#on my hands and knees thanking whoever animated this

[machinerot]

alright i couldn't find any posts showing this idle animation and needed it on my blog

[monsterfuckerconfessions]

Imagining being locked into a pillory for several days as punishment for some minor indiscretion, the town I live in both conservative and authoritarian and the church ruling with an iron fist that is tolerated due to the fear of the 'demons' in the forest. I am clamped into heavy wooden blocks at the wrists and neck and cannot see anything behind me.

During the day the townsfolk largely look away, a few throwing small stones or refuse at me from a distance. One or two bolder types come close enough to beat me with hard, painful strokes with their cane or riding crop.

At night, though, I feel movement behind me and my dress being pushed up around my waist, and though I expected this I still beg them to reconsider. It is not a large town, whoever this is I know them and I cannot bear the shame. An answer comes as a growl; that, I did not expect. I am locked tight into the blocks and cannot get away when I feel the clawed hands on me, when I feel the too-large, ridged and knotted cock burying itself in me. I can't see what it is. I only know it cannot be human.

It fucks me roughly but less brutal than I expect, then I feel it swell and lock inside me, hours of midnight silence to follow broken only by my ragged breathing and the occasional low growl. It pulls out of me a little before the sun starts to rise. I can hear it begin to pad away, and without thinking, exhausted and shaking, I thank it out loud for not killing me. After all, that is what everyone says demons do.

It comes back the next night. Well, something like it does. Maybe there's more than one of them.

It - or they - come back and mount me each night, breeding me like the trapped animal I am. I never see them. But in the pitch black of night I occasionally feel half a piece of fresh, sweet fruit stuffed into my mouth, or a dribble of water. And during the day the cruel treatment ebbs, people's enthusiasm dimmed by a new wave of supernatural attacks. Savage, and unpredictable. Or so they say, but their glances flicker scared in my direction. A pattern they do not want to see; anyone who came close and beat me has not survived the night.

When I am released from the pillory I wait a few days to allay suspicion then disappear in the night with everything I need in a small satchel. I get out into the dark forest, where the demons live, and in the soft glow of sunset I strip naked and drop to my knees, lowering my body to the ground and my hips high, legs parted. I want them to come. I want them to take me. I want to see them. I want to thank them.

.

[bellarkeselection]

for cole walter, could you do one where reader replaces jackie (so her fam died and she moved in with the walter’s) and cole doesn’t really like her. one day she gets a cold, and cole takes care of her (begrudgingly) and realizes she isn’t so bad 🫶🏼🥹

Cole Walter Does Care

Tag list- send me an ask to be added @cognacdelights @connieisthesun

I rolled over in my bed and felt a headache coming on the second I woke up which really sucked. Slowly sitting up I thought I would feel better that only seemed to make it worse. My nose was beginning to get stuffy and my throat felt dry. Footsteps came from the hallway and I heard whoever it was pause outside my door. “Hey Y/n, my mom is making breakfast. Woah you don’t look too good.”

“Thanks Alex - uh I didn’t know that.” I started coughing and then reached over needing to blow my nose into some tissues.

He entered my room with a sad expression. “I can get my mom to check you out if you want.”

“Please do.” I whimpered, sounding so helpless tugging the covers back over my chest.

He nodded, rushing out of the room and going downstairs to go get her. “On it, Y/n.” Once he was gone I yanked the coves over my head screaming and coughing into my blankets.

“Sounds like there’s a dying angry animal in here. Oh no sorry it’s just you Y/n.” I noticed the voice of Cole who when I peaked my head above the blanket saw that he was leaning in my doorway.

Grumbling under my breath I really wasn’t in the mood for his teasing. “Go away Cole. I’m not feeling good and you’ll just make it worse.”

“Ah now I’m offended since most people find my company to be quite enjoyable.” He walked into my bedroom sitting down on the side of my bed moving the cover down from my eyes so he could see some of my face.

“Well I d-don’t-“ I attempted to say but another coughing fit had to hit me right before his mother and Alex came back into my bedroom.

Catherine sat down and pushed Cole off the bed, putting a hand to my forehead. “Oh you're burning up. You'll just have to stay in bed today and miss the fair.”

“Okay Skylar and Tara won't be happy.” I responded in a tired breath.

She shakes her head eyeing her older son. “I'm sure they'll understand honey. Cole, I need you to stay and take care of her.”

“What the hell!” He raised his voice, accidentally cursing at his mother.

I sat upright on the pillows but had a coughing fit as a result. “No! He doesn't need to be here…”

“This is not up for discussion. Y/n you are really sick and Cole you will be staying home to take care of her. Because you're grounded after we found out you were sneaking girls out of the house. Come on, Alex.” She got to her feet and she left with Alex following her downstairs leaving us alone in my bedroom together.

Laying my head back down on the pillows I yanked the covers over my head screaming into it until Cole made a comment. “Don't think I'm happy about this either.”

“Oh sure. I'm sorry my illness prevented you from hooking up with Erin or Olivia or Paige!” I snapped at him.

His green eyes glared at me. “You don't have the right to judge my life.”

“Neither do you about me then!” I growled turning my back towards him.

Cole watched me for a little while hearing me doze off for a few hours of sleep. He sure found you annoying at times but there was something about you that he liked. It was the fact that you fought with him over the most ridiculous stuff. Most girls just fell at his beck and call except you. He walked around the room noticing a notebook laying on the desk. “Y/n's diary…hmm. I can't deny that I may have feelings for Cole even though he drives me nuts.” He debated reading it but when he flipped to one of the middle he heard you groan waking up.

“Cole, I'm gonna puke.” I moaned, struggling to get out from under the blankets.

He dropped the book rushing over to me, he put one arm underneath my shoulder and the other under the back of my knees carrying me through the door and across to the bathroom on this floor. “I've got ya…I've got ya.” He reassured me when I collapsed onto my knees puking in the toilet.

I felt one of his hands holding my hair back and the other was rubbing my back till I was finished. “Thanks Cole…”

“You’re welcome. See I'm not a total asshole.” He responded sitting across from me on the floor. His honey blonde hair was tossed and in his eyes like always.

Hugging my knees to my chest, my hair was a wreck and my nose was red. I looked like a complete mess and I didn't care for it one bit. His green eyes remained on me before I asked him not to handle the silence well. “If you wanna say something to me just go on and get it out, Walter.”

“I read part of your diary after you fell asleep. I know how you feel about me and honestly I'm shocked given how I've treated you.” He shrugged his shoulders like it was just a casual thing to say to someone.

I raised my voice in frustration grabbing a tissue when I had to sneeze two or three times. “You read my diary! Cole, you have no right to that. How much did you read - god I want to crawl in a hole now I'm so embarrassed.” Covering my face that was red as a tomato avoiding his gaze.

“Aren't you going to ask me how I felt about it?” Cole questioned with a curious look on his face.

Knitting my brows at the former star football player. “You’re telling me you have a crush on me. Yeah right. I'll believe it in another universe.”

“Do you believe me when I do this?” He shifted onto his knees coming closer to me.

Lifting my head up he cut my question off. “What are you doing-” His lips landed right on mine. Cole scooted closer and placed his hands on either side of my face. I wanted to push him away because I was sick and two because he shouldn't even couldn’t really be kissing me now.

Trailing my hands up his chest my arms wrapped around his neck and he moaned into the kiss after we had gotten closer. Cole tugged me up to sit down on his lap wrapping his arms around my waist holding me close to his chest as possible. “Cole, stop - Cole stop. We can’t be doing this.” Pushing my hands on his chest he drew back confused.

“Because you're sick. I don't care about that. I just needed you to know that I actually care about you, Y/n.” He declared still cupping my face on his hands green eyes so focused on me.

Moving one hand through his honey hair, my other drops to his shoulder blade. “I can't believe it, Cole Walter has a crush on me. Here I was thinking you hated me.” I chuckled with a half grin.

“Why did you think I only picked on you when you first got here. I figured you had a thing for bad guys in you somewhere. Just had to bring it out of ya, darling.” Cole tucked hair behind my ear before he could hear a lot of footsteps heading up the wooden stairs outside the shut bathroom door.

“What do we - uh do!” I sneezed where Cole gave me a tissue and I wiped my nose watching him get to his feet.

He scooped me up bridal style once more where I wrapped my arms around his neck enjoying the feeling of being in his arms like this. “Don't worry, we'll go to my room. They all know better than to go in there…now where we're we?” He carried me quickly out and into his room, closing and locking the door.

“Cole, I'm nowhere near ready for that kind of thing. Sorry if that disappoints you.” I apologize for crawling under the covers on his bed, blushing a deep shade of red.

He kicked off his shoes and got in beside me, gently pushing my head down in the crock of his neck so I would fall asleep. “I don't care about sleeping with you yet. I just wanted to see you blush.”

“Cole!” I punched his chest hearing him laugh and it was music to me considering he rarely ever laughs.

He kissed the crown of my head and watched my eyes begin to close shut. “I'm just playing with ya, Y/n. Now get some rest.” I closed my eyes and looped my hand with his freehand that wasn't playing with hair to make me dose off in his arms.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[thedevilssinner]

I had this little fantasy and I can't get it out of my head.

I'm not religious by any means, but for some reason I like the idea of some ancient god who can hear prayers and pleas of his worshippers.

And one day... he would catch a very interesting prayer 😏

Also, I'm imagining a god of primal urges or something like that but you can imagine whoever you want.

(It's gonna get naugty after the cut, so hear my warning.) 18+

The pleas he hears are usually selfish pleas for wealth, security, fame or love. He doesn't often hear pleas that involve someone else.

Fathers, mothers, children, kings and paupers... all want something for themselves and no one else. Until a special prayer and plea reaches his ears. A prayer that he as a god will never be forgotten. Prayers for him to always be well and always be satisfied. Pleading with him that, like their god, who does all good things for all, he to indulge in rest and the beauty of the world.

At first he is surprised, but then out of curiosity he finds that person who has such prayers. Finding the sweetest little thing he ever saw. Innocent and beautiful.

He also finds that she offer sacrifices to him in the form of the best wine, fruit and small ornaments that she make herself. He is really happy with this little worshipper and from that moment on he listens to her prayers every night.

But the longer he listens, the more her prayers begin to change to sometimes not so innocent. Praying for him to get any pleasure he seeks. Offering him her mouth and other holes to achieve his satisfaction as he pleases. Promising that if he gave her the opportunity, she would worship not only him as a god but also his body, his cock.

In the end, he can't take it anymore and shows himself to his little worshipper. Accepting her offerings and giving her the opportunity to worship him as she said she would.

She would feed him, pour him wine, and while he ate, she would slide to her knees, taking his cock into the warmth of her mouth, gently kissing it or mapping the veins with her tongue. Mumbling her praise for his cock, for his strong legs and thighs, which she gently massaged with her hands. Eagerly drinking his cum. Thanking him for such an honor.

Later he would fuck her, hard and rough, while listening to her moan his name. Thanking him for deciding to accept her offerings. Promising that her pussy is just for him to fuck because he deserves it like her god.

He would call her "Little worshipper" or "Little one"

Maybe even "My sweetest offering" or just "Darling"

I imagine that when he fucks, he grunts and makes a primal growls like an animal. Biting her and basically crushing her hips or legs in his hands when he's close to cumming.

So that's it, that's the idea. I don't know why, but there's something about the idea of an ancient god letting me worship him and then rewarding me by basically fucking my brains out 🤷🏻‍♀️😅

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ꒱ 김규빈

summary : spending quality time with your boyfriend, gyuvin

genre : fluff, established relationship, gyuvin x gn!reader tws : language, pet names, cheating jokes author notes : always in my gyuvin era tbh ♡ word count : 1k

the twinkling of the fairy lights reflected on the sliding glass door out to your balcony. the gentle orange hue contrasted against the cold, mid-winter, night sky. you huffed out a satisfied laugh, touching one of the bulbs lightly to fix its position. you wanted everything to be perfect, and if you do say so yourself, it’s pretty damn near.

you turned around taking in the scenery of your living room. you had put down a couple cozy blankets, taking the fluffy pillows from your bed and lining them against the lower couch cushions. however, you didn’t imagine just stoping at a cute bed for you and your boyfriend to watch movies together on, you went all out and made a full-on fort out of some more extra blankets (which you had no lack of because of your niche obsession), bar stools and cream-colored ribbons. you even went as far as putting battery powered fairy lights (much like the ones lining the walls) inside the structure. oddly, it put you at ease, reminding you of your childhood. you had a bowl of snacks by the foot of the blankets, drinks resting against the plastic. your tv was turned on, the animated fireplace adding to the relaxed aura.

you texted gyuvin almost an hour ago, knowing that he was at dance practice with his members. you told him you had a surprise, knowing that he would be tired — especially with his comeback on its way. he replied excitedly, asking no short of questions back at you, to which you just ignored or told him he’d have to wait and see for himself. you weren't much of a romanticist, but gyuvin brought out sides of you, you truthfully didn't know existed somewhere inside. you guessed that's just what happens when you love someone; and that you really did.

you huffed, giving yourself a mental pat on the back. your attention was grabbed with a gentle ring of the doorbell echoing. your heart picked up pace in excitement, a smile plastering your face. you practically ran to the front door, turning off the lights in the process — so he could get the full experience right off the bat.

you swung the door inwards, your tall boyfriend staring down at you with an equally wide smile. you looked him over, hair still wet as if he got out of the shower put his shoes on and came to see you.

you playfully rolled your eyes, "you're going to get sick, love."

he pulled you into his chest, embracing you tightly, "not even a hello? i'll just go home and dry it then."

"hey, hey, i just spent an hour and a half setting your surprise up, so i'll just dry it."

little did you know, that's exactly what he wanted; he wasn't actually going to leave you over some stupid wet hair. he'd rather himself get sick.

you let him inside your house, waiting for him to tell you how much he liked what you've done with it. and once he did, you skipped off to the bathroom to find your hair dryer.

you came back out to your puppy-mannered boyfriend sitting in the fort, a bag of chips already in his hands. your smile borderlined dorky — painfully so — as you went and joined him.

"how was practice?" you asked, plugging the dryer into the nearest outlet (thanking whoever was out there that it was long enough to reach the two of you), "any cool new moves?"

"well, hanbin is good at tutting, so we added a little bit of that into the pre-chorus choreography." he explained, you sitting on your knees to be at a better height to dry his hair. you ran your hand through it, attempting to detangle it if needed. gyuvin practically melted into the touch. "otherwise, it was standard. tough, but we made it through."

the hum of the warm air filled the room, you making sure it was just right before putting it to his head. "well, you know i'm proud of you nine. your biggest supporter right here!" you boasted, "you know i'll always love you guys."

he turned abruptly, a chip between his lips, "but me more, right?"

the palm of your hand, playfully, pushed his head back to his original position, "obviously, you big baby."

"what did you do? miss me?"

"not even a little bit," you lied, "i watched some TV, did homework and then set up a pillow fort for my boyfriend. he should be here any second, you might want to hide."

you turned the dryer off, done with it, and set it aside. gyuvin spun around, his hands settling on your legs. "he sounds terrifying."

"oh, hardly." you laughed, "actually, the exact opposite to be honest."

he pouted, eyes staring directly into yours adoringly, "wow, i can't believe you'd make me your pretend side piece."

you ruffled his hair, "gotta keep my options open, baby."

"shut up," he said before pressing kisses to your face, and lastly your lips. you giggled, falling into him. "you know i'm your only one."

he embraced you, wrapping his long limbs around you like you were trapped. it was his way of showing you that you couldn't even imagine being without him now, and you never wanted to.

you turned to face him, hand coming up to his cheek. you kissed his nose gently, heart swollen with only love for him. he smiled, eyes closing at the contact. if this was just you being a couple of kids, you never wanted to grow up. he was everything to you, and you've pretended to love a lot of people before — this time it being more than real.

he snuggled in closer, pushing his head into the crook of your neck and tracing shapes on the skin of your side. you played with his hair until you heard the soft breaths taken against you; he had fallen asleep peacefully, with your heart pressed against him.

and you decided a long time ago that you'd always be by his side.

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

[writercole]

Possession

Summary: They were just friends, at Jake’s insistence. So why does he want to break his wingman’s fingers? Words: 1575 Warnings: Teasing, spitting, choking, bondage, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, creampie, Jake’s a dumbass, dom/sub dynamics, bratty female Credits: @princessmisery666 for the beta. Because she’s the bestest ever. I love my Opie! A/N: I truly don’t know where this came from. Brat Tamer Jake just took over and - I mean, I’m not sorry.

She and Jake had been fooling around for months. It was always supposed to be casual, no strings attached, just sex. It suited both of them. 

