#pieces of air in the epic

[rustbeltjessie]

Brenda Hillman, from Pieces of Air in the Epic

Wind Treaties

Between church bells

I held its breath:

air coming from half-states

it has visited where

dread meets ecstasy’s skid-mark.

Allow us, mighty and

bruised oxygen. And I

imagined a black square

made of ariadne-thread

around the great city,

winds coming from corners

such that talking would

never cease. Talking should

never cease, heads bent

over documents allowing distinction

or zhivagoing solitudes, stitches

at the edges of

dignity. Decades of give-it-away

while these winds worked.

Lamps flickering in the

stable districts. Symbolic weight

being added to bodies

walking in ordinary courtship

outfits, in a park.

[tomatoart]

calm cabin life

[merriclo]

not to brag but i finished the earth temple in skyward sword without a guide

[gamermattsgf]

The favour // fwb Chris

Warnings: (there’s a lot) heavy smut / dom Chris x dom fem reader / fingering / cunilingus / face sitting / wet grinding / collar kink / exhibition kink / riding / overstimulation / praise kink / degradation kink / doggy / princess kink / hair pulling / choke kink / wave riding / cream pie / breeding kink / slapping / sadism + masochism / cockwarming (erm… sorta)

Summary: you and Chris are best friends. And you just can’t seem to get off. Chris offers to help you. And it’s as simple as that.

Author’s notes: ah yes, my ‘politically correct’ piece of writing. If you do not like it. Y’all can leave it… go on I’ll wait. BUT ANYWAYS an epic battle of top vs top, goddamn, complete switch up from what I usually write, since I’m kinda known for writing submissive shit and mommy kinks hehe. I was so scared to publish this one but fuck it. I’m too deep in now to stop.

“Don’t try to take it further, focus on the friendship, get a little sidetracked…” - Best friends, The Weekend

‘You’re serious?’ Chris sputters with his eyebrows raised in disbelief and a small smirk on his face.

You shake your head and shrug your shoulders ‘I’m being dead serious bro, no one has ever been able to get me off’.

Chris blows out a flabbergasted breath, both of you lying side by side on your backs on top of his bed. He has his hands leisurely rested on his stomach, his fingers intertwined as his head sinks further into one of the pillows.

Chris and you are best friends. But you’re also both players. You don’t have a preference, you don’t care, you just like to get people off. And then whenever you hang out, you tell each other about your various different escapades.

It’s fun. You always enjoy hearing about the mirage of strange stories he tells you with little smirks over his face.

You sit in contemplative silence for a bit, yourself feeling a little awkward after expelling that uncalled for fact about your sexual wellbeing.

The white ceiling blurs as you refocus your eyes, but then you hear the bedcovers crinkle beside you, and then the sound of Chris’ body rolling over to you echoes within your ears.

Your breath hitches as he tosses one of his legs over your lying one, before hoisting his body over it completely. Then he sits back on his calves, his knees sinking into the mattress as his arms shoot out in front of him.

‘Chris what the fuck are you doing’.

His hands curl around the backs of your knees and you squeak a little in surprise as he flexes his arms to pull you vigorously toward him. Then he falls forward, catching himself with his hands on either side of your head. Suddenly you feel his lower body press up onto your hips.

‘What the fuck do you mean ‘what am I doing?’?’

He spits sarcastically, groaning in effort as he lowers down further onto you by bending his elbows and lying them down onto the mattress.

‘I’m getting you off’ he mumbles before immediately nuzzling his nose into your neck. Your voice falters and your mouth drops open. Your thighs desperately want to squeeze together but Chris’ thick hips weighting down on your core prevent this.

‘If other guys can’t do it for you then I will’

‘Chris-’ you sputter, slightly in amusement, but also slightly in shock at the image of his body on top of yours. You feel his tongue, and it slicks out quickly onto your neck, the consistency hot and soft as your skin grazes his lips.

‘Let’s make some bruises first though…’ he muses teasingly into your neck. Then his mouth bites down and you hiss, finally putting your shaking hands to good use by clawing them at his shoulder blades.

He continues to kiss, and you throb, liquids trickling and your stomach churning in desire. Your nails curl and they make a slow descent down his back as you pant into the air. Chris smirks smugly into your neck, knowing that he already has you dripping wet for him.

‘Go on… scratch my back all up, I dare you’

He drawls out gleefully, finding the roots of your hair after one of his hands slithers under your head to tug it back aggressively.

You whimper, but Chris only licks his lips at the unmarked skin, his mouth watering at the attractive angle your head is tilted at. He can’t wait to make your eyes roll into the back of your head. He dives in again, and muffles his groans with your neck at the feeling of your back arching up welcomingly into his touch.

‘Chris…’ you try again, but it comes out as more of a sigh since you can no longer speak anymore words.

Suddenly he detaches his mouth from your neck, slithering his body down the length of yours as his nose brushes against every inch of your clothed figure on his way down. Your breathing is laboured, and you have to sit up onto your elbows to look down lustfully at the way his arms snake their way underneath your thighs, his chin resting on your pubic bone before he effortlessly lifts your calves up onto his shoulders.

‘Chris- a-are you seriously gonna’ you start before swallowing meekly and cutting yourself off at his eye roll.

‘When have I ever said something I didn’t mean, huh?’

His hands feel their way up to the waistband of your sweats before he hooks his fingers into it and slowly pulls it away. He goes until your panties are exposed to him and again, you try to squeeze your thighs together in anticipation, but it only ends up trapping Chris’ head into a firm lock.

He smirks, before dipping his head down and softly kissing your clothed centre. You drip behind your panties when you feel his lips press against the burning skin, your heart beating in your throat. You swallow harshly again, your cheeks a heavily flushed pink, before Chris looks up once more with dilated pupils.

‘I’ve wanted to eat you out for so fucking long…’

Your back arches yet again in desire, but it doesn’t surprise you, both Chris and you hung out quite a lot, and went into very sexually explicit detail when you chatted, hence the obvious attraction. However, it doesn’t make it any less hot as he slides his hands up once again to slip off your last layer.

He allows your legs to drop from his shoulders for just a second so that he can take off both your sweats and your panties, leaving yourself exposed to his wet, cherry red mouth.

‘Please… squeeze your thighs hard baby, really wanna feel you, want you to fucking suffocate me with these pretty legs’

He pleads, his hands splaying out widely onto your inner thighs as he trails them back up to your core feverishly, admiring them and spreading your legs open for him as he goes before he props your legs back up onto his shoulders.

‘I’m gonna eat you out so good… make you think I’m the only man in the world capable enough to handle you…’

‘Please…’ is all you can breathe in return before a smirk carves into Chris’ face again at being able to coax you into begging for him.

‘That’s my good girl’ he praises quietly before gathering saliva into his mouth and spitting a thick jewel of it all over your core. It drips right down your throbbing heat, and Chris licks his lips whilst observing his work, before dropping his nose right onto your clit.

You hiss in pleasure at the sensitivity when he slides his face down your slit, his mouth kissing your centre hungrily as he grabs onto the tops of your thighs to squeeze them feverishly and keep you close to him.

‘We look so fucking pretty together with my face between your legs don’t you think?’

You whimper instantly, squeezing your eyes shut and arching you back at the slick consistency. Your hips buck, and you grind yourself down onto Chris’ face. He inhales with a dreamy smile on his lips before you look your head back down to him, yourself still propped up on your now shaking elbows. Chris’ dilated eyes flick up to connect with yours, and just as he does this, his tongue purposefully darts out so that he can lick a bold strip right up the centre of your clit.

Your chest rises and falls, and you mewl at the sensation of his tongue working along the spongy nerve. His eyes drop for a second, to close and simply enjoy himself as he licks away your sweetened juices, his nose constantly bumping and pushing against your tender clit because of how deeply he forces himself. However, now that the initial shock of Chris wanting to eat you out has worn off, you begin to feel your normal sexual tendencies seeping through your mind once again.

With that being said, as Chris sprawls out below you, licking into your heat and gripping onto your supple flesh, one of your thighs twitch, and somehow, you can’t seem to just let him try and get you off without adjusting the position to suit yourself.

Your thigh flexes and knocks into the side of Chris’ head, which catches him off guard. This then allows you to gravitate your hips to the side, causing a chain reaction within Chris’ body. He tips, then falls onto his back with a ‘humph’ before you are able to effortlessly gravitate your body up on top of his so that now, you are sitting on his face with each side of your thighs trapping his head onto the bottom of the mattress.

You smirk and grind down onto his nose evilly, but Chris only allows you to have this freedom of power for about 10 seconds. He continues to suck and kiss against you, but his toleration is not great, and you peek down to see that he is glaring up at you.

Soon, his hands slither their way up to your hips, and he roughly wrestles you off of his face. Rather violently, he throws you back down into your original position and you squeak in shock when he rolls back into his cozy spot in between your legs.

And so the fight for dominance begins. You fucking knew this would happen, it’s a spoken truth that both Chris and you are tops, so it was just a matter of time before something like this occurred.

Instead of putting his face back down there however, he leers up to you, his torso slithering like a snake’s as he arches his back and towers his crawling body over yours threateningly.

He looks bigger, more muscular this way. But it only makes you wetter in attraction.

Bringing up his right hand to his face, he lollipops his pointer and middle finger into his mouth, reaching them all the way down his throat so that he can wetly coat them with spit before taking them out and guiding them towards your lower half.

‘I’ve been waiting to do this for fuck knows how long…’ he begins in a chastising manner, now his long fingers finding your throbbing clit and stroking it slowly. ‘So I want to be able to watch your face when I eat you out’.

You have to quickly bite on your lip and feather your eyes closed when those two fingers slip inside of you, his thumb quickly manoeuvring to take over with rubbing your clit so both things are being done simultaneously.

‘And I can’t fucking do that if you’re sitting on my face like that can I?’ He begins to growl, reprimanding you as his fingers go at an agonisingly slow pace to teach you a lesson. Suddenly his left hand quickly comes to give the side of your thigh a harsh but playful slap. ‘So, be my good girl and stay fucking still for me whilst I have my treat yeah?’

‘And what if I don’t do as I’m told?’ You smirk and challenge him back, knowing all too well how this game goes, you’ve played it plenty of times before - Chris is just a little bit better at it than most people.

But he still has you dripping the same, even only as friends.

Something changes within Chris’ eyes in that moment. The softness of them hardens, and this little ordeal no longer feels like a kind and friendly favour.

You have a feeling he’s going to get rough with you in a minute…

Now the gaze he portrays is more ravenous, it morphs right before your very eyes and he looks as though he’s about to make a meal out of your body.

The hand wetly slipping in and out of you abruptly stops, and instead exits your hole, only to gravitate back up to your collarbones. Chris’ jaw clenches and his nostrils flare slightly at your defiance.

It’s as if he forgets that you’re just as dominant as him within the sheets, because he seems to want all of the control to himself… typical top behaviour. And it’s only a matter of time before you realise that the hand moving up to your collarbones is actually making its way up to your exposed neck instead.

Cupping your throat, his veined and sticky hand presses down onto it and slowly begins to put pressure on your wind pipe, choking you from breath.

‘I don’t think you have much of a choice baby… because I’ll make you’ he smirks, speaking to you and leaning his head down until his nose touches the tip of yours.

‘I don’t like it when you’re on top, so I guess I’ll just have to fuck you into a whiny little bottom for me, won’t I?’ He chastises you in a babied voice, as if he is talking to a small animal, which contrasts to his clamped hand that is now making you feel slightly dizzy with light-headedness.

You swallow, your heat gushing at the bruise-inflicting grip his fingertips have against your throat, and you think Chris knows that you are enjoying it just as much as he is.

‘Pretty little necklace for a pretty little neck…’ he mumbles, leaning his head down slightly further, just enough so that his lips can feather against yours. ‘I wanna find out how much I can make this pretty little neck scream’ he cheekily muses against your lips, before releasing his pressured grip slightly.

This allows you time to take in a huge, stuttering breath as you look up at Chris with glassy eyes.

The clang of a heavy belt undoing rings within your ears, the leather flapping against itself when Chris manages to slip it off with only one hand. You’re impressed. But there are only so many things that you can focus on at once, and currently you are still hyper fixated on the way his hand expertly chokes you from air.

‘Ahh fuck, I’m so hard for you princess’ He meekly whimpers onto your mouth after loosening the button and zipper to his jeans, only now just realising how furiously hard his cock is after slipping his hand down his pants and cupping it.

It throbs and leaks within his boxers whilst his hand grips against it to start jerking it. He feels so sexually pent up after discussing sex with you almost all day, not getting any of it himself until now. With that, and the added experience of licking you clean, Chris feels as though he could explode at any moment. But he’s too good at this for his own good, and can hold on for a while, he’s experienced at edging and has done it all before.

You whine rather loudly up onto Chris’ lips at the nickname, squeezing your thighs against his body once again.

This has him retracting his head up so that he can fully take in your face as he smirks once again, the devil dancing along his mouth and his eyebrows furrowing in confused pleasure.

‘Yeah? You like that? Has my pretty little girl got a princess kink?’

He raises his eyebrows at an antagonising rate, clearly getting off on teasing you as he works himself with his own hand back down near your hole.

You whine again.

‘Chris!’.

Shouting at him in embarrassment, you cover both of your blushing cherry cheeks with your hands, not wanting to admit to your friend that the notion of him calling you a princess makes your heart beat down at your clit.

‘I think she doesssss’ he drawls out within a singsong, poking you playfully with the hand that was resting against your throat. You squirm, before gritting your teeth. But then his energy changes.

‘Fuck, I actually think that’s really hot’ he groans into your ear gutturally, after rubbing against his own tip, now practically pressing his whole entire body weight down on top of yours and trapping you underneath him. But, you are not going to be fucking humiliated and degraded by Chris, no matter how attractive his dominating sex appeal may be.

So you push against his shoulders roughly, and once again it sends him flying to the side. He whimpers in surprise but you are already turning so that you can yank his hand up from out of his boxers. He moans aggressively at the lose of contact before he is widening his eyes and swallowing.

You then clamber on top of his lap, slapping one of your hands down onto his chest before he can push himself back up again. Chris looks at you with slightly erratic eyes, and you can tell that he really didn’t see that one coming. Good.

Slowly, you begin to swirl your hips, rolling them on his cock, which finally, gets him to falter. He weakens within your hold, his eyelashes feathering and his mouth opening slightly to let out another high-pitched moan. His back arches delightfully, and you glow in your newfound power, adoring looking down at a defenceless Chris who white knuckles the bed sheets and squirms around like a little boy.

‘Jesus- just like that princess’ he mumbles vaguely, panting, now also with two flushed red cheeks that acquire perspiration with every grind of your fluid hips.

Thinking that you’re not quite teasing him enough to match the kind of embarrassment that he just put you through, you shift your naked lower half down slightly so that you can sit on his thighs, clad within red Calvin Kleins.

Reaching your fingers into the waistband on either sides of his hips, you smile innocently before pulling down the stretchy fabric, allowing his reddened cock to spring free.

Chris takes in a shaky, heaving inhale, his head tilted back as he focuses on his breathing with his eyelashes feathering and his chest laboured. You take him suddenly and Chris rips a gasp from his chest whilst you feel around to get a perfect grip on him. It doesn’t take long however, because his prick is already perfect.

‘Jesus Chris, you never told me how big you were’ you mumble in admiration, having no shame in fixing your stare right onto his cock, your mouth practically watering at the angry vein lacing its way to his tip, his girth thick and lengthy. Chris finds it in himself to recover and smirk cockily at the compliment, already knowing how big he is.

‘Yeah? Think you can take me princess? Am I too big for you?’

His hands slide their way behind his head, giving it something to suavely lean on as his smug eyes glance down at the way you watch his prick. Gritting your teeth in annoyance at his clear show of dominance still, you grip it tightly before lunging your lower half forward to sit back down, this time so that his cock brushes heavily against your clit.

Chris squeezes his eyes tightly shut once again, knocking his sharpened jaw back as he curses up into the air and whines.

‘Think your cock can handle me?’ You bite back, flipping the question on its side as you slowly grind backwards and forwards over Chris’ sensitivity, his back now arched fully and his hands out to his sides once again so that he can grip onto his bedsheets.

He looks as though he’s about to lose consciousness, so your hand shoots forward and roughly grips his chin, forcing his head to glance upwards in a dizzied spell of pleasure.

‘Look at me pretty boy…’ you whisper, sliding your other hand that was once at his chest, down your thigh to squeeze it for Chris’ benefit. You know how much he loves thighs; due to previous conversations you have had in the past about them. His eyes are hooded and his mouth is open whilst he takes panting breaths.

‘I want you to watch me play with you’

His dilated eyes flit to the erotic sight of his cock disappearing in between your folds slickly after ever grind, the pleasure he feels from just watching blowing through the roof at the sensual exhibition of wet sex. His lips are moist, due to his tongue passing over them every couple of seconds.

‘Pretty cock for a pretty boy yeah?’ you pout playfully and shrug, which gets Chris nodding and babbling a distracted ‘Uhuh’, almost as if he is in a drunken stupor. But you enjoy it, nonetheless.

And it goes on like this for a while, before you stop and lift yourself from him, deciding that you have teased him enough. Grabbing his throbbing cock back within you hand, you squeeze him and angle him upwards with the intention of fully sinking down onto him this time, finally feeling the ache to ride him.

