuit to slip his fingers into your wetness. As he did, a growl escaped him — a sound that was followed by a gentle nip at your earlobe.

He was impatient, which — of course — wasn’t unusual for him, but today it was definitely worse than ever before. His fingers moved almost erratically, and abandoned you after only a short time. It didn’t matter much; August had taken good care of you over and over and over again… You could do without an orgasm on this one. Nevertheless, you moved your hips in search of more friction, smiling coyly when you felt his hard cock grind into your ass from behind, and soon, your movements were about teasing Mike rather than chasing your own pleasure.

He didn’t like that much.

“You know, you managed to tell Marshall off today, but when he just decides you’re his, what are you going to do?” With a single move, he pushed his cock into you, making you swear under your breath as he stretched you out.

“Mike, are you wearing…”

“A little trust, Sweetcheeks. I’m horny, not an idiot. Okay, I am an idiot, but not... you know what I mean.” When you both laughed, his grip around your throat slacked. “Sorry about that,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses against your shoulder while he gently rocked his hips against your ass.

“No, I think I like feral Mikey,” you chuckled, running a hand through his still soaking wet curls. He laughed and nuzzled your neck — it was adorable.

“It’s weird…” No, what was weird was having a whole ass conversation while getting railed from behind, but go off. “I’m not jealous. It feels like I should be, but I shouldn’t be, and I’m not. I just want you too.”

“So, take me.” Excuse the fuck out of you? Where did that come from?

Mike seemed to think the same thing, because he paused, and a curious little whimper escaped him. “What?”

“Mike,” you said, your tone serious, “I want you to fuck me hard.”

“Oh.” He nipped at your earlobe. “I can do that.”

And then, playtime was over. You grabbed his hair and threw your hips back to meet his thrust, his arms snaking around you, holding you in a vice-like grip with nowhere to go. It was raw and passionate, and undeniably hot, until…

“Mike, don’t lick me!”

“Well, what are you going to do about it?” Fuck. You hadn’t thought about that. Vice-like grip. Nowhere to go. And he wasn’t going to let go of you.

“I can think of something,” you growled. A lie. There was nothing you could think of to do to him that wasn’t either really cruel or he wouldn’t enjoy. Unless… “No boobies for you,” you said sternly, making it — hopefully — very clear what you meant.

He picked up on the hint. “You’re not supposed to deny us feeding over petty squabbles,” he helpfully reminded you. As if you’d forgotten that rule.

“No. But I can tell you it’s wrist or bust, Mike.” Shit. Not quite the right moment for that particular expression.

“And I pick ‘bust’,” he laughed, licking your neck. It sent shivers through your entire body. Sometimes, the licking wasn’t really so bad at all…

“Mike!” you warned.

“Okay, okay,” he grumbled, clearly very displeased — and very adorable. From then on, he stuck to squeezing your boobs and nibbling on your neck and shoulder while he kept pounding into you.

“Good boy,” you said in a half-mocking tone — which made it all the more surprising when Mike’s hips stuttered, and he came as if on command.

“Shit,” he muttered barely loud enough for you to catch it. Next, he disappeared. For a moment you were scared he wouldn’t come back, but he appeared next to you on the edge of the bed as if he’d never left the room.

“So,” you said, putting a hand around his shoulders, “I take it you liked that?”

“Babe, please don’t tease me,” he said, something wobbly and confused in his voice. He seemed a little lost.

“Get me a towel, clean this wet mess up, and meet me in my room, okay?” The look in his eyes was a sincere expression of gratitude.

Of course it took him all of two minutes to get the room cleaned up — and, as a rather frustrated Marshall apparently pointed out, half of the hallway. You hadn’t even finished drying your hair when he showed up behind you, wrapping you up in another massive hug.

“Hi,” he sighed before kissing your neck. “Can we cuddle?” Whatever had been keeping him going before had now faded, and he was the regular, puppy-eyed boyfriend radiating the golden retriever energy you were used to. Without saying a word, you wormed your way out of his embrace and scrambled to get under the covers.

“Wanna watch a movie, baby?” you asked, already knowing what the answer would be. Before he even answered you, Mike disappeared for a moment, and returned seconds later with a bunch more pillows in his arms, and your favorite blanket from the living room. You’d always joked with your friends how you stayed with Mike specifically for his nest-building abilities, and although it was an exaggeration that you were with him just for that, it was certainly a factor in keeping you as happy as you were with him. Plus, he was fast. Definite bonus.

“Lock the door,” you said with a wink, “I don’t think we’re going to leave this room any time soon, and I really want you to myself for a bit.” Mike chuckled when you raised your voice on that last bit, making sure everyone in the house had heard you.

“Then we’ll need snacks,” Mike concluded, and without waiting for your reply — which would have been affirmative, because (let’s face it) watching a movie without snacks was just… significantly less awesome than watching a movie with snacks — he disappeared again.

“You and these jellybeans,” you laughed when he returned with a bag of your favorite popcorn, tortilla chips and cheese dip, and a large bag of jellybeans. He definitely wasn’t eating as much as he had been, but you couldn’t exactly say he’d really been kicking the habit. “Door,” you reminded him when he tried to get in bed with you.

“Already locked,” he chuckled, but he walked over to it — slowly, even — nonetheless to show you it was really locked.

“Alright, now get over here!” Never tell a vampire that; the way he slammed into you when he did what you said immediately actually hurt.