So why was Jake about to break the bottle of beer in his hand?

And why did Jake feel like he needed to pull Coyote and Fanboy away from her?

We’re just friends with benefits, Jake thought. She can flirt with whoever she wants.

He took another swig of his beer, swallowing hard when he saw her face light up with laughter, her head tipping back and her hand grasping Fanboy’s arm. 

We’re just friends.

She looked up and caught Jake’s eye, holding eye contact while she wiped a drop of liquor off of her bottom lip with her thumb. 

We’re. Just. Friends.

Her lips parted and her thumb slipped between them, pulling out slowly as she licked the liquid off of her thumb. Jake was thankful that he didn’t have a mouthful of beer when she winked at him. 

We’re just friends. We’re just friends. Friends.

She directed her attention back to Coyote, her eyes sparkling with interest as he told an animated story, his hands moving around as he talked. Jake wanted her attention on him. He wanted her to look at him that way. 

Suck it up. We’re just friends.

Her eyes fell back to his and very deliberately held it, or was she demanding it? Didn’t matter. We’re just friends. She leaned forward and said something in Coyote’s ear, her hands on his biceps. Her eyebrow raised and she bit her bottom lip, Coyote’s hand landing on her knee. Fuck this.

Jake stood up roughly, the stool he was sitting on wobbling before it settled back on all four legs. His beer was long forgotten as he stalked over to them, his eyes focused on her and his jaw flexing. Fanboy and Coyote stepped away just before he reached their corner.

“Hey, Jake,” she cooed as her finger traced the rim of her glass. 

“That’s all I get? ‘Hey, Jake.’ Seriously?” he questioned, a strained smile on his face and eyes narrowed.

“What do you mean?” She looked up at him through her lashes with a sweet pout, feigning the innocence he knew was a lie.

His tongue danced behind his closed lips, licking his teeth before he stepped towards her, caging her in the chair with his arms on either side of her body. “You know what I mean, princess,” he growled, “flirting with Fanboy and Coyote? You’ve got some nerve.”

“I don’t know why you’re so upset,” she sassed, reaching under his arms for her drink. “You made it clear we’re just friends.”

Jake’s lip twitched and he fought the urge to bear his teeth as he growled low in his chest. “You think they can give you what you need?”

“I dunno, Javy talks a pretty good game,” she retorted as she looked him in the eye. “I bet his dick is -”

She was cut off by Jake gripping her jaw roughly. “I dare you to finish that sentence.”

She considered her choices for a moment, searching Jake’s eyes. “I bet. His dick. Is big,” she challenged, her words mangled due to the grip on her face.

“You should not have done that,” he sneered. “Up.” He used the leverage on her face to guide her to her feet in front of him, letting go only to put his hand on the small of her back to push her gently out of the bar. 

“Your place or mine?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Neither,” he stated, tugging her to the darkened alley beside the building, pressing her back against the cool brick. “You’re going to learn your lesson right here. You want to act like a slut, you’ll be treated like one. Now open wide.”

She complied, sticking out her tongue for good measure. Jake’s hand held her jaw open as he hovered over her, a thick line of saliva falling to her tongue slowly. He pushed her jaw closed and stared her in the eye until he felt her swallow.

“Good girl.”

He spun her around and pressed her against the wall, his hand gripping both of her wrists as the other worked his belt. Jake wrapped the leather around her wrists, pulling it tight to keep her arms in place. 

“You know your colors, princess,” he whispered in her ear as his hand slid down the front of her jeans, finding her bare and dripping. He stifled a groan as he worked the button open and slid her pants down, doing the same to his own to free his hard length. 

Jake teased her slit with the head of his cock, gathering her slick and pressing against her tight entrance. “My princess is such a good little slut,” he told her quietly, his voice raspy as he tried to restrain himself from pounding into her hard and fast against the brick wall.

A stifled moan echoed in the dark space, a chuckle coming from Jake as he slowly filled her tight cunt with his thick cock. Her hips pushed backward and his hand pressed between her shoulder blades, a silent warning to stay still while he took what he needed.

He set a languid pace, his hips grinding in and out of her, teasing the nerves deep inside of her, winding her up higher and higher, until she was trembling beneath him, babbling and begging for her release.

“Jake - I - please need it,” she panted.

“Not yet, princess,” he teased, slowing his pace until she felt every ridge, pulling back until just the tip remained inside and pushing in even slower. “You haven’t learned your lesson yet.”

Her whines raised in pitch, shrill and needy, music to Jake’s ears. His hand slid up her back and wrapped in her hair, pulling her gently backwards to his chest. His hand wrapped around her throat and squeezed.

“I feel you sucking me in, princess. Are you ready?”

She nodded vigorously since she was incapable of coherent thought, every fiber of her being thrumming with need, every touch, every breath, every whisper an ache that begged to be released.

“Gonna cum deep inside of you. Fill you up,” Jake muttered against her skin as his other hand wandered lower, teasing her clit with soft strokes. “Gonna go back inside and flirt with Coyote while I’m ruining your jeans.”

“No,” she denied, “not - no. Only you,” she panted.

“Ah, there’s my good girl,” he cooed, “let go, princess. I gotcha.”

Her entire body spasmed against Jake. Her vision blurred and her mouth opened in a soundless scream. 

Jake continued to fuck into her, spilling his seed deep inside, pushing it deeper and deeper as his cock softened and she became limp and pliant against his body. His hand released its grip on her throat and instead crossed her chest, holding her to him as they both panted, desperate for oxygen to fuel their racing hearts. 

“Good, princess?” he asked quietly, his thumb tracing circles on her ribs. 

“Mhmm,” she hummed as she lifted her head, putting her weight back on shaky legs.

Jake leaned her forward gently, unwrapping the belt from her wrists and helping to right her clothing before dressing himself again. 

She slowly turned, using the wall for support, and watched as Jake threaded his belt through his belt loops, a tendril of hair falling across his forehead, otherwise still perfectly styled.  She watched him with a softness in her eyes, a stirring in her chest. Something she wouldn’t have mentioned if he hadn’t uttered an admission immediately after.

“I, uh, I don’t know what happened there,” he sighed, his hand running through his hair, the one unruly tendril falling back across his forehead. “I just saw you with them and -”

“Jake Seresin was jealous?” she questioned, her brows furrowed as she stared at his face.

“Look, I know I was the one who said this was just sex but, I don’t know, I think this…this feeling crept up out of nowhere.” He took a deep breath as he looked at her before taking a step forward and cupping her cheek. “I like you. As more than a friend. And I hate the way I felt when I saw you with Coyote and Fanboy. All my brain thought was ‘mine.’ And I know you’re not a possession -”

“Jake,” she interrupted.

“What?”

“Took you long enough to figure it out, you idiot,” she laughed, slapping his chest. “I was using them to make you jealous. And if it wouldn’t have worked, I would have called us off. Because I’ve had feelings for your dumb ass for over a month now.”

Jake looked at her incredulously, laughing to himself at his own ridiculousness. “You used my friends, princess? There might be another lesson you need to be taught.”

“Jake,” she sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, you don’t think so?”

“I don’t.” Her defiance was tempered with the soft smile and her fingertips along his jawline. “They asked to help. They knew how I felt and offered to help get your head out of your ass. It was them or Rooster and I don’t think you’d have believed I’d be into Rooster.”

“No, I’d have actually fought Rooster for you. You’re my girl,” he grinned, his arms bracing himself on either side of her head. 

“Shut up and kiss me, Jake.”

[atxxokirina]

A Proper Thank You — Ronal x fem Metkayina reader ( 18+ MDNI )

Plot: Ronal brings you to the other side of the island to thank you for being by her side, a loyal assistant if you may.

Contains: oral (reader giving) fingering, pet names, pre pregnancy Ronal, teasing, squirting, clit sucking, and pussy worship

You were Ronal's right hand girl.

Always helping her out around the village, doing tasks for her, and practically anything she asked you to do. You followed her around like a lost Palulukan pup. Some may have seen it as pathetic, but Ronal loved it. She liked the idea of having someone so loyal to her. If she told you to jump, you'd ask how high. She had you wrapped around her finger.

You sat by the dock, feeding your Ilu slats of meat as she squeaked in excitement. She spun around, jumping up to catch the food in your hands. "Y/n." You hear a voice say, but you're too distracted to process who. "Yeah?" You ask innocently, back faced to them as you played with the animal and pat it's head. The person called your name again, but you ignored it. Whoever it wasn't couldn't possibly be that important.

"Turn around when I'm speaking to you. Now." Your heart dropped once you grasped who it was, who unintentionally ignored. Ronal. You stand to your feet, turning towards her. "So sorry, I wasn't paying attention." She folds her arms and sighs, stepping close to you and slightly leaning down to meet your face. "This behavior? Unacceptable." She spoke with a low, melodic tone, touching your lips with her thumb. Your ears fall back, tail tucked in between your legs. "I'm sorry, Ronal. I didn't know it was you, it won't happen again. I'm so sorry." You apologized, sidely frowning. "Good girl, that's more like it."

You slightly smile at her praise, right ear twitching. She took your hand, leading you to the east side of the island. "Come with me," She says, ushering you into a hut that was closed off compared to everything else. You've never noticed this before, but it could be because of how far off it is.

She softly pushed you in, closing the doored curtains at the entrance. "I've been meaning to talk to you for awhile now." She began. "And, I wanted to thank you for the dedication you've shown me. Being so loyal, and being such a good girl for me.." Ronal trailed off, circling around you, resembling a Nalutsa trapping it's prey.

"I-I'm always happy to help," you stammer as she backs you up with her, gaze cold. "And, I'm happy to serve my Tsahík." You nod, correcting yourself as she smiles with satisfaction.

As Ronal walked around you, looking you up and down, she began to move in slowly. She stops and reaches out, touching your face and caressing your cheek, leaning in close. You can smell her scent, a mix of the ocean laced with the sweetness of fruits. Her hand moves down your neck, her touch sending shivers down your skin. "I need you to do something for me." She whispers in your ear. "..But before I ask, you need to know; this has to stay between us."

You gulp at her words, anxious for what it might be. "You won't tell anyone, correct?" You nod with quickness.

"Promise me, y/n." She spoke gently, words like swift wind. "Yes ma'am, I promise— I won't tell anyone." She gives you a nod, and then she leans in to kisses your lips, smiling against you.

You can feel the heat rising between the two of you, and you're not sure what to expect next. But at this moment, all you can do is melt under her. You both lean into her before she pulls away, a line of saliva disconnecting you. You're breathe out, blinking up at her, ready to follow her every move.

Gently, she pushes your shoulder down, guiding you down to your knees. Your heart is thumping out of your chest as Ronal's stares down at you. You're face to face with her short skirt, practically able to smell her desire. "Ronal? Should we be-" You start, but she hushes you before you're able to continue.

She puts her index finger on your lip. "Ah ah, don't speak. Just listen." Her voice captures you as you nod, submission in your manners. You rest your palms on your knees as you hold on for her next move. She wraps her hands around to her backside, unknotting the cloth that covered her front.

You quiver in desperation. You knew what was coming, and your body was burning for it. Gracefully, she slid her loincloth down, stepping over it and shuffling it to the side with her feet.

Now, you're met with her perfect cunt. It's puffy, and shaved, with a simple dotted birthmark on her navel. You couldn't help the way you just about drooled over Ronal, her curves, her round breasts, plush thighs, and now; her slick pussy. "Come on, taste it for mommy. You know you want to." She coos, and that was all the confirmation you needed.

You grip onto her thighs, scooting closer as you gather the natural liquids from your mouth. You brought your lathered tongue to her lips, giving one small stripe up as you forced it open with your tongue. "Keep going.." She huffs, closing her eyes as she awaited her pleasure. You felt pressured - but you were sure you could make her cum better than anyone ever has.

Continuing to lick up and down Ronal's slit, your tongue found her nub. You let out a satisfied sigh as you bring your fingers against it with a nice, hard flick. She gasps, almost falling back. You laugh against her clit, vibrating her body. Taking your thumb, you massage it in all directions, trying to figure out which one is just right for her.

You continue to rub as you suck her lips, finding a new circular motion that made her pussy clench, and her breath hitch. "Right there?" You teasingly ask, switching as you're now sucking on her clit and teasing it with your tongue. "Mhmm," She gasps, "Right fucking there." You try maneuvering two of your fingers inside of her as she's constantly clenching around, and eventually you get it.

She moans while you shove your digits inside, trying to keep her cold facade up. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Ronal curses under her breath, back arching as she reached for her tits, pinching her nipples. "You like this mommy?" You say, words electrifying throughout her as you popped your fingers in. "Yeah baby, I love it so f-fucking much. Don't you stop," she groans and whimpers between each word.

You start your fingers at a desirable pace. In and out, slow and steady. You're just about making out with Ronal's pussy. The sounds of you sucking, mixed with her mewls is what fuels you. Even though you're not the one being fucked out, you still felt so good, your own pussy is clenching around nothing.

"Ugh, you little slut.. You're gonna make me squirt!" She threw her head back, grinding against your face as she held your hair back, tightening her grip on it. "Mhmm, mhmm!" You mumble against her pussy, the vibrations making her legs shake. "You better swallow it all, fuck, fuck!" You don't stop sucking, infact, now you're sucking her pussy like your life depends on it. "Yes! Oh, yes! You're such a good whore for me!" She trembles, grinding on you a few more times before her hips come to a halt. "I'm squirting, oh my— swallow it all!"

Ronal's screams transition into the prettiest moans you've ever heard. "Ugghhhh! Nnggghh!" Her squirt comes out all at once, you remove your fingers to catch it all, slurping each drop of nectar that exits her. "Oh, Eywa.." She pants, entirely out of breath as she looks down at you. Swallowing, you lick your lips before wiping your mouth. Ronal chuckled, kneeling down to your level as she cups your cheek.

"Look at you, such a pretty doll for me." She speaks, voice like music as she pushes her lips onto yours. She pushes you down by your chest, crawling on top of you now. "Always following orders.." She slowly swirls her fingers down. To your tummy, and then to the start of your loincloth. "And you never let me down," Ronal slipped her hand into your cloth, cuppping your clit. "It's my turn now." She whispers before forcing your garment off, bringing her head down to your pussy..

< ✿ banner credit ✿ >

taglist: @pandorxxx (♡) @sweethoneycn @neytirishottie @sullybrotherslover @tsireyasluvr @teyamsgrl @encephalitis-on-sundays @sassypain @neon-groves @rosyjn @hidingfrommanda @whore-for-hawks @ele-sme @teyamsatan @lowryv

[multi-fandom-imagine]

A/n: I can’t express how much I love this!

The one thing about living far away from the city was that you had no people around you, the one down side of living in the outskirts of the city was that you had know one near you for help.

Which was troubling since you started to spot a large shaggy dog near the edge of your property. It scared you at first, you didn’t like to step outside when you started to see the animal. Though you’ve come to find out that it left you alone.

So hoping to gain the trust of the creature you started to leave out food for the animal at least in a thanks for not killing you when it easily could given its size.

You would leave out some meats in the morning then when you’d come home from work it would be gone and yet you would see a pair of glowing eyes watching you from the woods.

The large shaggy dog which you seemed as Shaggy first approached you when you went for a morning jog. You had happened to glance behind you to see the dog keeping pace. Yet you still couldn’t figure out the breed, it seemed to big for a wolf. Could it be a stray? Mix breed? Happy for the protection you continued on your run.

The second time the wolf dog approached you was when you were eating outside. You loved to cook and it seemed the scent managed to catch his attention, it was the first time he actually laid down next to you.

A whine escaping the dogs muzzle as it laid down, it’s body scooting close to you as it eyes the burger you were eating.

Sighing you shook your head, a small smile formed on your face. “Well I’m happy you enjoy my food.” A bitter feeling formed in your chest as you placed the burger informer of the wolf dog, it’s dark fur looked so soft. “My ex sure didn’t.” You muttered.

Letting out another whine, you felt the wolf dog rest his head on your knees doing his best to comfort you. Hand shaking you then placed your hand on his head slowly petting it.

At least you gained his trust and after this day it soon turned into an odd relationship.

Tommy did his best to ignore what Joel had said to him. You were different, you were kind, not to mention how good of a cook you were.

He knew you had the chance to call someone to get rid of him but you didn’t so now he was going to approach you as himself, well as a human anyway.

Adjusting his cowboy hat he slipped into the market place, the man easily picking up on your scent. It was so easy to tell you apart from the others, you smelt so good. Peaking down each isle to make sure he didn’t look to obvious the man slowly stepped near you. Clearing out his throat, Tommy tipped his head to you.

“Hello Ma’am.”