But, within your loss of concentration on his face and the vulnerability that comes with gravitating up onto your knees above him, Chris sees a point of instability. Looking at your wobbling legs, he realises that he can knock you off balance easily, and so grins devilishly, his mouth practically dripping with drool at the thought that spins within his head of a sexual fantasy he’s always wanted to recreate with you.

Quickly flexing his stomach, he crunches upwards to a sitting position, wasting no time in shooting out his hands and swallowing your hip bones within their expanse.

It all happens so fast.

But you squeak as you are caught off guard.

Chris quickly and effortlessly lifts you away from him, his biceps greedily flexing and giving you an eyeful before you are spun around fully and tossed onto your hands and knees. You hardly have any time to recover before you are choking out a moan because of the way Chris crawls up right behind you, also on his hands and knees.

Now, one thing about Chris’ room layout, is that at the foot of his bed, he has a walk in closet, and the doors to said closet are mirrored, meaning that currently you are staring at a reflection of yourself, with a ravenous Chris leaning over you.

You wheeze as he pounces forward, throwing his back over yours and using his left knee to kick one of your thighs apart so that your legs can spread to make room for him. You feel your stomach churn at the notion of watching Chris fuck you, your eyes fixating upon your animalistic reflections. He too looks at you both in the mirror, smirking at you in victory through the fogged glass, knowing that there is absolutely no way you’re going to be able to even the odds again in such a submissive position.

You choke, still not yet accustomed to how he had switched the power dynamic so quickly between the two of you, before he’s gripping himself and slipping right into your dripping hole.

You whine, your elbows buckling to the mattress at the stretched burn, which sends your front barelling to the duvet, sticking you ass further up into the air and pushing Chris ever deeper. Chris grunts, his stomach heaving as it rises and falls against your tailbone. His breath is hot on your neck as he admires the way he looks pushing his cock into you.

‘Good girl.’

He gutturally whispers into you ear knowing that you’re watching him speak this from through the mirror. His praise is slightly condescending, with a teasing twinge to it and you know that it’s because he’s bragging about getting the better of you.

You knew he was going to put up a fight for it, you just didn’t realise how rough he’d get.

‘Don’t you look like such a pretty angel on your hands and knees for me?’ He hums fondly, now leering forward on your back even further so that he can whisper directly into your ear, his eyes still absolutely fixated upon the mirror.

‘You’re practically begging for me to take you from behind’ he scoffs before simply sitting inside of you, refusing to move until you acknowledge him and admit to him that he’s right.

‘I’m not moving until you beg for it…’ he sticks up his nose, leaning on one of his hands whilst the other one slithers up your sweater that had drooped open with gravity to squeeze onto one of your braless tits and rub his thumb over your nipple. You roll your eyes, your cheeks flushed and sweating before you snort it defiance.

Chris soon looses his patience and removes his hand from its stimulating grip on your tit, only to bring it back out and hardly swat it against the side of your thigh.

‘Say it’

He bellows through gritted teeth, his hand softly soothing the now reddened hand print plastered over your thigh by rubbing over the stinging skin.

You grit your own teeth, hissing slightly in pain but still keeping your mouth shut. Chris delivers another slap, this time nearer to your ass and hurting a lot harder. Tears form within your eyes but you still throb the same, adoring how the waves of pain feel as they warmly spread through your gut and melt into pleasure instead.

You do want to desperately get off though, and so you swallow down your pride, being humiliated as a top once again today by breaking your stare from the mirror and twisting your head behind you so that you could look a lustful Chris in the eyes.

‘Please! I want your cock, please give it to me pretty boy… please’.

Chris seems satisfied enough with this answer, because he smirks, before reaching his hand underneath your chest and slithering it right up to your neck so that he can twist your head back around to face the mirror yet again.

‘There’s my pretty girl…’

His choking grip stays near your jaw as he forces you to watch the way he slowly begins to stroke in and out of you.

‘I jerk off thinking about you a lot y’know, imagining us doing something just like this, sometimes replaying it on the wall, on the floor… in the shower’.

As Chris reels off each of these different scenarios, you can’t help but picture each of them in your head as well, your eyes rolling into the backs of your sockets whilst you bite your lip and suppress a whine at the feeling of his tip reaching a sensitive spot within you.

He doesn’t stop there with his verbal onslaught however, for he keeps going, nearly moaning into your ear whilst mumbling ‘you always make me so horny when you come over princess.’

Which in part, you know is truthful, you just didn’t quite grasp how horny it really made him.

Sure you two talk about sex a lot, since it is primarily what adolescent minds are fixated upon these days- however you were not aware that it had gotten to the extent where Chris could no longer control his hormones anymore.

You know he’s good at suppressing these feelings, he did it too much to not be an expert at it by now, but you guess he just couldn’t help himself this time when the opportunity to give you a good dicking arose.

And fuck was he good at giving it.

‘From now on… if you need help with getting off, you come to me’ He possessively announces into the air as his motions start to make the bed rattle up against the thin back wall.

The bedroom window to his apartment is cracked wide open, which means anyone passing underfoot nosy enough to stop and listen in would no doubt hear your filthy moans as you fucked. Which you suppose isn’t really a bad thing in your minds, as it is yet again something that you openly discussed about in the past, coming to the unanimous decision that it both turned you on even more.

‘I don’t think-’ you try to speak but are abruptly cut off by a yelp of pain when he delivers another brutal slap to the skin of your thigh. It irritates you slightly, because you know exactly what he’s playing at.

‘The only word you should be fucking speaking is my name, over and over again princess, so I don’t wanna hear anything else out of that filthy little mouth of yours unless it’s to do with how good I fuck you’

This is humiliating and degrading as a top, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment, the blood rushing to them as his cock thickly stretches you out and you have to take stuttering inhales to catch your breath.

Your blood boils and you go to shout back at him, but then you stop when something within your stomach flips, and the tickling pleasure intensifies, cooking and rolling within your gut. You have to press your face into his mattress to moan when an orgasm tugs at your mind.

You try to hide your face there so Chris can’t hear how noisy you’re being to protect your dignity as a top, but that doesn’t work, because Chris gets a surge of power that fuels his god complex every time he looks down at the submissive nature he had managed to force you into.

The hand cupping around your neck slides into the back of your hair and grips it roughly. A dull ache melts across the roots of it as he yanks your face back up again to watch the mirror. ‘Don’t you fucking dare’ he spits into your ear harshly. ‘When I said I wanted to hear you scream I fucking meant it… I want everyone outside to know how good I fuck my girl’.

He chastises you from through the mirror, his blue eyes glinting and oozing with masculine dominance whilst he admires the way your shoulders heave and you whimper into the air uncontrollably because of his doing.

‘Chris…’ you pant, not being able to help it anymore because you need to come, your body sweating and burning up as your eyes feather closed. Chris smirks, knowing that you would never willingly do as you were told like a submissive unless you absolutely had to, meaning that he had just done his job at getting you off.

‘Does my princess need to come?’ He teases into your ear, before letting go of your hair and reaching his hand underneath your body. He trails it down your stomach so that he can play with your clit, which only makes your stimulation even worse.

‘Chris please-‘ you whine, but you physically cannot get anymore words out because your brain is too concerned with chasing your high as your thighs begin to weaken and wobble within their stance. ‘Do you think you deserve to come?’ He questions, again teasing you with malicious intent as his thrusts suddenly slow, his pointer finger now circulating your clit at a lazy pace. This gets your high to diminish, which irritates you.

He is not fucking getting away with edging you, even if it means you need to beg for him.

So, as much as you hate it, you whine into the air, now grinding your hips backwards so that you can meet his forward strokes, which gets him to hiss unexpectedly and smirk from behind you.

‘Yes- yes I- please Chris please- I’ll be your good girl… I’ll- I’ll come to you when I need to fuck someone, I promise… just please- I wanna come… please…’

You cannot believe you are grovelling at his feet like this, you sound pathetic, but to be fair to him, it is worth it, because god can Chris fuck… you’re not too mad about him offering his cock to you whenever you need it either, even though that entails the idea of friends with benefits… and everyone knows that those kind of favours usually end in disaster.

But the favour is just too good of an offer to pass up.

Satisfied with your begging, Chris smirks once again, weighting his back down heavily and getting into a good position before he muses a quick ‘there’s my good girl’. He speeds his pace yet again, and the faster he goes the more your orgasm threatens to snap like a thread.

And it doesn’t take long, before you burst and give a final whine into the air, throwing your head back so that it hits his muscled shoulder whilst the heat of your orgasm melts down your thighs and spreads across your chest. Chris rides you through it, still stroking but this time thickly and slowly as your cum drips down his cock. Finally, after your orgasm is over, he kisses your temple and mumbles into your ear ‘such a good girl for me’ before caressing you and pulling out.

This makes you wince quietly, as his hands now soften against your body and help you lie down, sprawled across his mattress. As you come down from your high, Chris’ sweating body presence slowly slips away, and you hear the duvet covers crinkle beneath his knees as he stretches the expanse of his body over to his nightstand.

Hearing the wooden drawer scrape open within your ears and his hand rustling around the compartment you listen while you pant, trying to calm your sodden core and slow your heart rate down.

Closing your eyes, you breathe with exhaustion.

But you open them again when Chris comes back behind you, your head, that is resting on his mattress turned to look at the way one of his hands lean on the bed covers right in front of your eyes with his knuckles.

Then, metal and the flap of leather is heard within the ear on the other side of your head, your vision probably purposefully obscured from seeing the object by Chris himself.

Why did he have his belt with him?

Until you realise that when you feel leather sliding under your chin… it isn’t Chris’ belt.

His breathing is thick and his presence overwhelming as the smell of sex permeates the air. His hand that was resting right by your face then reaches forward so that he can grab the item and stop you from moving away from it.

You are now trapped from both sides.

‘Chris! What the fuck!?’ You question angrily before a deep and condescending chuckle is heard from behind you as Chris yanks your neck up by the leather and you feel the metal clip catch to fasten the collar tightly onto your skin.

He’s using his favourite collar… on you.

‘What? You didn’t think you’d get away with me not using this did you? It’s my favourite toy…’

You sit up with a mortified look on your face, gazing into the mirror at the simple black neck accessory. Chris smirks from behind you, admiring the collar and throbbing at the perfect fit it possesses over you neck. Leering forward, he uses his fingers to twist your jaw so that he can softly kiss against your lips.

It takes you by surprise, but you brush over the fact that you have a sadists’ collar on your neck in favour of hesitantly kissing Chris back. Each of you get lost within the twists of your tongues and the breaths you take, trying to coat as much of your scents onto each other as possible.

He moans into your mouth, grabbing at your face aggressively before one of his hands slides down so that he can play with the collar, tugging on the leather to pull you closer to him. To say he gets carried away is an understatement, because he sits back on his haunches as he grasps your thighs so that he can pull you into his lap.

Still kissing you, he mumbles into your lips ‘can my brave girl manage another orgasm?’

You falter, your lips stopping as you open your eyes to look down at him, not quite sure because of how sensitive you are, however… the tables turn after he adds some sweetness to the offer.

Kissing and grazing his teeth against your bottom lip he drawls a tempting ‘I want you to sit on my cock, so bad’. Something you weren’t quite expecting from someone like Chris, who is very obviously a control freak and rarely lets girls top. You suppose he makes a special exception for you though, because you can tell he wants to show off and exceed the expectation of not only giving you one, but giving you two orgasms back to back.

So you swallow, before nodding your head and letting Chris scoop his hands underneath your armpits so that he can lift you up above his reddened cock.

You screw up your face and whimper a little when he helps you onto him. Chris hisses and mewls quietly into your neck, trying not to let on to the fact that he had been sorely hard for a while with no stimulation after slipping out of you. Your walls ripple and sting slightly with sensitivity but you hold your wheezes down by focussing in on the way Chris willingly lets you sit on top of him without putting up a fight this time.

His hands rest on the curves of your hips, squeezing them and breathing raggedly as you start to grind. He bites his bottom lip and looks up at you with glassy, dilated eyes that gleam with arousal.

‘Shit, you’re taking me so well baby… want me to help?’

You nod your head distractedly, just grateful that he isn’t prepared to let your tired limbs do it all yourself. Your first orgasm has tired them and your clit is still aching, but as soon as he starts hoisting your hips upwards then smoothing them back downwards leisurely, you have time to catch your breath.

Your stomach clenches once again, your body exhausted but your mentality thirsting for another orgasm, which you’re sure Chris will have no problem giving you. This time however, it proves to be a lot more challenging to build you back up again, so Chris has to work twice as hard to please you.

The barrier between pleasure and pressure takes a while to break as Chris pants into the air, resting his forehead on your shoulder because of how good your walls feel squeezing around him. The cum from your first orgasm also makes it extra easier and even more erotic as he slides inside and out wetly, only making it twice as painstaking for him to hold on and not cum all over you himself. His narcissism simply doesn’t let his bodily needs win, because he cannot go back on his own promise of giving you a second orgasm and he would never let himself live it down if he did. He’s good at what he does, and he’s not going to sacrifice his pride simply because it’s you and he can barely control himself around your body normally.

‘You look so pretty when you come… I wanna see that face again’

Chris coos up to you, which makes you squeeze your eyes shut and look towards your bottom halves so that you don’t have to face his piercing eyes. Chris voices this as absentminded dirty talk, but of course there is also the secret notion of you returning more than once to get what you want from him hidden within the statement, hopeful and pining for your sex just as much as you pine for his.

‘Chris it’s a little sore still’ you whine to him, complaining at the pace he is going at, Chris only hushes you like you are a small child, before lunging upwards so that he can have your lips on his once again.

He decides he likes kissing you… a lot.

‘I know you can handle it’ he simply mumbles back, his fingertips digging into the fleshy part of your ass so that he can squeeze the skin in his hands and speed up your grinds. ‘Just gotta build you back up again’ he speaks once again, referring to working away your body’s sensitivity and turning it into a high once more after you start to get pleasure out of the strokes instead of pain.

So you two go on like this, into a period where you fall into silence, the only noises being your raggedy breathes, the gentle squeak of the wooden bed and the backs of your thighs gently hitting against the tops of his. You look into each other’s gleaming eyes, your noses almost touching and your hearts racing. your fingers thread into the back roots of his darkened brunette hair, the long silky strands running through your fingertips easily and making you smile at their softness

But after a while, you suddenly get restless, and your clit no longer begs for mercy, instead it melts into a hungrier sensation, and you feel as though Chris has successfully just gotten you out of the overstimulated slump of your first orgasm, readying you for your second.

‘Chris I- I think’ you stutter and swallow, suddenly grabbing onto his shoulders and squeezing them as your eyes widen in realisation. Chris raises his eyebrows cockily, because he knows what’s going to happen so, he lurches forward with you in his arms and your back lands onto his mattress once again.

Your head cushions between his two fluffed pillows and he takes up most of your personal space, right in between your thighs so that this time he can take over the thrusting. ‘Yeah? Is my baby needing to come again?’ He questions in a sultry manner, your thighs squeezing his hips in desire at how annoyingly confident and smirky he is.

‘Shut up Chris’ you say back with a blush decorating your cheeks, not helping the way you ache for him as his cock fills you up completely. After hearing this, Chris frowns, pulling out of you and then grabbing you so that he can effortlessly flip you around.

You yelp again with your stomach on the mattress and your face buried into the pillows, in so much pain because of the absence of his cock, which is intensified by the aggressive slap he gives the back of your left thigh.

‘Don’t be so ungrateful princess…’ he chastises you harshly whilst soothing his hand over your skin before spreading you out and entering you once again, which gets you to halt your whines and choke out whimpers instead.

Your toes curl as Chris darts out his tongue to lick a bold stripe right up your spine before beginning to kiss the back of your neck.

You hum an apology into the mattress, but only after Chris tugs on the collar with a ‘listen if you’re gonna give me attitude then maybe I shouldn’t be so nice… next time I might force you to give me head instead of giving you an orgasm if you’re not fucking careful sweetheart… how does that sound hm?’

Fumbling around, your shaking hands finally manage to steady themselves by gripping onto his duvet and white knuckling it.

Again, Chris tries to think about what kind of other things he can say to get you off quicker, because he too, is feeling like he needs to come pretty soon… and it has absolutely destroyed him to hang on for this long.

Wracking his brain as he thrusts, he then ponders the idea of trying something new, something that he has never done before but is willing to wager with you, because he’s not going to lie, the notion makes him harder than he’s ever willing to admit. He decides that it’s worth the try… not fearing at all about the reaction, since you’re the least judgemental person he knows.

‘If we weren’t best friends, I’d fuck a baby into you right now’ he rasps into your ear from behind you.

His front weighs heavily on top of your back as his left hand tangles within the strands of your hair, yanking it and pushing your face into the pillow to muffle your whines.

‘Squeezing me so nice and tight ma’.

But the comment only makes your back arch further into the mattress, your hands clawing and wringing against the duvet cover.

Chris smirks, before he thinks to milk it even further, considering the fact that it is working almost too well, even for him. Along with this… he is also not wearing a condom, knowing that his pull out game is strong. However, it only makes it feel all the more real to both of you.

‘My baby would look so pretty with your eyes….’ he adds on, slipping the top of your ear into his mouth so that he can tug on it.

His hips move at a gorgeous pace, ramming you into the bed whilst his other hand grips the headboard that bangs against the wall rhythmically.

‘I want to give you one so bad… you take me so fucking good princess… you’d be such a good mommy for me’

At this rate he’s going to get bruises all over his knuckles, but he really just doesn’t give a fuck. His main concern is getting you off for the second time this evening - this time with the added addition of his collar, straight after he finished you off the first time.