He couldn’t sit still; the whole time, Mike was squirming against you anxiously, holding you tighter, his grip slacking again, wriggling, wrapping his legs around you. Not watching the movie for a single second. It was odd. Normally, Mike’s hands would have been exploring whatever bit of skin of yours he could reach — and absolutely some places he couldn’t reach without removing an obstacle like clothing first. This time… None of that.

“Mike you can’t crawl into me, what’s wrong with you today?” you laughed quietly as you stroked your silly boyfriend’s messy dark curls.

“Missed you,” he muttered, pulling you closer again. “I left and then you were angry and now you’re not angry, but you didn’t sleep next to me and I missed you.”

“I’m here now,” you whispered, still stroking his hair, “I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

“Babe,” he whispered after a while — he’d been trying really hard to sit still and watch the movie, but was ultimately very unsuccessful, “I’m really fucking hungry.” There was a tremble to his voice, and it took an encouraging nudge from you for him to move down until his face was level with your boobs. He hesitated.

“It’s okay, I know you want to,” you said. And it was true; you knew he wanted to. You really knew that he really wanted to bite you — and not just for food, but for comfort too. That’s what he was hesitant about. You chuckled softly. “I can feel it, Mike, there’s no need to hide. You’re home, you’re safe… and you’re loved.”

When you smiled down at him, you saw the tears in his eyes as he gently bit down on your boob. He fed slowly, drawing it out as much as he could. Of course you didn’t mind; you felt as amazing as you always did when someone fed on you. And then there was the added bonus of feeling Mike slowly settling down next to you, becoming calmer with every passing second. Some time after you’d watched him close his eyes, you felt his fangs retreat, but his mouth did not leave its post, and you chuckled as you let your own eyes fall shut and quietly enjoyed the sensation.

“I’m—”

You didn’t let him finish his sentence. “Mike, don’t apologize. I wouldn’t have agreed to it if I wasn’t okay with it. It was quite nice, actually.” He quietly smiled up at you before snuggling into your side again, and you felt his desire to be close to you flare up as he did. You wrapped your arms around him as tightly as you could manage and turned your attention back to the movie.

You were lucky to have him — and for the first time you were truly certain you’d never lose him again.

[everybodyshusband]

nothing to help the writer's block than writing a shitty, shitty, no stakes crack fic :)) inspired by @run-of-the-milf's post about the ghouls doing a "most searched questions" video

rated T or M (i'm not sure which but there are sex jokes so...?), 1k words, no warnings apart from the fact that this is so so stupid sdjhf

~

As soon as the red light begins blinking at him softly, Swiss steps out from behind the camera, grinning widely. He gives Cumulus a thumbs up and the ghoulette begins to speak.

“Hi, I’m Cumulus and these are the ghouls from the band Ghost, and we’re here for the Wired Autocomplete Interview!”

“Wait,” Rain interjected. “Are we allowed to call it that if it’s not the official Wired one?” They had in fact conducted an actual interview with papa earlier that day, but it had been a stilted, official one, with all of them standing silently behind Copia as he did all the talking and referred to them by their official Nameless Ghoul titles. They were all excited to do this one together and be as silly as they wanted to, not having to worry about appearances whatsoever.

“Eh, who cares, it’s not as if this one is being posted anywhere,” Swiss argued. “We could fuck on camera and the only place it would go outside of our pack would be Copia’s office computer.”

Aurora’s head snapped up. “We’re gonna fuck on camera?”

“If we’re gonna fuck on camera, then why do we have all these chairs set up?” Dew teased, trying to let the multi ghoulette come to the correct conclusion on her own.

“I dunno…” She looked at him with wide eyes. “Should I have prepped myself or something?”

Mountain scuffed Dew over the back of the head. “Stop teasing her,” he reprimanded, but his eyes were sparkling with mirth as he turned to explain what was actually going on to her and a very concerned looking Aeon.

“I wasn’t!” Dew tried to counter, which only rewarded him another bonk on the head, this time from Cirrus.

“How about you shut up and we start the interview?”

“Great idea, Cir,” Swiss grinned. “Here, dirt boy, catch!” He threw a poster board at Mountain, who fumbled to catch it before it hit the ground.

Mountain shook his head in amusement. “A little warning next time, Swiss?”

“Nah,” the multi ghoul shrugged. “It’s funnier to watch you struggle.”

“Who’s this one for anyway?” Mountain asked.

“Me, I think,” Dew said, reading his name in the search bar. “Go on, ask me my questions, Mounty.”

The earth ghoul sighed. “Fiiiiine. This first one is just your name so…” He peels off the first bit of paper. “Dewdrop ghoul… Hah! Dewdrop ghoul height.”

Swiss cackled from behind the two of them, earning a heavy thwack on the thigh. “How tall exactly are you, Dewy?”

Cumulus tried and failed to suppress a laugh. “What is it the fans say? Two sauce packets tall?”

“You’re all so mean to me!” Dew cried out, but he was suppressing his own tears of laughter.

“It’s okay, Dew,” Rain said soothingly, patting him on the back and making the fire ghoul purr happily under the attention. “I know you’re actually three sauces tall.” The satisfied smirk on Rain’s face paired with Dew’s reaction was well worth the lecture (read: gentle chastising) they all knew they’d be getting from Copia about the noise.

“Oh, fuck you!” Dew screeched. “I fuckin’ hate this game…”

“You don’t wanna use this chance to tell us your real height?” Aeon asked, curiously.

“I’m a demon from Hell,” Dew mumbled, still pissed off. “I don’t have to tell you shit.”

“It’s because he knows he’s short,” Swiss stage-whispered into Aeon’s ear, making sure the entire pack could hear.