Nearly jumping at the voice you turned to whoever it belonged too. Feeling your skin grow warm you didn’t expect to see such a handsome man here yet you couldn’t help but sense something familiar from him.

“Oh! Hello..um how may I help you?”

Clearing out his throat Tommy tipped his head to you, a small smile on his face. “I couldn’t help but notice you and well I wanted to ask you out on a date.”

“A date…with me?” Swallowing thickly you tightly clutched the box of cereal. “I…I’d love too.”

And after one date turned into two, which turned into a week and soon a year has gone by and in that time you started to see less and less of Shaggy dog.

You couldn’t help be a little upset, you were worried. What if something happened to him? What if a hunter got him or some other animal?

Standing on your back porch you gripped the plate of food just hoping to see your furry little friend that you didn’t even notice Tommy slip behind you. The man wrapping his arms around your waist. “Why don’t you come back to bed darlin. It’s awfully lonely without you”

Sighing you lowered your gaze frowning as you placed the plate down. “Okay.”

“Something wrong Y/n?”

“I’m just worried….I haven’t seen Shaggy dog?”

Tommy snorted, how could he forget the little name you’d bestowed upon him though he did hate seeing you so upset, he really didn’t think it effected you so much though he did know that he had to fix it.

“Look Y/n….I gotta show you something.” Rubbing the back of his neck he slipped away then started to undress.

“Why are you getting naked?”

Tommy let out a scoff then gave you a crooked smile as he watched you. “Not about to ruin my clothes.”

Before you could comment you watched Tommy change, it was fascinating and something you couldn’t tare your gaze away from.

“Holy shit”

Then with a blink of an eye a very naked Tommy was now standing in front of you. “Ya I’m that dog you r been feeding and watching over you. You really won me over on that cooking and well I love you Y/n and I’ll explain everything but right now I want you.”

He hummed lifting you onto his shoulders as he stepped into your home then towards your bedroom, it was going to be a long night.

[toomuchracket]

AU to the AU where girlies last serious ex bf is also in hawaii and tags along. matty is all upset/jealous and the guys have to be like “how is she doing anything different than what you were/are doing with that other girl lols” and he comes to his senses (that it doesn’t feel good for your partner to be hanging around their ex)

oh this is funny. AU where, rather than solely stopping in the middle of the water, the boats then dock in another port so you can get some lunch - therefore, you all had less time to faff about in the water, and while the front flip debacle happened you and matty didn't get the chance to actually talk on the boat. he sidles up to walk beside you between the boat and the beachside bar you're all going to like "hi, sweetheart", but before he can say any more he's interrupted by a male voice calling your name; you look towards the sound, and your face just lights up, before you run over to this ridiculously good-looking man (in my own personal fantasy it's damiano from måneskin lmao but imagine whoever you'd like) who looks to be about your age and who sweeps you into a massive hug. and matty's like genuinely wtf is going on. who is that. why is his hand on my girlfriend's bare back. i don't like this one bit. meanwhile, the rest of the fun boat crew are simultaneously shook and delighted at this turn of events for you, a delight which only increases when you bring the guy over to everyone and say "we're all running into exes on this trip, apparently" and introduce him. in fairness to you, you do wrap your arms around matty's neck (he LATCHES onto you) and say to the guy "this is matty, my boyfriend, we've just moved in together" - however, you do let go pretty quickly to be like "come on, let's get a drink" to the guy and say "someone order me a burger or something, i'll meet you guys at the table in a bit" to your group before leading your ex to the bar.

as soon as you're out of earshot, matty turns to his friends (all smirking, all ready to rip the piss out of him) like "THAT'S HER EX?! what the fuck?! she never told me anything about HIM" and polly's like "what a handsome man he is"; matty's like "polly i love you but you're gay you don't know what you're talking about he's not THAT handsome", and gabi's like "no, matty, if we as lesbians think he's handsome, then he must be fucking gorgeous. but never mind that, have a little seat and a drink and don't worry about the fact he's previously been with and is currently talking to your girlfriend" lmao. but even when everyone's sat down, matty doesn't stop looking at you and your ex (he's in perfect view of the bar) the whole time you're up there, practically inhaling margaritas in an attempt to stop the pain of seeing you talk to the guy all animated and look at him so thoughtfully, especially considering you wouldn't look at him earlier. he nudges ross beside him to say "i really don't like this. he's got his hand on her knee what the fuck is he playing at. he knows she's unavailable!", and ross is like "do you even fucking hear yourself lmao you've been doing the same thing in front of her for three days. and you can't even cope with it for three fucking minutes! you're a bit of a hypocrite, mate" - matty's like "oh FUCK. that's why she's upset with me. christ, i am a fucking idiot. i can't believe she's been feeling like this and i haven't realised. FUCK!" and he starts to get a bit teary.

at that point, the food starts to come out, so he's like "i'll go and get her and say sorry"; he tentatively walks over to you, feeling like he's interrupting when the convo dies down as he nears, and says "sorry to bother you guys, but your food's out, sweetheart". you're like "oh, thanks matty. wait there while i say goodbye", which is kinda evil of you considering you hug your ex really tightly for quite a while and matty just has to stand and watch it - when you break the embrace, you say "it was lovely to see you, safe travels", and your ex is like "same to you". he's really sweet, though, he shakes matty's hand and says "i'm sorry we didn't get a chance to chat, but she told me a lot about you there. she really loves you. i'm so happy for you both" in genuine sincerity; matty's ego boosts a little bit as he thanks the guy and says it was nice to meet him before the two of you head back to the group. it's quiet for a moment before matty says "i'm surprised you didn't invite him to have lunch with us, you seemed happy to see him", and you're like "yeah it was nice to catch up after a few years. but i didn't want you to be uncomfortable having to see me with my ex right next to you for ages" - matty stops, takes your hands in his and says "sweetheart, i am so sorry i put you through that. it's not an excuse, but me and her were so casual that i don't even see her as an ex, really, so i didn't stop to think that you'd be upset. i never want to hurt you, sweetheart, and i'm sorry i've neglected you a bit. i do miss you a lot. and i love you even more. and i'm going to properly act like it from now on". you hug him tightly like "i've missed you, baby. i love you. don't want anyone else", and matty's like "neither do i, sweetheart" and then he pulls back like "can i be on your boat on the way back please i don't want to let go of you from now on" - you smile and say "of course. now come on, food's getting cold". and i think the two of you are extra lovey dovey from that point, eating lunch practically sitting in each other's laps and snuggling up on the boat on the way back <3

[gh0ullie]

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷Hot-blooded

Dimitri x gender neutral! reader

content warnings: blood, vampirism, breaking and entering, creampie

word count: 1.9k

18+, NSFW, Minors do not interact!

────────────────────────────────────────────

A chill ran down your spine, freezing you in place. The sound of the window sliding open, ever so quietly, rose above the din of the fan. You didn’t dare chance a look from beneath your cocoon of blankets, but your heart began to hammer faster in your chest as you heard the subtlest shifting of clothing approaching you. 

“Damnit,” a voice sighed, just above a whisper. Your heartbeat crescendoed at the confirmation you weren’t alone. “You’re awake, aren’t you?”

This was less of a question, and more of an acknowledgement. You had no idea how to react. Another sound of fabric shuffling filled your ears as whoever was in your room seemed to sink to the floor. 

“I apologize,” he said, followed by a heavy breath. “I’m not here to hurt you.” 

He didn’t sound so confident in that second part. 

Wearily, you rose, turning toward the voice.. You were surprised to find a large, imposing figure in a crumpled heap on your floor, holding his blond head in his hands. He looked up, meeting your gaze with a single bright red eye. There was an eyepatch where the other eye might have once been, but his gaze was no less hungry with its loss. 

His mouth hung open, shallow pants falling out, the pace of which seemed to quicken when he met your gaze. Past his lips, his canines were replaced with a pair of sharp, inch-long fangs. 

“Holy shit,” you breathed. You’d seen this in movies, but Lestat and Edward couldn’t hold a candle to the man before you. HIs shoulders were broad, his arms thick and muscular, his golden hair tangled and overgrown but silky and gorgeous nonetheless. For all his apparent might, however, he was crumpled on your floor, breathing heavily, and making no moves to attack you. 

“Are you… hurt?” 

He breathes a sigh. “Not so much hurt as… starving.” 

The pieces clicked in your head. You’d left your window cracked. 

“So you came into my room… to drink my blood?” 

He barked a low laugh. “So it seems.” 

Your brows furrowed. “So why didn’t you?”

“Your heartbeat,” he said softly. “I could hear it speed up when I came in. I knew you were awake.”

He could hear your heartbeat? Sure, why not. If you were going to accept that he was a vampire why not believe this too? You shifted in the bed, sitting up and drawing your knees to your chest. 

“I didn’t consider that you might be awake.” 

“I don’t think it would have been difficult for you to kill me anyway,” you said softly. He gave a strained laugh in response. 

“I want to believe it doesn’t have to come to that,” he said, “but I underestimated the strength of this thirst.” You could tell, watching him, that the internal struggle he was going through was indeed immense. “I’m surprised you’re being so calm about this. Thank you.” 

You’re not sure what came over you, but you leaned toward him. “You just need to drink blood, right?” 

His eye flashed at the words. He nodded, biting his lip and silencing whatever he had planned to say next. He knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. 

Against your better judgement, you slunk to the edge of the bed, placing your feet on the ground and making your way over to him. Gingerly, you reached out, cupping his face in your hand, tilting it upward and meeting his gaze.

“You’re welcome to drink your fill,” you said softly. 

That was all the prompting he needed before the animal inside of him took over. With a grunt, he reached up and grabbed your shoulders, pulling you down to him. In an instant, his lips were at your neck, and as you squeezed your eyes shut, his fangs sunk into your flesh. It stung like a bitch. But beneath the pain, pleasure began to well up, a giddy lightheadedness filled you as his fangs withdrew and his tongue lapped at your weeping wound. The sharp canines scraped at the skin around the bite as he drank his fill, making sure not to let a single drop escape. Being held like this, close to his broad chest, his strong arms wrapped around you, pinning you in place… it lit a fire in your abdomen, and, despite yourself, you failed to suppress a whimpering moan. This only seemed to encourage him, and he moved a hand to your head, pulling it to the side ever so slightly to get a better angle at your neck. 

You began to feel a little weak, and grabbed his arms to steady yourself. They were unbelievably muscular, and you couldn’t help but have thoughts of them pinning you down… A huff came from the mouth at your neck as the thought rose in your head. Could he read your mind? No. But what if he could taste the excitement in your blood? The thought, of course, only sent another wave of adrenaline coursing through your veins, and as it hit his lips, he seemed to momentarily lose control, digging his fingers into your shoulder tightly enough to leave bruises. 

A moment later, he caught himself, and with a smack, he pulled back from your neck. His gaze darted about frantically as he tried to find his breath, his jaw slack, your blood glistening red on his tongue. Your heart leapt out of your chest. 

“I… I apologize,” he said. You laughed. 

“I said it was fine, didn’t I?”

“No, I – I almost lost control.” he looked down, the weight of the night's events seemingly heavy on his mind. “You could have been hurt. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” you said softly. “I’m fine. See?” 

You reached forward, placing a hand on his cheek. It was cold, but you were sure he could feel the warmth of your too-hot skin upon his. His darting, adrenaline-high gaze settled finally upon your face, seeming to stare into the depths of your soul. Suddenly, you were self-conscious. You were a mess straight out of bed, your face surely flushed from the heat of the night’s fervor. But he didn’t recoil. Instead, he leaned forward, and in moments you tasted copper on your tongue as it met his in a deep, reverent kiss. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you leaned into the kiss, suddenly hungry at the taste of your own blood. There was something so unbelievably erotic about the taste, and you sought it further and further, taking his face in your hands and straddling his left leg. A quick, harsh gasp filled your mouth as your knee bumped against the bulge in his pants, and your own arousal stirred. The kiss deepened, becoming more and more fervent as his hands roamed your body, shuffling up the hem of your shirt, eliciting a shiver as his cold touch met the heat of your bare skin. 

You ground down upon his leg, breaking the kiss momentarily to let out a pleasured yelp. He took the opportunity to move his lips back to your neck, breathing in deeply, letting the mere smell of you deepen his arousal. 

“Can I…” he asked, his voice somewhere between a pant and a grunt. 

“Be gentle,” you whispered, and before you could say more, his fangs sunk deep inside of you once again. You wondered absently how something that was supposed to be painful could feel this good, but the thought fell to the back of your mind as waves of pleasure overwhelmed you. Unable to stop yourself now, you humped his leg freely, seeking friction. Your hand wandered to the bulge in his pants, and a moan reverberated against your bleeding neck. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. Feeling your way around with one hand, you managed, somehow, to undo his pants. Freeing his erection from its confines, you realized at once just how big he was, and a new jolt of excitement rushed through you. A sharp breath in told you your adrenaline had hit his tongue, and he pulled back just long enough for you to remove your lower garments and rearrange yourself atop his waist, positioning him at your entrance. You moaned in tandem as you lowered yourself onto him, the smell of blood in the air making the act somehow more sensual, more intimate. He returned to your neck quickly, unable to resist the taste. He made no more wounds, and those that were there were now weeping slowly. Still, he lapped fervently at the blood as it trickled out, his tongue sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. 

You managed to get your knees onto the ground, and, slowly, began to use them as leverage. Your weak, gelatinous legs weren’t strong enough right now to do much more than rock yourself upon his cock, but quickly he picked up the slack, reaching around and grabbing your hips in his impressively large hands. He began guiding you up and down, moving in tandem with you, rocking back as he lifted and thrusting forward as you dropped down. Mewls and moans dripped from your lips, your pleasure mounting. You held his head to your neck, seeking further pleasure from his tongue upon your raw wounds, tangling your fingers in his hair as sensation seemed to overwhelm every corner of your body. 

A particularly strong wave of pleasure jolted through you as he hit your erogenous zone, and as the taste of your excitement hit his tongue, he grunted and pushed you backward, towering over you as your back hit the ground. His hands now leveraging your hips, he began to thrust viciously into you, much faster than before. You cried out, but it only seemed to encourage him. Not that you wanted him to stop – being utterly dominated like this was thrilling. 

You could tell he was close when his thrusts became more erratic, grunts and growls of pleasure rolling off his lips. 

“Come inside,” you said between pants and moans. He thrust particularly hard in response, sending a dull, pleasant ache through your abdomen. The sounds of his body slapping against yours reverberated throughout the room, and with one particularly loud smack he bottomed out inside of you, his load coating your insides. 

He only stopped for a moment before continuing, but your own release wasn’t far behind. You realized absently that you couldn’t scream out his name when you came, as you didn’t know what it was. Pulling out gingerly, he collapsed back against the bed, while you sat upright and leaned against his shoulder. Waves of utter exhaustion overtook you, and you chuckled lightly. 

“This is one hell of a dream.”

“A dream…? Yes, maybe it’s better to think of it that way,” he said. His voice was just a little bit sad.

“Well I do hope this is a recurring dream. Maybe I'll even have the same dream tomorrow night,” you said , smiling warmly at him. A look of surprise gave way to his own shy smile, and the vampire rose, fastening his pants and dusting himself off. 

“Maybe you will,” he said softly, before turning to the window, crawling up on the ledge, and jumping out of sight. 

You climbed into bed and quickly found sleep, reminding yourself to always keep the window cracked from now on.  

[nalgenewhore]

boundaries

elide x lorcan, modern/university au, our roommates are dating, NSFW, word count: 9111

Lorcan exhaled heavily as he finally reclined in his too small, too uncomfortable bed. There was no hope for anyone above average size in student residence, even if he had a larger bed. He huffed, there was nothing XL about his extra-large twin. His feet still hung off the edge, and tonight he was too tired to curl up. 

The only small mercy of tonight was that Rowan had decided to stay at Aelin’s. Finally. Whenever they spent the night here, Lorcan considered smashing his head against the cinder brick walls. It would be a better fate than spending the night with the couple. They were very… passionate, to say the least. Disgustingly, bordering-on-sexual-harrassment passionate.

He could feel how close, how blissfully close he was to falling asleep. Lorcan turned onto his stomach and sighed as he wrapped his arms around his pillow. 

At that very moment, someone started pounding on his door. Lorcan’s eyes snapped open, and he swore loudly. The knocking didn’t stop, so he angrily got out of bed. He ripped the door open in hopes of catching whoever it was off-guard. “What the actual fuck,” he seethed, “is your gods-damned problem?”

The girl who stood there didn’t flinch or cower when confronted with his anger, even though Lorcan doubted her head would even reach his shoulders. Her dark eyes flashed in anger. He noticed she was carrying a pillow and dressed in pyjamas. “This is Rowan Whitethorn’s room, right?” He blinked dumbly, and the girl snapped, “Well?”