Your stomach flips in pleasure, especially after he whines ‘fuck… I never wanna wear a condom with you ever… you feel too fucking good wrapped around me like this…’

A pure animalistic kind of hold takes over your body within that moment, and you have to screw your neck into a turn to get it from out of the muffle of the pillows so that he can hear you clearly as you sputter ‘come inside me then- I’m, I’m on the pill’.

You know saying this will drive Chris insane, so you don’t hesitate. You feel as though there is a primal need within you to have his cum dripping out your hole, to make it clear as to who you belong to within that moment. Chris’ mouth falls open as he groans once again when he begins to pick up the pace at this lecherous comment, knowing that he is on the brink of coming. This sends him over the end.

As he rams into you, you feel him burst as he whimpers, letting all of his cum drip out uncontrollably from his tip as it mixes with the rememants of your second orgasm, each of your bodily fluids leaking and mixing with each other’s.

Taking deep stuttering breaths after his high, Chris practically collapses on top of you, both of your shoulders heaving as you suddenly collectively laugh in disbelief.

‘Shit...’ he mumbles into your hair, albeit a little starstruck at his impulsive decision to cum inside of you. You return with an equally as stunned ‘wow… um…’, before you both burst out giggling once again at what had just happened, each of you still hyper aware of his cock inside of you.

‘You wanna go pee?’ He affectionately muses, back to his friendly tone that you know so well, yet still very much naked in his lower half section. You chuckle, grateful that he cares about looking out for you with aftercare, yet also shrugging and snuggling down into the pillow lazily before you close your eyes.

‘Yeah… in a minute… can we just lie here for a bit though?’ You question sleepily, absolutely bone-tired from how hard Chris had railed you into his bed, to which he quips a quick ‘sure’ and plonks his head down onto your shoulder blades.

His heavy weight on top of your back feels oddly comforting, in a twisted, friendly way.

Finally, to end your little adventurous escapade, Chris reaches up his hands to take off the collar from your neck, making your heart squeeze a little as he mumbles ‘that was honestly some of the best sex I’ve ever had, thank you bro’ whilst pulling out the leather sex toy from underneath you.

You snort, and smile, knowing that what lies ahead of your changed relationship will simply be a lot more repeats of what happened tonight…

Author’s notes p.2: you’d think I’m writing whole ass books from how fucking long these things are, jesus… but anyways, the collar kink was an adventurous gamble and I’m not sure how I feel about it. However, The Weekend’s song Best Friends for sure inspired this piece of writing, plus I just love a old good friends w/ benefits Chris imagine, so I hope u liked my interpretation of it <33

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[oscalesoffeeling]

where is my hubbin????

[alexiapp]

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭,𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲, 𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You take Alexia to be your plus one to a after party after your show and she gets really possessive and 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 a little blurb for you guys

(𝐛𝐭𝐰 i’ll take any request of Alexia and other players)

Alexia thought you were the most beautiful woman in her eyes. She was drawn to you in many ways.

Everything you do makes her attracted to you more and more.

Alexia was 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 possessive over you, she was aware people found you attractive, you were a model for God’s sake, she was aware you were hot.You made her soft, something she hates to admit, but one of the hundred things she loved about you.

You were an eye sore, you were sexy, “smoking” some men would say. Epically since you were a model a lot of people looked up to you for fashion and looks and though she hates you admit for your body also.

Sometimes, she hates how much attention you get, unwanted and wanted.

So you being at this party in a revealing two piece made her skeptical.

You were having a blast, meeting friends talking, it was always fun to hang out with others, one of your love languages quality time.

You were interrupted with your conversation when you felt a tap on your back. You turned around being met with a Middle age man.

“Hey” the man in front of you said. “Hey?” you said almost like a question, “do you i know you ?” you followed after with a confused look on your face.

“You’re really beautiful” the man said moving closer making you take 2 steps back in discomfort.

Garlic hitting your nose, insinuating to you that he was drunk, 𝐞𝐰.

Your face construed in disgust. Not knowing Alexia already had her eyes on you from afar, a stoic look screwed on her face.

Who does this guy think he is? she thought.

You looked around wondering where he came from “thanks.” keeping it short and blunt trying to hint to him that you didn’t enjoy his presence.

“Want to leave this place with me?” he said with a menacing grin on his face.

You were now disgusted and uncomfortable.

“No thank you i already have someone i’m going home to” giving him a half smile, ready to walk away you felt a tight grip on your wrist.

“hey, i’m talking to you” The random man said with a not so pleasing look on his face.

You were shocked, and it wasn’t just you who felt the same way.

Alexia was fuming, she quickly got up walking with long strides.

“Hey babe” The blonde said coming towards you pulling you into a heated kiss, pulling away biting your lip, wrapping her arms around your shoulders, a non pleasing looking on her face when she makes contact with the man in front of her.

“Can i help you?” She then said to the man in front of you two.

In this moment Alexia looked the scariest, she looked angry and intimidating.

“nothing, whatever forget i said anything” he said mumbling under his breath walking away.

You let out a deep breath out you didn’t know you were holding in.

You looked up in Alexia she looked pissed.

“What the fuck was is his problem” She said with venom in her voice, “The way i saw him looking at you, i should punch him”.

You patted her shoulder and guided her to you guys table to gather your stuff and head home. “Let’s just go home baby” You said trying to clear the air throwing the suggestion out.

“I should go confront him” She said almost walking towards where the weird man disappeared to, you tugged on blazer jacket a little, preventing something Alexia may regret, since the two of you were in a tipsy daze .

“Please Alexia i just want to go home” You said with desperation in your voice.

Alexia huffing and rubbing her hands over her face in frustration nodding her head in agreement.

Alexia pulling the Brit to there shared car out side hopping in and a lamming the door.

Alexia taking a moment to steady her breathing from how angry she is.

“Alexia, baby calm down it’s going to be okay…” you said rubbing her arm.

“You don’t understand, i don’t like people touching what’s 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞“ she said with an aggressive tone. “Alexia baby you know i’m only your’s”

You let out a sigh, you knew just a way to calm Alexia down and prove to her that you were 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬.

“How about you show me how bad i’m yours” You said in a seductive voice, rubbing her arm up and down again.

Immediately Alexia said “Put your seatbelt on let’s go” she husked out clearing her voice after and starting the car.

The way she said it turned you on making you squirm in your seat.

Alexia spending down the road driving like a mad man.

You were pulled into an abandoned parking lot.

“Get in the back seat for me and take everything off” the blonde woman said firmly. You quickly climbing to the back slowly taking everything off, knowing alexia was watching from the rear-view mirror of her cupra.

Once you finished stripping alexia quickly got out slamming her car door and opening the back seat.

The cold air hitting your body making your nipples harden, make everything even more pleasing.

You bit your lip watching Alexia come in slowly.

You helped her take off her blazer jacket and trying to unbutton her button down until she stopped you.

“Hands off cariño, remember i’m proving to you that you’re mine” She said with a sinister grin.

The hazel eyed woman coming to pull you into a heated messy teeth clashing kiss, you moaning and gasping making her slip her tongue in.

Her pulling back harshly biting your bottom lip almost making it bleed.

driving you crazy, alexia moving down to kiss your neck finding the right spot making your body arch.

Alexia placing multiple kisses, moving down to your hard nipples sucking hard.

The car being filled with your loud moans, your eyes rolling behind your head.

Alexia leaving open kisses on your torso leaving occasionally love bites.

She sat up satisfied with the work she’s done so far, marking you.

She moved down, her breath fanning your cunt.

“Alexia don’t tease” you said in a begging tone

“Easy, Easy bebe i’ll take care of you” you nodding your head in a daze of pleasure.

The hazel eyed woman biting inside your thigh teasing further, then suddenly

Alexia suddenly sticking her mouth to your cunt giving slight kitten licks.

Making you let out a loud moan. It quickly moved to Alexia harshly licking devouring you, her adding a finger licking your clit.

You move your hands into her hair leaving loud breathless moans your face screwing in pleasure “Alexia please i’m so close” As she continued to hit the right spot, the blonde groaning at making you vibrate a little making you gasp, She thought you looked the most beautiful all fucked out with pleasure. You sitting up moving her hair out her face looking down at her as she continues “Alexia please let me cum” tears now falling down your face in a euphoric daze.

“Cum bebita” she said into you, making you let out a loud moan falling back. Releasing

You breathing heavily trying to catch your breath.

“Oh my gosh that was amazing” you said breathlessly.

Alexia kissing up your body stoping at your neck and biting you and lifting up her head “That’s not even half of it amor” she said with a teasing smile, turning you on again.

𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬...

𝐏𝐭.𝟐??

[itsphoenix0724]

Can You Kill A God? (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: No one will ever forget why you are Death's queen ever again.

Based on another fic I wrote which you can read here

Warnings: Gore, blood, the reader is a little sinister but I love it, SMUT (unprotected sex, breeding kink?, oral: m and f receiving)

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I've been really missing Death!Az and Life!Reader recently. Also, I've had an obsession with Get In The Water from Epic the musical and this is what spawned. I did set in Ancient Greece so I did mention a Greek city. Happy New Year!!!

It started as a petty slight. Some stupid mortal king had said they feared Death more than War, so the god had raged a challenge. Your husband doesn’t normally involve himself in other matters, he had no need.

Eris was irrelevant to him.

Of all the other gods he is the only one who was inevitable, who would be permanent despite all odds. Azriel didn’t even feel the need to acknowledge the God of War, but he had started harming your creations, which was unacceptable in his eyes.

The souls had come into the underworld brutalized, they curled into your lap as you wiped their tears with the gossamer of your gown and told you that they had been sent as a message. You shed your own tears as you escorted them to eternal paradise and Death’s eyes went dark with promise as he cupped your jaw. 

Then he prepared for battle. 

You had to return to the overworld soon, the last phases of winter thawing into springtime greenery. He would sort this mess out before you leave his protection realm. Azriel gathered his allies and they outfitted themselves for combat. He took care to strap the armor to your chest, the gauntlets on your arms, and around your calves, kissing his devotion before securing every piece of metal. You did the same to him taking extra care to protect his heart.

The sight of you almost sent him to his knees.

There are still flowers wound through your hair, nightshade and belladonna make a deadly crown, and the golden glow that seems to permanently surround you bounces off the obsidian steel of your armor.

The battle had been bloody and long, it felt as if you’ve been here for days. Your dress was torn, the cloth shredded around your feet. Blood covered your entire front, caked and cracked into your skin. 

You cannot kill a god. 

But that doesn’t make the battle any less gruesome. 

Nothing would touch you thanks to Death looming over your shoulder. Every attack that may have hit you was deflected by your husband and vice-versa until the God of War catches onto this little tactic and baits Azriel by attacking you. Az had jumped in front of you, a wall of shadows blasting the God of War back a few feet at the risk of wounding him. 

But Death had fallen, red blood spilling sickly and sweet onto the fresh spring grass. It reminds you of a splitting pomegranate as the red seeps out and stains the dirt, every god in the field halts their battle and watches 

You fall to your knees in front of him, vines starting to curl around him as your magic begs to erupt from your chest to protect what’s yours. Eris gloats from his spot hovering in the air, laughing at Azriel struggling to breathe around the blood coming up his throat. The thorn vines wrap around Azriel to ward off any who might try to weaken him further as you rise to your feet. 

“Flower,” he wheezes around a cracked rattle in his throat, shaking his head and trying to sit up. You shush him gently pouring golden light into his chest that does nothing. You are not the Goddess of Healing, life will never stop death, so Az will have to heal on his own. War still mocks your shushing, your tears, calling your magic pathetic.

The earth beneath you starts to rumble. 

You are the Goddess of Life, the Goddess of the Earth, the World Shaker, and you will make every God here remember why you are Queen of the Underworld. 

Rising to your feet, the earth grumbles and shudders under the very force of your erratic heartbeat. War made a mistake waging this battle in Sparta, his arrogance will be his downfall. Your entire body shakes with rage as you stare at Eris from his spot in the air. 

“Get on the ground Eris.” Your voice rumbles in time with the splitting of the earth and War widens his eyes at the splintering ground. Yet, his overconfidence keeps him hovering out of your reach.

“Go home, Little Goddess” He drawls, “You’ve been beaten.” he spits at you with venom in his eyes—a dark, dark laugh bubbles out of your chest like molten lava. 

“If you don’t come down here I will collapse every wall in your city, and kill everyone in it.” You glare up at him, and he laughs shaking his head in disbelief. “Don’t believe me?” You quirk a brow and the rise around the city starts to shake. “Tell me God, what happens when every last worshiper of yours is dead?” His eyes widen in fear then. 

Because that is how you kill a god, you force them into the darkness of being forgotten until they waste away like little more than salt in water. 

Faster than a breath thorn-covered vines shoot from the earth and surround War kicking and screaming, golden light begins to glow brightly from your eyes as your fury hauls him to the ground.

 People seem to forget that Death is the calm acceptance of something coming to an end. Life joins this realm wailing its existence to the stars, Life can be a very violent thing.

You will break him beyond repair, you can’t hear the sounds of Eris choking on his blood, the only noise in your head is the dull thumping of a war drum. He fights back with as much power as he can muster, but you’re barely trembling with the effort it takes to hold him there. The sinister in your smile reflects in his shining, terrified eyes. 

How pretty would it be if lilies sprouted from his lungs? 

Someone may be calling your name but you can’t hear anything, the tunnel vision threatening to collapse you entirely. You might not be able to kill him like this but regrowing all of his organs certainly would take some time. Feeling the golden power writhe and wrap around his heart, begging you to let it off its leash and crush, but it’s then that you feel the cooling darkness wrap around your shoulders. Death sweeps his chill gaze over War after rising to his feet. You still hold the line firm, one arm shooting out to block Azriel from any further advancement. The light in your eyes still refuses to dim, but Az wraps a hand around your jaw delicately turning your face toward him. 

“You’ve made your point My Love,” the steady weight of his hand calms the rising heat in your blood. “It’s time to let him go.” Azriel didn’t particularly care if you ripped Eris apart and scattered him to the seas, but he knew the guilt would threaten to drag you into the abyss entirely. The light dims, and you drop your hand. Eris falls to the ground like a puppet dropped from strings, coughing blood like shiny red rubies onto the grass. You’re only looking at Az, the wash of reassurance running over your body as you finally process that he’s whole–that he’s standing. 

He’s alright. 

Death doesn’t deign to even look at War as shadows come around you like dark silk, and you’re back in his realm. He finally sags into your arms as he lets the facade drop, the real pain and exhaustion catching up to him. Az thinks you might call for a medic, but it feels like someone is holding his head underwater. The silk of the sheets feels distant against his skin as your hand strokes his face, and he finally lets his eyes slip closed. 

Azriel sleeps for four days. 

He wakes in your bedroom, your presence absent, but a pitcher of water remains on the bedside table. The armor he’d donned for battle had been stripped from him, replaced by a black chiton that fell loosely around his chest and hips. He chugs half the water in one go as his power reaches out frantically for you, his heart settles when he feels like your golden aura, and he rises to set off looking. 

He finds you beneath an ever-blooming willow tree in Asphodel fields, reading animatedly to a group of children, the golden reeds bellowing in the fresh spring air. They scatter as he leans against the trunk, giggling and laughing as they chase each other into the meadow. You’re overjoyed when you see your husband, throwing his arms around him and crashing his lips to yours. 

“Are you all right?” You mutter, gently pushing back the curtain of black hair that had fallen into his eyes. You’re so delicate with him, Azriel feels his heart skip two beats in his chest. 

“I’m content,” He hums lazily dropping his nose into your hairline, the lingering smell of lilies floods his senses and calms his nerves as it always does. He nudges his nose to your pulse point before biting gently at your fluttering heartbeat. 

“Azriel,” your voice reverberates into his chest, twinning heartbeats thudding together. “You’re still injured.” he continues his exploration of your neck, nipping his displeasure at your attempt to coddle him. Your body shudders as he finds a sensitive point, and you can feel his smug smile at your jugular. 

“Let me worship my Goddess in peace,” he rumbles relishing in the feel of your skin and the golden warmth of the fresh sun. He drops to his knees in the dirt, pressing devotion into the curve of your knee as your back thumps against the bark of the willow. He smirks as flowers bloom around you in time with your bashfulness, red poppies matching the pretty flush on your cheeks. 

“The souls,” You whip your head from side to side as he runs his hands along the sensitive skin of your thighs. He tilts his head in contemplation, hazel eyes reflecting the warmth like molten gold.

You feel his power ripple around you and a blanket of silence covers the area. Everything goes quiet, no birds chirping or animals running through the surrounding forest, even the rustling of the grass in the wind falls silent under his command. 

“No one will bother us now,” Azriel muses, continuing his travels, you squirm under his attention as he climbs higher and higher. 

“You’ve been asleep for four days,” You barely get the words out as he runs his thumb delicately over the apex of your thighs, enjoying the feel of you under his hands. “You should really eat something,” He growls his frustration as he bites a dark mark on the sensitive skin. 

“I’m trying too, if you would stop interrupting me.” His eyes turn almost black as he focuses his attention on your core again, brushing aside the scrap of silk covering you. Az lets out a guttural moan as your scent floods his senses.  He dives in then, feasting on you like he needs it more than air.

