#y'all i actually still have some.... swirling in my head

[cryptidghostgirl]

The Love (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Description: Alastor is drunk and Charlie asks him if he has ever been in love.

Warnings: I don't think there are any but correct me if I'm wrong.

Word Count: 1,323

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N Y'all, I'm lowkey dying from the requests. I'm sorry for the last five or so taking so long, I just need a little break and mix in some of my own ideas if that is okay.

Alastor was drinking at the bar with Husk, Charlie, and Angel. The day had been a lot, seeing Mimzy was always a lot. Yes she was trouble, but Alastor loved her. He loved her for the same reason he was trying to drink himself stupid at the bar. He loved her because she reminded him of Y/n. Mimzy had been her friend first, after all.

He sat off to the side in his own little world while Angel and Charlie chatted and Husk obediently poured the drinks. Normally, Husk would have joined the pair in the mindless, mundane chatter but after the events of the day, Alastor's presence kept him silent.

"No way!" Charlie exclaimed.

She and Angel were talking about some TV show they both watched or another. A mind numbingly boring background noise but, Alastor wasn't complaining.

"Yes! They are one hundred percent perfect for each other." Angel replied animatedly.

"Literally how. Name one thing that shows they have good chemistry."

"Uh, they’re constantly at each other's throats? If that's not love, I don't know what is."

"Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"You don't know what love is."

Husk let out a short, sharp laugh as he topped off Angel's drink.

"Oh yeah? Well then, Princess, what do you think love is."

Charlie sighed, leaning her elbow on the counter as a dreamy look spread across her face.

"Love is... love is when you would do anything for the person. It's when they're your guiding star, your... your prayers answered."

"Uh, no? Love is when you want to literally kill the person but like, in a good way."

"Angel, what does that even mean." Charlie laughed.

"It means... it means there is passion. That spark everyone always talks about? It's violence."

"Hey Al!" Charlie suddenly called, leaning back in her seat to peer at Alastor behind Angel's back, "Who's right, me or Angel?"

Alastor looked up from his glass.

"I hate to say it, but neither of you are correct." he sighed in irritation at having been disturbed, "Love is neither a constant fight nor a blind devotion, though it contains aspects of both."

"Like you know anything about love, mister fancy talk creepy voice." Angel scoffed, turning to face Alastor as well now.

"Actually, I do."

Charlie's face lit up. She practically vibrated with anticipation.

"Alastor! You've been in love!?"

Normally, on a night like this, he'd be alone. He'd be careful to be alone, or at least have Husk as his only company. When he told Husk to shut up and pour, he listened. Other people, not so much.

"Yes."

Charlie had stars in her eyes. She inched closer to him.

"Are you gonna spill?" Angel asked after a moment.

"It was a long time ago."

Alastor took a long sip from his glass.

"Do you... do you not remember it?" Charlie asked, her excited smile slipping slightly at the notion

Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it was the long day, Lucifer, Mimzy, Husk. Those shark demons. Maybe it was just that secretly all along, he had wanted someone to talk to. He watched the liquor in his glass as he swirled it gently.

"It was a long time ago, but I still remember it." his smile softened as he spoke, "It's strange. I remember her laughter, her little quixotic tendencies. I remember the way her eyes would light up when she smiled and the way her perfume smelled. I know her favorite author, the way she took her coffee, the way she folded her clothes but, I can't seem to ever see her face anymore. I..."

He trailed off, taking a breath.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Charlie quickly said, not wanting to make Alastor uncomfortable.

Alastor shook his head.

"I've spent years not talking about her. Maybe... maybe something else would be nice."

"So, how'd you guys meet?" Charlie immediately asked.

Alastor looked up at her and let out a light chuckle. He felt like he was human again for a moment. It was odd.

"I don't know if you know this about me, but I was a radio broadcaster back when I was alive. A rather famous one at that, in New Orleans at any rate. Her family ran a restaurant near the studio that I went to get lunch at from time to time. She worked there as a server."

"And she loved you?" Angel asked, "Like, you weren't just delusional?"

"I was quite the lady's man back in my day."

"Uh-huh." Angel doubtfully replied, "Sure."

"Oh hush, Angel." Charlie shoved the spider demon slightly, "Tell us more! What was she like? Did you ever get together or were you just friends? Gah! I wanna know everything!"

"She was..." Alastor's gaze fell back to his glass, "you remind me of her in a way. She was so idealistic, so driven. So... bubbly. She worked hard and she cared deeply. I don't know how I swung her, despite my charms. We were friends for about a year. The whole time, I was trying to work up the courage to ask her out but she ended up being the one to ask me. We got married when we were in our mid twenties. I only had a few years with her as my wife before I died."

Unbidden ideas darkened the edges of his mind. Y/n had always been so good, so sweet. Alastor had no idea if she had ever learned of his... escapades. He figured she must know, considering the manner in which he died but it was a horrifying thought. He was grateful when Charlie spoke again, pulling his mind back to the present.

"Thats so cute!" Charlie exclaimed, clapping her hands as she looked between Alastor and Angel, searching for similar excitement.

"Can we meet this alleged doll of yours?" Angel asked, "Cause I am really not believing any of this bullshit your spouting."

Charlie gasped, suddenly struck by inspiration.

"Do you think she would want to be redeemed?"

"Oh dear," Alastor shook his head, meeting Charlie's eyes, "she's not here."

"Then wh-"

"She's in heaven?" Angel exclaimed, "You married someone who ended up in heaven?"

"Either that or she's over a hundred years old and still on earth." Alastor weakly joked.

"I'm sorry."

Alastor shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.

"No!" Charlie insisted, "You'll... you'll never get to see her again! That's so sad!"

"And here I thought you were trying to get us redeemed." Angel scoffed.

Charlie turned to him.

"I'm trying to get you redeemed cause you're a guest. Alastor isn't a guest."

"Right you are, my dear."

"But you could do that." Charlie said turning back to Alastor, "Angel's right, if you were a guest you could be redeemed. You could see her again!"

Alastor smiled kindly at the excited demon. He patted her back.

"I'm afraid I don't think that's an option."

"But why not!" Charlie insisted, "Anyone can be redeemed, Alastor."

"That's not the issue, my dear." he sighed, "I did some things on earth that she would most certainly view as... unfavorable shall we say? Things she most certainly learned of after my death."

"You're not even gonna give it a shot?" Angel asked.

"Yeah, come on Alastor. Let us help you. You never know how it could turn out!"

"It's alright. I have the time we spent together, the memories. I don't want to taint that." he slowly, unconsciously, raised a hand to his chest, his palm over his heart, "The love is still there, thats what matters."

The quartet fell silent as Husk poured Alastor another drink. Alastor sighed, grabbing the glass and examining it carefully, but not taking a sip.

"What was her name?" Charlie asked, her voice small and her smile long gone.

"Y/n."

It had been years since he'd said it out loud. His tongue relished every syllable.

"Her name was Y/n."

[bro-atz]

candy

in which: you're their sweetheart who tastes sweet like candy, and they simply cannot get enough.

pair: frat bros!ateez/afab!reader

word count: 6.1k

content: smut, gang bang (more like four threesomes), nicknames (they call you sweetheart), unprotected sex (PLS REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL!), oral, anal, double penetration (x4!), creampies, filthy, completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: i actually wasn't planning a part two, but... let's just say i had a dream... tysm to @k-hotchoisan and @yungilia who both helped me w this one hehe and sorry @juyofans and @yunhoszn but y'all just got another submission for your event LMAO also I HAVE NO IDEA WHY IT'S SO LONG THIS TIME AROUND HELP

networks:

@atzhouse @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet

@newworldnet @san-network @wonderlandnet

frat bros!ateez: part one | part two

Life pretty much went back to normal after your initiation was completed. Okay, that's a big fucking lie. You still were their sweetheart, but you were also their sweetheart, which meant that you had a little more obligations that the frat bros bestowed upon you.

"Hey, Wooyoung," you greeted the boy as you stepped into the kitchen. "Cooking?"

"Yeah," Wooyoung sighed slightly dramatically. "Yeosang wanted fried chicken again, so I'm making fried chicken again."

"So then why are you making curry?"

"Because I don't want curry, sweetheart. I want curry."

You bit back a laugh, but a little puff of air left your lungs, the acknowledgement bringing a smile to Wooyoung's face. After stirring the pot a little, Wooyoung took another spoon and scooped some of the curry.

"Give it a taste," Wooyoung told you.

He brought the spoon to your lips, and after blowing on it to cool it off, you tasted it.