“How about we move onto the next one before Dew burns the Abbey down?” Mountain teased. “Dewdrop ghoul… Hands. Why are people so obsessed with your hands, Dew?”

“Because they’re fucking hot,” Aeon, Cirrus and Rain murmured in perfect unison.

“...Before anyone gets too horny,” Dew said. “Let’s move on. What’s next?”

“Swiss and Sodo dick grab,” Mountain read off the card. “And the next one down is also: Dewdrop and Swiss Watcher in the Sky.”

“What can I say,” Swiss smirked. “The people love me grabbing the little guy.” He punctuated his statement by reaching a hand forward and rubbing his hand over Dew’s chest possessively, winking at the camera. On Dew’s other side, Aeon blushed.

“What did I just say about getting too horny, Swiss?” Dew shook his head, laughing. “Let go of me, heathen. We’ve still got questions to answer.” He brushed Swiss’ hand off of him. “Any more for me, Mount?”

“Don’t think so,” the earth ghoul replied. “Next board please?” Rain chucked him the next one and Mountain immediately laughed out loud as he peeled the first bit of paper off. “Cardinal Copia gay,” he read out, causing the entire pack to also burst out laughing.

“Well, he definitely wasn’t gay last night,” Cumulus smirked.

“Oh really?” Rain asked. “He was for me last week…”

They both dissolved into laughter and turned their heads towards each other, no doubt exchanging notes about their Papa’s preferences in the bedroom.

“Moving on…” Mountain said. “The next one is… Rain and Dewdrop choking.”

“Oh God,” Rain said, closing his eyes and tipping his head back.

“Good one, Dew,” Aurora teased. “You’ve got him so worked up about even the idea of your choking stunt onstage that he’s forgotten he works for a Satanic Ministry.” She turned to Rain and flicked his head back up. “God’s not here, Rainy.”

“...Aaaaand on that note,” Cumulus said, clapping her hands together and grinning, struggling to contain her laughter. “We’ll stop there!”

Aeon wasn’t not so lucky in the containing laughter department, having thrown his head back and cackled enough to have fallen off his chair with an oof.

“Okay, uhhh,” Cumulus started again. “Thank you for watching our interview–”

“Even though the only people who are going to watch it will be us,” Aurora interrupted.

“–And hopefully one day we’ll be back to answer more questions,” the air ghoulette finished. “Goodbye!”

Dew lunged at Swiss for making another short joke, teeth bared. The camera fell over as he collided with the multi ghoul and the screen went black.

[madeliefkrans]

like a deer in the headlights of love

first skippy fic!! includes:

selfish shima bc it’s what he deserves to be for ONCE

holy deer

sticky dango

silly teenagers in love

prior to this fic shima realised he’s head over heels for mitsumi.

inspired by chapter 76 of fruits basket!! finished the series a few weeks ago (yes i’m very late and blessed to experience fruits basket for the first time)

fandom: skip to loafer type: fluff, idiots in love pairing: mitsumi iwakura x sousuke shima pov: shima's word count: 1,662 on ao3 as well

summary: when sousuke and mitsume walk through nara park during their school trip, sousuke realises he needs confess his feelings for her.

Somehow Sousuke lost his friends. Or perhaps Yamada decided to parade his girlfriend around the Isuien garden, Mukai and Egashira wanted to catch each other’s glances in one of the temples, and Kurume agreed to let Murashige braid her hair on a bench. In any case, Mitsumi and Sousuke are alone. Alone, yet surrounded by the thousand deer that unofficially own Nara Park.

Their school trip is in full progress. No one seemed to be more excited to visit Nara than Mitsumi; she made a list of all attractions she wanted to visit and all the food specialties she wanted to try. It was adorable.

Sousuke watches as Mitsumi crouches to let a deer nibble at the last of her rice crackers. Once in a while she turns her face to look up at Sousuke, standing next to her, her eyes full of excitement and disbelief. Her smile is contagious.

A gentle breeze rustles the red and yellow leaves of the surrounding trees, causing some to fall on the grass. The delicate munching of the deer is oddly relaxing to listen to. But Sousuke knows that Mitsumi’s presence is what truly calms him in this moment.

The deer suddenly decides it’s satisfied and struts away. Mitsumi stands up, patting her skirt to remove any lingering crumbs.

“Do you want me to lure it back? I have some crackers left.” Sousuke reaches for the pocket in his school blazer.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Mitsumi shakes her head gently. “It’s free to go as it pleases.”

Her words echo in his mind. Free to go.

Mitsumi adjusts her backpack and begins to follow the path ahead, carefree, determined, turning her back on Shima. His eyes linger on her figure, cast in a glow by the autumn sun. Each of her steps brings her further into the unknown. He’s captivated by her. She’s free to go where she wants.

His head is buzzing with the rustling whispers that echo through his mind, growing louder and louder. Uncertainty swirls around, caught by the breeze. Two questions linger in the air. Does that mean she’ll slip away? Does that mean I’ll get left behind?

Shima reaches out and grabs her sleeve, close to her wrist. Without thinking, he closes his fingers around the fabric. Mitsumi halts abruptly, and turns around, startled. He can’t make himself meet her gaze. He can feel her eyes on his face, then they drop to where he’s still clutching her sleeve.

“Eh, what’s wrong, Shima-kun?”

His heart drums loudly in his ears. He tries to remember the words of encouragement from Mukai, Chris, even some from Egashira. Impossible in this moment, because Mitsumi occupies every corner of this thoughts, taking up his mind and body. Realising his feelings for her had felt like blazing spotlights on his entire being. The sensation lingered persistently.