He’s wasted precious time with you since he’s been asleep, winter is caving to the sweet spring, but it seems the cold is listening to his prayers and holding on just a little longer. He licks straight to your center, tasting the honeyed sweetness as it floods his mouth. No matter how many centuries you spend together you are always still so responsive to him, you’re twitching and squirming against the tree just about to tumble over that edge when you yank his head away to pull him to his feet. His eyes are glazed over and your slick is dripping down his chin, you haul his mouth to yours tasting yourself on his tongue. All of a sudden his back is against the tree and you sink to your knees before him, tearing at the laces of his pants. 

It seems that you’ve missed him as well. 

You look up at him through batting lashes, and Azriel strokes his hand along your jaw in adoration. You take him in your mouth and Az feels like molten iron has been poured down his spine, white-hot pleasure blinding all of his senses. Death’s knees begin to buckle under Life’s ministrations, the smug look in her eyes adding to the crumbling of his resolve. He has always laid everything he is at your feet, intimacy is no different. You stroke the rest of won’t fit in your mouth in time with the bobbing of your head and he feels weightless. 

Your tongue strokes along a vein on the side of his cock and he explodes almost embarrassingly quickly. It appears that four days had taken more of a toll on him than anticipated. He scoops you into his arms and in a blink you’re in your bedroom. The absurdly large bed stretches across the expanse of the room, the open windows letting in the sun. Azriel tosses you on the cool silk sheets as he stalks on top of you. His lips collide with yours again as he slowly draws one hand up your thigh and draws your underwear down, throwing it somewhere behind him. He thrusts into you in one long motion, and the searing pleasure sends a rumble of power that shakes the very foundation of the palace. 

“Calm Flower,” he whispers as he hits the spot inside of you that threatens to launch you into oblivion. “You’ll bring the walls down around us.” You let out a laugh that bubbles into a moan as he continues his languid drive into you over and over. Eventually, Azriel starts to ram into you as his restraint falters like a splitting thread, toying his fingers over the apex of your thighs with musician’s grace as he bites at your neck. He flips you over at lightning speed, your ass in the air as he drives your further into the mattress, your moans muffling into the pillows as your try to keep up with the relentless tempo. You finally tip over the edge right before Az spills himself inside you, your combined release makes him let out a roar so loud the birds flee from their nests in the trees.

He watches himself spill out of you, thrusting it back inside with two of his fingers.

You whine in overstimulation as he crooks his fingers inside of you, he lets out an amused huff as he gently strokes your shaking thighs. Azriel waves a hand, and you hear the water in the bathtub start to run. You stroke a gentle path through his night-dark hair as he leans into your touch. 

Yes, spring may be coming soon. The time with your husband dwindles to sparse moments in a dying winter fire, but as Az scoops you into his arms to take you to the bath you enjoy every single moment you have left.

[celestialvoyeur]

💛💙SPIRK FIC REC - MY FAVOURITES💙💛

As a follow up to my recent post about how few fics make it to my favourites list, and how special they are to achieve that distinction, I decided to share my current list.

I’ve shared some of these individually in the past but here you’ll have them all together. 

If you've read any of these already then I'd love to hear your thoughts on whether you loved them as much as I did! 🥰

(NB: these are not listed in any order of preference. Mostly it’s the reverse order in which I read them)

Leave No Soul Behind by whochick Words: 258,951

AOS, AU Canon-Divergence. Spock, Kirk and the other valiant members of the Emergency Personnel Ambulance Service fight to save lives and turn the tide of the ongoing war against Nero and his fleet before it’s too late. Such a beautiful slow burn for Spock and Kirk.

Atlas by distractedKat Words: 135,529

AOS. Follow on from 2009, Kirk, Spock and the rest deal with the aftermath of Nero’s attack and rebuilding after the decimation of the ‘Fleet and Academy. An exciting tale with twists and turns involving black ops, bad-mirals, action, love and fierce loyalty.

The Lotus Eaters by aldora89 Words: 93,594

AOS. Stranded on a planet together, with multiple dangers and very little hope of rescue, Jim and Spock have no choice but to rely on each other to survive. Spectacular plot, amazing world building, fabulous original character and an epic slow burn Spirk love story!

With Your Feet on the Air and Your Head on the Ground by flippyspoon Words: 39,188 @flippyspoon

SNW. A phenomenal Spirk fic in which Kirk is stuck in Spock's mind while the crew work to find a way to retrieve his body. A wonderful getting to know you/falling for you hard tale. Wonderfully written and highly entertaining.

Evolution by Rhaegal (RhaegalKS) Words: 149,293

AOS. Covering the first year of their 5 year mission, this is totally flawless. The character voices are perfection, the prose spectacular. The whole thing plays like an AOS movie. It’s phenomenal.

Emotions by LadyRa Words: 35,569

TOS. Spock gets drugged on a shore leave and is overwhelmed with its effects. Kirk tries to pick up the pieces. A beautiful, and wonderfully grounded, story of realising how much they mean to each other.

And When the Bond Breaks by LadyRa Words: 24,631

TOS. Spock takes out a shuttle to investigate an anomaly and returns to an Enterprise that’s not his own. Time travel shenanigans with such emotional depth that it will traumatise you in the best way. Stunningly good!

All Our Tomorrows Come Today by flippyspoon Words: 18,156 @flippyspoon

SNW. A newly introduced Jim and Spock accidentally get a glimpse into the future and see what they’re going to be to each other (a.k.a. Spirk’s Greatest Hits). A stunningly told story about finding the great love of your life. 

I Won't Make That Mistake Again by Moreta1848 Words: 69,402 @jennelikejennay

SNW/TOS. An epic story detailing Spock and Kirk’s love throughout their lives, beginning from their meeting on Pike’s Enterprise (SNW) and continuing on to an eventual  Generations fix-it happy ending. Wonderful!

No Going Back, No Before by spirkme Words: 78,486 @spirkme915

SNW/TOS. Timeline shenanigans, spies, twists & turns, pining, angst, sacrifice and so so much love!

The 1,000 Hour Sleep by spqr Words: 27,227

SNW. Jim’s been infected with a pathogen that means he can’t sleep, but it he doesn’t he’ll die. Cue Spock and his Vulcan telepathy helping Jim to achieve the sleep he needs, while they get to know each other within their shared mindscapes. A sweet and exciting story about falling in love and overcoming your own inner demons.

First Best Destiny by Ophelia_j Words: 387,733

TOS/TNG. Such a very special fic. Epic in its scope, it covers the entire timeline of Spirk from their very first meeting through to a  clever and satisfying Generations fix-it ending. It provides extra scenes, additional dialogue and internal monologues to expand on existing canon in a really compelling and effective way. Truly this is my new TOS canon.

The Steadfastness of Stars by itsnatalie Words: 61,566

AOS. After Beyond, The crew investigate sudden climate change on a frozen planet and find more than they bargained for. The perfect mix of great plot, fun original characters, action, mystery, world building and deep deep love.

Let Forever Be by gunstreet Words: 43,446 @gunstreet

TOS. A really compelling character study of James T. Kirk. An excellent companion piece to City on the Edge of Forever. Exploring what Jim and Spock got up to, and all they had to overcome, while trying to find Bones and their way back home.

Time After Time by spaceisgay (ChancellorGriffin) Words: 138,921

SNW. Kirk spends a 6 month rotation on the Enterprise as part of his command training. OK, if there’s a favourite of my favourites then this may be it. It’s such a stunning version of their love story, with a beautifully constructed plot. It runs the emotional gamut from moments that will have you laughing out loud to moments that will have you in floods of tears. 

milk and honey by spaceisgay (ChancellorGriffin) Words: 28,651

SNW. Kirk and Spock meet for the first time when they wake up in a prison cell together. A really fun, and extremely clever, version of the ‘aliens made them do it’ trope. It’s intriguing and funny with a real depth of feeling throughout.

The Promised Land by gunstreet Words: 58,260 @gunstreet

TOS. A story that explores the time Jim and Spock spent apart between the end of the 5 year mission and TMP. It’s a beautiful story of reunion and renewal of love. Sometimes achingly sad, but it’s worth it for the happy ending.

Again, if you've read any of these already then I'd love to hear your thoughts on whether you loved them as much as I did! 🥰

[cambion-companion]

Can’t stop thinking of a tav who just showers Raphael in attention and affection. It’s the little things like listening attentively to his plays and dramatizations whenever they ask anything, to looking at him like he hung the moon and the stars, cupping his face as if he’s some kind of precious lovely thing instead of you know, A DEVIL

Just tenderness because that’s not something common in the world of devil and demons (I think?)

Ps: love your writing!

Hi! Thank you! I took the opportunity to write more Patron!Raphael, with a little bardic twist!

Raphael x reader (gn)

You were Raphael’s favorite.

This knowledge you wore with great pride and much to the aggravation of his other servants.

You had never expected a patron Fiend to be so dynamic.  His passion for the performing arts rivaling even your own.  You’d struggled being a bard for so long, working your fingers raw upon the instruments that refused to sing for you.  Your creative abilities severely stunted.  Until Raphael entered your life.

The cambion had carefully watched your passion to act and dance, recognizing in you his own desire to draw down the magic of words upon parchment.

You had been so eager to sign his contract, agreeing to serve him and spread his own creations to the material plane in exchange for unhindered, undiluted talent.

Raphael was quite pleased with this arrangement.  Under his mortal disguise he would often attend your little shows, his amber eyes glinting with self-satisfaction as he watched his little bird channel his creations. Through you, Raphael gained another taste of what being a god must feel like.

At the end of another long recitation of one of Raphael’s more laborious poems, you watched the guests file from the room and took a welcome drink of cool water for yourself.

Raphael leaned against the marble pillar, idly swirling a glass of red wine as he studied you.

“You’re not enunciating enough during the last stanza.”  Raphael tutted lightly, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “The attention of your guests lapses accordingly.”

You grimaced and rubbed your sore throat. “Sure, it’s my enunciation. Not the fact you drone on about the tempestuous nature of pixies for five minutes.”

Raphael’s smile didn’t reach his dark eyes. “For a mortal so favored by Fate, you certainly enjoy tempting it.”

“I’m not favored by Fate, I’m favored by you.”

“Well said.  Well spotted.”  Raphael chuckled and drained his cup before placing it aside and moving close, the fragrance of his musk burning your nostrils. His hand cupped your jaw and tilted your face up. “Not appreciated nearly enough, however. I labor long so that you may be the conduit of my brilliance.”

You couldn’t help but roll your yes, a twinge of unwelcome fondness stirring yet again within you for this curious devil. “I adore everything you create, Raphael.  Well…almost everything.”

“And what, pray tell, is the exception?”

You hesitated and pulled your head out of his grip, his long index finger trailing beneath your chin. “Well, that song about the hagspawn was pretty terrible.”

Raphael inclined his head. “Granted, it was not my best creation. Yet you did it justice, once you heeded my tender correction and stopped laughing.”

You rubbed your lower back at the unpleasant memory. “Yes…I remember your ‘correction’ quite well.”

“As always, it is my intent to make an impression.”  Raphael extended a hand which you took, preparing to be whisked back to his House of Hope. “Even amongst the most stiff-necked of my servants.”

A blast of hot air met your face as Raphael pulled your body through the familiar hellfire portal.  You didn’t mark the change, but Raphael had shed his human guise and now stood before you in full cambion form.  He stretched his arms and wings wide, clearing his throat before launching into a dramatic recitation of his newest poetic piece.

You sat in an armchair as far away from the roaring fire as possible, listening to Raphael’s deep voice paint the images of an epic tale. It was clearly another of his self-insertion stories with a protagonist modeled after how Raphael perceived himself. Which was a sight different than the reality.

Despite the blatant conceit, you couldn’t help but be drawn into the world he had created. You clapped enthusiastically at the end of his impassioned oratory.

As always, you were his biggest fan. Aside from himself of course.

Haarlep passed through the large room on the way back to the Boudoir he was often confined to.  The incubus wore a sleepy expression and the usual replication of Raphael’s image, carrying a mug of steaming liquid in hand.

“Raphael has just come up with the most exquisite tale, Haarlep!”  You said with excitement, not noticing Raphael’s glare on you soften slightly at your words.

“Believe me, cherub.  I’ve heard it all.”  Haarlep waved a dismissive hand in your direction and continued on his way.

“He doesn’t like me much.”  You said, a little put out as you always were at Haarlep’s disinterest.

“Pay him no mind.”  Raphael handed you yet another long sheaf of parchment whereon he’d scrawled more lyrics for you to memorize. “There is only one whose attentions you should crave.”

You glanced over his work and smiled, trying in vain to hide your delight at the new project. “Of course, but it does get a little confusing since you insist on him wearing your form.”

Raphael’s tail smacked your backside causing you to hiss at the sting. “Careful, little nightingale. Even my fondness for you has its limits.”

[piss-pumpkin]

Bad dreams (Percy x reader)

Child of Hypnos reader, ~4.5k words, set ambiguously after pjo, the request was enemies to lovers so I sincerely apologize. Masterlist

Capture the flag. It was a game of epic highs and lows, winner and losers, all to decide who wore the crown. Until next week, that is. And nobody took it more seriously than Annabeth, determined to win and keep her indestructible reputation as the best strategist around. She was in the war room, taking this very seriously, and discussing with her right hand man before the team.

Percy groaned, dramatically dropping his head on the table, half pushing off the map. “Annabeth, why?” He complained, hand waving in the air to communicate the distain that she couldn’t see in his face. 

Annabeth sighed, taking her head in her hands. “I know you don’t like them,” she started calmly, crossing the floor to Percy to pat his back gently. “But the Hypnos cabin is an asset, between all of them, we can have half the enemy team asleep,” she said, ever pragmatic.

Percy was not a fan of her reasoning, as sound as it was. Unfortunately for him, the head counsellor of the Hypnos cabin was you. And You and Percy? He didn’t even want to think about. No idea why you decided not to like him upon meeting, even less of an idea how it’s escalated as far as it has. “Wise girl, have mercy,” he whined, standing up straight again. “Putting me in a room with them is a sure fire way to lose.”

Annabeth pursed her lips. “That might be true,” she started, circling the table, eyes the pieces she set dramatically to represent each of her forces. One or two Hypnos campers per squad to weaken the enemy. “But they’re essential to the plan, just… you’ll be in different areas, if all goes well.”

Percy grumbled. Things never went well. 

As the battle drew closer, the allied cabins assembled to hear the more polished version of Annebeths plan. And of course, that meant you at the table, front and centre, your forces being an essential part of the strategy. Great. You always listened to Annabeth, even though she was always sticking up for him. And she managed to get you on the same team, even when you knew that guy you hated would be there. 

You nodded along with the details, assigning siblings you thought best for each task. You seemed a lot nicer with them. 

You conferred with your cabin, and offered another plan to Annabeth. Percy wasn’t completing focused, because when you were done, he had no idea what you’d said. Annabeth seemed to be a fan though. She nodded along, and adjusted the prices on her map while you have people notes and alternate delegations.

An order to each cabin head. All except him. He glanced around at each counsellor telling their cabin mates what they should do, and he cringed. You’d instructed everyone else. “Uh,” he started looking to you because Annabeth was busy talking to the Apollo counsellor. “Does my job change at all?” 

You pursed your lips, smiling just slightly. “No, I guess I didn’t have anything for you,” you said slyly. “But isn’t jumping in without thinking kind of your whole thing? Just roll with that, yeah?” 

Percy’s face flattened as he sighed. He needed somebody else, “Annabeth?” He asked.

She turned to him, and thought for a moment. “They might have a point,” she said curiously, much to his detest. Percy grumbled as she continued. “Using you as a wild card might be beneficial, especially because you can take large groups of them at once.”

Great. No job, and more work, somehow. And you were smiling, a bit too satisfied with yourself and his annoyance. Why was it always like this? 

                                             …

There was one time when Percy was sparring with Clarisse, and they got a little too heated, and it ended up with Clarisse on Pegasus cleanup duty, and Percy teaching sword classes for a week. Definitely the lighter punishment, considering he liked the job. Chiron always went a little easy on him. But there were layers to this punishment. Primarily: you.

When Percy was approaching, he saw you, and sighed. You were there first, already talking to the younger campers, wide smile on your face and holding a weapon. Ugh. Of course he had the misfortune of fucking up the same time as you. Okay. This week was actually going to be terrible. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he said, jogging up to you and the campers. You’d just finished some sort of introduction, it was the perfect time to slide in. The youngest kid looked maybe ten, and had a dagger in her hand. She was little small for the real swords. The kids were looking up at him, faces blank or curious, and you were side eyeing him, brow raised, completely unimpressed. Yeah, he should probably do something interesting.

“Yeah, you sure were,” you laughed sarcastically, sounding just nice enough for the kids not to pick up on your distain. 

Percy grimaced. Great start. With a deep breath, he did  his best to recover, running his hands through his hair nervously. “Well, I’m here now, so,” he said, looking at the younger campers. Grinning, and ignoring your cold stare, he uncapped Riptide, and a few kids gasped. “How about we get to the fun stuff?”

He spared you a glance, catching you roll your eyes at him. This was not going to be a good week. Quite possibly the worst punishment Chiron could’ve given him. 

It’s hard to teach as a team when you can’t get along  for a second. And all the kids noticed, and did their best to egg you on. Percy was fighting for his life harder than he had on several quests, until the very last minutes of the time slot. Thank the gods it was only like, an hour. Even if it was one of the longest hours of his life.

And he wasn’t even spared when it was over.

“Of course we fucked up on the same week” you sighed, picking up a carelessly discarded sword. “Let me guess, something boring…” you started, walking idly toward the weapons rack with a handful of blades. “Like what, blowing up the bathroom again? Or sneaking out of camp for a quest?”