Lorcan bristled at her tone and straightened to his full size, glowering down at her. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s it to ya?”

She huffed, “Your roommate and mine are no better than feral animals and seem to have very little spatial awareness. So,” she sighed, shifting her weight. “I need a place to sleep, and I know there’s a free bed here.” Her brows raised hopefully.

He cocked a straight, dark eyebrow and leaned against the doorframe. “Yeah, so?”

The girl – Aelin’s roommate, he deduced – deflated, her shoulders curling inwards. “Please don’t make me go back to my room.”

Lorcan decided to take pity on her. He dipped his chin, stepping aside to let her in. She gave him a half-smile as she slipped past him. “Thanks,” she told him over her shoulder.

He waved it off and closed the door, plunging the room into darkness. “Don’t mention it. No one deserves to share a room with them.” Lorcan flicked on the lamp to see her stood between his bed and Rowan’s. He approached his bed and nodded towards the lofted one opposite his. “That’s Ro’s. Have at it.” With that, Lorcan laid back down and rolled towards the wall. 

Lorcan listened for the sounds of her getting into Rowan’s bed, but the room stayed completely silent. He sighed in annoyance, rolling back, “Look, princess, I know Rowan’s a fucking nymphomaniac, but he’s also a neat freak, so…”

The girl whipped her head around, eyes flashing, “Don’t fucking call me that.” She turned back to the bed, sighing. “It’s not that. I’m just unsure how ‘m supposed to get into it, is all.”

He sat up, looking between her and the bed. “Huh. How ‘bout that?” Lorcan got to his feet. 

She whirled around, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Lorcan held his hands up. “Cool it, killer. I was just going to ask if you wanted some help.” He glanced down her body. “No offence, you’re, uh, pretty tiny and Rowan’s not.”

“Oh. Um. Yes, thank you,” she said, still wary. “You can help me.”

He braced his hands around her waist and bent his knees. No way was he blowing out his back all because he wanted to impress some chick. “Ready?” When he nodded, Lorcan stood up and lifted her too. He gently sat her on Rowan’s bed. Her eyes widened, and her plush lips curled around an ‘oh’. Lorcan ducked his head, suddenly shy. “I play rugby for the school. I’m a prop,” he supplied.

She made a face, “Sorry, I don’t know anything about rugby.”

“Oh. Well, one thing I do is lift locks – that’s a position – during lineouts.”

She nodded sagely. “So that’s how you and Rowan ended up together? The rugby team?”

Lorcan nodded as he went back to his bed. “Yup.”

“Is Rowan a prop?”

He snorted, “Nah, he’s too small. He’s a scrum half, kinda like a quarterback?” He reclined once more, tucking his hands beneath his head. 

The girled laid down. “Ah.” She shifted around for a bit until she settled on her side with her arms and legs neatly tucked against her torso. “You can turn the light off now.”

Lorcan reached out and turned it off. His gaze drifted back to her. Now, the only light source was the moon cascading through the window. It reflected off her ebony hair, making it glisten. It was fascinating. “I’m Lorcan, by the way,” he said softly. He suddenly felt very strange that they didn’t know each other’s names, yet they were sleeping only a couple metres apart. 

Upon further reflection, Lorcan realised that Rowan probably mentioned it before, but Lorcan hadn’t cared enough to remember his roommate’s girlfriend’s roommate’s name. 

He cared now. 

Her eyes opened. “I’m Elide,” she offered. “It’s nice to meet you, Lorcan.”

The sound of his name on her lips made his foolish heart falter. Lorcan repressed his shiver. “Good night, Elide.”

Elide’s smile grew, and she whispered, “Sweet dreams, Lorcan.”

✵✵✵✵✵

Over the next month or so, Elide Lochan became a regular visitor at Lorcan and Rowan’s dorm. She’d show up with a small, tired smile, her pillow, and her bookbag. Lorcan always let her in. 

He’d learned a lot about her. She was from Perranth, born and raised, and she and Aelin knew each other through their parents – friends since childhood. Lorcan knew she was an only child, and she’d met his younger sisters – Winona and Tallulah – once when he happened to be on FaceTime with them.

Sometimes, they met up on purpose to study together. Lorcan often found himself in awe at the ways her brain worked. 

When she came over to steal Rowan’s bed, they didn’t just go to sleep anymore.

They stayed up talking about nothing and everything. 

Lorcan had learned many important things about Elide, like she was at the Kingsflame University on a full-ride academic scholarship. The girl was wicked smart. She wanted to be a logician, and the thing about that was– Lorcan had had to take a deductive logic class his first year in computer science, and after three months, all he’d learned was that he never, ever wanted to talk about deductive logic ever again. 

He didn’t seem to mind it when Elide talked about it. 

Lorcan knew that Elide didn’t like movies, only TV shows, and her favourite show was Seinfeld, even if she could spend hours – and did – ranting about how she couldn’t stand Jerry and George. She hated cereal and shuddered every morning she woke up to him eating a bowl of Cheerios. Lorcan learned that Elide was not a morning person, and she hated coffee, even though she needed a dose of caffeine to move past monosyllabic grunts when she first woke, so she drank, more like chugged, three cups of black tea. He learned that she preferred poetry over novels, and that Audre Lorde and Leonard Cohen were tied for her all-time favourites. Her favourite genre of music was goth, and she knew a freaky amount of trivia about Depeche Mode and the Cramps.

He knew that she was mostly indifferent about sports, especially team sports, but she still tagged along with Aelin to rugby games. Whenever they scored a try, or succeeded in a lineout, Lorcan found himself looking for her in the stands.

At this point, Lorcan knew Elide better than he knew Rowan these days. It used to bother him that Rowan was never around, and he’d ditch plans in a second if Aelin was available, but since Elide started coming around, he wasn’t so upset anymore. 

They were watching a movie one night, because Lorcan had declared that it was simply unacceptable that she’d never seen Inception. She’d been apprehensive, but he always managed to convince her.

“You like metaphysics, right? Like in philosophy?”

Elide scrunched her nose, “I guess… I mean, I think it’s a bit pointless, but it’s cool to think about.”

Lorcan grinned triumphantly. “Ok, well, Inception is metaphysics, princess, just fun and directed by Christopher Nolan.”

She’d outright laughed when he told her Inception was the best piece of metaphysical theory ever created, calling him an idiot, but she’d agreed.

Lorcan and Elide were sitting horizontal on his bed, their backs against the wall. At first, the laptop had been between them, then Elide had told him she was cold. He had put the computer on his lap so that Elide could press against his side and he could wrap his arm around her. 

He split his time between watching the screen and watching Elide. Lorcan found that he enjoyed watching her reactions more. 

“–even if it was true that we were only dreaming all the time, we would still need to exist in a reality where it’s possible to dream, you get that right? So, technically, we’d still be conscious beings, we just experience consciousness through our subconscious, but even if you accept that,” Elide explained, her hands gesticulating, “it’s kinda an inconsequential question because conscious experience is inherently relative and subjective, so what does it matter? This would still be my reality, this would still be all I know if it turns out I’m attached to some machine that keeps me asleep.”

“Y’know, princess, when I said it was like metaphysics, I wasn’t being serious, right?”

“You brought this on yourself, Salvaterre, it’s—”

Someone roughly shoved the door open, cutting Elide off.

Lorcan’s arm tightened around Elide as she startled, and two pairs of dark eyes turned to glare at the intruder. Upon finding Rowan, their glares deepened. 

The silver-haired boy paused, then rolled his eyes. “Elide,” he muttered.

She looked up at Lorcan, then slowly extricated herself from his hold. “Hi, Rowan,” she answered flatly.

“I thought you were staying at Aelin’s tonight,” Lorcan said, not caring that his tone made the sentence more like an accusation than a statement. 

“I was, but,” Rowan’s jaw clenched, “I’m not anymore.” He glanced at Elide, seeming irritated.

Lorcan’s jaw clicked. What right did Rowan, of all people, have to be irritated that someone else was in their dorm room? It was all too rich.

Elide must have picked up on his irritation. Her brows rose in incredulity, and she shared a look with Lorcan. He shook his head a bit, but she just glanced back at Rowan and shrugged. 

Rowan cleared his throat obnoxiously, still glaring at Elide. “I don’t mean to interrupt whatever you two are doing,” he muttered before angrily getting into his bed and turning away.

Elide frowned at Lorcan, and he shook his head, leaning down to whisper. “Just stay ‘till the movie’s over.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t leave. Instead, she curled closer to him and rested her head on his chest. “Ok, then.” Elide reached out to press play on the movie, then lowered the volume. 

Neither one of them could really pay attention. Rowan’s irritation rolled off of him in waves, and Elide felt too weird to relax. Lorcan could feel it too. His jaw ticked. He was pissed that Rowan was acting his way. Typically, his friend was more polite – Lorcan couldn’t say what happened to make him act this way.

Lorcan moved his arm around Elide to hold her tighter. He knew Rowan hadn’t fallen asleep and was just stewing in his pissy attitude. 

At some point, while watching the movie, Elide gasped loudly. 

Rowan flipped over, snapping, “Elide, can you get out?”

She startled, “What?”

He repeated himself, then said, “You’re being loud, and I’m trying to sleep here. Why don’t you go back to your room?”

Lorcan glared at him, his lips thinning, “Ro—”

“Y’know, it’s my room, too, so I get a say in who’s in here, and who’s not.” He worked his jaw. “So get out.”

The girl laughed coldly at the irony of it all. She slowly sat up, and Lorcan’s chest prickled from the loss of pressure and warmth. “Right. I’m intruding on your space, is that it?” Elide looked at Lorcan with a shrug, but he could see the hurt in her eye. “Sorry, Lor, I guess we’ll just finish it another day.”

With that, Elide crawled off his bed and started gathering her things. Lorcan sent another murderous look Rowan’s way, then got up to help her. Elide’s pillow had been on Rowan’s bed, and the prick hadn’t even noticed. He’d already turned back towards the wall. 

Elide marched over, reached up, and yanked it out from under his head. 

Rowan flipped over, “What the fuck, Elide?”

“I don’t want to forget my pillow,” she retorted. “Have a good sleep, Rowan.”

The way she said made it very clear she would probably prefer Rowan having the worst sleep of his life. Elide didn’t say another word as she stormed towards the door, yanking it open. 

Lorcan stared incredulously at his roommate. “Rowan.”

Rowan frowned, “What? I don’t know what her fucking problem is.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Lorcan snarled before exiting the room. He half-jogged to catch up with Elide. “Princess, wait up.”

She sighed heavily and stopped, pivoting to face him. “I told you not to call me that,” Elide said, her voice sad. 

He slung his arm over her shoulders, “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

They both turned towards the stairs to make the trek up to Elide and Aelin’s room. 

When they got to her floor, Lorcan said, “I’m sorry about Rowan. I don’t know why he’s so pissy.”

“Oh, you know, trouble in paradise,” Elide sighed. “You don’t have to apologise for him, he’s not sorry.”

“I still feel bad.”

She flashed him a brittle smile. “Thanks.”

Too soon, they made it to Elide’s room.

She slowed in front of her door, but she didn’t make any move to open it. 

Lorcan glanced between her and the door, an eyebrow raised in question. 

“I don’t want to go in if Aelin’s still awake. She’s going to walk to talk about whatever happened, and,” Elide laughed coldly. “I’m so fucking done with their shit.”

He rubbed her back, opening his mouth to reassure her. 

Before he could, the door ripped open. He and Elide jumped – seriously, what was Aelin and Rowan’s obsession with aggressively opening doors?

“There you are!” Aelin exclaimed in accusation. “I’ve been texting you, Elide, y’know, it wouldn’t kill you to check your phone once in a while.”

Elide sighed. “Good night, Lorcan.”

He thinned his lips, narrowing his eyes at Aelin. “‘Night, Elide. Good luck.”

She laughed quietly. “You too.”

Lorcan shoved his hands in his pockets and pivoted on his heel. 

Elide looked at her roommate, desperately trying to hold onto her anger. She didn’t want to get into it tonight. She brushed past Aelin, beelining to her bed. 

The door fell shut with a heavy thud. Elide’s hackles raised. She could almost feel Aelin staring at her. “What did that mean?”

“What did what mean,” Elide asked robotically as she got into bed.

“You know, Lorcan saying good luck. What did he mean?”

She sighed while pulling her blanket up to her chin. “Nothing, Aelin. It’s just a joke.”

Her roommate scoffed, “Well, yeah, but a joke about what?”

Elide clenched her jaw, “It’s nothing, Aelin, let it go.”

“If it’s nothing, why can’t you tell me what it means?”

She sat up, dragging her hands down her face. “Aelin, I really don’t want to talk about this now,” Elide said carefully. “Can you just let it go, and we’ll talk about it later?”

Aelin cocked her jaw. “No, I want to talk about it now. I never see you anymore, and when I do see you, you’re always annoyed.”

Elide pressed her lips together, weighing her options. Some part of her knew that whatever she said now, if she didn’t speak carefully, could never be taken back. It would change her friendship with Aelin, and even though she was angry with her, Elide didn’t want that. 

Slowly, she sat up and turned on her lamp. “Ok, fine. Before I say what I’m going to say, I want you to know that I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I’m not trying to hurt you, ok?”

“...ok,” Aelin shifted uncertainly.

After a deep breath, Elide started, fighting to keep her voice even. “I’m very happy for you, that you found Rowan and you’re happy, but the way that you and Rowan act is… really disrespectful to me.”

“What? How?”

“You two are always here. You don’t ask me if it’s ok that he comes over,” she pointed out. “I don’t even like to come home most of the time because I’m scared you two will be in middle of having sex. You’ve had sex with him while I was literally two metres away, Aelin. It makes me extremely uncomfortable, ok? It’s inappropriate.”

Her roommate blushed deeply and averted her gaze. Aelin protested weakly, “We put up the screen, Elide.”

Elide scoffed, rolling her eyes. “A paper folding screen isn’t soundproof, Aelin.” She crossed her arms. “I’m just- I’m tired of it. I’m tired of you and Rowan acting like you can do whatever you want to do. This is my space too, and I feel like you don’t acknowledge that.”

“Well, you’re never here! How can we act like it’s your space if you’re barely here?”

“You’re not listening,” Elide said, hating how tight her throat got. She did not want to cry. “I’ve told you why I’m not here, and you’re not listening.” She swallowed and told Aelin, “Your boyfriend is an asshole, too. He’s mean.”

“How?” Aelin demanded. “How is he mean?”

“He kicked me out of his room.” Moisture gathered on Elide’s lashes, and her bottom lip wobbled, “Because I was watching a movie with Lorcan when you kicked him out, and he was pissed that I was in his room.”

Aelin spread her hands, “Ellie, I’m so sorry, I’m sure he didn’t mean–”

Elide slashed her hand through the air. “I don’t care what he meant. He was mean, and you two are rude, Aelin. Fix that before you apologise.” Her vision blurred, and her tears spilled over, streaking down her cheeks. Elide quickly wiped them away, shaking her head, “I told you I didn’t want to talk about this, Aelin.”

“Elide, I’m sorry,” Aelin said, her own voice tight. “I- I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, ok? I’ll talk to Ro, I’ll make him apologise.”

Crying softly, Elide shook her head. “Please, don’t. I don’t care anymore, because you’ve said you’re sorry before, but nothing ever changes, Aelin.” She looked at her roommate. “I told you I didn’t want to talk about this, I’m done talking about this. Good night, Aelin.”

“El—”

“I said good night.” With that, Elide turned the lamp off and laid down, turning away from her roommate.

Sleep did not come easily for either Elide or Aelin that night.

✵✵✵✵✵

Lorcan was stewing in the cafeteria, angrily stabbing at his bland breakfast. Eventually, he shoved the tray away from him and crossed his arms. He wasn’t hungry. 

“Don’t take it out on the poor tray,” said a dry voice. 

He looked up at Elide, his smile fading when he took in her state. A big, oversized hoodie, equally too-big sweatpants and thick glasses when she normally preferred contacts. Her face looked paler than normal, too, and she just looked so wrong. “H- hey,” he responded. Lorcan moved over on the bench, “Sit down.”

Elide put her tray down and sat with a big sigh. Without prompting, she leaned into his side. Lorcan was shocked, but he didn’t protest. He merely draped his arm around her shoulders. “So I’m guessing last night didn’t go well?”

She groaned, burying her face in her hands. “It was horrible, Lor,” Elide complained. “I cried, she cried. It was just- it was bad. And now she’s trying to be, like, cheery and friendly.” She shuddered. 