"It's good! But it's definitely missing something," you responded.

"What? Is it salt?"

"I... I actually don't know."

"Let me try it."

You thought Wooyoung was going to try his own spoonful, but no. Instead, he kissed you, his tongue swirling around yours to get the lingering taste of the curry. Refusing to let up, he turned the stove off and walked you away from the stove to a (surprisingly) clean countertop before pinning your waist against it, his lips locking with yours feverishly.

"You taste so sweet, sweetheart," Wooyoung exhaled blissfully after the kiss ended. "I could just eat you up..."

Without a warning, Wooyoung lifted you up and sat you down on the kitchen countertop, his head tilted up as he looked at you in anticipation. The way he looked in that moment, the pink tint of his lips, was so inviting that you ran your fingers through his hair and rooted your hands on the back of his neck as you kissed him.

"Fuck, I need you right now, sweetheart," Wooyoung mumbled against your lips.

You felt his fingers brush along your waist as he grabbed your shirt and forcefully pulled it over your head, your shirt flying out of the kitchen. His hands then moved down to your jeans, and he pulled them off within seconds before spreading your legs wide open. He took two fingers and rubbed them along your folds, your arousal collecting on his fingers.

"And it looks like you need me too," he said cheekily. "Look at how wet you are, sweetheart."

"Wooyoung, please," you were so close to begging him to shut up. "Just fuck me already."

"You won't let me savor my meal? You won't let me taste how sweet you are down here?"

He sunk down, his lips hovering over your cunt. Running your fingers through his hair, you pushed his head closer to you and said, "Dear God, just fucking do something, please."

Wooyoung only got to lick a singular stripe up your cunt when he lost all his patience. Just seeing the way your pink pussy quivered with anticipation made his dick press so hard against his pants that he almost was in actual physical pain.

"Hop off and bend over," he grunted out, his voice hitting a new level of low octave.

You quickly obeyed and waited for him to unbuckle his pants and stroke his cock a couple of times before rubbing the tip against your folds. Then, without warning, he thrust his cock into you, your waist hitting the countertop, and your entire body moving forward as his hips slammed against yours. It took everything in you to choke back a moan, and it only got more difficult for you from there when Wooyoung started lightly slapping your ass.

"Fuck, Wooyoung," you moaned in a hushed tone. "You feel so good."

"Yeah? You like that sweetheart?"

You couldn't see Wooyoung's face, but you knew for a fact he had that devilish smile on his face that made your heart flutter. Not only did your heart flutter, but your cunt did too when he spanked your ass a little harder than the time before, earning a little yelp from you.

Suddenly, you heard someone drop one of the bowls from the kitchen and turned your heads to see an uninvited guest standing awkwardly in between the living room and the kitchen.

"W— I— I just— My chicken—" Yeosang stuttered as he saw you fully and completely naked bent over on the kitchen countertop with Wooyoung's dick deep inside you, his face going bright red.

"Forget about your chicken for a second, Sangie. You should pay attention to our sweetheart," Wooyoung waved the boy over. Then, pulling out and spreading your folds to give the guy a better look of your cunt spilling cream onto the floor, Wooyoung said, "Look at how wet she is... We gotta do something about it."

Yeosang gulped nervously as he stared at your arousal covered cunt, saliva continuing to pool in his mouth at an alarming rate. He leaned down to face your cunt, his hands clutching your thighs as Wooyoung continued to egg the boy on, "You want a taste, right? Come on, you know you want to."

It was true— Yeosang desperately wanted a taste. He moved so that he was right behind you and spreading your asscheeks wide, giving him better access to your cunt before leaving the most intense kiss on your clit, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked up as much of your arousal as he possibly could. Your legs trembled completely and could barely keep you up as you leaned further into the countertop, a long but quiet moan escaping you.

"Here, sweetheart," Wooyoung leaned onto the countertop and grabbed your cheeks. "Lemme give you a taste of you as well."

With Yeosang eating you out from behind and Wooyoung practically eating your face off, you could feel the tension building in your stomach, your hormones desperately wanting some sort of release. So, you whined into Wooyoung's mouth and reached back to grip the roots of Yeosang's hair, indicating to both of them that you just wanted them inside you already.

 You and Yeosang both stood upright, the boy's hands immediately grabbing your waist and spinning you around so he could press himself against you. He pressed his forehead against yours, and you could feel his heavy panting hit your skin as he slowly started stripping down, his lips nearing yours. You wrapped your hands around the back of Yeosang's neck as you decided to cut to the chase and kiss him, the sweet taste of you lingering on your tongue as Yeosang made out with you passionately.

Wooyoung, meanwhile, was grinding his waist against yours, his cock rubbing up and down your asscrack. Not going to lie, he was a little frustrated at the way you were giving Yeosang so much of your attention that he decided to take some of it back. He quickly shoved his cock back inside you, practically pushing you further into Yeosang's arms.

"Oh, fuck, Wooyoung!" you whined as he slowly moved his hips, his cock sliding in and out of you with relative ease. "S-So good!"

Wooyoung hummed in response, his hips snapping up sharply to meet yours suddenly, making you yelp and cling closer to Yeosang. Yeosang, who had unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his pale chest and rock solid abs, was losing his mind gradually the more he felt your nipples and breasts rub against his chest, his own cock throbbing and practically ready to burst.

"Sweetheart, I don't think I can wait any longer," Yeosang whispered to you, the desperation obvious in his voice. "Can I please fuck you?"

Yeosang asking you for consent was honestly the cutest fucking thing, and you wanted to savor the moment more, but you were unable to because Wooyoung was making all sorts of raunchy noises as he thrust sharply into you, his hands holding onto your waist tightly.

"Yes, Yeosang," you responded, your breathing hitching with every thrust from Wooyoung. "Fill me up, baby."

Yeosang wasted no time. He pulled his cock out of his pants and rubbed the tip against your clit before pushing his own way into your cunt, both boys now fully inside you. What drove you even more insane was when Yeosang hooked his arm behind your knee and pulled your leg up, giving both him and Wooyoung easier access to your fluttering pussy.

"Try her ass— it's so fucking tight, and it feels amazing," Yeosang advised the guy behind you.

With a smirk and a nod, Wooyoung pulled out and pressed the tip of his cock against your asshole, the sensation already driving you insane even though all he was doing was teasing you with just the tip.

"Relax, sweetheart," Wooyoung whispered into your ear. "Otherwise it's going to hurt."

You did as Wooyoung instructed, allowing him to move his cock in and out of you with relative ease. You flung your head back and began moaning a little more loudly as the tension within you built up exponentially.

It was when Yeosang rubbed against your G-spot perfectly several times in a row did the tension snap. With one hand on Yeosang's shoulder and the other  on Wooyoung's arm, you grabbed onto them tightly as you came loudly, your moan and cries of relief echoing in the kitchen and living room.

Your walls and ass tightened up as you came, both boys wincing as they, too, nearly came upon feeling you squeezing their cocks.

"You felt that good, sweetheart?" Wooyoung asked breathlessly. "You like the two of us fucking you like this?"

"God, ye-es!" you cried. "So fucking good!"

Both boys chuckled and continued to fuck you senseless until they were forced to stop when another person interrupted the fun.

"You've gotta be shitting me— What the fuck are you two doing?!" San yelled, completely startling you to attention.

You turned your head to see through bleary, teary eyes the figures of San and Jongho, the two of them standing in identical poses with their arms crossed over their chest.

"What the fuck does it look like, dumbass?" Wooyoung retorted.

"You know Hongjoong hyung and Seonghwa hyung said to leave her alone, so why are you fucking her?" Jongho clarified.

"How can you expect us to stay away when she looks like this?" Yeosang questioned as he grabbed your face and held it up to show the other frat bros your half-lidded, glazed over eyes with beads of perspiration dotting your forehead and making your hair stick to your skin. "Our poor sweetheart needs us to fuck her brains out... Did you really think we would say no?"

Just the sight of you looking so pathetic and desperate, Yeosang's and Wooyoung's cocks getting squeezed so tightly in your holes, the two of them fondling and gripping the appealing parts of your body— San and Jongho understood.

"Sannie..." you whined, the boy's face turning red. Jongho's face matched that shade when you continued, "Jjongie..."

That did it. The two of them quickly joined the other two who were fucking you, their clothes coming off at a record speed. San gently gripped your throat and turned you to face him, his lips hungrily meeting yours while Jongho started stroking himself off by himself, only for you to reach out for his cock and start stroking him yourself.