Hmm. Low blow. Though not completely unwarranted. “No, much cooler than that,” Percy sighed, rolling his eyes as he kicked up some dust from the arena floor. “Beating up Clarisse.”

You scoffed, “somehow I doubt that.”

And you weren’t exactly wrong. It was more of a mutual beating up, in a sort of frenemy way, Percy was the first to admit. But not to you. “Hey, you should see her,” he chided. “There’s cold hard proof.”

You bumped his shoulder on the way out of the arena, sighing. “Maybe I will, I could get some tips on kicking your ass,” you said, raising your brow. 

By the time he thought of a good-ish response, you were too far away to hear, and he was kicking himself for letting you get the last word. He glanced around the empty arena dumbly. It looked like you finished the cleanup while he just stood there, another point you had on him now. The punishment may not have been a competition, but you seemed to be winning thus far. Shit. 

And it only gets worse from there. 

He managed to come early the second day, a full fifteen minutes to get warmed up, and think about what could be good to teach the newbies. And he had the arena all to himself to slash dummies in the exact way he’d instruct them to do later. 

“Clarisse told me Chiron intervening is all that saved you from getting sent to the infirmary,” you said.

Percy jumped, Riptide nearly falling out of his hand. When the fuck did you get here? He hadn’t heard you at all. Sneaky bitch. He turned to face you when he recovered from his shock, “yeah, well, she couldn’t admit she lost a fight if there was a gun to her head.”

You didn’t look sold. You raised your brow, “could you?”

He pursed his lips. He wanted to say something like, yes, duh! But quickly realized it might be a lie. To most people he could, but admitting defeat to you felt much worse. Like it would confirm all your doubts or apprehensions about him, or whatever your grudge was. He decided a little lie wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. “I could,” he said casually, slashing a combat dummies head. 

He didn’t see your face as you hummed lowly with disapproval. Probably for the better. 

Or so he thought, because as you were walking towards the dummy beside his, he started to feel drowsy. His slashes got slower as his arms felt heavier, like they were weighing him down. He looked at you, and immediately wanted to lie down and pass out. Ugh.  Your subtle smirk told him you knew exactly what you were doing. And it only escalated when the kids started to arrive. 

You started the lesson off assertively. While he was struggling to blink with his heavy eyelids. “If you have any cool demigod abilities, you should totally use them literally whenever you can,” you said, pointing your weapon enthusiastically at the campers. 

Percy couldn’t help but watch in slight awe as you engrossed them all. You narrowed in on a son of Apollo,  your blade staring him down as you told him he should get comfortable using healing abilities in a fight. You seemed to have a suggestion for everyone; the daughter of Hectate should use the mist, a Demeter kid should try and use vines, your Hypnos brother should use… sleep powers. Percy knew about those all too well. 

Percy had to admit he was jealous of the way they seemed excited about your ideas. Did they really like you more than him? It wasn’t that he felt bad not being liked, he was plenty used to that in all the schools he went to. It was more that it was you. The way you showed a nicer side to seemingly everyone but him. His body still felt like it was made of lead. 

You had some blind spots though. Not everyone had powers, Percy guessed, watching a couple Athena kids rolling their eyes or looking at the ground. “I hate to interject,” Percy started, stealing your and the kids attention again. “But this is weapons training, there are other classes for using abilities.” Plus, maybe you’d stop using yours if they got back on focus. 

”Hey, I’m teaching them how to fight better, isn’t that the goal?” You shot back. You seemed to catch the way his eyes were lingering on the kids without abilities. “Even if you don’t have any specific powers,” you said, turning back to the campers, “if we start using them, you’ll learn how to counter them, and kick our asses better.”

Percy sighed. You seemed pretty stuck on this. He tiredly uncapped Riptide, and pointed at it. “Weapons class, Y/n. Let’s focus on using weapons,” he said. 

You shifted your lips around, maybe chewing on them, and then seemed to have a thought. Unfortunately. You smiled at the kids, “yeah, well, Percy doesn’t always use his abilities to the fullest when he fights,” you said. “Maybe don’t take his lead too much.”

Ugh. “Well, it’s not always as easy as some people make it look,” he said, gesturing at you. “Not everyone has powers, and some people get drained easily by theirs. For me, I can’t always rely on there being water around me.”

You crossed your arms, raising your brow, and actually looked at him this time. “You know what people are made of, right?”

The kids were listening intently, some snickering and smirking to themselves. A couple seemed annoyed that the training was paused just so the teachers could bitch at each other. Percy sighed, “yeah, no, I don’t want to do that. I think that was an episode of Avatar: the last airbender.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Well you might win more fights if you did,” you said snidely. Your eyes lowered a moment as you lowered your voice with a bitter tone, “I hate the idea of you going easy on me.” 

Before Percy could respond with a retort of his own, you’d dropped the mean act and completely focused on the kids, upbeat and happy. You clapped your hands together, and shot them a wide smile, “how about a demonstration, guys?” 

Aw shit. The kids lit up, nodding along as you continued. “How about me and Percy have a little match, and we see who wins, yeah?” You said, grinning at him. Ugh. It wasn’t a secret that people said he was the best swordsman at camp, but you were a head counsellor too. And even if he could stab you, he probably shouldn’t in front of the kids anyway. 

He had started to tune you out, but got snapped back to reality when he heard his name. “Percy, are you down?” You asked with faux sweetness. Ugh. Percy sucked a breath in through his teeth, and sighed. “Uh-Sure,” he said cautiously. 

You grinned, and the kids stepped back and whispered to each other. Yeah, they definitely picked up on your rivalry. They waited restlessly, probably excited to see the climax of your mutual dislike. Like the fight was inevitable. He uncapped Riptide with a sigh, and raised the blade as you shooed the kids to step further back. He took a fighting stance, raising his blade at the ready. Just great. Your aura of tiredness or whatever was affecting him seemed to get worse. Yeah, he might be fucked without water. 

You smirked, twirling a weapon of your own between your fingers and glancing at your audience happily, chest puffed out in self satisfaction. “Do you want to count us down?” you asked the kids, grinning. 

They nodded along, three, and Percy sighed, eying the water bottle he had off to the side. If he could get it then maybe... whatever. Maybe if he beat you, you’d lay off. Two. Or, if you won, you could get ten times worse. One. There was no good outcome. And it’s not like either of you could maim each other with the kids watching. 

Ugh. Still weighed down by an impossible spell of drowsiness, Percy started to lunge forward, sword ready to slash in an arc above his head. But then he looked at you. And you looked at him. And you were shooting him a finger gun, and Percy was out cold, without enough time to grumble or complain about it. Well shit. 

Like most times he slept, he was dreaming. Nightmares, specifically. At least he felt no godly presence, or anything sinister. Today, it was Annabeth and Grover dead on the floor, with Kronos in Luke’s body glaring at him from the sidelines. And then it was just Luke, looking at him sadly, approaching him, and then asking why he let his sister die. Percy didn’t have an answer. 

Nightmare Luke wasn’t a fan of that. Suddenly he was turning back into Kronos and raising Backbiter, and Percy was completely unable to move, paralyzed by fear, sadness, and bitter anger. Great. Just great. 

But Luke didn’t swing. He stopped, eyes cloudy and blank, and the bodies faded away. Was his subconscious being nice today? Luke stepped back, and his sword has vanished, and the scene was fading fast. 

Percy was awake. He grumbled, not wanting to open his eyes. His head was in the dirt, body completely weighed down by his own exhaustion. The arena floor wasn’t the worst place he could’ve fallen, at least. He grumbled, sat up, and rubbed his eyes until they opened.

You were still there, Percy’s eyes flew open, shaking any lingering tiredness. He scooted back just slightly. You were sitting beside him, head rested in hands and lips pursed. “Uhh,” he stuttered, scooting back further. “You’re uh, still hanging out here?” A quick glance showed the kids were gone, and the lesson had been over for a while. 

”You have some of the worst nightmares I’ve seen, dude,” you said simply, shifting your head from hands to hand. “I’m… sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t mean to snoop.”

Percys brow furrowed. What? You looked apprehensive, but your words didn’t seem malicious in the slightest. He stopped scooting back, but he held his arm up defensively between you, unsure why. You didn’t have a weapon. “It’s… fine. Was it you that… ended it?” He asked tentatively.

You nodded. “It didn’t seem fun,” you said quietly. You looked away, hiding your face in a palm, “Sorry for putting you in there, I guess,” you said. “I’ll try to avoid sleeping you, if you want.”

Percy looked at you quizzically, jaw hung slightly open, more than confused. You were being nice. That’s crazy. He wasn’t sure how to act. Every word he said was laced with hesitation and the slightest bit of a stutter. “Thanks, I guess,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “Appreciate it.”

You nodded, and a slightly sealed silence fell over the woods as you refused to look at him. But you didn’t stand up to leave yet either. 

“Hey, Y/n, can I ask,” he started, sitting up straighter and crossing his legs. “Usually you hate me…” he said, almost wincing. “Do you… not, today?”

That got your attention, and your eyes were burning through him. Your brow furrowed, and softened, your mouth opened and then closed, you looked away, then back at him, and then sighed. “I don’t hate you, Percy,” you admitted, sounding abjectly defeated. 

That got an involuntary “huh?” Out of him. You totally hated him. That was just a fact. 

You sighed, and shook your head, turning back away from him. You tone was far lighter this time, “no, I don’t hate you, I just- I don’t know,” you said.

”Then why-“ Percy started dumbly, but quickly trailed off, unsure how to make his question less rude. There didn’t seem to be an obvious answer. “Why are you like this,” he asked, cringing at his own callousness.

You snickered, looking at him with a slight and awkward smile. You shrugged, and looked back at the woods. Percy didn’t speak, he barely breathed, waiting for any sort of a signal from you. Somehow, it worked. You sighed , and stretched your legs in front of you and said, “I don’t know.” You paused, probably thinking. “It just comes naturally, I guess.”

Percy hummed. 

“That came out mean, didn’t it,” you laughed softly. 

“Like most things you say,” he laughed, but quickly trailed off. “Sorry.”

You smiled hesitantly, looking over at him with softer eyes than he usually sees on you. “No, that was deserved,” you said.

Percy smiled, and then raised his brow, surprising himself. That didn’t happen when he talked to you, this was fresh territory. Before he could respond, you were standing, and for the first time, offering him a hand up. And for the first time, he took it. 

You pulled him to his feet, but didn’t look at him, curtly turning your head away as he stood in front of you. Percy couldn’t help but snicker under his breath. You seemed intent on staring at a tree.

”Hey,” Percy started, brushing his hair out of his face. “Do you wanna go get on the same page about what we’re teaching them tomorrow so we don’t have a repeat of today?” He asked. He got a little scared when you finally looked at him, but you didn’t seem angry. And if anybody knew your angry face it was him. “We’ll probably be better teachers if we actually work together on it.”

You hesitated, raising your brow. “Uh, really?” You stuttered, crossing your arms and shrinking into yourself. 

Percy sighed. He was doing this, he’d committed now. For better or worse. “Yeah,” he nodded, with a friendly smile. “Why not? Let’s go get lunch or something.”

Percy wasn’t sure how well his olive branch was working. Your lips were pursed and arms still crossed, but.. the ever so familiar scowl you often showed him was absent from your lips. That could be good. You looked at the ground, then back to him, “yeah, okay.”

And here he was braced for rejection and an insult. Small victories. Percy grinned, nodding his head in the general direction of the dining pavilion, “then let’s go.” 

You nodded, and walked quietly beside him as he started for the path. Okay, a little awkward silence was nothing, that was still a win. Miles better than where he was this morning. Or even like, an hour ago. So Percy was inclined to try and bridge the gap. “The kids are gonna be really surprised when we actually work together, tomorrow,” he laughed. Careful words, when, not if.

He caught in his peripheral the tug of your lips upward into the slightest of smiles. “They’ll never see it coming,” you said. Maybe like a joke. Wow, was this actually working? You let out a small laugh, “neither did I.”

Percy but the inside of his cheek to suppress a smile. That made two of you, because this was the last thing Percy expected too. “Yeah,” he started. “Not bad though.”

For the first time in a good minute, you met his eyes, and his attention was drawn. You didn’t normally look at him like that. It was a… nice change pace. You sighed, “No, not the worst.” You swished your cheeks around a moment as you paused, but didn’t say more. And Percy would be lying to himself if he tried thinking he wasn’t a little disappointed. It almost looked like you were gonna say something nice. Well, maybe not the worst was nice enough. For you, at least.

”Percy, I’m really sorry about those nightmares,” you said finally, looking at the ground. 

Ah. That. Percy didn’t tell all that many people about his shit dreams. It was kind of a given that most people at camp got them, in some capacity at least. But he did his best to project a lighthearted image, especially when he was with the younger campers. “Oh,” he said dumbly. 

“If you want, I can help with those,” you offered quietly. 

Now that caught Percy’s attention. He raised his brow, “You can do that?” And he didn’t ask his other question: you would do that? Like, for him? 

You looked up at him, then back to the ground as the two of you approached the dining pavilion. “Yeah, Hypnos stuff,” you mumbled. “I do it for some other people too.”

Oh gods, you felt bad for him. That was a weird thought. “Oh- you don’t have to do that,” he started, suddenly far more embarrassed. So that’s why you were being nice. Suddenly it didn’t feel as good as before.

You looked up at him with wider eyes now, and bit the inside of your cheek. “Well, if you ever change your mind.”

Something about your pity didn’t sit right with him, even if was glad you didn’t look like you wanted to bite his head off. This look, the feeling sorry for him face, was somehow worse. “I won’t,” he snapped, sounding meaner than he meant. Or maybe he did mean it, in his bitterness he couldn’t tell. “You don’t need to pretend to like me now that you feel bad.”

You brow furrowed, and that pity look was gone in an instant. “Hey asshole, I was just offering to help,” you spat. Now this was more familiar. You crossed your arms at your chest as you walked. “Thought about being nice for once.”

”Yeah, for once,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Because now you feel bad.”

”Oh shut up,” you said, shaking your head with a glare. You stopped just short of the pavilion. “You aren’t special because you get nightmares, idiot, half the camp does,” you said, stepping closer to him. He was inclined to back away. “I’ve seen worse.”

Percy took another step back. There was a few stray campers sitting in the pavilion watching curiously, now. 

“But sure, go ahead,” you said, hands animating with your words. He flinched a moment as you halfway gripped the air. “Keep having your shit dreams, I don’t care.”

“Then why did you offer,” he spat back.

You looked at him like he was an idiot, shaking your head. “Because nightmares suck, nobody deserves that shit,” you said, like it was obvious. “Not even a stuck up asshole who thinks he’s better then everyone.”

What? Percy stood dumbly for a moment while your sharp glare subsided into a duller scowl. Did he really come off like that? “I’m not-“ he started, but quickly gave up. As much as he wanted to insult you back, half the things you said were genuinely pretty nice. You were right, nobody deserved that.

You scoffed, “sure you’re not,” you said bitterly. 

The two do you stood silently for a moment. And a few moments more. The couple of campers watching awkwardly tried to go back to eating. The lunch plans the two of you made seemed so far in the past now. Same with the idea of getting in the same page.

Percy spoke first. “I don’t- I don’t think like that,” he said lamely.

”No, you’re just the hero of Olympus, who goes on all the quests, who the gods tried to give immortality too,” you said. But the malice was gone. “You’re the reason I even have a cabin here,” you said quietly. 

Percy winced. How do you explain to somebody that going on all those quests… wasn’t always great. It stopped being amazing when more lives were at risk, the stakes got higher, people died. A lot of the time all the glory kind of sucked. “Well it’s… not all it’s cracked up to be,” Percy managed. “I mean, you saw the aftermath.”

”Yeah,” you said, looking at the ground. “That’s why I thought.. you might not be how I thought.” You looked up, expression made of stone. “But at least you’re… I don’t know,” you trailed off, “I think I’d still rather be somebody, even if it sucks.”

Percy half heartedly laughed through his nose, “Usually I feel the opposite, it would’ve been easier to be a kid of some minor god.”

”Grass is always greener, I guess,” you sighed. 

“You are somebody, though,” Percy said, realizing he should probably address that. The idea that you were insecure seemed so alien. The way you insulted him always seemed so confident. “You don’t need a ton of quests or fights to prove that.”

You rolled your eyes, a weak smile was forming on your lips, “well, that’s easy for you to say. I’m only here, and claimed, and in a cabin because you made the gods pay their child support.”

Percy smiled softly, gesturing his head to the tables at the pavilion. He started to walk as he spoke, “that’s the gods, that’s their problem,” he said, grabbing a plate to fill with the magic food with you behind him. “You’re more then the gods approval.”

He had to look back to see if you were still there, the way you went quiet. You grabbed a plate, and followed him to a table, all with that stone faced look. Not pity or malice, this time. When you sat down beside him, you finally cracked. “Thanks,” you managed, staring ruefully at your food. 

“It’s true,” Percy said. 

You looked up at him, a slight smile on your lips this time. “Thanks,” you said, more confidently. 

“Are you still up for helping me with the nightmares?”

This request haunted me for like over a month cuz I couldn’t get anything out of it for a while. I wasn’t gonna post here but I ended up happier with it then I thought tho. Can you tell I never write enemies to lovers? I usually hate that trope lmao. Anyway part 2 coming maybe.