Lorcan chuckled.

“Hey, don’t laugh at me,” Elide said, sitting up with an impressive glare. “How did your night go?”

He shrugged, “It was fine. Didn’t say much.”

She rolled her eyes and turned to her oatmeal. Elide glumly poked at it, clearly not feeling like eating. “You want to finish Inception tonight? It’s pretty good, you know.”

Lorcan gasped theatrically, “Wait, what did I just hear? Did- is Elide Lochan admitting that a movie is good?”

Elide laughed a bit, digging her elbow into his side. “Don’t push it, Salvaterre. I have to find out what happened to Cobb’s wife, don’t I?”

He nodded, pulling his tray back to himself. “True, true. So, your place or mine?”

“Wherever Rowan isn’t.”

Lorcan winced and glanced at her. “I’m sorry about that, you know?” 

“You know, everyone except for Rowan has apologised for that.”

The muscles of his jaw feathered. Lorcan scooped a spoon of cereal into his mouth, speaking around his food, “Believe me, he knows what’s good for him now. He’ll apologise.”

He felt Elide looking at him, but he didn’t meet her gaze. She cocked her head to the side. “Lorcan. What does that mean?”

Lorcan shrugged, “It means that Rowan’s not the kind of guy who needs his nose broken to learn his lesson.”

“Lorcan!” she hissed. “You broke his nose?! What is wrong with you?”

“I did not break his nose,” he reassured her. “I almost broke it, and he can’t prove it was on purpose.”

Elide stared at him in disbelief. “Explain yourself.”

He shrugged again, cocking his jaw. “Rugby is a dangerous sport, Elide. Accidents happen, even in practice.” Lorcan didn’t tell her that as team captain, he often dictated their workouts, and he didn’t tell her he specifically chose a tackling drill where he could work out some of his anger on the very subject of it.

She slowly shook her head and laughed. Lorcan grinned, just happy to see something other than emptiness in her eyes. Elide leaned up to press her lips to his cheek. He froze, his eyes widening. “Thank you,” Elide whispered, “for defending my honour.”

When she pulled away, Lorcan was looking at her with an expression she’d never seen on his face before. Elide’s eyes flicked down to his lips, unwillingly. He caught the motion. Her heart started pounding, but she wasn’t scared.

His head dipped, and Elide found that she didn’t care that they were in the cafeteria. Granted, they were tucked away in the back corner, but people could see, if they tried. 

She didn’t care.

Elide tilted her chin up, shivering when his hand came to rest on the side of her neck.

“Elide,” Lorcan whispered, his breath fanning over her lips. 

Kiss me, she was about to say, about to feel his lips on hers, but they were interrupted.

Elide and Lorcan both looked to the side. 

Aelin and Rowan stood in front of them, trays laden with food. 

The darker pair exchanged a look before reluctantly pulling away. Neither went far though. Lorcan’s arm slipped around her neck, holding her closer, and Elide lifted her hand to entwine their fingers. “What do you want,” Elide snapped, glaring at Rowan. There was a bruise on his nose, and it looked swollen, yes, but not crooked or broken. A sick satisfaction filled her stomach. 

“We wanted to see if we could join you.”

“Nope.” “Nah, we’re good.” Elide and Lorcan answered in unison. 

Elide looked at Rowan. A little smirk curled her plush lips, and she tilted her head to the side. “Nice nose, Rowan.”

The tops of his ears turned bright red against the near-white of his hair. Rowan bent his head. “Yeah, I, uh, deserved that.” He looked at her, regret clear in his pine green eyes. “Elide, I’m really sorry about how I acted last night. I’m sorry for snapping at you, and for being rude.”

“You weren’t rude,” Elide said. “You were mean.”

He winced and nodded. “You’re right. I was mean to you, and I’m sorry. There’s no justification for it. I- I really just am so sorry.”

“Thank you,” she responded, genuine. “Really, Rowan.” Elide still didn’t want to be around them, even if Rowan had apologised. She looked at Aelin, who was looking like she could cry at any second. “Is that all you wanted to say, ‘cause we still don’t want to eat breakfast with you?”

Rowan muttered a curse, tugging on Aelin’s arm. “Let’s go, they obviously–”

“Rowan, stop.” Aelin pushed her shoulders back. “We know that we’ve treated the both of you really unkindly and unfairly lately,” she said. Aelin stared at Elide expectantly, “Will you let us make it up to you? Can we take you out to dinner tonight? Our treat.”

Lorcan scoffed. 

Elide glanced at him, her eyes soft and pleading. She could see that Aelin was sorry, and she didn’t want this to end their friendship. He relented, dipping his chin in assent. Elide smiled in triumph, turning back to Aelin and Rowan. “Sure. That would be nice.”

“Good. Good, ok, I’ll make reservations,” Aelin said. “I’ll text you about it.” She waved her fingers, eyes sparkling, “Enjoy your breakfast, you two.” With that, Aelin flitted away, Rowan following in her step. 

Lorcan collapsed against the padded bench. He dragged his free hand down his face and groaned, “This is going to be a shitshow.”

Elide hummed, “I don’t think so. But if it is, we’ll just leave early. Deal?”

He peeked up at her and nodded. “Deal.”

✵✵✵✵✵

Lorcan and Rowan were the first to arrive at the restaurant. They’d chosen Emrys’, a local restaurant. It was certainly fancier than the average university student’s preferred spot, but Rowan and Aelin were serious about making it up to them. If they wanted to throw their money away by wining and dining Elide and Lorcan, neither one of them was going to complain.

Despite Rowan’s apology to Elide earlier, Lorcan was still mad. He’d done his best to ignore his roommate all day, rolling his eyes when Rowan tried to talk to him or putting on his headphones the moment the other boy stepped into the room. 

He was being petty, knew he was being petty, and could not care less.

To his credit, Rowan hadn’t stopped trying. 

“Aelin texted me, she said she and Elide are almost here.”

Lorcan visibly perked up at the mention of Elide. His eyes peered through the darkened window, scanning the main street as if he could spot them. “Are they walking or taking a cab?” Their building wasn’t far away, but it was cold, and Lorcan had friends that often preferred shelling out fifteen dollars to walking downtown in heels. 

“Uh, walking, I think,” Rowan said. He studied Lorcan shrewdly and sat next to him on the bench. 

Lorcan looked at him, his upper lip curling, and moved further away. Fuck him.

“You know,” Rowan started, not one to lie down in a fight or give up. “When me and Aelin saw you two this morning, it was almost like you were about to ki—”

Faster than Rowan was expecting, Lorcan stood up. “Shut up,” he said lowly. “I’m not talking with you about Elide.” 

His roommate sighed, getting to his feet as well. “I don’t know what you want,” Rowan muttered, eyeing the people around them. He didn’t want to fight in public with Lorcan. “I apologised to her, and you almost broke my nose, Lorcan. If anything, you should be apologising to me.” Rowan regretted the words the minute they left his mouth. 

In an eerily slow manner, Lorcan turned around.

Suddenly, Rowan became very aware of how much bigger Lorcan was. It didn’t seem so obvious before now, but the other boy had a good half foot and at least fifty pounds on Rowan.

Lorcan angled his head to the side.  “Why would I apologise? I’m not sorry for it, and if I had the choice to go back, I’d do it again,” he said softly, though his voice wasn’t any less vicious. “You still don’t get it, do you? It’s not about last night, Rowan. This has been going on for months now, and Lee and I can’t take it anymore.” He leaned in, his eyes dangerously dark and flat. “You and your girlfriend are rude, and I’ve never met anyone who has such low regards for the people around them or other people’s reasonable right to fucking boundaries, which includes not having sex when you’re around other people. That is the problem, not just that you were mean to Elide.” 

Rowan opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by the arrival of the girls. 

Aelin pranced over to him, all shiny smiles and bright eyes. “Hey, you two. Sorry we’re late, Elide couldn’t decide what to wear.”

Lorcan turned around, effectively ending his exchange with Rowan. 

Elide stood just inside the front door, passing her coat and purse to the hostess. 

He was speechless. Lorcan wasn’t sure if it was the lighting, or whatever had shifted between them, but she had never looked so beautiful. Elide grinned softly, walking over to him. “Hi, there.”

Lorcan finally found his tongue. “Uh… hi.” She reached her hand out, and he took it happily, liking the way their fingers fit together. He appraised her slowly, not wanting to miss a single detail. 

Elide wore a long, slim-fitting black skirt that was made from some textured fabric. Lorcan didn’t know what it was but he liked it. Her long-sleeved top was a deep red velvet with a neckline that just barely skimmed her collarbones – a boat neckline, he thought one of his sisters had told him once. Both the neckline and the hem had some kind of subtle, short ruffle made of a delicate white, pleated material.

Like her skirt, her top fit like it was made for only her. Around her neck she wore a black-ribboned necklace with a large, glass heart pendant, that rested in the hollow between her collarbones. 

He gently untangled his hand from hers, pressing his to the small of her back. Lorcan dipped his head, able to whisper in her ear because her long hair had been swept up and held in place with a lacquered, ornamental hairstick. “You’re beautiful, princess.” He left a gentle kiss on her cheekbone, careful not to disturb her makeup.

Elide’s nose crinkled with the force of her grin. Her blush highlighted the freckles he seldom saw. “Thank you,” Elide whispered back. She smoothed her hand over his heart, fingering the fine material of his navy shirt. “You clean up good, Salvaterre.”

Lorcan laughed softly. “Did you grow, or something?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, stupid,” she said with affection. “I’m wearing heels.” Elide kicked one foot up. “Four whole inches.”

He whistled low. “Damn, Lochan. You’re, like, average height now.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Lorcan laughed again, offering her his elbow. Elide graciously slipped her hand around his bicep, giving it a squeeze before they braved the other couple. 

Neither Rowan nor Aelin commented on anything, which both Elide and Lorcan were eternally grateful for. Aelin’s eyes held a knowing look, but she just smiled happily. “Well, now that we’re here, shall we?”

A hostess led them to a table near a window that overlooked the garden next door. It was gorgeous, really. Rowan and Lorcan pulled out Aelin and Elide’s chairs, respectively, then sat across from them. 

Lorcan didn’t want to be this close to Rowan, but looking straight at Elide made up for it. He gave her a little smile, and the four of them shared idle chatter until a server came over to ask for their drinks. 

A few minutes later, the drinks arrived and Aelin proposed a toast. 

Elide laughed, but she still lifted her cocktail and eyed Lorcan until he copied her. “What are we toasting to, Aelin?”

“Um… to good friends and even better ones like you two?”

They did the obligatory clink, but Lorcan wasn’t thinking about good friends while he took a sip.

Something about the way Elide stared back at him, completely cool, yet eyes simmering with heat and hidden intentions, made him think she wasn’t thinking about good friends either.

✵✵✵✵✵

At some point during dinner, probably around the time their plates had been cleared, Elide’s hand migrated to Lorcan’s on top of the table. 

Beside them, Aelin and Rowan had fallen into their own little world, like they couldn’t help themselves. 

Elide found that it didn’t bother her tonight. She was perfectly content in her own little world with Lorcan. 

He sat leaned back in his chair, watching her with smouldering eyes. It didn’t help that he really looked too good. The deep navy of his button-up shirt, tie-less with the first two buttons undone, contrasted almost sinfully well with the richness of his copper skin. 

She sipped on her ice water, needing something to quell the pulsing heat in the pit of her stomach.

Lorcan smirked like he knew exactly what she was thinking. 

Elide was left trying to deduce a logical reason for why they had to leave early, and why Aelin couldn’t come home tonight. 

Like an angel, the waitress appeared again. She smiled politely, asking if she could interest any of them in dessert.

“I think we’re all set,” Lorcan said, briefly looking away from Elide. “Thank you, though.”

“Oh, are you sure?” Aelin asked. The only reason she didn’t pick up on their tension immediately was because she’d been so engrossed in conversation with Rowan, and Elide thanked her goddess. 

Elide smiled pleasantly. “I’m sure, I’m so full,” she said. She leaned towards her friend, kissing her cheek. “Honey, this was amazing. Thank you, really.”

“You’re welcome, but I- I really want dessert,” Aelin answered. 

“That’s ok. Stay, have dessert with Rowan.”

“Oh. Oh,” she looked quickly between Elide and Lorcan, nodding. “Right, ok, that sounds good.” Aelin smiled knowingly. She leaned closer again, speaking lowly to Elide. “Should I expect to see you tonight?”

Elide glanced across the table, where Lorcan was saying something to Rowan. “Um, I don’t think so. Enjoy the room, Ae.”

The blonde chuckled. “Be safe.”

Rowan and Lorcan sat back, having reached some sort of agreement. “Enjoy your night,” Rowan said.

Lorcan thanked him, though Elide still saw a mark of irritation. He got to his feet, offering Elide his hand. She took it, smoothly standing up and brushing her hand down her skirt. Once she was on her feet, Lorcan slipped his hand around her waist. “Thank you for dinner,” he said, squeezing Elide’s side.

The silver-haired boy simply inclined his head, taking Aelin’s hand again.

Elide said one last good-bye to Aelin, and then Lorcan was tugging her towards the hostess stand. She giggled at his impatience as they waited for their coats and Elide’s purse.

They walked out of the restaurant, the very picture of self-control.

✵✵✵✵✵

Elide eyed Lorcan as he used his student ID to let them into the building. “Lor,” she started, sliding her hand up his arm. 

“Yeah?”

“Why are you still mad at Rowan? I thought everything was ok now.”

His jaw clenched, and she regretted asking him. She didn’t want to ruin their night with talk about Rowan. “Why would everything be ok now?”

She shrugged, “He apologised to me, you almost broke his nose…”

Lorcan sighed through his nose. “I’m not mad at him anymore for what he did to you because you’ve forgiven him. But there’s stuff that’s just between me and him, like there was stuff between you and Aelin.” He looked at her, his brows lowered. “He hasn’t apologised for that yet.”

“Oh.” Elide suddenly felt very selfish. Of course Lorcan would have his own feelings, exclusive to however she’d been treated. Gods, she’d made it all about her, hadn’t she? Cheeks burning with embarrassment, she let Lorcan lead her to his room, silent. 

When they got to the door, Lorcan turned around. “Where’d you go?”

“Hmm? Nowhere, I’m right here.”

He frowned again. “You got all quiet.”

Elide shifted, trying to look away, but he held her chin steady, forcing her to look at him. She swallowed, trying to find her words. “I just- I kinda just made everything about me, and that was selfish.”

Lorcan almost recoiled, “What? What’re you talking about, selfish?”

She blushed again. “I basically acted like you should forgive Rowan immediately ‘cause he apologised, like you don’t have your own feelings about it.”

Realisation dawned on him. “Oh. I didn’t think you were selfish.” Lorcan bent his head, the tips of their noses touching. His voice was soft. “I don’t think you’re selfish, ‘lide.”

“You don’t?” she murmured, hardly knowing what they were talking about anymore.

“No, never.” His lips brushed against hers, and he whispered, “You know what, princess?”

“What?”

“I don’t want to talk about Rowan right now.”

“Neither do I.”

He kissed her deeply, one of his arms wrapping around her waist. Elide moaned a bit, her eyes falling shut. Vaguely, she realised that Lorcan was opening the door. 

He tugged her inside and then pressed her against the door. “Fuck,” Lorcan whispered. His tongue licked into her mouth in a way that made her knees weak. She wrapped her arms around his neck, needing more, more, more. Lorcan sucked on her bottom lip, digging his teeth into the plushness of it before he let go. 

Elide was unable to help herself and gasped into his mouth. She felt, more than heard, his cocky chuckle. A bit wickedly, Elide traced the tip of her tongue over his kiss-bitten lips. She pulled her hands down from his neck to push at his coat. “Off,” she mumbled. 

His coat was gone within seconds. 

Her lips curled into a knowing smile against his, and Lorcan grasped her head between his hands, tilting her face just so. As he slanted his mouth against, Elide raked her long nails down his torso to his belt. 

Lorcan’s powerful body shuddered against her. He pressed her harder into the door, the kiss almost bruising. She groaned as he marked heavy, hot kisses down her jaw and throat. Elide’s arms slipped around his head as she tipped her chin up to encourage him. “Lor…” she moaned breathlessly. 

One of his hands dragged down her side to cup her ass. “‘lide,” Lorcan whispered, nipping the sensitive skin of her throat. 

“Mmm?”

“D’you know how good you look, princess?” he asked her. 

Elide’s eyes opened, and she hummed as he sucked a little mark against her pulse. She smirked, of course she knew how good she looked, but... “No. You should show me,” she murmured, “how good I look.”