Wooyoung was still steadily rutting into you while the newcomers got situated because after you came, he was so ready to cum since your ass squeezed him so tight. His breathing hitched, and white started to fill his vision, making him pull out of your ass and struggle but successfully slip his cock into your cunt, the two cocks in you driving you insane.

"Shit, I'm cumming," Yeosang hissed before biting his lower lip, his eyes fluttering shut.

Both cocks, both waists slammed powerfully into you at once, Yeosang groaning loudly while Wooyoung bit your shoulder. San released you from your chain of kisses with him, letting you gasp and moan as you felt both boys fill you up, their ropes of cum spurting inside you nonstop. Yeosang pulled out of you first, but Wooyoung remained inside you as he whispered, "Keep our load safe, sweetheart. Don't let a single drop spill in my kitchen."

"Yeah, wait, what're we doing fucking our sweetheart in the kitchen?" Jongho asked.

"She should be somewhere more comfortable, right sweetheart?" San cooed.

Normally, you would've slapped San silly for treating you like that, but you were so desperate for both him and Jongho to stuff you full with their thick cocks that you just let him do as he pleased. San ended up passing you on to Jongho, who quickly slid his fat cock in you, spreading your walls so open that you felt completely stuffed by his cock. Then, when he cupped the underside of your asscheeks and lifted you, you felt him even more, his cock driving deeper into you. You clung to him as he bounced you on his cock and walked you into the living room— at that point, you knew that none of the fraternity brothers were going to drop you, so you trusted them to just carry you around wherever they wanted to take you. 

Jongho sat down on the couch, making you automatically sit on his lap. He wasted no time bouncing you faster on his cock, his hands still firmly planted on your ass. You clung to his shoulders and let out little yelps and cries until San stuffed your face full with his cock.

"Quiet, sweetheart," San warned. "We don't want the hyungs finding out, do we?"

San's cock muffling your response, you settled for nodding before focusing on licking and sucking his cock while Jongho worked overtime underneath you, his hips bucking upwards every so often to give you that extra pleasureful sensation. You gripped Jongho's shoulder, your nails digging into his skin as he continued to relentlessly fuck you.

Suddenly, San pulled his cock out of your mouth, a line of saliva trailing from the tip of your tongue to the tip of his cock. San inhaled sharply, the sight of you looking up at him with your mouth open and begging for his cock driving him simply insane. The thing was that he desperately wanted to fuck you as well, so he quickly made his way around the couch so that he was standing behind you. He held your waist with one hand and positioned his cock against your cunt before pushing his way through.

The thickness from both Jongho and San was too much for your brain to comprehend. You desperately wanted to cry out loudly, but you didn't want Hongjoong or Seonghwa to realize what was going on, so you settled for flinging your head back and biting your lower lip painfully hard.

"Good girl, sweetheart," Jongho complimented you when you brought your head back and buried it in the crook of his neck. "Such a good girl staying quiet like we asked."

"Oh, fuck, Jongho," you whimpered, the compliments from him turning you on even more. "M-More..."

"You want me to keep calling you a good girl?" Jongho chuckled, his laugh making your fingers and toes tingle with excitement. "Then be a good girl and gimme a kiss."

You happily obliged, your lips locking furiously with Jongho's. His grip on your waist got tighter when you ran your fingers through his locks, your thumb brushing against his ear. And since Jongho was so busy kissing you, San took it upon himself to continue showering you with compliments.

"Look at how well your cunt is swallowing our fat cocks. You were really made for us, sweetheart. A good girl, a good fucking sweetheart," he muttered in between grunts as he thrust sporadically.

That's when San made the decision to spank your ass before grabbing it with his large, firm hand, making you nearly bite Jongho's lower lip. It was the combination of San slapping your ass and his hips moving at just the right angle that made you cum for the second time that day. Breaking your lips away from Jongho's, you let out a breathy whine into neck, making him shiver with excitement.

"Oh, fuck, sweetheart," Jongho bit out, his voice strained. "I'm cumming too!"

San pulled out and let Jongho have you to himself for several more thrusts before he came inside, the feeling of his cock twitching and throbbing inside you stimulating you further. The second Jongho pulled out, San immediately re-entered you, refusing to let a single drop of cum spill onto the couch. He turned you over— with his dick still inside, making the sensation feel incredibly new and amazing— and pinned you to the couch, his hands holding your arms above your head. He looked so deathly serious in that moment, and it made you nervous, excited, and definitely more horny.

"Sweetheart," he drawled as he pressed his body closer to yours. "I need you to do me a favor."

"Y-Yes, Sannie?"

San hummed as he started rolling his waist into you, the feeling of his cock, now without any obstructions, tapping your cervix making stars fill your vision. In an insanely low register, he continued, "I need you to keep what happened here quiet. Do you understand?"

You nodded, but that wasn't enough for him. He held both your arms down with one hand, allowing him to stick his fingers in your mouth and force you to open your jaw.

"Use your words, sweetheart. You are not to tell Hongjoong hyung or Seonghwa hyung that we fucked you, got it?"

"Yes, Sannie," you whispered.

"Good girl," San smiled at you so angelically as if he didn't just practically threaten you seconds prior, the look on his face making your heart race faster. "You're such a sweetheart."

San leaned back and let go of your arms so he could grip your waist, his hips gyrating into yours faster, a solid look of concentration befalling his face. You watched through bleary eyes as his hair covered his darkened eyes and as he licked and bit his lower lip.

It didn't take long for him to finish— he was honestly holding himself back ever since he heard your breathy whine into Jongho's neck, but he wanted you to himself for just a moment, to enjoy having the sweetheart belong to him and only him for a split second. Slamming his waist into yours so hard that your head nearly hit the arm rest, San came hard, his cockhead hitting your cervix with just enough force that you came instantly, stars completely filling your vision at that point.

You don't know how, but while you were still recovering from the high of your orgasm, San, Jongho, Yeosang, and Wooyoung had managed to get you dressed for the most part— they couldn't figure out your bra for the life of them unfortunately. When San slipped your panties on, you heard him whisper, "Don't let a single drop spill, and I'll reward you later."

"What if she does spill, though?" Wooyoung asked.

"Then we punish her," Jongho stated definitively.

"I don't know, I think she would enjoy that," Yeosang snickered.

"No, like we dump all of our chores on her," San explained. "A real punishment."

Suddenly, the five of you heard the garage door begin to open. You blinked the daze out of your eyes and did your best to regain you sanity while the other four made a mad dash for it.

"Hi, sweetheart," Hongjoong greeted you comfortably.

"Oh, hi," you squeaked out as you pressed your legs together, suddenly remembering San's warning.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Seonghwa, who followed Hongjoong shortly thereafter, sat down on the couch right next to you.

"Y-Yeah! I'm fine," you cleared your throat and scooted away from Seonghwa before he could put his arm around your shoulder as he normally did. "I just remembered I have a... A project! Yeah, I have a project to finish so I'll, um, I'll be in my room."

With that, you scurried off, and instead of going to your room like you said you would, you went to San's room to figure out how fucking long you would have to hold the cum inside you. But, before you could even grab the handle, Seonghwa grabbed your wrist. He dragged you to your bedroom and threw you on your bed, Hongjoong trailing after you two and closing the door behind him.

"Seonghwa?!" you exclaimed as he pinned your arms on either side of you. "W-What— W-Why—"

"Tell me the truth, sweetheart," Seonghwa said, his voice dangerously low. "Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?"

"What?!"

"Seonghwa, what the actual fuck?" Hongjoong piped up. "Listen, sweetheart. You gotta tell us if anything happened between you and anyone else while we were gone."

"No...?"

"Sweetheart," Hongjoong's tone turned a shade darker. "Tell me the truth."

"Yes..."

"Oh my fucking God, and after we specifically told them not to?!"

Rather than storm out of your room and yell at the boys, Hongjoong sat on the bed next to you and explained, "I guess we should've told you too... But the reason we didn't want anyone touching you— including us!— is because we value you and the work you to for us, and your initiation was one thing, but we don't want to break your heart or anything like that because we don't want to lose you."

"Also, we didn't want the college finding out," Seonghwa added.

"Yes, that too."

A mixture of embarrassment, shame, and guilt swept over your body.  "I'm sorry, Hongjoong," you apologized with a heavy sigh, your eyes downcast as you looked down at your lap. "Can I make it up to you somehow?"

There was a brief moment of silence in the room before Hongjoong leaned towards you, his nose brushing against your ear as he tucked stray hairs behind your ear.

"I think it's only fair if we get a turn as well," Hongjoong murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "Is that okay?"