Every smile, frown, and sigh from Mitsumi makes him feel like a light flicks on inside. And another, and another. It leaves him feeling exposed in a way he’s never experienced before. Still, the terror of this vulnerability dissolves by the feeling that he cannot, and will not, retreat into the shadows of the wings. The love he feels for her illuminates everything, forcing him to confront his past, acknowledge his present and, for the first time, contemplate his future. He never wants to let her go.

He needs to tell her how he feels. Even if it’s only to her sleeve.

“I love you.”

A beat. His confession sticks in the air. Then, “But we have to get dango.”

Sousuke’s eyes snap up, a puzzled frown forming on his face. Mitsumi is blushing. Hard. Her fingers brush the skin on his wrist.

Nope. This isn’t part of the plan. He realises now that he never imagined what would happen beyond saying how he feels. How is he supposed to act if she blushes like that, looks at him like that, touches him like that?

He can’t handle this.

So he releases his grip, spins on his shoes and makes a beeline for the other direction of the path.

“Shima-kun?!” He hears Mitsumi calling after him, but her voice sounds far away already.

Sousuke doesn’t even know where he’s going. Deer raise their necks, heads stacked like dango between the trees, and keep a watchful eye as he darts by. The toro seem to lower their lanterns and chuckle at his display of cowardice.

He hears Mitsumi’s panting behind him. And suddenly, he remembers the first day they met. With the roles reversed, since it was him chasing her that spring morning. He remembers the sheer determination on her face as she sprung back to her feet after she fell face flat on the concrete road. How her conviction was infectious, inspiring. Is she making a similar face right now?

He slows his pace. Until he comes to a stop, and Mitsumi catches up and grabs his sleeve. He hears her coughing and wheezing. 

“Shima-kun, please don’t run away,” she pleads when she has regained her breath a bit. “My body can’t take it.”

Sousuke still faces the other way. The path they’re on is quiet and lined with rows of toro on both sides, covered with shades of moss. Must be soft. Perhaps he can hide under the green cushions when this conversation is over. Deer stand between the stone lanterns, curiously looking on.

“What do you think of me?” Shima asks her.

“You're Shima-kun,” Mitsumi replies simply, taking a step closer. “You're kind, reserved, always considerate of others.”

Heat rushes to his cheeks in frustration and he swirls around. “You’re wrong!” Mitsumi’s eyes widen by his exclamation. She lets go of his blazer. He balls his fists, averting his gaze again. “I’m only thinking about myself right now because I know you don’t feel the same way you did last spring.”

How can she say he’s kind when he was never genuine. He was only accommodating so people wouldn’t get too close. All his actions were calculated, self-serving mechanisms to safeguard himself emotionally. He was polite in the most selfish way possible.

“You’re right, I don’t.” Mitsumi’s admission surprises him. He relaxes his hands. That’s it then. This is the part where she rejects him, tries to reassure him that it won’t affect their friendship, smiles encouragingly. He builds up the courage to look into her eyes.

When he does, it’s not compassion he reads in her expression, but determination. He doesn’t understand.

“Yes, those feelings changed,” Mitsumi continues, steady, “but don’t assume I ever stopped loving you! My feelings for you only grew deeper!”

Her words hit him. Hard. Her face is open, a blush covers her cheeks, neck. Her gaze intense. This is Mitsumi’s affection, laid bare. He’s locked in place.

“Wh- What?” Sousuke stammers, perplexed.

Mitsumi huffs. “Is that so hard for you to accept?”

“That’s not it,” Sousuke blurts. He feels like mirroring her pouting. “I’m just… processing.”

But there’s not much time for that. They are only guests on this sacred ground, after all. They simply forgot there’s a whole world out there. So when a deer butts into Mitsumi’s back, possibly smelling the rice crackers on her skirt, it startles both of them more than would be expected during a walk around Nara Park. She tips forward, arms flailing. The deer already moved past. In a split second, Sousuke reaches out to her, catching her in one of his arms. Her hands, arms collide with his chest.

Crisis averted. But at what cost?

Because now his arm is around her waist, her hands are clutching the lapels of his blazer, and her face is closer than ever. Her eyes are wide, her blush deepens even more. Breath hitches in his throat. He can’t look away.

Neither of them let go.

Mitsumi turns her gaze to her hands on his chest. Sousuke catches a whiff of her floral shampoo. Did she always smell this good?

“Since when?” Her voice barely above a whisper.

Sousuke considers his words.

“When I realised my feelings, they had already been there for quite some time,” he admits. He feels Mitsumi’s hands clutch on the blue fabric. “After we tried dating for a bit, it was as if I couldn’t go back to my old ways. Something changed. You caused that.”

Mitsumi looks up, eyes fierce. “I didn’t do anything. Don’t give out credit when you should give it to yourself.”

Sousuke gulps, feeling the weight of her words and her proximity. “Okay.”

Her expression softens again. She’s quiet for a bit.

“Do you…” Mitsumi carefully voices the words, “want to start dating again?”

He cherishes her so. He pulls her the tiniest bit closer with his arm. She lets him. His answer is simple. “Yes. I want to.”

She beams up at him, causing the warmth in his chest to stretch on and on. She releases one of the lapels of his blazer. Fingertip by fingertip, spark by spark, she lays her hand on his cheek. Leaning into her touch, he closes his eyes, surrendering to the sensation. He feels utterly and completely content under Mitsumi’s affection.