[matrixbearer2024]

okay hear me out

vox accidentally slips and talks about angel dust like super indirectly he goes like:

Blah blah blah I had a super bad day blah blah blah fuck my life blah blah blah cause val is pissed cause one of his whores- angel I think tried to stand up to him and blah blah blah

and reader is like

wait wait wait ‘tried to stand up to him’? What do u mean? and vox is like trying to make the situation seem not as bad as it looks (he fails epically) and reader gets mad cause how could vox just let his coworker hit his employees??

Muddled Morality

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: Vox ranting and Reader nearly tearing him a new one- I love their dynamic and it's actually really funny for me to write our dear (Y/N)'s on-off confused attraction to the bipedal flatscreen. Like it's so evident that they love this man, but at the same time he does something so stupid it totally shatters the rose-tinted filter he'd got going on. They're already running around in circles at this point with Mr TV head's hesitation to act on his emotions and Reader's absolute obliviousness.

A/N: It gets a little angsty towards the end but they'll be okay soon- I feel like this was just another reality check Vox needed to hear from Reader who wasn't really gonna let his shit slide lmao- anyway, I hope you guys enjoy! As always, happy reading!

Providing the tech overlord with some much needed care was one thing-

But you didn't ever pin him to be a heavy sleeper.

Until now that is.

"Vox. Vox. Wake up. Vox."

You sighed when he made a noise similar to a whine and his arms tightened around you slightly.

You'd be lucky to get out of this now without prying him off you.

Your cuddling session was going extremely well and dandy compared to what you had expected.

It just so happened that after a while, your legs were predictably going numb for staying in the same position for too long.

Not to mention that you were hungry.

"Vooooox. Get uuuuup."

You started to poke at his screen repeatedly when he still didn't react, not caring if it left fingerprints or any marks on the glass.

He deserved it for being so difficult to wake up-

When his screen finally lit up once again to show his face, it kind of took a moment for the overlord to process what was happening.

Especially when he just stared at you wide-eyed and confused before all of a sudden tactlessly shoving you off his lap.

"HEY- WHAT THE HELL DUDE!"

So say he'd gone completely autopilot was probably the understatement of the century.

Vox could barely piece any coherent thoughts together when he noticed what position the both of you were in.

It was way too intimate to merely be friendly in his opinion.

And he didn't even know for how long you both were cuddled up like that.

God could his heart just calm the fuck down?!

You gave up yelling at the overlord when you realized he was kind of spacing out.

He refused to even look at you, just pointedly staring at the floor which for whatever reason seemed more interesting at the time.

What the hell was his problem?!

"A freakin 'thank you' would've been enough you know. Either way, I'm gonna go get something to eat. Do you want anything?"

You rolled your eyes when the overlord just shook his head, you'll bring up some food later for him anyway just in case.

When the door finally shut and you had left-

Vox quickly got up from where he was sitting and started pacing around the room.

He just fell asleep on you right?

It was that and nothing else.

You just comforted him after a stressful day-

That was it.

Just very close and very platonic and friendly cuddling-

"Why, I didn't think you would simply sneak in old chap! That's quite improper of you!"

"YOU MOTHERFUCKING-"

Alastor simply laughed when his rival nearly jumped a foot in the air from his arrival.

It was entertaining seeing the ridiculous picturebox struggle with emotions, all the more when it seemed you were involved in it!

He could easily manipulate you both for entertainment and none would be the wiser.

Besides, struggling with feelings?

They weren't children anymore.

How immature!

"What do you want?"

"Oh I was just checking around the hotel as per usual. By the way, (Y/N) didn't seem to be in the bestest of moods during dinner today. Did you perchance have any part to play in that?"

The radio demon only grinned wider when he saw Vox's expression falter slightly.

Was all that irritation towards him simply for bravado?

This was quite an entertaining exchange indeed!

"Oh fuck off, that's none of your business."

"But it is old friend! I try to ensure the happiness of everyone in the hotel, including your darling dear!"

The flatscreen overlord could see through the bullshit already, but his irritation was already bubbling over into rage.

Alastor just had to get on his nerves as always.

"Don't call them that!"

Vox didn't know why he yelled that retort of all things.

True, he called you a multitude of similar petnames anyway-

But to call you his?

That was just a flat out lie.

And he didn't dare to fool himself into believing it.

"Call them what? Don't tell me a simple nickname is winding you up."

"Quit it Al. I didn't leave Vox alone just so you could come in and antagonize him."

Both overlords suddenly looked to you leaning against the doorframe of your room.

They hadn't noticed your presence in their increasingly heated back and forth.

While you were still a little irritated with your techno companion for ignoring you earlier, you found bigger issues with Alastor just snooping in your room.

Who knows what he could've been doing.

"Charlie's looking for you. So could you kindly get the hell out of my room?"

Alastor merely laughed at your grumpiness, waving you off with his signature grin as he melted back into the shadows.

He had enough playing with you both today, maybe another time.

"Little princess Morningstar isn't really looking for him is she?"

"Nope. But he's definitely one creepy fucker and I wanted him out.

Vox would've laughed at your response if he still didn't feel so awkward.

He just couldn't stop thinking too deeply into the situation you were both in earlier.

"Wanna talk about what happened today? You just zonked out on me a while ago. I didn't think you'd be that tired."

You didn't seem to find any issue with anything though, sitting atop your bed and patting a spot next to you.

And people say he's dense-

"It's been an eventful day, in all the worst possible ways."

Your flatscreen companion eventually sat down next to you and sighed.

He was just overthinking everything.

Might as well try and stay distracted.

"Ah. Valentino again?"

"Hah, if only."

You simply listened to Vox as he went on and ranted about his day.

You were astounded to hear about so many things going wrong in quick succession.

It's like Murphy's law had somehow slapped your techno friend in the face.

'Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.'

Yeah, that seemed pretty accurate.

"Then he stormed my earlier broadcast throwing a fit and bitching about Angel trying to stand up to him-"

Okay, wait.

Hold the fucking phone.

"What do you mean 'trying'?"

Vox's ranting immediately hit the brakes at your question.

He really shouldn't have mentioned that-

Or at least worded it a little differently.

How was he going to explain this to you???

"Doll, you know I mentioned Val doesn't like it when his employees dish out some attitude-"

"And you also mentioned he can be a huge piece of shit. Angel wouldn't lash out unless he was provoked."

You practically had the overlord cornered, your serious gaze was making him squirm.

It was totally different from the gentleness you'd graced him with earlier.

"Vox."

He'd never heard you mention his name that sternly before.

In fact, you were even starting to look a little angry.

Shit.

"(Y/N), what ever happens in the studio is none of my concern-"

"So Angel can't even save himself if Valentino decides to be an abhorrent bastard for the day?! Don't you have fucking cameras everywhere?!"

It was either your words or your pained tone struck a cord in the overlord.

You knew, it was in the way his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes narrowed.

He was attempting to do damage control, and you were just not having it.

"You know, he comes back covered in bruises after those shoots sometimes. As far as I'm concerned despite being a pornstar he's really not supposed to!"

Vox didn't know what was genuinely worse.

The fact he'd unintentionally upset you because of his actions-

Or the fact you cared so much about Angel Dust.

He'd never felt any remorse towards the spider back then, only growing annoyed with him for taking so much of Valentino's attention away.

Even now, despite visiting the hotel and getting to know the others better because of you-

He still didn't bother understanding or even sympathizing with anyone's situation aside from you or himself.

He didn't need to.

Then again, was there even a need to at the start with you?

"Why- just- FUCK! Why can't you fucking care Vox?! Why is it just me?!"

It's because I love you.

The overlord merely scowled at you lecturing him.

Those few words he couldn't bring himself to say.

The courage had quickly evaporated when you grew upset at his nonchalance.

Right.

He didn't care.

And still you were the exception.

His guilt only grew when seeing the pain in your eyes.

Vox knew you made friends with most of the hotel's residents.

Save a certain radio demon-

But he wasn't aware to what extent you cared.

You really were too good for him.

Too good to be down here in hell even.

You only grew more irritated at your companion's silence.

Returning his glare with your own as your hands were furiously balled at your sides.

It took all your focus not to start hitting and swinging at his flatscreen head.

Well, he deserved it-

And still you chose not to.

It wasn't like you hated the special treatment from Vox-

Hell, it was flattering and even outright cute sometimes.

But the fact he could so easily turn a blind eye to some issues he had the power to stop-

You wanted to beat some common sense and human decency into this idiot.

The two of you sat in silence for a while until Vox suddenly got up and headed to the window.

You were about to scoff at him running away from the situation until he spoke.

"I'll see what I can do. But I make no promises."

You didn't see his face but his voice was barely above a whisper.

The overlord's tone wavering and uncertain but masked with irritation.

Not that you had any time to reply when your friend was abruptly gone in a bolt of blue electricity.

Possibly already well on his way back to the tower to care for his hellish empire.

Neither of you ever had an argument this explosive since you were alive.

And even then it was because of something stupid you couldn't remember.

But it wasn't so different compared to now.

So why was your heart aching unbearably-?

You shook your head and stormed out of your room.

Fuck it.

You needed a drink.

[dirtytransmasc]

atwow hot take:

if jake had said his "son for a son" shit out loud and spider had heard him, he would have been so beyond pissed, he would be seeing red.

spider loved his little siblings so much, neteyam included, even after they grew apart. he loved them like they were his own blood and protected them like they were too (we see a lot more of them together in the comics, where spider is the big brother without a doubt). neteyam's death most certainly rocked him hard, even if he hasn't really been able to show it (how could he? he's already going through all the shit with his dad and the RDA and their nonsense, he can't grieve around neytiri, he's just so tired after it all. he doesn't have the room or the energy to grieve yet)

so if jake had the audacity to say that to/around spider not even a few hours after he watched his little brother get shot after coming to save him, after he stared at the bullet hole in his back, after he watched him take his last breaths, after he watched the light leave his eyes, after he watched his little brother die for him; if he said that while his little brother's body lay in a pool of his own blood not even ten feet away, not even cold yet, blood still clinging to his chest, the scent of it still filling the air: he would have lost his shit.

because the disrespect for his brother is wild.

jake was an active player in spider's neglect and abuse for the last 16 years, he let it happen, he helped it happen. he tried to send spider with the humans, tried to take him away from his siblings, from the forests, from eywa to live with his foster family that didn't love him (not to mention Nash was an asswipe of epic proportions) and the RDA of all people. he had referred to spider as a stray animal since he was little. he was the reason spiders life was hell.

and after all that, years and years of putting him in shit positions and allowing him to suffer the fate of being forever unloved and uncared for (by an adult authority figure, cause I love the kids, but they don't make up for the gap left by a parent), this is what it took for jake to care about him? his little brother had to die in front of him first? he had to be traded out to fill the space of a corpse, to fill in the gap left by his little brother's death?

in canon, spider was in deep in shock with nothing to break him from it, he wasn't in the place to really think about any of it, and I'm sure we're gonna see this anger in the coming movies, but if jake had said it out loud, that would have been enough to snap spider right out of it, and he would have given jake a piece of his mind, I just know it.

[steddiealltheway]

Thinking about game night at the Jopper household with the party and everyone.

Dustin is playing score keeper / ref after losing a long game of rock, paper, scissors.

At first, they start with a game of charades, trying to figure out who will be on what teams for the final game.

No one is surprised when only Joyce can guess what Hopper is miming (besides two times when El gets it first). Unfortunately for everyone else, this turns into a very gross jopper flirting session. Will and El are the most disturbed out of anyone - Jonathan is too high to know what’s going on.

When Steve gets up, everyone expects Robin to guess exactly what he’s saying. Surprisingly, Eddie beats her to it every time although him and Steve have hardly ever hung out - both assuming the only thing they have in common is Dustin. The weirdest moment is when Steve cups his hands and Eddie immediately, correctly guesses, “Goldfish!”

When Max goes, Dustin really has the worst time being ref because Lucas swears that he said the answer before El did and vice versa. Dustin has to decide on a tie for most answers. No one is prepared for the look Lucas and El give Nancy when she gets one right answer before them.

Argyle goes up and no one gets what he means. He goes a full five minutes doing the most intense mime. In the final three seconds, he sighs, and holds his arms above his head spread wide. Jonathan yells, “Pineapple!” as soon as the timer rings out. Everyone takes a moment to try to process how any of his mime could mean pineapple. The closest he got was when he was rolling around on the ground?

Nancy gets up and everyone is expecting this to be an epic Jonathan versus Steve showdown. Absolutely not. Robin gets everything. Every single one. As the game goes on, Nancy’s smile gets bigger and bigger. And Robin gets more and more flustered and red.

When Mike stands up, no one really knows what’s going to happen - it’s been awkward since El and Mike decided to call it quits. When Mike first starts going, Hopper starts guessing things like, “Murder. Homicide. Agony. Torture…” and Joyce has to pull him to the kitchen for a bit. When Steve starts guessing, Mike breaks the silence and yells, “No!” in frustration. Finally, Will takes over and starts guessing correctly.

The next game they decide to play in groups is the most intense, dramatic game of Sorry ever.

Hopper and Joyce run out to get food for everyone - and fresh air specifically for Hopper. And Argyle and Jonathan sneak away to get high out of their minds.

This leads to the groups:

Steddie + Dustin, Elumax, Ronance, and Byler

It’s absolute chaos.

At one point, Lucas tries to argue that it’s mainly a game of chance, and Nancy slams her fists down saying that there is so much strategy (Robin yells, “Yeah! What she said!”).

Mike personally tries to ruin any move Steve makes. He sarcastically says, “Sorry,” moving Steve piece far away from home. Eddie yells, “Are you?! Are you really sorry?!” And Mike backs off for the rest of the game.

El gets called out for slowly moving a piece forward with her powers when she thinks no one is looking. But Robin and Dustin catch her wiping her nose.

Will begins muttering, “Why couldn’t this be D&D or Nintendo?” over and over at one point. Mike holds his hand to make him feel better - it works.

Max ends up getting her last piece home for her team, winning the game, after saying how she doesn’t really care if she wins or loses the whole time. (But she really really wanted to win)

Joyce and Hopper come back to find Will screaming, “Finally!” while dragging Mike away to probably play Nintendo. Steve is hugging Eddie, whispering soothing words about how it’s okay to lose sometimes. Robin is stuttering and rambling after Nancy winks at her and tells her that they make a pretty good team. Dustin is yelling at Elumax for cheating. Argyle and Jonathan are missing.

Despite all of it, Joyce and Hopper agree family game night needs to happen again.

[usnatarchives]

World War II Aviation Propaganda Posters: When Art Took Flight in the War Zone 🛩

If you think memes dominate the digital age, buckle up! During World War II, aviation propaganda posters were the OG memes, taking the skies and the hearts of people below. The powerful images and slogans displayed on aviation propaganda posters aimed to mobilize, inspire, and boost morale.

Before Top Gun made flying cool, WWII posters did it first! Many posters targeted potential pilots and ground crew, emphasizing the honor and heroism of joining the air force. The U.S. Army Air Forces, for instance, frequently used images of sleek aircraft, proud pilots, and epic aerial battles to inspire young men to enlist.

Aviation propaganda was also used to encourage the public to purchase war bonds. These posters linked the success of the air force directly to civilian financial support. A classic example from the U.S. shows an imposing B-17 bomber with the caption "Keep 'Em Flying! Buy War Bonds."

With many men on the frontlines, women's roles evolved. Posters showcased women building aircraft, highlighting their essential contribution to the war effort. The iconic "Rosie the Riveter" may be the most famous image from this category, but numerous other posters conveyed similar messages.

World War II aviation propaganda posters were more than mere pieces of art. They were tools used to shape public opinion, motivate enlistment, ensure security, and raise funds. These iconic images not only provide a fascinating glimpse into wartime sentiments but also reflect the broader social, political, and cultural shifts of the era.

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Love Me, Anyway

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Request: Joseph may have always grown up dreaming of having children and being a great father to them, and he plans to propose to his long-time girlfriend soon, just in time for her to find out that she will never have children because of a health problem related to her, and she decides to leave him, even though she loves him very much, thinking that she cannot give Joseph the life he wants.

Trigger Warnings: Infertility

You dragged yourself up the stairs of your apartment complex, each step feeling like a journey of a thousand of the most difficult miles of your life. Your body was a balloon and you were trying to keep all the air inside. Your arms wrapped around your stomach as if you could hold yourself together, keep yourself from falling apart. The news you’d received an hour ago had been a deep and crushing blow to your soul.

You failed. You were a failure, broken, incapable of doing the one thing that a woman was supposed to be able to do, that women had been doing since the dawn of time. Your entire world, the future you’d envisioned for yourself, crashing down in an epic, heart shattering explosion before your eyes. A piece of yourself was gone and you would never get it back. You’d failed yourself and worse than that, you’d failed the person you loved more than anything.

On autopilot, you dug in your purse for your key but when you inserted it into the lock, you were surprised to find the door was already unlocked. Shit. That could only mean one thing. You couldn’t do this. Not yet. You’d been hoping to drown in your misery, sob in silence where no one could hear you, prepare yourself for the inevitable second heartbreak, the one that was going to shatter your heart into a million pieces that could never be repaired again. 

The briny smell of garlic and the tang of tomato fills your nose as you push open the door and enter your apartment. Jack Johnson’s ‘Better Together’ plays over the speakers in the kitchen as you catch sight of Joe, his back to you as he stirs sauce in a pot. Just the sight of those brown locks, curling gently at his neck, those broad shoulders underneath a cream sweater. Not just any cream sweater, your favorite one, the one that feels like you imagine a fluffy cloud would feel under your fingers. 