"Yes, Hongjoong," you breathed out, the feeling of his hand slowly riding up your thigh arousing you. "That sounds fair."

Hongjoong smiled briefly before running his fingers through the hair on the back of your head, his lips meeting yours softly. He kissed you sweetly, pulling him into you, love and affection swirling through your head and heart as he started so gently with you— that being said, you wanted more from him than this vanilla bullshit. The two of you collapsed on the bed entangled in each others' arms, leaving Seonghwa to get started on stripping you down. The second he pulled your pants off, though, he got an eyeful.

"Is this... Is this what I think it is?" Seonghwa asked as he saw the white spill out of you.

You pressed your lips together and looked away, your face turning bright red as you wordlessly confirmed Seonghwa's assumption. Hongjoong turned your head to face him, the darkness in his eyes building as he said, "Well, we can't have that, now can we?"

With one swift motion, Hongjoong turned you around so that you were on all fours and your ass was high in the air. He spread your asscheeks and folds open to see the cum from the four boys who fucked you prior spill out of you and onto your bed, staining your sheets. The sight of your red, raw pussy and cum dripping out of it was a little too much for Hongjoong. He could barely wait at that point. He quickly pulled his cock out of his pants and lined his cock up with your cunt before sliding in easily thanks to the cum and your arousal.

"This pisses me off, not going to lie," Hongjoong admitted quietly mainly to himself. "I hate that they deliberately disobeyed me and had their way with you."

"Then have your way with me," you responded absentmindedly.

"Yeah? You sure?" Hongjoong immediately perked up.

"Yes, Joong. I want you to have your way with me," this time you truly meant what you said.

That permission was all Hongjoong needed to thrust into you with full force, your entire body lurching forward as a result. Your arms buckled under you, making you press your chest into the bed, a moan mixed with a cry leaving your lips.

"Don't tell me someone spanked you as well," Hongjoong said through gritted teeth as he noted the light pink hand mark on your ass.

"I bet it was San," Seonghwa said confidently as he knelt on the bed before you, his pretty cock pressing against your cheek. "Right, sweetheart?"

You let out a little noise indicating to them that they were right, an annoyed sigh leaving Hongjoong's soul. Grabbing your ass harshly, he said, "Let's replace his mark then."

You yelped when Hongjoong's palm made quick contact with your ass, the stinging feeling slowly melting into pleasure as he continued to rut into you at a gradual pace. Seonghwa, meanwhile, grabbed you by your cheeks and guided you upwards, his cock tapping your squished cheeks.

"Won't you suck this for me, sweetheart?" Seonghwa asked you nicely, a stark comparison to what the other frat bro behind you was doing.

You enthusiastically took him into your mouth, a long exhale leaving him as he felt you bottom out. He pet your hair and mouthed good girl to you, making your entire body tingle with excitement. His hand on the back of your head, he kept you in place as he moved his hips slowly, his pace uneven compared to Hongjoong's, who was speeding up exponentially.

After leaving another quick, tight slap on your red ass, Hongjoong reached over and grabbed your arms, pulling them back so your wrists were crossed behind your back, Hongjoong's hands keeping you in place. Your back arched in a different way than it was arched earlier, sending waves of pleasure through Hongjoong's body.

"You feel so fucking good, sweetheart," he grunted. "I'm gonna cum inside."

As Hongjoong's thrusts got more aggressive, Seonghwa's demeanor changed. He went from being angelic to a total devil when he firmed his grip on your head and started moving you at a faster pace, his cock reaching the back of your throat and making you gag occasionally.

When he thrust into you powerfully one final time, Hongjoong ended up shoving you so far into Seonghwa that his cock hit the back of your throat hard, making you gag loudly. Seonghwa let you breathe as Hongjoong's cum filled you up, and when he pulled out, all the cum seeped out of you at an uncontrollable rate. Hongjoong got off the bed and took a step back to appreciate how fucked out you looked while Seonghwa fully got on the bed, his cock raring and ready to go. That's when someone knocked on the door.

"Hey, sweetheart, is what San saying t— oh my God?!" Mingi shrieked as he saw the vulgar position you were in.

Normally, you would be embarrassed, but you were so far gone in your horniness at that point that you just wanted anyone and everyone to fill you up and fuck you like a fucking slut.

"Hey, what the fuck?" Yunho frowned at the two older frat bros in the room. "You're the ones that told us that our sweetheart was off limits, so why does everyone get to fuck her but us?!"

"Well, I don't see why you can't now," Hongjoong said with a sigh.

"Sweetheart, would it be okay if Yunho and Mingi joined us?" Seonghwa asked you.

Your eyes half-lidded and full of desperation, you nodded and beckoned the two tall boys to come and abuse you.

Yunho and Mingi did not need to be told twice. They quickly stripped themselves down and hopped on the bed, Mingi beating Yunho to your lips. Mingi wrapped his fingers around your neck and guided you to kneel in front of him, his fingers squeezing lightly, giving you the right amount of pressure for immense pleasure. Yunho, meanwhile, barely started fingering you before the knot that was slowly building inside you quickly snapped, his fingers curling and grazing your G-spot perfectly. You cried loudly into Mingi's mouth and practically flung yourself onto him as you squirted all over your bed.

The sight of your arousal and five boys' mixed cum dripping down your leg was too much for Yunho. He practically tore you away from Mingi and brought him to you, your ass facing him as you went back down on all fours. You muffled a moan as you felt Yunho slip one of his slender fingers into your asshole, the finger gliding in a little too easily, and it was still too easy when he slipped in another finger.

"I heard Wooyoung loosened you up a bit earlier, huh? Well, that's helpful," Yunho chuckled delightedly. "This still may hurt a little bit, though, so relax, sweetheart."

Yunho didn't lie. It fucking hurt when he slowly shoved his cock inside you, but the second he bottomed out, that pain turned to pleasure, the throbbing of his cock inside your tight ass turning you on even more. He stayed stationary for a bit, allowing you to get used to his immense sized shoved all the way inside you.

The other two, however, were also eager to fuck you, and they didn't want to wait any longer either. Seonghwa slid into the space under you, the tip of his cock rubbing against your clit and making your legs wobble while Mingi knelt before you the same way Seonghwa had earlier, his huge, throbbing cock intimidating the shit out of you.

"Come on, sweetheart," Mingi said, his low voice sending shivers down your spine. "Lemme feel that pretty little mouth of yours."

Mingi practically shoved his cock down your mouth, your mouth opening so wide that you felt the corners of your mouth crack. You immediately hollowed out your cheeks, making him sharply inhale and groan in pleasure. He couldn't even find the words to tell you how fucking good he felt, but you could tell he was on cloud nine when you looked up at him and saw him gnawing on his bottom lip.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you can't look at me like that," he groaned. "I don't wanna cum just yet."

You continued to tease him by batting your eyelashes and took him out of your mouth, a long, thick trail of saliva connecting the two of you. He broke the trail when he slapped his cock against your cheeks lightly, a teasing smile on his face as you looked up at him and giggle, only for the smile on your face to be knocked off when Seonghwa caught you off guard and thrust into you, Yunho doing more damage by moving slowly.

"Don't just give Mingi all of your attention, sweetheart," Yunho lectured you. "Hyung and I are still here."

Yunho started moving inside you, his cock making you feel like he was going to pull your insides out. Seonghwa, meanwhile, decided to stagger his thrusts so that he was going in while Yunho pulled out, the level of stimulation going right to your head. You could barely keep focus even when Mingi pulled your head back towards him, his cock yearning to be inside you again.

Below you, you could hear Seonghwa's little whimpers and whines as he fucked you slowly, the sounds of desperation making your cunt, and coincidentally asshole, unconsciously clench, both Yunho and Seonghwa letting out some sort of erotic groan. Yunho, squeezing his eyes shut, did his best to hold off on his orgasm, but Seonghwa lost it at that point. Sliding his hands over your ass, he grabbed your asscheeks and pulled you down as he thrust upwards, a loud exhale leaving his lungs as he emptied his load inside you.

Respect for the eldest frat bro flew out the window the second Mingi and Yunho both realized he had cum. Yunho pulled out quickly— the sheer force nearly making you cum— allowing Mingi to lift you off Seonghwa. He laid down on the bed and effortlessly laid you down on top of him, your back pressing against his chest. Yunho then appeared above you, his soft, deceptive smile letting relief wash over you for a millisecond before you saw his monster cock rest on your stomach.