“Dad, look at those people! Are they magicians?” Sousuke’s eyes fly open as he lets go of Mitsumi reflexively. In that same split second, Mitsumi withdraws her hand and catches sight of the excited kid pointing. Pointing at them and circle of curious deer they somehow attracted. Slowly blinking with their enormous lashes. 

Mitsumi is overjoyed, doesn’t know where to look. She tugs on his blazer. “They’re so cute!!!”

Sousuke grins at her enthusiasm. He glances around, then lingers on her face. He’s so happy he got to meet her. “Yes, very cute.”

Mitsumi grins at him. She slips her hand into his.

“Let’s get some more crackers,” Mitsumi suggests.

“And dango.”

Mitsumi laughs, giddy. The tips of her ears tinged with a rosy hue. His are probably too. Matching the fiery colours of the ancient tries surrounding them.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Can I please get a Daemon and your daughter from "a princess is born" in which to her father's pride and her mother's utter despair, she claims a wild dragon? (just a Dad!Daemon with some fluffy and maybe kinda funny)

I hope this satisfies!

A dragon is not a slave

Pairing: Daemon x Fem. Reader (Summer Isles wifey) x Baela (their daughter.)

Summary: Baela, yours and Daemon’s child, has reached a point in her life where she can finally claim a dragon. However, it is not the type of dragon everyone would have expected her to claim.

Warnings: Aegon being a loathsome cad (bigly, I might add) | Drinking | Drunkenness

Themes: Some minor angst | Soft | Fluff

Author’s notes: I’ve used Gods of the freehold for deities in this story, not the Seven. Also, in this entire line of stories, Aemond never lost his eye to Lucerys, but there is constant conflict between him and his brother Aegon, and unlike their father and uncle, there is no love between them.

Word count: 4.2K words

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It began as all such tales begin.

With a stormy night and a story.

Viserys, king of all Westeros, visited Dragonstone, to spend time with his daughter, his brother, and their families.

The king was frail now, close to meeting his makers. Viserys had to be taken about in a special wheel chair, and the journey to Dragonstone tired him. Still, he insisted on it, as everyone believed he would not live for long and he wanted to spend time with his brother and daughter before Balerion claimed the king’s soul for his own.

It was after supper, and the children all asked their grandsire to talk to them about the dragons, and how they were finally moved to the Stepstones.

"It was the Maesters, you see," Viserys said, as the rest gathered around in a circle and listened. "They came up with the idea of the dragon pits, as the dragons would grow weak and stunted when denied unfettered freedom. They wanted to weaken our family, to rid Westeros of magic and--"

Joff cut his grandfather off with, "But why would they want to do that? Rid the realm of magic?"

"Because magic eludes them, refuses to heed their calls," said Daemon, on his brother’s behalf. "They envy our dragon riders and our dragon dreamers, they envy the Northerners for their green seers and wargs. They claim to seek magic, but they don’t respect it, and as such, magic always eludes their grasp."

You were content to sit next to Daemon on the sofa. "Is this why you moved the dragons to the Stepstones?"

"Yes, good sister," Viserys said, taking a careful sip of his drink, which contained herbs to relieve his pain. "After the last hatchling grew no bigger than a misshapen dog, I had my spies dig around and find out what the Maesters were upto. All the eggs and the remaining dragons were moved to the Stepstones, and now, the keepers tell me, they are all thriving."

"What about the wild dragons, uncle?" asked Baela. "Are they still here?"

"Still here and keeping to themselves, thank the Gods," said Viserys. "Well, sheep stealer and grey ghost no one would mind, but Cannibal…"

Rhaenyra had to stop Joff and Visenya from throwing grapes at each other. "He turned fifty, didn’t he?"

"And killed twelve would-be dragon riders during those fifty years," Viserys mumbled. "Twelve victims. Brave souls all of them, thinking they could subdue the beast. And your father," he turned to Baela, "Would have been thirteenth because of m--"

"My recklessness to prove myself to the others," Daemon cut him off quickly.

Viserys turned to him, his eyes glistening. "You shouldn’t have to do it," he said, still ashamed that his recklessness nearly ended his brother’s life.

Daemon held no malice or anger for what happened. It was a decision he’d gladly make again, for anyone he loved. "I want to. Let us leave it at that, eh?"

The rest looked at them both, thoroughly confused. You held your tongue, for it was not your tale to tell. No one besides you knew the truth of what happened, how Viserys went looking for Cannibal, how Daemon had to pull him out of the way before being burned himself. You promised to let Daemon take this secret to the grave, in order to protect his brother.

Baela came over to her father, making herself comfortable on the armrest next to him.  "But why won’t Cannibal yield, aba? They say he was born in the pits before flying off after trying to kill his first rider, so why won’t he accept one?"

Daemon brushed back his daughter’s hair. "Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor. And besides, sometimes a dragon will wait till they find a rider worthy of them. At least, that’s how some of the stories go."

"Which is why they must be treated with the utmost respect, yes?" Viserys looked into the eyes of everyone who had gathered. "Dragons are not lap dogs, is that understood?"

A grape flew in a perfect arc and hit Laenor neatly on the nose. "My boys are all grown men," he said, rolling his eyes when Joff looked at him and giggled. "And with families of their own, yet they still insist on acting like children."

"What are children for, papa, but to test their parents?" Jacaerys said with a mischievous grin.

"Gods save us," Laenor said as he stood up and clapped his hands. "Right. It’s late, and we all need to rest. Big day tomorrow."

You and Daemon looked at Baela and smiled. On the morrow, she would turn thirteen, and after that, she would be allowed to claim a dragon for her own.