“And all of these moments just might find their way into my dreams tonight. But I know that they'll be gone when the morning light sings,” Joe sang softly as he swayed, pouring the contents of the saucepan into the skillet. 

He always said he couldn’t sing, that no one would want to hear him. But that was a lie because you loved to listen to him. His voice was your favorite sound in the world, usually so soothing, a balm to your soul. But tonight it was like torture, a voice that hissed in your ear, reminding you of all the things you couldn’t have. That picture the two of you had painted, the plans you’d made, the future you’d longed for, it was all gone. A blade had been taken to the canvas, shredding it until nothing was left and you were going to lose everything that mattered to you in a matter of hours. How would you ever survive such unimaginable loss?

Joe would never stand in this apartment again after tonight. He would never cook another meal for you, the two of you would never spend the night cuddled up on the couch watching movies, you would never tumble into bed with hands desperately grabbing for each other. This was the end. No happy ending for you. No prince whisking you off to your happily ever after. Your story was going to end painfully, brutally, and you had to accept that because you couldn’t do this to him. You couldn’t deprive this man you loved so much of the one thing he’d always wanted so much.

“Joe…” you said softly, three small letters, one syllable that your voice struggled to make.

The pan clanged as he spun around, his hand coming up to his chest, “Jesus darling, you scared me.” He laughed, his hands finding your arms, pulling you in, tucking you into the safety of his chest. Your cheek ran over the soft material of his sweater, your nose breathed him in, trying to absorb every minute detail of this moment that could be your last. “I was trying to surprise you with dinner but you surprised me. I didn’t expect you home so soon. Don’t you normally get off work at five?”

“Yeah,” you managed, unsure how, his arms the only thing that was keeping you from sinking to the floor. “I had an appointment today so I left early.”

“Appointment?” Joe pulled back, hands gripping your biceps, chocolate button eyes full of concern, concern that only fractured you that much more. “What kind of appointment? You didn’t mention anything. Is everything alright?”

“No…I mean, yeah…I mean, everything’s fine,” you lied, your eyes closing as you inhale slowly through your nose. You had to stay strong. You had to hold yourself together just a little longer, enough to do what you had to do, and then you could let yourself crumble. “It was just a routine appointment with my gynecologist. It didn’t seem worth mentioning and I didn’t expect to see you today.”

“Well, I didn’t say anything because I wanted to surprise you.” Joe releases his hold on you, leaving you cold, slipping under, into the darkness, desperate for his arms again. He waves his arm toward the stove. “I am making puttanesca, your favorite, and I got us a great bottle of wine.”

“Fancy. What’s the occasion?” you mumbled, your hand grabbing onto the counter, bracing yourself. You were drowning, flailing, struggling to keep your head above water. 

“You,” he mused with a lopsided smile, his hands locking around the small of your back. Soft, plush lips brushed over yours so gently that you had to swallow down the tears that were fighting like a flood raging against a dam. “You’re the occasion, my love. You’re always the occasion. Do I really need a special reason to have a romantic evening with my girl?”

“No…of course not…”

“Have a seat and relax. I’ll make you a plate and pour you a glass of wine.”

Just do it, you told yourself. Get it over with. Rip off the band-aid and let the wound bleed. It would only be harder if you allowed this romantic evening he had planned to continue. Better to just do it. He would leave. You could fall apart and Joe would have the opportunity to move on with his life, to find someone who could give him everything he’d ever wanted because it wasn’t you. It couldn’t be you. Not anymore. You were broken, defective, and this man deserved a woman who was whole. 

Your brain may be on board but your body was not. Your feet took you to the table, your knees bent as you sat in the chair. Your heart was desperate for one more evening, one more dinner, one more moment where it could pretend that everything was okay. Where it could gaze upon that perfect face, the face you never tired of looking at, and know that it was yours. Just a bit longer and then you would let him go because it was the right thing to do. 

Joe set your plate down in front of you, the pasta dish looking delicious, but your stomach twisted violently. You didn’t think you could put anything in your mouth right now, bile rising up in your throat. Shit. Were you going to be sick? No. You swallowed it back. Inhale through your nose, exhale through your mouth, inhale through your nose, exhale through your mouth. The urge dissipated and you sighed in relief, picking up your fork, moving the food around, hoping he wouldn’t notice that you weren’t actually eating. 

“How was your meeting?” you asked, hoping it would get Joe talking because you didn’t trust yourself to say much. You were hanging on by a thread, a breath away from completely coming undone. 

Joe took a sip of wine, grinning widely, “Really well. Really well. I am excited about this project. The script is amazing, really dark and unique. It’s a real psychological trip. Great fun but also mind fucking in the best way. It’s different from anything else I’ve ever done.”

“Good, I’m glad. I know you’re trying to have a really diversified body of work.”

“I am. I don’t want to get pigeon holed, you know? If you’re not careful in this business, you get typecast. I was worried after Stranger Things. Don’t get me wrong. That was great fun. I loved the cast and crew on that show and I am so grateful for the doors it opened. I wouldn’t have the opportunities I have now if it weren’t for that role but the way it blew up, the love the fans had for Eddie…it just concerned me that I wouldn’t get taken seriously as an actor. But I feel like I’ve done a good variety of roles now that have shown the range of my skills.”

“You have,” you mumbled into your glass, taking a long drink of your wine, willing it to calm your nerves, to relax your muscles. “When will filming start?”

“In four months,” he answered, mistaking the look on your face, thinking it was concern about him traveling for work. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ve been through this before. I’ll fly back when I can and I’ll fly you in to visit. Filming will probably take a little over three months. Besides, I predict you could be quite busy while I’m gone.”

You looked up at him in confusion, “What do you mean?”

Joe’s lips pressed together for a moment and he suddenly looked nervous. His head tilted to the side, those beautiful lips curving into the sweetest smile. Leaning forward, elbows resting on the table, those soft brown eyes meeting yours. 

“Darling, I love you so much.” A weight so heavy it was going to crush your heart slammed into your chest. “These past two years have been the most amazing year of my life. I can’t imagine doing any of this without you. I want you by my side always. You make me better. It’s been so hard knowing who I can trust, who is genuine but never with you. I know you love me. You don’t care about the fame or the money or any of the celebrity bullshit. You just want me. You’ve been my safe place. You’re my home and I know, without a single doubt, that you always will be. You’re the person I want to come home to. You’re the person I want to sleep next to every night and the face I want to see when I open my eyes every morning.” 

He rose from his chair, coming around the table to stand in front of you. Your heart hammered in your chest, blood rushing so forcefully you could hear it whooshing in your ears. Joe’s hand slid into his pocket, revealing a small velvet box and you whimpered. No. This could not be happening. Not now. Not today. 

This beautiful man lowered himself to one knee, opening the box and presenting the most beautiful, simple princess cut ring to you. Emotions lodged in your throat, strangling you, cutting off your air supply. Your eyes widened, hysteria taking over. Hand clutched at your shirt, pulling it away from your body as you tried to tell yourself this wasn’t real. This wasn’t happening.

“I knew from the moment I met you that night at the pub that you were my forever. I told Wes I was going to marry you one day and I don’t want to wait even one more moment to start the rest of my life with you. Darling, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

“I…oh god…Joe…I…this is…what…” you stammered, tears flooding your eyes and spilling down your cheeks. 

Grief as you had never known crashed down over you like a tidal wave. This man, this beautiful, wonderful, perfect man was asking you to spend the rest of your life with him and you couldn’t even if it was the one thing you wanted more than anything in your life. You couldn’t do that to him. You couldn’t condemn him to a life that was lacking, a life that wasn’t what he wanted. You couldn’t stand to see resentment in his eyes years down the road, resentment directed at you because his life wasn’t what he’d pictured. You were going to drown in this grief, the tidal wave pulling you out to the deepest depths of the sea. 

Joe chuckled nervously, his thumb running over your cheek, collecting some of the tears, “I hope these are tears of joy that you are shedding, sweetheart.”

“Joe…” 

The word was a plea, a grief-stricken cry, a desperate sob and then your shoulders were shaking. Your body folded in half and Joe’s arms were instantly around you, pulling you to him. You slid off the chair and down into his lap. His breath was warm against your ear, lips brushing over your cheek. 

“Darling, what’s the matter?” he questioned, his voice panic-stricken. 

“I can’t,” you cried, shaking your head, your face buried against his neck. 

All you wanted to do was stay here, in the safety of his embrace, surrounded by his warmth and comfort, but you couldn’t. You had to do this and you had to do it now. You pushed away from him, wiping your eyes and rising to your feet. Joe followed, standing in front of you, hands reaching out but you backed up before he could grab you. 

“Love, what is this? What’s happening?”

“Joe, I can’t marry you,” you rasped, body trembling as you fought back the tears, fought to regain control of yourself. 

“What?” He stepped forward and you stepped back again. “Why the hell not?”

“Because…” What reason could you give him that would make any sense? There was none. There was no reason in the world why you shouldn’t marry this perfect creature. No reason you should be causing the pain that was etched onto that beautiful face. “Because it wouldn’t work, Joe. There’s no way this works.”

“Why not?” he demanded, his hand closing around the velvet box, squeezing it so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “Is this about my work? I know my job is…different. I have to be away sometimes but we’ve made it work so far.”

“Joe, I know but it doesn’t work for a long term marriage. I need stability. I need someone I can depend on to be here. I…” You were lying through your teeth but you knew you had to make it hurt if he was ever going to believe you. You needed him to walk away because you weren’t sure you were strong enough to do it. “I need someone that I can trust.”

Joe reeled back as if you’d slapped him, “And what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re always traveling. You’re always surrounded by these beautiful women. Your co-stars and the models you’ve done shoots with and the fans that throw themselves at you. How am I supposed to sit at home all the time, wondering what you’re doing?”

“When have I ever given you cause to doubt me?” he pleaded, his hands open in front of him as if begging you. If he didn’t stop, you were going to give in. Your heart couldn’t handle this.

“It’s only a matter of time, Joe. What celebrity has ever had a successful marriage? You’re a man. You can only resist temptation for so long. It’s inevitable.”

Those eyes that were usually as warm as a cup of coffee turned ice cold and you knew you’d succeeded. You’d broken the two of you, shattered it irrevocably, just like your heart. Joe would hate you. He would despise you for thinking such things of him but that’s what had to happen if he had any chance of being happy in the future. 

“That’s what you think of me?” he hissed, stepping back. “You really think I’m capable of doing something like that to you? You doubt us so much that you can’t see this working? You think we’re doomed?”

“I do,” you insisted, lifting your chin in defiance, putting on an air of strength and resolve that you didn’t have. “Joe, this has been fun but that’s all it was. That was all it was ever going to be.”

With two long strides, he stepped into you, tilting his head, eyes boring into yours, “Bullshit.”

“Wh…what?” you gasped.

“Bullshit. I don’t believe you. You just told me you love me. Fun does not last for two years. I’ve felt you, darling. The way you kiss me, the way you cling to me when we make love, the way you want me,” he growled. His nose brushed along your forehead, moving down your cheek and you shuddered. “I’ve heard you, the things you whisper in my ear while I’m inside you, the promises you’ve uttered while we lay in bed. That’s not fun. That’s forever.”

“Joe, I…please…” you begged, eyes slipping closed when his hand slid under your shirt, splaying over the skin of your back. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“Make what harder? Your bullshit break-up? The lies you’re telling me?” His lips molded to yours and your own responded, betraying you, instantly recognizing and wanting him. His forehead pressed against yours with a smile. “See? You love me. So, what is this really about? Why are you trying to destroy a really fucking good thing?”

“You don’t want me,” you cried, eyes slipping closed, tears creating trails of heartbreak down your cheeks. “I can’t be what you need, Joe. Trust me. This is the best thing.”

“Why would you say that? Why would you even think that?”

His arms were around you again, crushing you to his chest. His chin rested on the top of your head, the insanely soft sweater caressing the skin of your cheek. The sweater you were currently soaking with your tears, probably ruining with your smeared make-up but Joe didn’t seem to notice or care as he held you. His grip was like iron, keeping you from pulling away, as if he could stop you from leaving. 

“Darling, I want you with every fiber of my being. I have never wanted anything more than I want you, the future we have planned together, the life we’ve dreamed of. You are what I need. You’re all I need. I can’t do this without you.”

“But I can’t give you that future. That dream is nothing but that, a dream, if you stay with me.”

“What are you going on about?”

A sigh of defeat rushed from your lips, knowing you would have to tell him. There was no escaping this. You’d thought you could anger him enough to make him walk away but he’d called your bluff and it was time to put all of your cards on the table. You pulled back as much as you could, tilting your head up to look into his face. 

“That doctor’s appointment…it wasn’t just a routine exam. I missed my period. I didn’t think much of it because my periods have always been irregular. But then I missed another one. I thought I might be pregnant but I’m not…I never will be. I’ve also been so tired lately. I’ve had trouble concentrating at work. They ran some tests and I have primary ovulation insufficiency. I don’t ovulate. I can’t have kids, Joe.”

His lips parted, eyes widening in shock. There it was. Now he would know. He would understand. Joe would agree with you. The two of you had dreamed of a future with children. He wanted at least three, a big family. He wanted to be a dad so badly and you couldn’t give that to him. Of course he wouldn’t want you. 

“I’m defective,” you whispered, attempting to pull back from him but he simply held on tighter. “I’m broken. You don’t deserve that. How can we be together when I can’t give you the one thing you want more than anything?”

“The one thing I want more than anything is you,” Joe stated, one hand sliding along your back to cup the back of your neck. “I am so sorry. You went through all of this alone? Darling, why didn’t you just tell me? I could have been there for you. I would have gone to the doctor with you.”

“How could I tell you? You’ve made it very clear that you want children, Joe. You have always dreamed of being a dad. You’ve gone on and on about all the things you want to do, the experiences you want your kids to have, when you’re a dad. I knew I was going to lose you if the test didn’t go my way.”

Joe’s face scrunched and you fought the urge to kiss his nose, “Why would you lose me?”

“Joe, are you even listening to me?” you groaned.

“I am. I’ve heard everything that you’ve said. I didn’t fall in love with you because of your ability to give me children. I fell in love with you because you’re perfect for me. You’re everything I could have ever wanted, everything I’ve dreamed of. If we want kids someday, there are ways. We can always adopt.”

“But they wouldn’t be yours,” you argued.

“Of course they would be. Genetics are not everything, sweetheart. Love is. There are so many kids out there who need loving homes, need someone to treat them like the most important person in the world. And we would. You will be an amazing mother, if that’s what you want.”

“I do. I just…I feel like such a failure. My body is incapable of doing the thing that essentially makes me a woman.”

“The ability to birth children does not define who you are,” Joe stated, shaking his head. “Your strength, your kind heart, your beautiful soul…those are what makes you who you are. Anatomy has nothing to do with that. You are the most perfect person I know. There is nothing defective about you.”

“You still want me?” you asked, hardly daring to believe it, terrified the rug would get pulled out from under you the minute you allowed yourself to.

“Of course I do. Darling, there is no one else for me but you,” he asserted, pulling the ring from his pocket once again. “Now, can we try this again?” He opened it, holding it out in front of him. “Would you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me because you are my absolute everything?”

You looked down at the ring and then up into the face of the man you loved. Your friends rolled their eyes when you gushed about how perfect he was but it was true. There was not another man out there who could hold a candle to Joe and there would never be another man for you. 

“Yes,” you grinned, nodding. “Yes!”

“That’s the correct answer,” he laughed, one hand grabbing onto your waist, pulling you in for a soft, sweet kiss. 

“I love you so much,” you whispered against his lips. 

“I love you too and we are going to have the most amazing life together,” Joe breathed, sliding the ring onto your left hand. “You and me forever, darling.”

“You and me, forever,” you agreed, wanting nothing more. 

[cuntycheol]

Passion Pallette (Y.JH)

Summary: You need an inspiration for your next artwork. Luckily Jeonghan has a lot to spare.

Genre: Artist!Reader x BF!Jeonghan

Themes/Warnings: Boyfie, slight long hair Jeonghan (we must prioritize his sexy lil evil mind babygirls) , the following contains NSFW content(heavy on smut, straight to the point, love use of cameras, , mature language, overall it's just things we good girlies want men like Jeonghan to do) MINORS DNI!

Songs- Angels by Chase Atlantic, So Wet by Elita, Often by TheWeeknd, Feel That by Junny, 34+35 Ariana Grande, Close with Desires by Thuy, Wet by Jooyoung&Superbee,

WC: 3.5K

A/N: Happy Hannie Day<3 speciaIly for our 1004 boy. Tbh I don't think so I'll ever be sane when Jeonghan's got black hair. Blonde Hannie drives me bonkers but HIM? I would devour every single pride of his phhhew~~ enjoy this lowkey philosophical scrumptious piece caratdeuls!! Hanniehae💜💜

"Fuuu-uuck This won't do" you let out an agitated, low yet soft grumble resonates in thick air among stenches of erasers, fresh papers, acrylics and graphite pencils.

With tousled hair and pencil smudges on your hands, Y/N definitely embodied the tormented artist archetype in a world where questionable AI and digital art has taken over. Your eyes darted critically across each failed attempt, a mix of determination and irritation etched on her face. Despite the exasperation, your sketches hinted at an inexplainable beauty that seemed to elude your grasp. The past hour unfolded with a string of complaints, grappling with the current sketches, that seem to fall short of expectations in a creative mind disrupted by the stark reality of the artistic struggle.