"I don't know why you look so scared, sweetheart," Yunho chuckled. "You fit both me and Mingi in you before. You can do it again."

He lowered himself to you and kissed you sweetly— so fucking misleading considering what he was about to do to you— while slowly rubbing the length of his cock against your clit. Mingi, taking advantage of Yunho's slow pace, slipped his cock inside you, your head pressing back into the nook of Mingi's neck as you cried out loudly. You could hear Mingi's low chuckle right next to your ear as he hooked his hands under your legs, pulling them up so that your knees were pressing right into your breasts.

Yunho decided to slip his own cock in without warning, making you scream yet again. This time, you weren't able to fling your head back because Yunho grabbed the roots of your hair and held your head up, forcing you to look at him, your body curling towards him.

"That's my good girl," he praised you, the praise washing pleasure through your body once more.

You smiled and bit your lower lip, a shy little giggle leaving you as you looked at Yunho fondly. That giggle in and of itself was enough to make both him and Mingi cum, but they refused to let up just yet. Still holding onto the back of your head but a little more lightly, Yunho hugged your leg to his chest and started rolling his hips into yours, his breathing getting shallower and higher in pitch the longer he thrust into you.

Below you, you could hear profanities pour out of Mingi's mouth in a hushed tone, his grunts slowly turning into tiny whimpers as his hips bucked into yours at varying paces. His hold on you got weaker as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, the boy unable to hold back any longer. Yunho pulled out, allowing Mingi to hug you properly and thrust at a wild speed, stars filling your vision as his massive cock kept hitting your cervix repeatedly. However, Mingi came right at you were hitting your peak, disappointing you slightly when you felt his ropes of cum fill you up.

Since you were so close and desperate, your brought your hand to your clit and were about to rub yourself, when Yunho pulled you off Mingi and laid you down on the bed next to him, his hand pulling your leg over his so he could fill you up with his cock once again.

"You feel good, sweetheart?" he asked you, his voice hoarse. "You wanna cum?"

"Yes— Mmm— I do," you responded weakly.

"Alright, sweetheart. I'll make you cum."

Flipping you around so that you were no longer facing him, Yunho pulled your leg back to open you up again and re-entered you before snaking his hand around your waist, his delicate fingers brushing against your clit before rubbing fast, vigorous circles over it. His thrusts got more powerful and sharper, and he rubbed your clit just right at the same moment his cock hit your cervix, making you cum. Yunho, however, was still inside you, so you were squirting with every thrust, the fluttering of your cunt too much for him to handle. He slammed his waist against yours, his cock spasming inside you briefly before he pulled out, letting you squirt all over the two of you and the bed before re-entering you and completely finishing inside you.

You remained on the bed in a puddle of pleasure and cum as the two tall boys got up and off the bed. The left your room, only to return moments later with water, towels, and new sheets for your bed. The other six frat boys decided to help out until you were revived (for the most part).

"Alright, let's clear out and let her sleep," Hongjoong tried to usher the other members out of the room.

"Hey, no way! You're totally doing this so you can stay back and cuddle with her!" Wooyoung realized before he took a single step.

"That's not true!"

"Then why are your ears turning red?" Seonghwa accused Hongjoong.

"That wasn't— I didn't—"

"Guys, let's settle this a different way since clearly all of us want to be with her tonight," Yunho interjected. "Sweetheart?"

You looked up at the eight boys, your eyes still hazy, your mind still dazed.

"Who do you want to sleep with tonight?"

tags:

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[blkkizzat]

ღ 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞!𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 ღ

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟐

18+ONLY MDNI

kizzatober series: Smooth Criminals

Kinktober Prompts: Clothed Male/Naked Female, Thigh Riding, Knife Play Synopsis: The university campus is being terrorized by a copycat Ghostface killer. As a popular sorority girl with a dumb jock bf, you are a prime choice to be his next victim especially given how he can't stop thinking about you. But you're no ordinary Sorority Girl bimbo, now are you? CW: AU college fic. blood obsession/hematolagnia, bimbo reader, murder, slight DV (from your npc jerk ass bf), unprotected sex, masturbation, slight age gap (roughly 21 vs 28) and dark content. NOTE: If death/killer romanticization related shit triggers you this is probably a fic to avoid because that is happening all through this bitch. I literally wrote a murder fluff smut fic lmfao. WC: 6.5k of 15.4k Lightly black fem coded (reader is an AKA lmfao) but no descriptors.

A/N: This is my first kinktober fic! I'm sorry this took so long y'all but last week been low key hell and I was sick for a lot of it. Also I did struggle with this a bit since this one I decided to do as an whole fic instead of PWP and now its gotten to be so long its definitely going to be in two parts. Sorry there's no smut in the first part, but there is some fluff and some juicy build up. I've never written for Choso before but he's so baby girl omg I'm obsessed with him now but still I'm a bit nervous posting this. sorry if its dog.

Enjoy!

“Ever felt a knife rip through human flesh and scrape the bone beneath?”

Those were the last words a nameless student heard before Ghostface's hunting knife shined menacingly in the air and came down to claim its newest victim.

Shluk! Shluk! Shluk!

Metal slashed through flesh with razor precision.

Gurgled death cries are silenced as the lifeless body collapses to the ground. 

A thick pool of blood began gathering around them to fan out and travel around their body down the slanted titled floor to drain. 

Choso breathed in deeply. 

A wave of calm washed over him. 

Peace. 

Almost in an enlightened state, he felt the most serene after a kill. 

It was beautiful. 

Blood was beautiful.

The surging stream of blood that would eventually slow to a trickle, the abstract designs of its splatter and the way it swirled around the body splayed across the ground like paint on a canvas.

Like a painting. 

A death painting… and the knife, his paintbrush. 

This was his art.

Choso can recall the first time he actually saw blood beyond a minor scrape. 

He couldn’t have been more than 6 years old. No doubt trying to impress his younger brother Yuji by balancing on top of the monkey bars. After all this time Choso isn’t certain as to how, but he lost his footing and fell flat on his face onto the unforgiving concrete below.

Screams of children filled the area once Choso pushed himself up onto his feet. He immediately felt wetness rush down his face. However, rather than cry or panic a young Choso cocked his head curiously when he noticed his reflection on the metal jungle gym. A warped view of his face mirrored back at him but he could still make out the bright red fluid cascading down his features staining him in red. 

Choso didn’t know how long he stood transfixed, mesmerized by the sight of rouge river that flowed from him until Yuji ran back crying with their parents in tow. 

It was how he had the scar across the bridge of his nose till this day, which became unsightly enough he had decided to get a black bar tattooed over it as soon as he turned 18. 

From then on he couldn’t deny his growing obsession with blood and seeing it leave the human body. All of which had led him here to this university to attain a PHD in Forensics. 

He picked this university, not only for their program but it was the perfect small town playground for Ghostface, a local urban legend from years ago he decided to revive once he felt as he had attained enough knowledge not to get caught.  

Choso was meticulous in his process. 

Ironclad alibis, no distinctive patterns and no victims with any connections to each other, nor him. Additionally, he had memorized all the angles of the university’s security system (thanks to a security guard he had bribed then promptly killed). 

His victims' lives were just his means to an end for his art and most students on this campus wouldn’t amount to much anyway outside of that was how he justified it. Choso did like toying with them on occasion though, fear made the blood pump faster and spray harder once he finally did catch them. 

Sadly, he could never admire his creations for too long though before needing to make his own exit. 

Almost midnight. 

Ten more minutes before campus security makes another round.

He took one last glance at the scene of carnage he had created before disappearing into the night. 

☠

In just a mere 2 hours, the news of another Ghostface murder spread across campus. 

The university’s students were either scared, scattering back to barricade themselves in their dorms. Or curious, lingering around the crime scene near the safety of the news crews and reporters who had gathered to see who the unlucky victim was this time.

No one however, is likely more curious than you: A third year forensics undergrad, who was just itching to get a real glimpse of your first real crime scene, a Ghostface copycat killer crime scene at that! 

You had even left a huge frat party (to be fair it was about to get broken up soon anyway) to trek across campus in the bitter cold of late fall. 

“Y/N, let’s go back–,” one of your pledges whined, “–it’s cold and my feet hurt in these heels!”

“Shh, Stassi, shut up! What if this is an initiation test?” another pledge whispered. 

Your sorority pledges chatter on behind you and you almost forgot you brought them along. It’s not like you wanted to but, like it or not, they were attached to you at the hip like little ducklings until rush was over.

With a clap you turn on your heel to address them.