…………

Baela opened her eyes long before the sun had risen.

She carefully dressed herself and tiptoed her way to the kitchens.

Baela looked around to make sure no one was up and about. The cooks and maids were rubbing the sleep out of their eyes and had all sat down to their breakfast. Their attention was elsewhere, and Baela took her chance.

She scurried over to the butcher’s larder, and carefully picked out a few cuts of meat that were kept aside for the dragons. Even dragons, despite their fearful nature, liked their treats, and their riders would often indulge them with the castoffs.

Baela chucked everything into a large bag before tiptoeing again, this time out of the fortress.

The island was shrouded in mist, and cold. So very cold. Baela, determined as ever, pulled her cloak tight and walked to the far side of the island, where the wild dragons nested. The Dragon Mound.

After listening to her uncle’s tales, Baela was curious to see if she could claim a wild dragon for herself, instead of waiting for years for a tame dragon to form a proper bond with her. She had to be careful, for while her father might tolerate such a scheme, her mother, on the other hand, would not.

She couldn’t blame you, as you had grown up on tales of the freehold and what happened when Valyrians tried to claim wild dragons that refused to yield. Still, she was determined to see this through. After all, she was your daughter as well as her father's. She would not let either side down by giving in so easily. Baela fought back her growing fear and exhaustion and pushed on. 

The hike was hard, and the climb down to the caves was just as hard. Baela took great care to avoid cutting herself and giving the game away. The bag grew heavy and started to smell. Baela still pressed on until she found a cave that had bones scattered all over the entrance.

They were all too charred and burned to be distinguished as human or beast. It could not be human, she decided, as the keepers would have warned the others if people started to go missing. This must be the cave of Sheep Steeler, or the shy Grey Ghost. Baela, relieved, set her bag down, upending it and emptying it of all contents. She then walked backward and turned away from the entrance.

At first, she heard nothing, felt nothing. The minutes passed, and the sun started to rise. Baela would have to leave soon, before her absence was noticed and someone came looking for her.

The seconds ticked away, and then there was a deep thump.

Then, another deep thump.

The air grew warmer, and she heard a deep huff. Baela gulped and kept perfectly still. She heard gravel crunching, of bones splintering and shattering. She heard another huff, a snarl, this time in her direction. She gulped again, but kept perfectly still, not wanting to startle the beast with sudden movements.

The air suddenly grew cool again, and when Baela turned, she saw that her offering of meat had been accepted. Gingerly, she tiptoed her way to the cave entrance. There was nothing there, but she was sure a dragon was deep within the cave, watching her while shrouded in darkness. Not wanting to test her luck, Baela picked up her bag and walked away again.

When she did, a pair of large eyes flew open from within the cave and gleamed wickedly in the darkness.

…………

The feast went ahead as planned.

The mood was somewhat dampened, of course, when Viserys’ children turned up. Sweet-natured Helaena was always welcomed, and her brothers—well, that was another prospect altogether.

Aemond was always angry with his brother, and Aegon reciprocated his brother’s feelings. The two of them could never be left alone for long before they started to tear chunks out of each other. Still, everyone tried to keep the brothers apart for this day, for Baela’s sake.

While Baela and her cousins tried to be nice to Aemond, Aegon was another prospect altogether, and the others made it a point to keep her and Visenya well away from him. For once, however, Aegon behaved, but everyone kept a watchful eye on him.

That night’s revelry went ahead without incident, although Aegon was determined to drink himself into a stupor. You leaned over to Daemon and whispered in the language of your people, "Do you think we should cut him off?"

And Daemon, who had become fluent in your people's language after learning it, replied, "You'll have an easier time bonding with Vermithor than any of us would in stopping the future king. Leave him be, darling. Perhaps if he drinks enough, he won’t be a bother to anyone."

You sighed but accepted your husband’s counsel. And Daemon was right. You’d have an easier time bonding with the Bronze Fury than getting Aegon to stop drinking.

Daemon and you both gave toasts in honour of your daughter’s thirteenth birthday. "To the next dragon rider!" Daemon said cheerfully, and the rest roared in approval.

Laenor looked up from his meal. "Have you decided yet on what dragon to claim?"

Baela kept her tone perfectly neutral. She wanted no one to find out she was trying to claim a wild dragon. "I haven’t yet, uncle." She turned to her food, her hands trembling when she remembered the long trek, the bones crunching, and the beast sniffing at her back. "To be honest, I cannot actually make up my mind."

Five healthy dragons have hatched, and two more were waiting for riders. "You have plenty of time, sweetheart," you said over your wine. "Take all the time you need to decide."

Baela speared a new potato and smiled like anything. She had already decided, but she was certain no one was going to like it once the truth came out. Aegon replied by burping loudly and falling back into his chair, his mouth half open in an ugly snore. "And the green will yield to the purple,” Helaena mumbled to no one in particular.

Aegon nearly fell out of his chair and had to be physically carried to bed, but at least he was out and not creating a scene. Everyone relaxed, and conversation flowed more freely.  

"I hear you are to wed, uncle?" Visenya addressed her uncle. "Who is the lucky woman?"

"A Baratheon," mumbled Aemond. "Her name is Alys."

You arched a brow. "This does not make you happy?"

"No, princess y/n," Aemond moderated his tone after catching his uncle's warning glare. "She is not what I would have chosen for a bride, but alas, everyone else insists. I must wed the lady before the moon is out."

"I hear Alys is very nice." Baela and Visenya had been debating what to have for dessert. Candied almonds or sugar plums? In the end, they settled on a little bit of both. "Like Helaena," added Visenya. "So she can’t be all that bad."