Lorcan pulled away, breathing hard while he stared down at her. His eyes were wild, holding a promise like he would fall to his knees and worship her the moment she told him to. 

She pressed a hand into the middle of his chest and gently shoved him backwards. 

He staggered back a step, unable to tear his eyes away from her. 

Elide stepped away from the door and around him. She forced Lorcan to turn around as she waltzed to the middle of the room.

First, she shrugged off her long overcoat. 

His throat bobbed as he dragged his eyes over her body. 

Slowly, tantalisingly, Elide took the edge of her shirt and pulled it over her head. She let it slip through her fingers, and she was sure Lorcan wasn’t breathing now. Something like pride, pride that she had him so close to his knees for her, glowed in her chest and throbbed between her thighs. Elide knew exactly how good her sheer lilac balconette bra made her tits look. 

He stepped closer, the evidence of his arousal pressing against his pants zipper.

Elide reached behind herself to unzip her skirt, and the slinky material slipped off her like blood from a wound. She was left bare, save for the matching sheer lingerie set – she really liked him – her strappy, platform heels that made her legs look like they went on for miles, and her necklace.

The last thing Elide did before Lorcan lost the wavering grip on his self-control was reach up and pull out the hairstick keeping her hair up. Her dark hair fell down sleekly, and she smirked. “Well? Show me.”

His hands wrapped around her waist before he tugged her into him, his lips finding hers like he was drowning and she was his only chance to breathe. “Beautiful,” Lorcan murmured, his tongue slicking against hers. He turned her to his bed and gave her a gentle nudge, so Elide sat herself on the edge of the mattress. 

She propped herself up with her hands behind her. 

Lorcan kneeled and hooked his hands beneath her knees, tugging her closer while spreading her legs. He leaned in to kiss her centre. Elide shuddered as she moaned, one of her hands slipping into his hair, either to hold him there or pull him closer. 

He looked up at her before raising, kissing her again. “I’ll make you feel good,” he promised. “Better than you’ve ever felt.”

She nodded, desperately trying to hold onto her power. His hands slid up and down her thighs, hot and slow. 

“You want that?” he asked, pulling away to kiss the corner beneath her jaw. 

Elide gasped, her head falling back. “Yes,” she sighed. 

Lorcan smirked again. Then. “Say please.”

Her eyes flew open, and she gawked at him. He merely arched a brow, as if waiting. Elide swallowed, her cunt pulsing. “Please,” she whispered. “Make me feel good.”

Lorcan gave her one last kiss before he moved down her body. One of his hands slid up her stomach to the heavy underside of her breast. While he peppered her chest with mindless touches of his lips, his hand expertly unhooked her bra. Elide let it fall, and Lorcan tossed it away.

For a moment, he just stared at her ample cleavage. Elide almost whined, needing some sort of reprieve. 

He looked at her, holding her gaze as he lowered his mouth to one nipple, circling it slowly with his tongue as her breath hitched before he drew it into his mouth. Lorcan lapped at it greedily, his eyes shutting to savour her as his hands moved to her tits, kneading both at the same time. 

Elide’s fingers dug into his dug as he worked her, her hips uselessly trying to rut themselves against his hard abdomen. “Lorcan,” she moaned as his mouth switched sides, this time licking the underside of her breast before. 

She was almost sad when he moved on, kissing his way down her body, but she knew his final destination. 

Lorcan looked up at her when he hooked his fingers in the band of her panties. He pressed a kiss to the hollow of her hip. “These are cute.”

“F-fuck, they’re new,” she confessed. 

“Oh, yeah?” he asked, feigning interest as he stroked his thumb back and forth over the junction between her hip and pelvis. 

Elide bit her lip, thinking it was cute how unaware he was. She sat up to lean down, one arm beneath her breasts to push them up. Lips brushing the shell of his ear while her fingers slid over his shoulder, feeling the muscles ripple, Elide told him, “I bought them today.”

He stilled at her admission. 

Smug, she leaned back on her hands again, her head leaned to the side. 

Lorcan’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Did you now,” he asked, his voice hardly above a guttural growl. 

“Yeah,” she sighed. “You like when I wear purple, right?”

His hand slipped beneath her ass to yank the offending garment off. “I prefer nothing,” Lorcan told her. 

Elide shook when he dipped his mouth to her, thinking he would finally give her what she wanted. Of course, he didn’t, the fucking tease.

Lorcan’s hands slipped down to her ankles, and Elide remembered she still had her shoes on. He fiddled with the buckles before pulling them off, one by one. Next, he kissed the inside of her thighs, and she thought he really was trying to kill her. 

“Lorcan,” she half-moaned, half-whined. “Please, baby.”

“Please, what?” he asked, so close to her awaiting centre she could feel the vibrations of his deep voice.

Elide spread her legs wider. “Please make me feel good.”

He winked at her – the bastard winked – before dipping his mouth to her cunt. The instant his tongue touched her, Elide’s hips bucked. She slid her fingers into his hair, pulling on the silky strands. She could feel him chuckling against her as he alternated between long, slow strokes up her slit and little touches against her clit. 

Elide moaned, long and low. 

He worked her up slowly before paying his undivided attention to the little bundle of nerves. Elide started having trouble breathing, and the arm propping her up gave up. She crashed onto her back, her other hand joining the one in his hair. 

She vocalised her pleasure through pants of his name and moans as a delicious tension spread from her pelvis, slowly overtaking her entire body. Whatever noises she made only encouraged Lorcan. He feasted on her like he was on death row and she was his last meal. 

Elide had had good head before, this? Godly.

She was so close in minutes, her thighs attempting to trap him. Elide could feel it erupting within, and just as she came, she looked down and saw Lorcan looking up at her through his lashes. She cried out as her orgasm crested. Her back arched while she shuddered, and she pulled on his hair, not noticing how tight her grip was. 

Elide was limp, her heart almost pounding out of her chest as he rose above her. She pulled him down, hungrily kissing him. “You’re,” she panted, “still dressed.”

Lorcan ran his hands up her sides to her waist. He squeezed her once before pulling away. Elide’s whine was soothed the moment she saw him unbuttoning his shirt. She kneeled on shaky legs to help him. 

His lips found hers again, and she yanked his shirt out of his pants, too aroused for reason. Elide needed him bare, now. 

Once his shirt was off, she backed away and reclined against his headboard, knees bent. 

Lorcan almost tripped over himself in his haste to rid himself of his remaining articles of clothing. She crooked a finger towards, and he wrapped his arms around her, settling himself in the cradle of her thighs. 

She sighed as she finally felt his skin, so soft and warm. 

They exchanged slow, languid kisses, sinking into each other. Both were painfully aware how badly they still wanted each other. Elide nipped at his bottom lip, whispering, “Do you have a condom?”

Lorcan forced himself to part from her. “You’re sure?”

Elide nodded. “So sure.”

He reached over to his nightstand and fished one out of the drawer while Elide entertained herself by running her hand down his body. She wrapped one hand around his hard cock, grinning when he shook. Lorcan’s head fell against her shoulder, his eyes watching her as she moved her hand up and down, slowly. 

His hips canted forward of their own accord, and he bit her shoulder, “Not nice.”

“I never said I was,” she countered. 

Elide kissed his jaw as she took the condom out of his hand, carefully ripping the package. She tossed it aside after Lorcan took the condom from her and kneeled, her legs draped over his thighs. With her watching, he rolled the rubber on. His hands moved back to her hips, and he leaned down, his lips finding hers. “You’re good?”

She liked that he kept checking on her, but she just wanted him to fuck her. At that moment, it was the only thing she wanted. 

The boy above her laughed lowly. “Alright, princess, you don’t gotta beg.” 

She didn’t even care that she’d spoken her thoughts aloud, not when he finally pushed into her. And kept pushing into her.

Elide felt like her lungs were in her throat when he bottomed out. “Oh, fuck.”

Then, Lorcan started pumping into her. He kept his motions slow, torturously so. Elide gripped the pillow beneath her head, fighting to keep her eyes open. She wanted to appraise him in all his debased glory, the way the muscles beneath his amber skin rippled as he fucked her. 

She gave into the feeling, almost forgetting that her body was just a vessel for pleasure or for their connection as he gratified her. 

He had a bruising grip on her hips, and the muscles in his jaw clenched as he pulled out until just the tip remained inside her. 

Elide moaned as he thrusted in, harder than before. She nodded, “Oh, just- just like that, baby, please.”

Lorcan groaned her name. He fucked her a little harder, tilting her hips so he could reach even deeper. He watched her face, eyes locked on hers. “Princess, you’re so good,” he praised her, his thumb stroking her skin. “You’re amazing, you feel like fuckin’ heaven.”

Her teeth sunk into her reddened bottom lip, and he realised he wanted to be the one doing that. Lorcan lowered her hips as he moved, stretching over her. His weight was balanced on the hand he planted beside her head. 

He kissed her hard, his teeth digging into her lip. Lorcan lowered himself to his forearm while he lazily thrusted into her, lowering his gaze to where his dick was buried inside her. 

Elide’s hips moved back and forth, in time with him. She circled his neck with her arms, pressing her lips across his cheeks and nose until his mouth met hers. He breathed hard into her, one hand pressing her hips into his mattress. The other dipped between them, his thumb finding her clit. 

“Lorcan,” she cried out as he circled her clit. She could feel her climax building again, knowing it would be bigger and more intense than the previous one. Fuck, Elide wanted to come again, she wanted to come with him while he was inside of her. “Fuck me, fuck me, please.”

Lorcan grinned as he unleashed, snapping his hips into her. His kiss stole her ability to breathe and think straight. Harder and faster, he fucked her into the mattress, his thumb making tight circles against her clit. 

He could feel his own orgasm growing at the base of his spine. Lorcan pulled his lips from hers, burying his face into her neck. There was some sick satisfaction in the way Elide clung to him, her limbs shaking.

Panted versions of each other’s names filled the room. Each stroke, each touch forced them higher and higher. Elide could feel her toes curling, her thighs tightening. 

It slammed into her, forcing the air from her lungs in one last exclamation of Lorcan’s name. She came so hard her vision went white, and Elide shook, her legs clamping around his hips. She felt his thrusts stutter, his hands holding her tightly enough to bruise. 

“Ffffuck,” Lorcan moaned, his fingers digging into her indulgently. One of his hands moved to her peachy ass as they rocked together, slowly coming down from the high. 

Then, when they were done, they laid still, in complete silence save for soft pants. 

Beneath him, Elide started to shake. He cracked one eye open, promptly closing it when he saw her laughing. Lorcan grunted, not wanting to move yet. If they could stay like this for the rest of his life, Lorcan would die the happiest man on earth, he decided. Slowly, he managed to rouse himself enough to pull out of her and get up to dispose of the condom. 

He returned to her side, crawling in next to her and pulling the duvet over them. Lorcan draped a heavy arm over her waist to bring her closer. “Y’good?” he asked, eyes still closed. 

Elide brushed his hair back, gently scratching his scalp with her long nails. “Yes, Lorcan.” She allowed him to tug her even closer, his body curling around hers. “Are you good?”

Lorcan opened his eyes then. He gently cupped her jaw to kiss her again, deeply and with so much affection. “I’m good, Elide,” he whispered. “Better than good.”

She grinned, her eyes soft and half-lidded with satisfaction. “Me too.”

They wasted a little time kissing until she patted his chest. “Baby,” Elide whispered, “I should use the bathroom before I forget.” 

Lorcan rolled off of her. Luckily, he and Rowan had gotten one of the larger dorm rooms with an attached bathroom. He reclined against the pillows as Elide hurried off, snatching a spare t-shirt of his off his desk chair. She disappeared and gave him time to replay the night over in his mind. 

After a minute or so, someone softly cleared their throat, tearing him out of his daydreams.

Elide stood by the bathroom door, clad in his shirt. Her hair was messy from their romp and his wandering hands. 

He sucked in a breath, eyeing her from head to toe. 

She had looked stunningly gorgeous before, in her skirt and top, but there was something so indecent and arousing about her hair and bareness covered by a holey shirt. Elide looked at him, one brow raised. “Come and get me,” she teased, dropping her voice to this low, seductive tone, “you know you want to.”

Elide had never seen someone his size move so fluidly and with such speed. He had her bent over his shoulder before she could think. She shrieked, her laughter following them as he took her back to bed.

When he put her down, he did it carefully, gently.

Later, after they’d tired themselves out a third and fourth time, he draped himself over her, gathering her pliant body against his. “G’night, ‘lide,” he whispered, his words mashing together. 

She smiled, thinking back to the first time they’d met. “Sweet dreams, Lorcan.”

✵✵✵✵✵

an: enjoy my once a year sex scene and srry for my lil rowaelin h8r moment......I LUV THEM I DO.....also !! as a phil major who hates hates hates deductive logic (and also metaphysics is for LOSERS except i luv any and all christopher nolan movies 🫶🫶🫶🫶) i think elide would b rlly good at logic......anyher. hope u enjoyed !!

tag list (let me kno if u would like 2 b added): @sassyhobbits @empress-ofbloodshed @gwynethhberdara @the-regal-warrior @icecream52

[lilac-hecox]

Prompt: vampire!Damien! He's been bitten by Anthony :[ and now he's Edwarding it tf up trying to only drink blood from animals. But then he smells it. The sweetest scent he ever encountered. Ofc it's Ian. He desperately wants a little sip, only to find out Ian is fiercely protected by Anthony, who wants him for himself and will NOT share!! At least ianthony will have sex and Damien is allowed to watch. :3

Ian/Anthony, Damien/Ian (one sided) - Possessive

--

Damien drops the carcass in the woods, blood smeared along his mouth. There’s still a hunger deep in his stomach, something he can never seem to satisfy because he refuses to feed from human blood, and only drinks from animals. Even that makes him feel bad, ending a life that without him, would have continued, but he must feed that primal need for blood one way or another, and if he doesn’t feed from the deer, squirrels, raccoons, etc. that he hunts in the woods, then he knows he’ll attack someone, he’ll take a human life.

He wipes his slick mouth by dragging his sleeve across it, wiping away the blood. Damien wanders out of the woods, heading back to the safety of his home. It’s dusk, the sky blooming a dusty purple twilight above him. The fastest way to get home is to cut through the nearby park, but that’s risky since Damien had just fed and while he wasn’t starving, he wasn’t full either.

Damien can’t risk it and instead he cuts down a side street, near a popular hiking trail. He figures it’s the safer choice because most of the hikers would be gone before darkness falls too thickly over the area. As he is passing by the base of the trail, near the parking lot, he catches a scent on the wind, a delicious smell, one that makes Damien’s mouth water.

He should keep walking, he should control himself, but the smell is unlike anything Damien’s ever smelt before. He can’t resist at least seeing what or whom the scent belongs to. The lovely scent leads Damien to a car, fancy and expensive, and a man sitting half-way in the backseat, the door propped open, a band aid in his hand as he makes to apply it to a slight wound on his knee.

Damien can see the trickle of blood that runs down his leg, and he feels this deep and urgent hunger fill him. Maybe the man can sense that Damien is there, because he looks up, his eyebrows going up in surprise.

“I…” Damien says, his mind racing for words, for an explanation that doesn’t make him seem like a creep, or you know, a fucking vampire. “Sorry.”

The man stands, pressing the band aid to his wound and dampening the smell.

“No problem.”

“Are you okay?” Damien asks, the heady scent of the man’s blood still in the wind.

“I, uh, took a tumble on the trail, cut my knee. I’ll be fine.”

Damien nods and can’t help but lick his lips. The man begins to look uneasy.

“Uh, thanks for checking anyways,” the man adds.

He goes to get into his car and Damien just can’t let that scent get away. Something folds inside of him. He rushes forward and pins the man against the side of his own car.

“Get off me!” The man says, struggling.

“I’m sorry, just…just a sip, okay? I’ll just take a sip…”

“No!” The man says, trying to shove at Damien, but Damien is stronger than this human.

His fangs extend, but just as he goes to sink his teeth into that pale neck, taste that delicious scent, he’s tackled to the concrete of the parking lot.

Damien looks up to see a huge man sitting on top of him, his eyes black, his face contorted in anger.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The man hisses, curls strong hands around Damien’s wrists as he pins him. “I should fucking kill you.”

“Anthony,” the human that Damien had attempted to drink from says, gently, but firmly. The man on top of Damien turns his head and looks at the human. “Don’t. I’m okay, he didn’t bite me.”

“If I didn’t stop him, he would have!” The man…or vampire named Anthony says, growling down at Damien. “You think you can just go around biting whoever you fucking want? You think you can drink from my human?”

“I-I’m sorry!” Damien stammers, “I don’t even drink from humans. He just…he smelt so good…I, I’ve never smelt anything like it.”