“Ladies–” 

However you abruptly stop once you see your Forensics TA, Choso Kamo, taking what appeared to be a night jog across the campus quad. 

Was he going to the crime scene too? Your face instantly lights up and your pledges look around confused.

“Wait here girlies! I’ll be 5 minutes max…. No, I mean it. Wait right here!”    

Your pledges huff quietly, but agree. 

They had no choice really as you were already skipping as fast as your not-so-sober legs would carry you in 5-inch pumps over the quad lawn. Truthfully, that was not something they were trying to do too, especially not to chase down what looked like some creepy emo nerd.

“Choso!”

You call out to him and wave, but he doesn’t look like he sees you as you hurry towards him.

“Hey Choooo! Wait up!”  You puffed out, trying to maneuver over the grass in your heels. 

Choso sighed recognizing your voice, reluctantly slowing his pace. He would have kept on jogging but he knew you would keep calling out to him and draw even more attention that he really didn’t need right now.

Finally catching up to him, you grab Choso’s arm and loop yours through. He flinched slightly at your touch but you knew he always seemed a bit jumpy when it came to physical contact, so this didn’t phase you. 

If anything you thought his reactions were kinda cute.

“Where are you going weirdo? All the action is back that way!” You teased with a big grin and pointed in the direction of the crime scene.

Choso tries to ignore how his adrenaline was pumping even faster from you holding on to him than when he was running, especially dressed as you were. 

You looked sexy as hell utterly ridiculous.

You were decked out in a sailor costume, which was pretty much just a poor excuse for lingerie at this point. Your white sailor flap collar attached to nothing more than a sparkly navy bra with shiney white and red trims, leaving your midsection exposed showing your cute little belly ring in the shape of an anchor. 

This was complemented by a dangerously short yet matching sparkling navy pleated skirt which sat low on your thick hips. Your shapely legs were the most covered part of your body yet still looked overwhelmingly tempting in red glittery garters, attached to white opaque stockings in glittery red heels.

“I’m the weirdo… but you’re dressed like that in 40 degree weather.” Choso retorted, brow raised.

“Duh Choso–” 

You released his arm to give him a twirl in your outfit, not noticing the way he nervously wet his lips watching your skirt rise with your little spin.

“–The ‘Get Nauti’ party was tonight silly, where have you been!?”

Oh you know, just casually killing someone. Choso resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

Of course he knew about the party. 

The campus had been littered with fliers for ‘Get Nauti’ for the past two weeks. Nothing Choso would ever be interested in as he would rather stab himself in the face than attend a mind-numbing party with a bunch of bro-for-brain frat guys. 

However, he did take advantage of the opportunity to create another death painting as Ghostface with the rest of campus preoccupied. 

He couldn’t tell you that though obviously.

“Gym,” Choso said flatly and shrugged, “Heading back to the dorms n-”

“–You mean you aren't going to the Social Sciences building!? Don’t you remember?!” You cut him off in your excitement. 

“The police said they would let us forensic students look at the next crime scene!”

Your face had a warm glow and your movements slightly swayed. You were clearly drunk.

“No Y/N, they said they might let the PhD students, like me, look at the crime scene… and that was only a slim ‘maybe’. You’re still just an undergrad”, he reminded you, much to your dismay as you puffed your cheeks.

But seriously, Choso thought, even the incompetent local police would have enough sense not to let you on the crime scene dressed as you are now, even if you were a PhD student. 

“Awe no fair,” you whine dejectedly. “But you should go, Cho! Then you can tell me all about it! Pleaseeee, I’m dying to know what a Ghostface crime scene looks like. I hear it’s kinda gruesome!”

You gazed up at Choso through fluttering long lashes as you poked out your cherry glossed lips. It was a pout that could famously leave any frat boy at your mercy, but it never seemed to stir Choso much (that you could tell at least).

Choso swallowed. 

On the contrary, your charms worked rather well on him. His mouth was dry and he unconsciously clenched and unclenched a sweat ridden palm behind his back. 

The hell were you doing being this excited over a crime scene? One of his crime scenes for that matter? 

Choso really didn’t know what to make of that.

“Y/N it’s late. I still have papers to grade. I’m going back to my dorm now and you should get home too,” Choso said flatly, trying to keep his cool although fatigue was etched into his voice.

He was in peak physical form but still feeling the strain given he just chased his last victim all over the Social Sciences building. Not to mention still having assignments to grade. All which would be fine if he also wasn’t on edge from you right now as well.

“Booooo…Choso yo– ahchoo!” You sneezed from the cold. 

The effects of alcohol could only do so much to keep you warm in these low temperatures while you were standing still. 

With another sigh Choso unzipped his black track jacket, taking it off and putting it around your shoulders. 

He was doing so as much for your sake as his own. Choso couldn’t help but notice your boobs looking like they were going to pop out of your flimsy sailor bra at any moment when you folded your arms underneath them for warmth.

He was really doing his best to maintain eye contact with you.

“Awe thanks Cho, you’re so chivalrous!” You giggled, blushing as you snuggled into his jacket. 

You could still feel his body heat lingering on the material but the heady scent of oak and sandwood from his cologne warmed you even more.

You also couldn’t help but stare as the black compression turtleneck he wore underneath clung to his body like a second skin. You had suspicions he was fit but you never saw him wear anything beyond his dark colored button ups and shaggy sweaters when in class. 

“Now go home, Y/N. You shouldn’t even be out here alone this late.” 

Choso’s stern voice snapped you out of your ogling.

“But I’m not alone silly!” 

You pointed to the group of scared and shivering freshmen girls also in various states of sparkly undress all for the sake of ‘getting nauti’ standing on a paved path not too far off. 

They looked absolutely miserable. 

“I have my pledges!” 

Choso gave you an incredulous look. You were too clueless. 

“So let me get this straight… You are drunk. You have drunk freshmen with you, who shouldn’t even be drinking in the first place…and you plan on taking them to a murder scene? Where the cops are?” You made an “OH” face and absentmindedly laughed as you came to the realization it probably wasn’t the best look for Chapter VP of the AKAs to take a bunch of drunk and terrified freshmen pledges straight into a recent crime scene. Even if you could put an academic spin on it as it was relevant to your major classes.

Yikes, and on second thought, your house mom would flip her entire shit if she found out.

“Go home Y/N,” Choso said again, shaking his head.

“Besides, you should be more focused on the Chemistry lab midterm on Monday. You know you can’t afford to fail.”

You sulked but relented, he was right. On both accounts.

As your T.A. for that class Choso knew better than anyone just how much your grade depended on passing that lab and you hadn’t even so much as glanced at your notes yet this week.

“Aye Aye, Capitan Choso, sir!” you teased giving him a salute with a wink and lifted knee, your sailor skirt lifting a bit higher.

It was a cute move, or it would have been at least if it hadn't caused your weight to shift all on to one foot. The heel of the sparkly red glitter pump baring your weight sunk into the patch of soft soil beneath you causing your foot to pop out of the shoe as you tumble forward. 

You would have definitely ate shit and embarrassed yourself in front of Choso, your pledges and whoever else was walking across the quad at this time of night if Choso’s quick reflexes didn’t catch you. 

You let out a squeak and waved your arms as you fell tits first onto Choso’s hard chest. 

Shit. 

Choso could feel your hardened nipples pressing against him through the flimsyass costume you wore. He tried hard to focus on how cold it was outside. Anything rather than how warm your body felt up against him or how his biceps tensed from the tight grip of your delicate fingers that sought stability from him.

You grinned sheepishly. You thanked him for catching you not realizing the position you were in nor the torment you were putting this man through.

Setting you upright quickly, Choso crouched down to retrieve your shoe. 

His plan was to simply place it near your foot but he felt your hand land on his shoulder and you raised your dainty foot up expectantly.

Any attempts to avert his gaze proved futile as Choso couldn’t stop his eyes from traveling up the length of your leg. 

Your opaque white stockings practically glowed in the darkness illuminating the shapely calves it covered and thick thighs the tight material cut into. Your hips strained against your garters up until your –he caught himself and his eyes snapped up immediately.

He was a killer, not a perv at least he was trying not to be.

Gingerly making sure to only touch your ankle, you were giggling again as he put your shoe on your foot and placed it on the grass again.

“Thanks Choso! You really are a lifesaver, ya know! I can’t bend down in this skirt.”

“Don’t mention it.” Choso quickly replied, pushing his bangs out of his face in exasperation. 

Really don’t. 

Choso was trying to forget the flash of red lace he saw that barely covered your plump pu– No he had to stop, you were technically his student even if he was just a T.A.