Aemond snorted. "I doubt it."

Baela exchanged a look with her cousin but chose not to respond. You leaned over to Daemon, switching to your native language again. "What was that all about?"

Daemon had already formed some suspicions over the years, and Alicent's insisting her second son marry and leave the nest served to strengthen them. "I’ll tell you when we're in bed."

You nodded and listened as Laenor changed the subject. The rest of the feast went on pleasantly for everyone.

…………

Baela woke up the next morning, as early as the day before, and got started on her new ritual.

She would sneak off into the kitchens, and then sneak out again with cast-off cuts of cooked meat. She would make the trek to the other side of the island, carefully making her way down to the caves, not stopping until she found the one she was looking for. Baela would take a few steps back and turn away from the cave, leaving the meat where it was the day before.

And like yesterday, she would hear one deep thump, then another. The air would grow warm. Something would sniff at the meat, then eat it. That same something would then sniff and snarl at her.

And so it went on, day after day after day, until Baela walked out of the kitchens one morning, certain that no one would notice, only to run into her father.

Daemon simply stood there, arms across his chest. "And what, pray tell, are you up to?"

"I…" Baela dropped the bag, embarrassed with herself for getting caught. "I’m off for a walk, aba."

"Hmmph." Daemon went over to her bag and opened it. His nose crinkled a little at the smell, and his eyes went wide when he recognized what the contents were. "Treats for dragons, yes?" He gave her a questioning look. "But you don't have a dragon, at least not yet. And all the unclaimed dragons are on the Stepstones. So, why would you need this meat?"

Baela gulped, tried to come up with an excuse. "I…. I…"

Daemon’s lips quirked up, his eyes lighting up with wicked humour. "Offerings to the old gods?"

"I… I..."

"You do know the Gods of Valyria demand live sacrifices, yes?"

Baela sputtered.

"Preferably unblemished sheep, or goat. Even chicken would do in a pinch." Daemon tried hard to look serious. "But I suppose day-old cooked beef would do."

Baela groaned in defeat.

"Sheep Steeler?"

She shook her head, but refused to raise it. Daemon curled a finger under his daughter’s chin and tilted it up. "Grey Ghost then?"

Baela managed a meek yes, much to her father’s relief. "Alright. I won’t tell your mother about this. But you must come to me if you want to go further than feeding Grey Ghost. Do you understand me?"

"I will." Baela threw her arms around her father in gratitude. "Thank you, aba."

Daemon chuckled, but waited till his daughter had walked far enough before following her. He kept out of sight, impressed by the paths his child took, how she carefully climbed down to the caves. He tried to peer over the stones, but the dragon, whatever it was, was hidden by surrounding boulders. Daemon wouldn’t budge until Baela picked up her bag to leave.

And one fine day, she heard no low snarl.

She would only hear the dragon take a deep sniff, and huff in her direction. She’d try talking to it, all while keeping her back to it. Baela swore it listened.

Once, she thought she heard what sounded like a gentle purr. She rushed back home, to talk to her father about it.

Daemon, having heard it himself after having followed her yet again, was wondering how long it would take for this to happen. "He likes you," he said, pleased as punch. If everything went according to plan, his child would be the first in their family’s entire history to claim a wild dragon. "Dragons only purr if they’re attached to one person, bonded to them, and if a wild dragon does that, then it means—"

"It means what?"

Daemon quickly stood up. "Sweetheart," he said as you stood there, eyes wide and mouth half open in surprise. "We…"

"Are talking about a wild dragon, yes?" you turned to your daughter, who in turn had looked away. "Really, bee? A wild dragon?" You turn on Daemon next. "How could you?"

Daemon tried to reason with you. "Sweetheart, we--"

"A wild dragon, husband!" you said in despair. "How can you even encourage such a thing?"

Daemon gestured for Baela to leave, and she did, wasting no time to quit the room.

"Sweetheart," Daemon guided you to a chair, urged you to sit. "Please, listen to me. Baela has been careful."

"I--" Daemon held up a hand to cut you off.

"Our daughter knows what she's doing," he said as he crouched in front of you, taking your hands in his. "I’ve been following her, and I think she may have successfully formed a bond with Grey Ghost. He’s purring. I’ve heard it. That’s a very good sign."

You still thought it was a very bad idea. "She’s our child," you sniffled as tears pooled around your eyes. "Our baby, and if anything happens to her, I…"

"Sweetheart, Baela, is tougher and smarter than the both of us." Daemon wiped your eyes, not wanting to show that he too was secretly worried. "She will be fine, I’m sure of it. No harm has come to her so far. She will be fine. Our daughter will be fine."

You managed a smile for him, your heart feeling like it was being squeezed the entire time.

And as for Baela, she went for a walk with her cousin to clear her head and to try and stamp out the guilt she was feeling, for going against your wishes to not bond with a wild dragon.

They had been talking of Visenya’s own plans for her sixteenth birthday, when Aegon came upon them near a cliff on the far side of the island, close to the Dragon Mound, and the caves beneath it. He was surly this morning, and bored. He looked at them as if they were fresh prey. And his feared uncle was nowhere in sight.

"Ladies," he crooned cloyingly sweet. "How are we this morning?"

"Fine, my prince," Baela mumbled as she and Visenya dipped to curtsy. "And how are you? Are you enjoying life on the island so far?"

Aegon was bored out of his wits, and he said so. Dragonstone was dreary, even though it was his seat as crown prince. The air was always cold and damp and salty, the company wanting. And there were no pleasure houses in sight. "Have either of you been? To a pleasure house, I mean?"