This only makes Anthony growl deeper, curling his fingers around Damien’s wrist hard enough to nearly break the bone.

“You ever even attempt to look at him again and I’ll fucking kill you, got it?” Anthony snarls.

Damien nods. Mercifully, Anthony lets him up, but he blocks the human with his own burly body. Damien notes the black inky lines that swirl across the vampire’s hands, crawling up his neck. He shivers. Fuck. He knows who this is. Shayne had told him about a vampire, older, powerful, not to be fucked with.

Damien really must be lucky to get out of here alive, well, alive enough for a vampire.

“I’m sorry,” Damien tries but Anthony snarls, and then he tugs the smaller human man to him holding him around his waist possessively.

Damien dips his head and hurries away, using his vampiric speed to get home quicker, not trusting himself to not attack someone else on the way home. His head spins, and the worst of it is that he can’t forget the smell of the delicious human, the human that apparently belongs to a much older, much stronger vampire.

Fuck.

[cayleek1014]

Examination (Toji Fushiguro)

a/n: This is the first ever oneshot I'm ever posting on here, and I'm very nervous! Please give me any recommendations for any characters I should do or any critiques! I'm mostly comfortable with doing JJK characters as of right now, but I'd love to write for any other characters from another anime/show! I write with an oc in mind, but you can imagine the mc to be whoever you want and look however you want, but my oc will always be black!! I hope you enjoy this fic!

cw: dub-con, fingering, squirting, virgin!oc, gynecologist!Toji, age gap (oc is in early 20s, Toji is in mid-40s), praise, pet names (sweetheart), naive oc, perv!Toji

Word count: 1.1k words

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

“Kyoko Takahashi? Dr. Fushiguro will see you now,” Kyoko stood up nervously as she grabbed her purse, following the nurse to the back. It was her first time at an OBGYN, and she had no clue what to expect. All she knew was that a doctor looked…down there and made sure nothing was wrong. She also knows she could get contraceptives here as well. “You can sit right there on the table, and I’ll take your vitals,” the nurse instructed. Her blood pressure, height, weight, and temperature were all taken, and she felt a little more relaxed. “I’ll need you to disrobe and put one of the covers on and the doctor would be right there,” The nurse gave a warm smile as she rolled the equipment out and closed the door behind her. 

Disrobe? Meaning I have to be naked in front of my doctor?! She tried to calm her nerves as her hands shakily untied her shoes. She took all her clothes off, put on the gown, and then sat on the examination table. She played with her fingers as she waited, a bundle of nerves in her tummy. A few minutes passed, and the doctor walked in, holding a clipboard and pen. Her breath hitched in her throat at how attractive he was. This was her first time meeting him, but she didn’t expect him to be male and attractive. His piercing green eyes looked at her as he sat on the rolling stool at the computer. She noticed a small scar on the left side of his lip and wondered how he got it. 

“How are you doing today, Ms. Takahashi?” He gave her a warm smile. “F–fine,” She squeaked. He glanced at her, that smile still on her face. “I’m guessing this is your first appointment?” 

“H-how can you tell?” “You’re really nervous. Don’t worry, sweetheart; I’ll take good care of you, okay?” She nodded, butterflies filling her stomach at the pet name. “Thank you, Dr. Fushiguro.” “Please, call me Toji. I hate the formalities,” Toji eyed her up and down, and he could tell she had a good figure under the robe. He knows he’s not supposed to be attracted to his patients, but she was the prettiest one he ever had. He could tell she was naive since this was her first examination. He could get away with touching her in a non-doctor way. “I’m going to ask you some questions, and I need you to be honest with me, okay?” She nodded, and he turned towards her in the chair. “You’re 22 years old, correct?” “Yes.”

“Are you sexually active?” “N-no. I-I’m a virgin,” Toji tried to hide his excitement. “No need to be embarrassed, sweetie. Just waiting for the one?” “Yeah, and it seems like no one wants to have sex with me.” “That’s crazy! You’re a beautiful girl. I’m sure there’s someone,” She blushed slightly while shaking her head. Toji continued asking her questions about her body and if she had any issues. “Okay, I’m going to do an examination right now. You’re going to feel some discomfort, but it’s normal,” He stood up and put gloves on. “Lay back and put your feet on these and spread your legs,” she nervously laid back on the table and put her feet up, but kept her knees together. “You’re gonna have to spread your legs, sweetheart. I need to check you out,” He sat on the stool and rolled over to her. “I have to spread you open.” “Spread me…open?!” He chuckled at her. “Yes, love. How else am I gonna see if everything is okay down there?” “By an x-ray?” She was beyond nervous. She didn’t know he would be looking in her. “Dr. Toji, I’m very nervous,” “It’s normal to be nervous. But I’m right here to comfort you, okay? Just close your eyes and focus on my voice. Don’t think about what I’m about to do, okay? Can you do that for me?” She nodded, and he grabbed her legs, spreading them open. She was glistening already, and he had to hide his smirk. He rubbed his gloved fingers against her lips, and they were covered in her slick. “I’m gonna insert the tool, okay? You’ll feel some slight discomfort,” He did his routine examination and determined everything was good.

 “You did so well for me, sweetie,” He took the tool out and set it on the tray to be cleaned later. “I have one more thing to do, okay? I have to feel your ovaries and uterus to see if there’s any fibroids there,” This was his favorite part; inserting his fingers in his patients and watching them squirm as he pressed against their walls to check for “fibroids.” When it was his sick way of making them cum. He wouldn’t do this to everyone, just the ones he found attractive and were easily flustered. 

And when someone as naive as Kyoko dropped into his hold, he couldn’t resist. He held her thigh down with one hand, and with the other, he rubbed his fingers against her clit. He eased one finger inside her, her walls already clenching around him. “Kyoko, ya gotta loosen up, love. It’s gonna hurt for a little bit, but ya have to relax,” She took a deep breath and exhaled. Toji was able to put his finger in, and she squirmed. She is a virgin; he thought as he moved his finger around her walls. “Your finger is too big,” She whined. If you think that’s big… “It’s okay, sweetheart. I know you can handle it. I’m gonna try to put the other finger in,” He attempted to fit another finger in, and with the help of some lube, he could fit it. 

He moved his gloved fingers in and out of her, a squelching sound filling the room. He pressed against her walls, checking what he was supposed to, and felt nothing. He continued moving his fingers around, eventually finding the spot he sought: her g-spot. How did he know he found it? Well, Kyoko practically jumped off the table when he found it. “T-that felt weird,” He pressed the spot again, earning a slight whine from her. “How did that feel?”

“G–good. Is this a part of the exam?”

“It is. I’ve got to make sure everything is working correctly, princess,” The pet name sent butterflies to her stomach. 

Toji picked up the pace, and the volume of her moans and whimpers gradually got louder. He watched her face contorting in pleasure as he kept hitting that spot, her moans fueling the boner growing in his slacks. She felt a coiling sensation in her stomach, and her eyes rolled back as she came on Toji’s fingers. “Did I pee?!” Toji looked up at her, grinning. “No, sweetheart, you squirted. How about we test something bigger, eh?” He stood up, and her eyes widened at the size of the bulge. “Think you can handle this?” 

[phykios]

In All My Dreams I Drown, part one [read on ao3]

It was not shaping up to be the best of days so far. 

First, the storm had rattled one of Percy’s bunkmates so thoroughly he had vomited all over his shoes. Then his captain had the incompetency to allow his ship to be overrun by pirates. There was a perfectly fine wind which could have easily been harnessed to run, if only the captain and his lieutenant were not so fond of blowing wind up each other’s asses.

And now this. 

“What have we here?” Blocking the way out of the galley was a tall, broad, angry-looking woman, dressed in stained trousers and a thick black, jacket with the sleeves torn off. Her very form seemed to fill the ship, her shaggy, dull brown hair nearly scraping the roof of the hold. Her arms were criss-crossed with scar tissue, old, raised, colorless welts of skin which spoke to a long history of violence–a successful one–and her huge fist was wrapped around a wicked looking sword. “A rat hiding amongst the chickens?” she sneered.

With his back against the wall, a weapon in his face, and little time to think, Percy deferred to one of his oldest and most well-honed skills. 

“Well?” said the pirate, for that was surely what she was, her sword aimed directly at his heart. “Out with it–who are you?”

His hands raised, he spoke quietly, calmly, as if to a vicious animal. “My name is Percy Jackson,” he said. “And I happen to be a very good cook.” 

The woman narrowed her eyes, clearly unconvinced. And irritated.

Percy just grinned.

Her companion, a slenderer man with a slant to his mouth that Percy thought he could like, leaned over to whisper to her. “We do need a cook,” he heard, softly and clearly not meant for Percy’s ear. 

“Have an open position, then, do you?” He asked, unrepentant, even as the woman glared at him with all the force of an ax to the face. “You’re in luck–it appears I am in need of a new employer.” 

Percy couldn’t quite remember who it was who had told him that even pirate ships needed a good cook. If he had had the time, he probably could have conjured the man’s face in the corners of his memory, a hazy image of some gnarled old sailor resting his feet on one of the docks of St. Augustine, where Percy had spent his youth. The day had probably been hot, the sunshine hazy, and he had probably run away from his mother’s dreadful landlord yet again, choosing to while away the daylight as far from the man’s foul stench as possible. Some man, maybe one who had known his mother long ago, may have pulled him aside out of the way of the town guards, shoving him down behind some sea-rotted wood, kept him quiet and kept him occupied until the coast was clear, passing on an old sailor’s knowledge to a child.

The woman growled, but she lowered her sword, acquiescing. “Fine,” she rasped. “We’ll let the captain decide what to do with you.” Then, grabbing hold of his arm, she dragged him along behind her, stomping up to the deck, while her partner trailed behind them, looking on bemusedly. 

Whoever that man had been, though, Percy could have gotten down on his knees and thanked him. Or paid for his drink at least. 

Provided this captain deigned to let him live, of course. If he had to die, he’d vastly prefer the plank to the sword. He was a rather good swimmer, for a sailor. 

Blinking as he was pushed into the bright sunlight, it took a moment for his vision to clear. The deck was a right mess, splintered wood and ruined supplies scattered about with a handful of dead bodies. No one Percy had personally been fond of, but still. He was pleased to see that the enemy crew had at least some concept of restraint. Maybe they were even inclined to be merciful. 

One glance up towards the mast was quick to rid Percy of that thought.

Bloody, beaten, and tied to the mizzenmast was the merchant captain, a desperate, wrenching look of disbelief on his bruised face.

Percy couldn’t not repress a small snort of laughter when he saw the man. 

The woman at his back noticed. “You aren’t anxious for the state of your captain?”

But he just shrugged. “He was my boss, not my friend.” He hadn’t even been a part of the crew for very long, anyway. Not nearly long enough to call it a home. He’d only joined this ship a month ago, in Havana, because it was headed in the right direction. “And, if I am at liberty to say, he had far too high an opinion of himself and his skills, was nasty on a good day and horrible on the bottle, and he didn’t know his business. Clearly,” he said, gesturing to his new piratical associates. “The wind and sea being what it was, with a little shortening of the sail and adjustment, we could have escaped you. Now, that isn’t a comment on your skill, mind,” he said at the woman’s scowl. “I don’t know your ship or your crew. Perhaps your ship is fast and every one of your sailors knows their business. But even so, it was a long shot. You’d have at least needed to give chase. But we didn’t even try. This was easy pickings, miss.” 

She harrumphed at the address. 

“Ah,” said Percy, “forgive me. Ma’am.” Her eyes narrowed, but she made no sound. 

Though her companion let out a short laugh. “He’s got you there.” 

The merchant captain moaned. Though if it was because of Percy’s rebuke, or just his own delirious pain, could not be determined. 

“I thought you were a cook?” The woman demanded. 

“I’ve worn many hats, ma’am,” he said by way of explanation. He’d been on a dozen different ships, and had had twice as many jobs. That Percy was more proficient in a kitchen than a galley was a distinction that these pirates didn’t need to know. He would cook for them, if that was what they wanted, until he made it to a port, and could find himself a better berth. 

Or maybe he’d just wait until night fell, and go over the side. 

“Gentlemen!” Came the cry from up on the quarterdeck. From behind the mast, a man appeared, tall and blond with a scar across his lip, brandishing a straight sword which gleamed gold in the sunlight. 

The pirate captain, Percy presumed. 

“You have all fought well, and honorably,” said the man, addressing the crew. “Know this: now that the fight is over, you have nothing more to fear from us today.”

After that, things were fairly regular. The surrender negotiated, terms were carried out, as cargo began to be shuttled on board the enemy ship, various crates and barrels of food and sugar and silk. 

And one cook. 

“Get a move on,” the woman pirate grunted, roughly shoving him across the way to her ship, nearly unbalancing the precariously placed ramp, and causing her fellow pirates to curse her name as they struggled not to lose their footing. “No dawdling.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Percy muttered, just loud enough for her to hear. 

The next few moments were entirely predictable. The woman, no longer content to tolerate Percy’s attitude without some sort of repercussion, grabbed his shoulder, and turned him around, her fist already moving on its way to collide with his face. But Percy, having performed similar maneuvers for most of his life, was able to dodge, ducking out of the way, freeing his shoulder from her grasp, and letting gravity do most of the work as she plunged off of the ramp, and into the water, with a mighty splash. She resurfaced, spitting salt water and threats of certain harm. 

For a few, tense seconds, there was silence. Then, just as Percy was sure the woman’s companion would send him to join her, only with an extra knife in his gut, he laughed instead, setting off a round of chuckles, wheezes, and guffaws from the rest of the pirates. 

He knelt down, peeking over the edge of the ramp with an impish grin. “You alright there, love?” 

“I’M GOING TO KILL THAT COOK!”

“Go on with you, then,” he said, waving Percy off. “Mr. McCowen will get you settled while I deal with Clarisse here.” 

Another man then, presumably Mr. McCowen, greeted him with a stony, unamused stare, before grabbing his arm roughly, and hauling him off towards the quarterdeck. 

He was instructed in his manners by the woman named Clarisse, it seemed. 

McCowen deposited him in front of the man he had seen earlier, with the long sword, which he was currently sharpening, seated on a stray barrel at the back of the quarterdeck. The man in question–the captain, Percy remembered–glanced up at them, seeming more bemused than surprised by their sudden appearance. “And this is…?”

“Rodriguez says he’s a cook,” growled McCowen through a Scots accent as thick and strong as hardtack. 

That got the captain’s attention. “Does he now?” He put his whetstone aside, and stood, looking Percy up and down. “Well, we have been running Mr. Valdez ragged for some time now. I’m sure he would appreciate the relief. Name?” 

“Jackson, sir. Percy Jackson.” 

“You a navy boy?”

“No, sir.” Percy had been at sea in one way or another for well over a decade. He’d known many a navy man. They had a way about them. Percy lacked all that structure. He was too impertinent for it. Too attached to his own freedom. He’d gone over the side of two ships and gotten into three separate brawls when it looked like he was about to be press ganged. He wasn’t sure how a pirate captain could make that mistake. 

“Then why do you keep calling me ‘sir?’”

“I was taught to respect my betters.” 

The other man, McCowen, scoffed. “You just tossed Clarisse overboard.” 

“Then she must not have been my better.” 

“And me?” The captain asked. Percy looked at him. Fully prepared to acquiesce to shut him up. 

But… there was something about his gaze. 

“That remains to be seen,” he said, foregoing the “sir” for the moment. Honestly, what captain, particularly a non-naval captain, didn't want to be called ‘sir’? Twelve-year-old midshipmen were awarded the privilege; surely a grown man would demand similar deference from his crew. Particularly a pirate crew.

The captain held his gaze for a moment, blue eyes piercing right through him. His hand rested on the pommel of his sword–loose, untensed. For now. “In any case,” he said, shrugging, “it’s not my decision anyway. The captain will need to speak with you before any offers of employment can be made.” 

Percy started. “You’re… not the captain?”

“He’s not,” came a new, unfamiliar voice from just behind his head.

Whipping around, Percy discovered the source of the strange, light voice which had just spoken in his ear, and saw…

He swallowed. 

It was a woman. Not merely a woman, no, but perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. She wore a lady’s shirt, loose, tied about her waist with a wide belt on which hung a short sheath fit for a dagger. The lace on her sleeves, though stained, was intact, meticulously well-cared for, as were her men’s trousers and her black, leather boots. Around her neck, she wore a gold chain, on which hung a large ring, and her ears were studded with diamonds–no doubt from a former conquest. Yet even such jewels were outshone by her hair, a cascade of golden curls which were drawn about the nape of her neck, and her eyes, a curious, stormy gray, which were set in a cold, hard stare. 