He would surely have to kill you if he popped a boner right now. He was trying to keep a low profile already and did not need to add ‘sexual deviant' to his name from a student harassment claim.

“For real now, go home Y/N.” Choso silently pleaded you would just listen this time. 

He always felt more compulsive right after a kill and didn’t know what he would do if you stayed around him like this much longer.

You finally relented to his relief, nodding and mumbling a sad little goodnight pulling his jacket around your shoulders tighter as you turned to leave back to your pledges. 

Choso started to leave as well but your voice stopped him as you looked at him over your shoulder.

“You know Choso…” You smoothed your skirt down behind you and flashed him a pageant winning smile, “I don’t mind that you saw them.”

Before Choso’s short-circuiting brain could even process what you said you were bouncing off back to your pledges. “Okay ladies, now make like Bey and get in formation! Back to the Soro house!” 

Your pledges erupted with various replies from– 

‘Thank God!’’ 

‘Did you just go over there to steal that nerd’s jacket? Boss!’’

‘Was that your boyfriend, Y/N?’

‘Y/N’s bf is a starter on the football team, she doesn’t want that weird emo dork.’

‘No, sis did you see his muscles– That emo look is still kinda hot right now, huh Y/N?’ 

‘Awe, but I want to go back to the frat!’ 

–all fluttered from the group of chattering girls as you cheerily led them back to the Sorority house. 

You laughed at their comments hoping Choso couldn’t hear them though, as they were a bit embarrassing. 

Unfortunately for the both of you, there was no way for Choso not to hear your rowdy group of drunk giggling girls, he’s sure the whole quad did. 

Choso rolled his eyes as a chill took over him as he started the jog back to his dorms. 

He was glad he had given you his jacket though. The way his body had started to respond to you just now the frigid jog back to the dorms would do him good. 

He just wanted to shower, grade a few papers then go to bed, he didn’t want to end up fisting his cock to you again tonight. 

You had plagued his peace for too long. It wouldn’t do him any good to think of you, it’s not like he could ever have you. 

Sure you went to the same university but you might as well have been from two different worlds. 

You were a popular sorority undergrad with the attention of virtually the entire male population on campus. 

Choso was a PhD student who was used to fading in the background, most avoided him due his looks and academic focus anyway. 

He only had an affiliation with you because his scholarships were tied to being a T.A. for undergrad forensics classes. 

Also you did have a boyfriend. 

An asshole neanderthal football-wide-receiver boyfriend who he would have been tempted to kill already had he not served his own purpose as a reality check and barrier for Choso.

Oh and had an eccentric obsession with blood going for him and was also the Ghostface copycat killer, that too. 

He was sure that would go over well with you, Choso mused sarcastically.

☠

Upon returning to his dorm Choso took a shower, graded papers and tried to fall asleep but inevitably jerked his cock off to you.

Twice. 

The sounds and images of your ditzy little laugh and skippy little panties consumed him as soon as he closed his eyes. The phantom feeling of the way your nipples felt pressed against his chest and how you clung to him desperately had him feeling near insatiable. 

Choso admittedly thinks of killing you often. Just to get some peace of mind.

It wouldn’t be difficult at all to pull off. It’s not like you could put up much of a fight against him.

He didn’t want to break his rule of killing anyone with a connection to him but Choso had also never had anyone stir him the way you did. 

You were a distraction and liability to him. If he killed you he could finally stop thinking about you…right?

You would make a beautiful death painting too.

Choso imagines thick red blood splattered across your curves. 

The fatal gash from the femoral artery in your thigh oozing out a continuous stream of blood. The cut would have to be considerably deep too considering how meaty your thighs were. 

Would the blood streak down your long leg as you desperately tried to hobble away from him in your slutty red heels?

Or would you collapse in fear and surrender to him fully? Landing in such a way that allowed the blood to redirect backwards and soil the flimsy red panties poorly concealing the fat of your cunt as you cried out in fear.

Fuck. 

He was hard again. 

He reached over to his night stand for his lotion bottle– practically empty thanks to his nonstop fantasies of you.

God, he was pathetic.

☠

The school week that followed was relatively uneventful. 

You passed your lab midterms much to Choso’s surprise. Although you always seemed to pass with a relatively decent grade despite how you struggled to get there. Holding firm to your B average in the class and 3.3 GPA in your major overall.

He had to admit you were a better student than he originally gave you credit for. It makes him recall when he first saw you last spring. 

You were a late enroll to Forensic Biology 101. Not only that, you burst into the third class of the semester nearly 15 minutes late.

Oblivious to all the eyes your disruption earned, you leaned on your knees as your chest heaved from exertion giving the entire class an amazing view of your tits spilling from your pink crop top adorned with the prestigious “AKA” sorority. 

You definitely would have given the class an additional show from bending over in your tight green jean skirt had your ass not been facing the door. Choso eyes couldn't help but travel down the length of your legs, your glossy white painted toes peeking out strappy pink pumps. 

You smiled brightly once you caught your breath and apologized for your late entrance but you were newly voted chapter vice president and had just come from your first meeting. 

Surely you had the wrong classroom.

“Er– this class is Forensic Biology 101 young lady.” The older male professor had given you a once over also thinking you must be lost.

“Mhm, yup! I’m Y/N! I just changed my major!” you beamed and handed the professor your schedule.

He looked at it and back at you twice.

“Hm, well so it is…but you are already behind, little lady. Go and take a seat next to the T.A. in the back, Choso Kamo, he will catch you up.”

Just his luck. Choso didn’t want to babysit some sorority bimbo who would probably drop this class in two weeks once the labs started. 

Your university was famous for the forensics program. If you graduated you were all but guaranteed a job at a prominent lab in a major city but more than two thirds of undergrad students dropped it once the rigorous labs began. 

You didn’t look like you would last.

Especially when you told him your interest in forensics came from watching Dexter. You told him how you thought the actor was hott and how his kill rooms were ‘so cool.’ Choso definitely rolled his eyes at that and wrote you off as a soon-to-be drop out.

You proved him wrong though. 

You were a bit of a ditz and a huge clutz but Choso came to understand t's more because you had about a billion different things going on in your head at once rather than you just being dumb or careless. 

You were also a hard worker. 

It was admirable how many activities you were involved in yet still tried as hard as you did in your classes. You always came to his T.A. review sessions and even sought him out at times while he was in the research library to ask him questions. 

You were a good student and he was a horrible T.A. for even thinking of you in this way. 

The campus bell tower struck noon in the distance and Choso looked down to see that he had only read a single paragraph since he sat down to study thirty minutes ago.

Fuck, he had lost himself in thinking about you again. 

Choso put a hand over his face. 

He was sitting alone at a picnic table on the outer, less populated edges of the quad trying to read a textbook but every time he heard a high pitched giggle he snapped his head up thinking it was you.

Class schedules were a bit different due to midterms and he hadn’t seen you the entire week other than to administer the lab but that didn’t mean you didn’t still plague his thoughts more increasingly as of late.

It was making Choso a bit reckless. 

Needing to relieve stress he had created 2 more death paintings. A mistake as it was rumored the local police would soon reach out to bigger towns for more help and perhaps even the FBI would send an agent soon to campus if this kept up. 

He had to move more carefully. 

Maybe make it look like there were multiple Ghostface killers for starters.

“3 Victims, One Week: The Copycat Ghostface Reign of Terror Continues!” 

You read aloud adding a bit of dramatic flair to your voice as you recite the front headline of the campus paper and jar Choso from his thoughts of you. 

Speak of the devil.

You approached Choso at his table and he immediately noticed you were wearing his jacket again, well more like swimming in it as it was clearly too big for you.

This time though you were bundled up in a scarf, leggings and heeled booties. He was glad his face was already a bit red from sitting out in the cold because he couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts from forming that you looked even sexier cozied up and comfortable in his jacket than in the slutty sailor costume.

“I don’t know why you even bother reading that shit Y/N. They never have any interesting details anyway.” Choso tried to feign disinterest in your arrival but his leg was already slightly bouncing under the table, nervous energy returning.

“Well I have to! You wouldn’t go to the crime scene for me last Saturday, remember?”

How could he forget?  

However a part of him did want you to view it though, his masterpieces, his kills. 

See how glorious their blood looked sprayed on the walls, the ground, and the general surroundings of his victims. 

But he knew you’d never appreciate them the way he did even if you were a forensics student.

“Oh and sorry!” 

You interrupted his thoughts once again.