Visenya slipped her hand into her cousin’s, wondering if someone would hear if one of them screamed. "No, my prince," she said. "I’ve heard my brother’s talk, but that was from a time before they were wed."

"Yes," Aegon sneered. "Your mother raised three bores for sons. Perhaps I should take the both of you, when you next visit the Red Keep."

Baela stiffened. "That is not necessary, my prince. Besides," she swallowed, her eyes darting towards the fortress. "It would be most improper, for ladies to visit a pleasure house."

"Scandalous, yes?" Aegon sneered again, only this time in a way that made both girls very uncomfortable. "But you needn’t worry. I will take you. The both of you."

"You cannot."

"I am the crown prince! I can do what I like.!Now come. I could do with some company."

"Actually," both Baela and Visenya hesitated. They remembered the warnings, to not be alone around the crown prince. "We would stay here, my prince." Baela could feel fear burning a hole in her gut. She cursed herself, for not asking Jace or Luke to accompany them.

When Aegon took a step towards them, the girls took a step back. "Come with me," he hissed at them, his eyes blazing with fury. "That’s an order."

Visenya shook her head. "No, your grace."

"Come with me, you pathetic chits!" Aegon took another step toward them. "Now!"

Thump.

The cliff face shook, as if something big was scaling it. Aegon blanched. "What fuck is going on?"

Thump.

This time, they all jumped, and backed away from the edge of the cliff. There was a snarl, followed by something rumbling. The cliff face kept shaking, as whatever it was that snarled was making its way closer to them. The air warmed up like a warm summer day. It grew warmer and warmer, and the source of all of it made its presence known.

Gods be good, thought Baela, as she pulled her cousin back with her. It’s him.

A body that was as black as the darkest pits and green eyes that seemed to spit fire appeared before them. The beast opened its terrifying maw, its roar threatening to break the very earth they stood on. It unfurled its wings and roared again, making them shrink from it. Its hot breath felt like a furnace, and they huddled in fear, cowering before it. And then, the beast went silent and inched forward, sniffing at the air around them.

It snarled around Aegon, as if in warning. It then turned its head toward the girls, sniffing and sniffing. Visenya it ignored, and Baela?

She was rewarded with a soft huff, something that almost sounded like a purr. Visenya’s eyes went wide in awe. "He likes you," she whispered. "Cannibal actually likes you."

And he was the one she had been feeding all this time, not Grey Ghost. Oh, her mother was going to lose it, Baela was certain.

But there was nothing you or anyone could have done, at any rate. A bond had already been formed, and if the tales were true, a bond could never be broken, not until the dragon or rider died. "You must ride." Visenya pushed her cousin forward. "Do it. The first flight seals the bond."

Baela looked at her cousin like she had sprouted a thousand eyes all at once. "Do it," Visenya urged, when they heard raised voices. Others were rushing towards them. "Claim him, or you might never get another chance if he flies off again."

Baela took a deep breath and said the first command that came to mind. Cannibal had once heard commands in the pit, but will he heed them after so many decades of running wild? "Māzīs," she said, inching forward.

The dragon tilted his head, as if listening. This time, Baela put steel in her voice. Dragons could smell fear and disrespect and would never respond to either. "Māzīs," she said more firmly.

This time, the dragon inched his way towards her, lowering his head as if to show he was no threat. When voices grew louder, he turned to the keepers rushing towards him and roared, forcing them back.

"Lykirī," Baela said sharply, and Cannibal turned his attention back to her. "Dohaerās, Cannibal."

Cannibal looked at her, studying her. What he did next shocked everyone. He lowered a shoulder to the ground, painfully and uncomfortably low for him, but low enough so Baela could climb him easily. When she struggled to reach his neck, he rolled his shoulders to push her up. She had to hold on with a squeal. Baela then came up with the next command. "Sōvētēs."

He took one fast step after another, building momentum. Baela had to grab onto one of his neck horns for more support. The edge of the cliff neared, and when his wings unfurled, she closed her eyes, thinking that this was the end.

Only it was not.

Daemon reached the cliff edge, a smile tugging at his lips, his chest filling with pride as dragon and rider soared overhead. Cannibal circled the fortress once, then twice, then dipped to the harbour, causing terrified workers and sailors to duck in fright when his shadow loomed over their ships. He took off into the clouds next, and Baela was sorely tempted to let go, to see if she could touch one. The lack of a proper saddle and reins stopped her from doing it.

Her thighs ached and her palms bled from holding so tight. Still she endured, believing the price was worth it. When they came back to the cliffs, Baela had been both laughing and crying at the same time, so overawed was she by the experience. When Cannibal landed, he lowered his shoulder to the earth again, so she could get off. "You've ruined horses for me,” she mumbled as she tried to catch her breath. “Did you know that?"

The dragon’s chest rumbled, as if he understood.

Baela gulped when her father walked towards her, and she steeled herself for the inevitable scolding. Oh, Daemon was nothing but fiercely proud, but he still had to chide his daughter for giving him such a fright. And as for you?

You lectured your daughter thoroughly for her recklessness, but secretly, you were proud too. Of course, you wanted your daughter to stew a little before you finally admitted to it. Daemon told his brother, and Viserys broke out into the biggest smile he had ever seen. "So he has finally come back to us," Viserys was as proud as his brother. "And it took your daughter to make it happen."  

Translations:

Māzīs – Come

Lykirī :Calm

Dohaerās: Serve

Sōvētēs – Fly