Meanwhile Yoon Jeonghan, your smart-mouth, overly encouraging, sharp yet short-tempered boyfriend provided a contrast as the calm in your artistic tempest; occupying the quiet corner of the room perched on the bed in his usual white shirt-grey sweatpants, with his phone in hand and snacks as companions.

It wasn't a brand new thing for him to see you covered in pencil smudges, a few shavings stuck to your wooly clothing and beads of sweat, followed by smears of paint intact on your skin. Swallowing the last bits and dusting the crumbs off his finger, Jeonghan, engrossed in whatever had captured his attention on the screen, abruptly paused. He clears his throat, as a sign for you to turn around in his chair, and lean back, both of your hands on the arms of the chair; a worn-out disappointed expression plastered on your face meeting Jeonghan's unaffected lazy sunday cool and chill vibes, all while fidgeting a pencil between your fingers.

Somehow, a minuscule atom of irritation seemed to dissipate from your demeanor just by seeing him exist.

He arched an eyebrow with a playful smirk gracing his lips "Perhaps the profound muse for your next masterpiece lies in the gripping scenario of that snobby neighbor attempting to assemble something, which seems like a drawer to me. That's interesting. Hanging a hammer be pulling his jeans though" Curious, you turned your head to observe exactly whatever Jeonghan had claimed the neighbor to be doing. Tucking a strand of his newly growing hair behind his ear, he wore a lazy smile on his everlastingly beautiful face.

He continues, "well, since you're seeking for your savior, I'd say you take a good look around this room. Maybe your next stroke of genius could be inspired by the epic tale of my lone sock that always goes missing in the laundry. A true masterpiece in the making" He bites into his crackers whilst he rubs his chin and you roll your eyes, silently comply according to his suggestion. Your gaze shifts from the failed crumples of sketches on these white sheets, to the walls adorned with your vibrant creations among ivory canvases.

You realize that you do,have a discernable mood to your work. Your artistic endeavors, mostly landscapes with a touch of fantasy or nature, displayed a restraint from the chaotic realm of "multicolors on a canvas." Unless a particular idea sparked your imagination, your aesthetic embraced simplicity, classic elegance, and a penchant for monochrome. Safe to say your aesthetic was always something that's not too much work. Something that radiates simplicity, classic and monochrome.

Your distinctive perspectives, where focus and pressure converged on the canvas, propelled you towards an 8-week apprenticeship among renowned artists in the enchanting city of Paris. During this artistic sojourn, you didn't just participate; you left an indelible mark with your meticulous approach and unwavering passion.

Jeonghan as well tagged along your journey. He possesses an enchantment for photography, turning moments of your artistic journey into captured treasures. His lens became a portal to the nuances of your triumphs, framing the dedication etched on your face during meticulous strokes, the palpable joy of artistic breakthroughs, and the undeniable chemistry between you and your boyfriend amid the vibrant backdrop of Paris. What went on in the streets were no secret, but what went under those sheets certainly were.

Each photograph was a narrative, telling the story of your artistic evolution. The peculiar enchantment of Jeonghan's photography wasn't just in freezing moments; it was in capturing the soulful connection between artist and muse, the shared joy, and the unspoken dialogues spoken through brushstrokes and stolen glances. Among these visual tales, a particular photograph held a special place. Attached near your Paris Masterpiece artwork, it became a center of the collage photo-set. This photograph encapsulated a moment of shared triumph, where you and Jeonghan, in the city of love, converged in a harmonious blend of creativity. The collage itself became a visual symphony, each candid frame resonating with the echoes of your artistic journey, all with the ever-present, enchanting gaze of Jeonghan.

Your boyfriend's sharp remarks were that each of your piece has always radiated not just simplicity but a timeless beauty, where the pressure on the material seemed to extract the essence of your creative soul.

However, on this particular day, a subtle roadblock seemed to challenge your artistic flow, leaving you searching for that elusive spark amidst the familiar canvases that held the stories of your passion and precision.

Following Jeonghan's suggestion, you survey the room until your eyes land on him. He's immersed in his phone, savoring the crumbs off his lips with a casual yet endearing demeanor. In that moment, a realization dawns – a silent connection between the imperfect sketches scattered around, the vibrant stories on the walls, and the living work of art himself, your boyfriend, on the bed.

He, the constant cheerleader, has observed your artistic reverie. According to his shrewd observations, whenever you zoned out, you stood in a particular position-arms crossed, head tilted at a precise 75 degrees, and your lower lip caught between your teeth. All accompanied by the rhythmic tapping of your right foot. According to him, it's the hottest and weirdest thing ever.

"What?" He questions, because at this point you've most certainly lost in your thoughts. He rise on his knees,adjusting his waistband while calling your nicknames. eyes still didn't move. "Y/N? Hey Y/N? Babe? Baby!!" His soft vocals exhaust on the common affectionate names he often calls. Finally, you snap out, a downward smile suggesting a revelation.

You meet Jeonghan's gaze with eyes that now hold a bright spark, silently claiming, "Well, I have an idea." Clasping your hands together, you take a deliberate breath, a pencil poised smirk slowly overshadows your expression, "I've found my muse. And it's you!"

Jeonghan, who was now sipping the life out of his juice raises an eyebrow as loud as an 'objection' in court, "Oh, have You now? Think you can capture my snack-induced radiance." You flash him a teethy grin, "I don't think so, I know so. Your carefree vibe is a challenge, but there's nothing I can't do."

Jeonghan can be a hassle sometimes. When he willingly agrees to something, he plays hard to get. It's so frustrating at some point you have to fuck it out of him. It makes him equally attractive and annoying. You toss your book onto the white blankets, with the title "Simplicity meets Seduction" which is a part of your new artwork theme. Lets be honest, nothing ignites the fire- a lava in you unless it's Jeonghan. The warmth of lust pools in your body whenever he gazes at you, touches you. You don't boost his ego much but the way he handles you, forces you to do add some catalyst in his already sky-high mentality. He's equally the meanest and the kindest person you've ever known.

"Simplicity and seduction, interesting" he scoffs "you definitely know how to take a challenge. Since you're adamant, I'll let you do the honors. Ask and you shall receive my permission for a tester sketch" he fixes his posture, grabbing a lollipop from the jar of candies he loves to keep at bedside. You lean towards him, capturing his now frozen body between your arms, and meet him at eye-level, "Hannie, do you mind being my model for my artwork.." you move towards his ear for a whisper "please?"

The effect is immediate – a swallowed gulp, a beetroot red face, and his gaze darting toward the window as if seeking refuge in the bright corner of your creativity sanctum, all while holding the lollipop between his lips, contemplating the fragility of his sanity.

With a wicked grin, you add, "Oh, I can already see the artistic brilliance oozing from this 'tester' sketch. Brace yourself for your immortalization, Hannie."

Sitting between Jeonghan's legs for the next hour, capturing every meticulous details. Defined face, long lashes, gravity defying, soft loose strings of hair. Cheekbones subtly accentuated, with the faint mole that adds the sophistication. He looked a whispered tale of care.

Throughout the process, Jeonghan couldn't help but steal glances at you, his gaze lingering on your focused eyes and the loose button-up cardigan that slipped off your shoulders, revealing collarbones equivalent to a blank canvas begging to be painted.

"Here," you say, breaking the artistic spell, showing him your sketchbook. "Took you forever...phewweee" you hand it over, both of your hands linger dangerously close to his middle, a move that was evidently driving him crazy. Another strong gulp betrays his inner turmoil as he shifts his gaze to the book, his lips parting in anticipation.

When he sees your work, his eyes widen, and for a moment, he's utterly speechless. The sketch, beyond expectations, captures not just the physical features but the essence of Jeonghan's charisma. The defined face, the playfulness in his eyes, a shade of graphite to enhance the blush he had earlier, the tousled crown of hair – it's a mirror reflecting the unique cocktail of sophistication and mischief that makes Jeonghan, well, Jeonghan.

He continues to examine the sketch with an appraiser's eye, and his expression shifts from playful to genuinely impressed. "This is more than just a sketch. It's like you captured the essence of a moment, frozen in time. The daisy, the playful expression – it's a piece that breathes life."

As he sticks it over the headboard, he adds, "Perfection deserves a place of honor. And this, my dear, is perfection." His compliment is laden with a sense of appreciation that goes beyond mere words.

"This is simplicity at its finest, and you know how it meets seduction?" He smirks, that is a signal of danger His tone holds a hint of admiration, his eyes lingering on the sketch as if unraveling its secrets. "Follow"

As you follow him, his grasp on your wrist adds an unexpected thrill and the exact "warmth of lust" pools in your veins. He leads you to his perfect yet contained studio.

"You're an artist with a wicked touch, turning the ordinary into a seductive masterpiece." He continues, each remark a dance of words that adds another layer to the charged atmosphereIn his studio, surrounded by the remnants of his photographic pursuits, Jeonghan's remarks don't cease. He positions his camera at a distance on the tripod, capturing the two of you against a rich, simple pearly beige background. Jeonghan's scent wraps around your senses, leaving you without control over your escalating feelings.

Standing behind you, he wraps his arms around your body, creating an embrace that feels like a hypnotic spell. It's more than a mere hug; he decides to unravel layers, unbuttoning your cardigan to expose the glistening skin of your collarbones and shoulders. Soft, sloppy kisses descend from your ear to your neck, rekindling familiar sensations. Without hesitation, he nibbles on your skin, each touch tinting it with the subtle intensity of his teeth, and a soft whimper of pleasure escapes your lips, the dance of his actions rendering you momentarily lost.

The timer he had set on the camera, ticking away while you were in a delightful haze, finally clicks, capturing the perfect shot – a half-shot from the nose. His slender fingers rest on your left side, and his mouth on your right collarbone, creating an intimate composition that radiates a sense of closeness. Another timer is set, this time his arm wrapped around your shoulders, his thumb teasingly between your lips. The camera goes off once again, capturing a moment that transcends the boundaries of conventional photography.

Jeonghan, with a voice laden with appreciation, murmurs, "This, my dear, is the beauty of our connection. Every click of the camera is a testament to the warmth we share, frozen in time for eternity. You're a canvas, and we're painting a masterpiece of shared intimacy." Once again the camera goes off. The final shot was a distance shot of his deprived lips between your breasts, while he fists your hair. Again the shot comes out perfect as ever and he didn't stop.

With a jerk he lifts you up, and kisses you feverishly. Desperation dripping the dews off the fresh grass. You could almost feel his erection had he held you a bit lower. Everything about a horny, flushed, swollen lips Jeonghan drove you insane. "Yoon Jeonghan" you moan.

"You're truly an artist" he pants, "to be making such fuckable faces"

"What's stopping you from fucking me then?"

"You're right" he smirks "it's been a while I've heard you beg, and rammed myself into that cunt of yours babygirl" Against your better judgement you began imagining it. Jeonghan's large hands squeezing your thighs, peeling them apart. His mouth on your breast, biting and sucking in turn, tongue running over your hardened nipples. Nails digging into your skin, shoulders wedging between your legs. Fingers working you open just enough to fit his dick without causing you pain, careless otherwise. Life does flash beneath your vision.

"Want it?" You could only nod in response.

Jeonghan definitely isn't the most patient one. One moment your tongues dance against each other as he keeps you distracted, while he takes you upstairs, which isn't a long journey from his studio, to the next where you're already out of breath, and lay flat naked on your bed, while he tosses his clothes off. Chilly air and his lustful gaze have your nipples hardening and a shiver running down your spine. As if he can sense your thoughts, his eyes move downwards, onto your breasts before going lower. He hums, pleased. He holds up his camera, and gets another shot, and all you see is flashes. Placing the camera aside, his attention draws all to you, for you, towards you. You could read his mind through his eyes.

 You gasp as he tugs at your legs to pull you closer. His face hovers over your covered core as you feel his warm breath and it is enough to make you lose your mind. “hannie, please.” You plead.

He grins evilly, clearly enjoying this as he presses a kiss on your covered pussy. Then his mouth trails down, between your thighs where he takes his sweet time nipping the flesh, making you whine in pleasure.

pulling back just a little and thrusting back in. “Feel good?” He breathes. You almost choke on your words. "Stop being a ppm.pp.paintbrush" He laughs; movements are slow, taking way too long to mark the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. He licks and sucks at the blooming marks and stops when a wet patch forms in your panties and your moans increase their pitch. “Desperate, aren’t we?” He whispers, hands reaching for your soaked panties to peel them off. The cool air on your core makes you shudder and release another whimper. “I- I need you Jeonghan, please.”

He hums and suddenly licks a stripe from your core to your clit, eliciting a scream of surprise from you. Your hands immediately fist in his hair to pull him closer and you are scared he is going to ask you to let him go but he doesn’t, busy sucking your pussy. He devours you with no break, tongue working skillfully to tease your opening and your clit. Your pussy gushes more and more at each of his movements as you keep chanting a series of pleases.

He slides a finger inside you, slowly, as your cunt greedily takes it all in. He curls it inside you simultaneously tonguing your clit and you wail in pleasure, tears brimming in your eyes. He enters another finger and then another before moving the three of them tirelessly inside you, curling them against your sensitive spot that has your whole body shivering. That feeling paired with him torturing your clit brings you close to your orgasm.

“J-Jeonghan…I'll cum.” You breathe and much to your disappointment, he gives you one last suck before pulling away with a satisfied smirk. “Jeonghan!” You call for him, half wanting to smack him from taking your orgasm away from you. The man has the audacity to laugh. “That’s what you get for being too perfectionist. Being mine"

"I'll blow...hnmmmmmmmmyour brains" you roll your eyes, in pleasure.

His habit of pushing your buttons to your peak irritated you so much, you muster your fucked-out energy and pull him by the neck over you, and swiftly roll yourself on top of him. Your sweaty body slithers down Jeonghan's pale, beautiful body down towards his cock, and as you promised, it was Jeonghan who was so loud with his whimpers, moans all while he was helpless and feeling his senses pop out of his ears. He was melodic. He was whiny. You loved to take him all your capable of.

Oh fuck-” Jeonghan grunts, head lolling back as you feel the grip on your hair strengthen. “Fuck, that feels so good.” His praises make your pussy leak as you start bobbing your head with new vigor, one of your hands trailing down to rub yourself, the sinful sight of Jeonghan moaning making you extremely needy. That one shiver he does, is a clear sign he's dangerously close and with a pop, you move your mouth off. He opens his eyes, moving the sticky hair off his forehead to look at you.

"Hannie" your soft voice, paired with the needy, doe-eyed look you give him is enough to make Jeonghan lose his damn mind. With a growl, he captures your lips in a bruising kiss as his hands move to line up his cock to your pussy. “You asked for it.” He warns and that’s all you get before he’s pushing his entire length inside you, a high pitched shriek falling from your lips as an overwhelming feeling of fullness consumes your entire body.

He pulls you on his chest by your arms, and rams himself in you. "Ride it" he whimpers and you do not hesitate to hold his hands and bounce on him.

With a swift turn, Jeonghan turns you, pinning you below him. He increases his pace, his sharp thrusts hitting so deep inside you, your whole body shakes. Mindless babbles fall from your lips as your hands clutch into his back tightly, your nails digging into his skin which makes Jeonghan hiss in pleasure. His sweet words paired with the way his lips venture down towards your breasts, sucking and biting while one of his hands plays with your oversensitive clit make you release a loud cry of his name.

Soon after, you come for the second time, your orgasm brain numbing, making your toes curl and your whole body twitch. Jeonghan feels you tighten around him as you come and he can’t hold back either as he fills you up for the second time, calling your name softly, his warm breathes fanning your face.

“Fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna last long.” He mutters, eyes moving onto your face, the fucked out look on you making him groan, as he buries his head in your neck, painting the skin with pretty marks. He didn't even spare your lips and mercilessly nibbled onto them until they're red and swollen. He held pride in himself and at this rate, your heart was godspeed.

His soft whisper sends shivers down your spine and without thinking, you nod, holding him tightly, burying your face in his neck. Your brain has stopped functioning properly long ago and all you can feel are the way Jeonghan’s hips snap into you and the warmth radiating from him. You feel vulnerable yet safe at the same time as you hold his body close to yours and breathe in his sweaty scent.

Soon, your orgasm is brain numbing, making your toes curl and your whole body twitch. Jeonghan feels you tighten around him as you come and he can’t hold back either as he fills you up for the second time, calling your name softly, his warm breathes fanning your face.

Your ears ring and you are too tired to move a muscle as you lie there, with Jeonghan panting harshly on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight. For a while there is silence, nothing other than the harsh breathing of you both before you feel Jeonghan soften and slide out of you, making his release drip down your pussy and you wince. "No paint is of this consistency as my cum" even with zero energy, he made you laugh a little too hard, your ribs ached. The "tester sketch" had long fallen on the carpet, and the sheets were wet.

He helps you to the bathroom, carefully takes care of you and himself and back to another lazy position on the couch, because none of you had the energy to deal with the bedsheets.

"When simplicity meets seduction..." he strokes your hair, hugging your tinted body closer to his stiff chest "an artistry in shared intimacy blooms" he completes. "Those photos, are your reference for the artwork. Make better use of it, babe" "I don't see why wouldn't I" you snuggle closer "anyways simplicity and seduction won me a good sex and dirty sheets"

"That's the harmonious convergence of elements that generate a symphony"

There he goes. Good thing is you've love him endlessly.