If McCowen had taken lessons in intimidation from the woman named Clarisse, perhaps Clarisse could stand for a few lectures with this woman. 

“Captain on deck!” called the man with the scar on his lip, somewhat redundantly, Percy thought. It wasn’t as though every eye on the ship was not already fixed on them, a little play for their general amusement of the crew. 

“Thank you, Mr. Grace,” said the captain, her eyes never wavering. “And who is your friend?” 

The question was not directed at him, which was all well, as Percy still found it hard to speak. 

Standing from his seat, Mr. Grace, apparently satisfied with his work, sheathed his sword, a measure surely meant to calm, to pacify, to ease his tension. Percy wasn’t certain it was working. Fixed in place by that stony gaze, he found himself fighting the urge to stand taller, to meet it head on, and to overcome. 

A misplaced attempt to intimidate a pirate captain would surely produce a less than favorable outcome. 

“Mr. Jackson, ma’am,” said Mr. Grace. “I believe Mr. Rodriguez intended to introduce him to you as our potential new cook.”

“I see.”  The captain stepped closer to him, her curls swaying gently in the sea breeze. She was a little bit shorter than him, he noticed, though no less fierce and intimidating for it. “And would that be before or after Mr. Jackson here sent Mrs. Rodriguez over the side?” 

There was a small round of chuckles from the assembled crew. Even Mr. Grace cracked a smile. From the corner of his eye, Percy saw the Mrs. Rodriguez in question, sopping wet and glowering up at him from the side of the lower deck as her… husband, Percy supposed… cheerfully squeezed water from her red bandana, smirking up at the quarterdeck. 

Percy swallowed. “That would be before, ma’am.” He winced as his voice cracked, just a touch. Dry throat. Not enough water. Probably. “But, if there is still to be an offer of employment, then I could be available to you and your crew.” 

“Could you?” She asked, quietly. It was not a question which required an answer. 

And yet. “If you’ll have me.”

That, finally, got a rise out of her. “And why should I?” She asked him, raising a perfect brow. “You’ve belittled my quartermaster, made a mockery of my crew–”

“She attacked me first!”

“–And now you’ve interrupted your captain while she is speaking,” she finished. 

“My captain?” he asked, unable to keep the grin off his face. 

A pause, as she pursed her lips, clearly trying to keep her own grin from making an appearance. 

“I’m told you don’t have a cook,” Percy said, taking the initiative. “As I’m told I can make a good meal, as well.” 

Her eyes narrowed, and she looked over his shoulder, where Percy could hear Mrs. Rodriguez going below. 

Mr. Grace, her quartermaster, stepped up to them, nearly coming between them. At some point, without him noticing, Percy and the captain had begun inching closer towards each other. He was so close, now, he could see the little freckles which dotted around the shape of her lips. “My lady,” he said. “A word, if you please?”

With one final significant look to Percy, the captain turned away from him, joining Mr. Grace in the far corner of the quarterdeck for private speech. Percy made to follow them, only to be stopped by McCowen’s firm hand on his shoulder. 

My lady? Well, that was an unexpected honorific. Percy had heard about a small handful of women captains, but normally they preferred the title of ‘captain’ above all else. 

Who was this woman? And what kind of respect had she gained from this crew? 

He turned to McCowen, “How long have you been on this ship?” He asked.

“About a year,” he said. 

“Is that long for the crew, or short?”

“Short,” McCowen replied, curtly. “Most people have been there for 2 or 3 years.” 

That was indeed a long time for a pirate crew. “And how long has your captain been the captain?”

That, unlike everything else, caused McCowen to stiffen. “Our lady has always been the captain. This is her ship.” 

There was that ‘lady’ again. So it wasn’t just Mr. Grace. It was the norm here. The Lady Captain.

Fascinating.

“What’s her name?”

McCowen jerked back. “What?”

“The captain–I mean, the lady, or whatever she’s called. A crew like this, I’d have to have heard of her. Of all of you.”  

The pirate frowned. “I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know your own captain's name?”

“No.” He leaned close, his Scots accent making the growl gruffer. “And if you want a chance at your hands for cooking, you won’t be asking her Ladyship, either.” 

Her Ladyship. That carried even more weight than a mere ‘our lady.’ 

He glanced back up at the captain and Mr. Grace. If they let him stay, curiosity was probably going to keep him here at least to the next port.

If they didn’t let him stay, hopefully they’d just throw him over the side without any harm to his person. That may be the best thing for him. He suspected staying, getting entangled with these people, would end poorly. 

But damn if he wasn’t interested. 

“Jackson!” called the captain. Having finished her conversation with Mr. Grace, apparently, she beckoned him towards her, already headed down the stairs to the great cabin. “Come.” 

McCowen, very helpfully, pushed him forward. He seemed disappointed when Percy didn’t trip and fall on his face. 

Percy smirked, where no one but the wall could see him. That was one thing about Percy Jackson on board a ship. He didn’t step a toe wrong on board. His impertinence might get him in trouble with a crew or seven, but his sailing never had. He was born for the sea. He even had a trident shaped birthmark to prove it. His mother used to poke at it when he was in the bath, and say it meant he was going to be a great sailor, like his father had been. 

The great cabin was a finely appointed one–far nicer than the merchant ship he had just come off of. Large, open, and airy, it even had an actual door, not merely a temporary partition. The walls, interrupted only by the presence of a large, full bookshelf, were decorated with beautiful stamped paper, silver on blue-green, shimmering in the light which played on it through the woven lace curtains which hung over the wide windows. There was a great deal of it, and it must have been a costly import from China all the way out here. She probably noted his eyes widening. 

“Surprised?” she asked. She was sitting down in her chair, observing him from across her desk. 

“Yes, my lady,” he said, and then reconsidered. “Or captain. I’m not sure what you prefer. But I have never seen a cabin like this. Your ability to maintain such a lifestyle speaks to your success. How strange it is that I’ve never heard of your exploits.”

“I make it a point not to have my exploits heard,” she replied, busying her hands with the tidying of various papers and books on her desk. There was a stack of journals, four high, three of them black, leatherbound, and one in a richly hued red. “You seem quite keen for a new berth, Mr. Jackson. Why?”

“Need I remind you, captain, of the fate of my previous ship?” 

“She still sails,” she said. “There are competent men who can take command of her. Mr. Grace and his men know better than to knock about an enemy vessel too poorly.”

Percy raised an eyebrow, “Well, then I’ll take my leave.” He didn’t move. But he really hadn’t thought she’d let the others go. “Though I don’t know if I can keep all of this,” he waved a hand, but not at her particularly majestic cabin, but at the particularly majestic creature that occupied it, “to myself.” 

She narrowed her eyes. “That path is now closed to you,” she snapped. Her eyes raked over him again, clearly trying to figure him out. And unable to. It rattled her so, a far cry from her calm demeanor above decks. “Why did you volunteer yourself?” 

“Well, I suppose I really thought you were going to light the boat aflame, captain,” he said. “I know a great deal of pirates. And most of them that level swords at your throat and debate killing you need to be sold on the usefulness of your survival.” 

“Clarisse threatened a cook who wasn’t fighting back?” She asked, more annoyed than angry. “I see. But you still seem eager to join.” 

“I didn’t like that ship,” he admitted. “I only joined because a press gang was sweeping through Havana and I know in my bones I’m not meant to be a navy boy.” 

“You’d prefer a pirate’s berth?”

“I’ve served on many ships, my lady,” he said, “but never a pirate one.” 

“You’d prefer it to the Navy.” 

“Oh yes.” 

“Why?” She seemed almost genuinely curious. “No threat of hanging with the Navy. You get prizes, and don’t have to worry about the consequences.” 

“You also can’t find your own way in the Navy,” he said. “I have no desire to find a ship in the Caribbean, and then find myself shipped off to India or the Mediterranean.” It was the truth. “I want to be where I am. I want to be able to go where I need to be.” 

“And where is that?” The captain asked.

Percy was silent, for a moment. “I don’t know yet.” He admitted. “I’m looking for someone. And I need to be able to search for this person on my own terms. Not subject to the whims of a bunch of old men on an upjumped Island across an ocean.” 

“You’re looking for someone?” the captain asked, quietly.

He nodded. 

For some odd reason, that seemed to relax her. “I understand how you feel, Jackson.” She tapped her fingers on top of her pile of journals, her nails thumping against the red leather. “I’m looking for someone, as well.” 

Something passed between them–a kind of understanding. The world was very big, and it was all too easy for someone to disappear into it. All too easy to lose someone in it. 

She sighed, opening a black journal, and taking out an inkpot from her desk. “Go and speak to Mr. Valdez,” she told him. “He’s been our reserve cook for a while now. He’ll get you settled. I’m sure he’ll be glad to have his duties lessened.” 

Percy blinked. That had been… simpler than he expected. “Thank you, ma’am.” 

“My lady, if you please, Mr. Jackson,” she instructed, her eyes on her paper.

So that was how it was going to be. “My lady.” He thought about bowing, then thought better of it. “May I have the pleasure of knowing the name of my new ship?” 

“You now serve aboard the Argo.” She scribbled something on the parchment, her statement clearly intended as a sort of dismissal. 

“The Argo?” He asked, taken aback. “A bold move to name one’s ship after the vessel which killed her master.” 

That got her attention. She raised her eyes to him, head tilted curiously. “A sailor who knows his classics?” she hummed. 

“My mother taught me,” he blurted out, then internally cursed himself. 

He was not here to make intimate friends. The less he shared of himself, the better. Especially with his captain. 

“Indeed,” she said. For a heartbeat, it seemed as though she wished to say more. But then she turned back to her paper. “You may go, Mr. Jackson.” He slipped out of the cabin, breathing a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind him. He’d never heard of the Argo before, nor her singularly striking captain, but he supposed it could have been much worse. He could have been made an unwitting guest of the fearsome ship The Lightning Thief.

[sweetestofchaos]

You know the really cute found family anime where there will be a group of gangsters/killers and they end up with a child for whatever reason? They are all so freaking tough and badass but just turn into giant oversized pups when the child is around??

I wanna write a fic like that so damn badly. I'm watching Buddy Daddies on crunchyroll and it isn't helping the urge at all.

I wanna write Namson (namjoon/jackson) as ruthless hitmen who only smile at their kid. I wanna throw all the members of Monsta X into the middle of a heist gone wrong because they found a kid instead of a grand jewel. I wanna see all of Ateez's freeze like dial up when they get called uncles while their legs get hugged tightly by little arms!

Damnit, am I might really have to fucking create a daddy gang universe just for myself to scream about...

And of course while writing this an idea hit me. What if I create a daycare/school for children of different gangs? Like it's the one place where none of the hard killer bs is allowed and everyone agrees to follow the rules because they want the kids to stay innocent for as long as they can 🥹

Ateez' Mingi is dropping off his son when he sees that Got7's Jaebeom has parked in his spot. Mingi is ready to throw hands and before anything bad can happen, Mingi's son and Jaebeom's son run to each other with their arms wide open for a hug. Now Mingi and Jaebeom are just standing there glaring at each other while their kids are talking about making playdates at each other's house...🤭

Monsta X's Shownu is at parent's day and is eating a brownie with his daughter when he over hears that Stray Kid's Felix is the one that made them....👀

BTS's Jimin is trying to get his daughter's friend to stop crying because the poor kid tripped over his shoe laces. Well here comes Shinee's Taemin ready to murder whoever made his son cry 😠 but he ends up thanking Jimin for cleaning the cut on his son's knee and putting a bright pink Hello Kitty bandage on it....

...Someone stop my brain. I can't keep creating whole ass universe in my mind 😅

[omgkalyppso]

For the 30 questions ask meme:

5, 9, 11 for étoile!!!

And 4, 5 for whoever is your most recently played bg3 character 👀

Thank you for the ask!! (:

Étoile

5. Describe their idle animations!

Elbows to knee crunches. Meditating cross-legged (+ Mourning Frost laid across their lap after it's reforged). Reading cross-legged. Playing their flute (aaaabcbd. aaaabcbg).

9. What’s the significance behind your Tav’s name?

Étoile is the child of my skyrim dragonborn oc Wylla and the skyrim stolen-npc-now-oc-adjacent Aranea Ienith, who worshipped the Daedric Prince Azura and had a quest to cleanse Azura's Star. It is for this star that Étoile was named in that setting and in my thought process. In Faerûn, Étoile was named for the stars that Aranea would have come to love after having spent her youth in Menzoberranzan in the Underdark.

11. What is your Tav’s go-to comfort food?

You may be interested in the answer to their Favorite Foods from last night.

But I'll say something new.

I think when Étoile is tempted to seek out comfort food that they want something rich in different textures — so it can't be a homogeneous soup or pie. Still, this might be just an excuse for me to say some kind of tacos / taco-like dish, with crisp vegetables and soft fruit, protein and sauce, and something to hold it together.

Inithray

My most recently played Tav is for an ongoing evil multiplayer campaign with some of my usual dnd friends. They can't know about my full concept for him because they haven't even reached Act 2 in their personal playthroughs, but I like to think that Inithray is some manner of undead — and an experiment of Vlaakith's, to see how long such a creation of hers can "live" after an initial interaction of her magic, or how far her influence extends in the Great Wheel cosmology as he's sent to different planes.

He is magically and culturally, her creature. Nothing she could do would shock or shake him.

Inithray has resulted in the deaths of Damays and Nymessa so far. I asked the party if they wanted to save Arabella because if so they didn't want me / Inithray leading the conversation; and they decided that the way their characters want to be evil might extend no further than stealing the idol of Silvanus and killing the druids but not aligning with the Goblins. We'll see.

Anyway!

4. What would your Tav’s romance scenes look like? How many would they have?

A lot of the githyanki specific dialogue options demonstrate their isolation, which will be more appropriate for my solo (probably not evil aligned) Tav, Yar'sul, but don't exactly suit Inithray. I think Inithray would need githyanki player characters to demonstrate their aptitude / knowledge of their own culture at the very least, if not an understanding of the world. He's attracted to power, but he's interested in someone who can carry a conversation with interest or experience, rather than simply charm.

Regardless of player race, Inithray will doubtlessly also come on (too) strong like the other resident githyanki once his interest's been captured. His bluntness will be more about visions / fantasies about what the player character might look like in ecstasy rather than scent.

His Act 1 romance scene would include an observation about how cool / clammy he is, with a question as to whether that's because he's a gith from non-githyanki or if it's because he's from the astral plane from a githyanki. He'll say yes either way, with an Insight check to see that he's lying. If you press into his mind then you do not fully find your answer, but from Inithray's perspective you remember hands burning with the fire-ice of divine energy reaching into your heart. The player character can decide if this kills the mood.

If it doesn't, then I think the player character is given two opportunities to use force in their intimacy; maybe a default choice of pulling his hair / shoving him against the ground and some class specifics. With visible confusion (/disappointment?) if the player character is gentle with him.

His Act 1 romance scene can no longer trigger once the player character has confronted Vlaakith in the crèche.

Inithray's Act 2 romance scene does not trigger if the player character was gentle with him in Act 1 but it opens him up to being willing to reject Vlaakith in Act 3. You cannot use power (or logic) to alter his allegiance / worship while his romance is active.

His Act 2 romance scene includes a(n optional) challenge. I won't step too far on Lae'zel's battle's toes; it can be a race. Either from one landmark and back to the starting point, or up a mountain. If it's to a landmark and back then when you get to the landmark he gets to use his githyanki psionics to jump like a grasshopper back to the starting point, and if you're racing up a mountain then he does the same from the beginning. A Perception check to see that he's about to jump lets you use a spell or a rock on his ankle to set him off balance, or as a githyanki, to do the same.

Making it through the race gets him out of breath and half laughing, reaching out to run his hands up the back of the player character's head (falling to his knees to do so for shorter body types) to share adrenaline high kisses.

One of the options to reject his challenge includes an accusation about how he just wants to show off, and Inithray declares that if he wanted to show off then he would do something altogether darker, and call upon his warlock magic to coalesce in blue-black shapes and smoke around his hand and his temple, and the player character can respond "Show me." to still pursue the night rather than reject him outright.

His Act 3 romance scene would require me thinking up a personal quest / how to account for whatever the player decides to do about Vlaakith, but either it can be tentative and sweet where he confesses that he's confident that Vlaakith need only look at him for him to fall to pieces; or full of dark promises where he will see the player character's power secured and the city razed for its transgressions against them if they wish it.

5. Describe their idle animations!

Reading a book. Reading a slate. Juggling a ball in one hand while counting his fingers up and down on his opposite hand, "It's good for coordination." Dicing ingredients at a little alchemy table at his tent.