“I meant to give you back your jacket, I’ve been carrying it with me hoping I’d run into you but I ran out today and forgot mine…whoops! I hope you don’t mind me wearing yours a bit longer?”

Your saccharine smile has Choso sucking in a hard breath. 

At this point he would prefer you to just keep it, he couldn’t trust himself if he had it back with your scent all over it knowing you had been carrying it around all week.

He would never know any peace.

“Keep it as long as you need.”

“Kay!”

You smile at him as you haphazardly plop your overstuffed tote bag down next to him, which of course spilled all its colorful contents all over the table. 

“Oh Crap!” 

You lean over to reach for your bag but almost spill the tray of hot coffees in your hand.

“Y/N, Watch out!” 

Choso grabbed the tray before it could spill all over his and your belongings and sat it down on the table with a small exhale.

“Oh! Thank you!” You flash him a big grin. “I got this one for you!” 

You handed him a grande cup with ‘pumpkin spice dirty chai’ scribbled on it.

Choso preferred his coffee black and he has definitely told you that before but you always just brought him whatever sugary drink you ordered saying he needed to ‘try new things’. 

He wasn’t about to turn you down though, caffeine was caffeine and as a PhD student he needed all he could get. Choso also knew it was your way of thanking him for helping you so much in forensics.  

“Thanks...” Choso mumbled taking a sip. Shit this is actually good.

You sat down next to him, a little too close for comfort with your spandex clad thigh brushing up against his leg.

“Whatcha reading? Is it for your thesis?” You were perilously close leaning on him as you looked over his broad shoulder onto his textbook.

“Yeah, some forensics texts I need to review for citations. This section focuses on serology and bloodstain pattern analysis,” Choso stated knowledgably. 

“Oh! Like in Dexter!” 

“Yeah, Y/N, like in Dexter.” 

Maybe Choso is growing a bit soft as he can’t resist but to crack a small smile at your kid-like-enthusiasm for the subject, you were incorrigible. 

Choso also doesn’t miss the way your eyes sparkle when you ask him to tell you more about his research. 

And so he does.

Sometimes Choso forgets how easy you are to talk on the subject. To be frank no one outside his own PHD program ever asks him about his thesis so before he realizes it he’s letting his guard down to indulge you.

You both get so lost in the conversation to the point it hasn’t even phased Choso yet that you are now actually leaning on him. 

Your soft cheek rests near his shoulder and your body angles deeper into his as you point to ask him about a passage on the page which he begins to break down.  

You try to focus on his words but in the midst of Choso’s explanation your eyes stray from the text up to his face. 

You feel your body start to warm.You always thought he was attractive. His dark looks never deterred you if anything they were refreshing from the crew cut preppy jocks around you. Even more so with his piercings in.

Choso never wore any of his piercings during classes or while in the research library. You counted six facial piercings in total from the three on his brows to the septum, labret and finally the black bar piercing through his tongue that darted out exposed with the movements of his mouth. 

Studying him further you discover for the first time his tattoo across the bridge of his nose was actually covering a scar. It looked old but like it had been deep. 

You couldn’t help but wonder if it had hurt him and why he chose to cover it. 

You didn’t even realize you had reached out to touch it until you felt his gaze snap to you. 

Stunned and a bit embarrassed, you withdraw your hand.

“Ah, sorry I just noticed your tattoo was covering a scar…” you trailed off hoping he wouldn’t be annoyed with you.

Annoyance was the last thing on Choso’s mind as finally registered how you had melded yourself into his side body. 

Although his usual reaction would be to withdraw back, you might as well have him chained down to the table now as he was practically immobilized by you not even being able to look away. 

“Uh, yeah it happened years ago when I was a kid...I fell off the monkey bars, there was a lot of blood.” 

No one had even recognized it since Choso had it covered years ago. You were the first.

“Oh no! I loved the monkey bars, we used to climb up on them all the time when I was little. I guess those things are kinda dangerous huh? Actually, I’m kinda shocked I never fell, a miracle right?” 

You laughed and Choso found himself smiling at you again. 

You were too accident prone so it really was a miracle. 

“Yeah, good thing you never fell Y/N… It would be a shame to have to get a big ugly tattoo on that cute face.” 

Choso swore on his life those last words only were said in his head but from the way your eyes widened he knew he fucked up.

“I- that is.. I meant-”

Choso smacked a hand over his face. He can’t believe he just said that out loud to you. He was really losing it. 

“So you think I’m cute?” you teased giggling. You angled your head so you could look up at him from underneath his hand.

“Yeah, about as cute as the blood splatter diagram on this page.” he teased you back. A small smirk on his features as he peeked at you through his fingers.

“Hey!” 

Choso chuckled. Little did you know he actually paid you a huge compliment comparing you to something he thought so alluring as blood.

You grab the hand covering his face as your smile widens and you playfully struggle with Choso. 

You don’t become aware of your close proximity until you almost bump noses.

Choso locks eyes with you and you feel your tummy tighten as you bite your lip. 

You’re still holding his hand and after a while you work up the courage as your other hand comes up to touch his face. 

“Your tattoo isn’t ugly Choso,” you breathe out softly.

Choso closes his eyes as you trace the scar beneath his tattoo. 

You weren’t sure what you were doing but your hand involuntarily begins to travel across his face and his piercings until they graze over his lips and he opens his eyes again.  

Startled by the sudden hungry look in his eyes you pull back your hand but he captures it in his own, him being the one to trap you this time.

If either one of you just moved even an inch forward your lips would touch. You see Choso’s lips part when–

“Yo! Hands off my girl, freakshow!” 

“Dean!?” You pulled back out of Choso’s embrace, floored to see your boyfriend and some more of his football buddies heading towards you as you knew they still should have been at practice around this time.

“Oooh he’s in for it now messin’ with Dean’s girl.” Dean’s football friends snickered.

Choso audibly breathes out in exasperation. The moment was ruined and he really didn’t have the patience to deal with your neanderthal boyfriend and his football lackeys who all shared a singular brain cell. 

Didn’t they have a ball or something to chase?

“Uh hey, Dean I..” 

You stop yourself when it’s clear Dean is ignoring you entirely as he approaches the table. Not even looking your way to greet you. 

His aura oozes faux tough guy bully and walks straight up to Choso to size him up leaning on the table to tower over him.

“I’m talking to you, freak. You think you can put your hands on what belongs to me?”

Choso doesn’t look up at him but his grip instinctively tightens on the pen in his hand under the table as if it was Ghostface’s hunting knife. 

Dean’s show of bravado going ignored by Choso pisses him off even more that his teammates are with him and the tough guy act is failing to have any real effect. 

Tch. 

With a swift movement Dean knocks Choso’s coffee over on the table, its half drunken contents falling on both you, Choso and his books. 

This has Choso rising out of his seat as he thinks your boyfriend must have an unknown death wish.

Choso’s pen is still in his grasp but by his side now. It would be too easy to drive it into Dean’s neck before the dolt even knew what hit him. A bit extreme, but it could be considered an unfortunate accident of self defense if Dean struck first.

Fortunately, you stepped in between the two in order to diffuse the situation without picking up on Choso’s murderous intent. 

You chewed your lip. This was low key, your fault. You technically were dating Dean. Although Dean was always the furthest thing from your mind when you were around Choso. 

You didn’t even feel guilty for being caught as you’ve had your own suspicions for a while Dean had been cheating on you anyway, you just couldn’t prove it. You were still dating him more out of convenience than anything else, other jocks and frat boys left you alone knowing you were with him.

The only guilt you actually did feel was for Choso. This wasn’t his problem or relationship but of course Dean was a big enough asshole to make this into an actual issue with Choso since it was becoming clearer how little respect he had for you.

“Dean, what the hell is your problem!? You got coffee everywhere, this isn’t even my jacket.” 

“Don’t what the hell me Y/N, you're so fucking dumb you’re going to let this freak get in your pants when– wait you’re wearing fucking his jacket!?” 

Dean was yelling now and a small crowd was forming and starting to take out their phones to record. 

You could not let this turn into an incident.

“Dean chill the entire fuck out, would you?! It was cold, so he let me borrow it– He’s just my T.A.”

A wave of harsh realization washed over Choso. 

Just her T.A.

Right.

Choso is no one important to you, especially with your football boyfriend and social standing on the line.

He’d let whatever the fuck almost happened between the two you just now make him forget that. 

Not anymore.

“That’s right. I’m just her T.A. So if you’ll excuse me.” 

Choso turned from you both to salvage what he could of his books and leave.

You couldn’t place the emotions in Choso’s words and it made your chest tighten up. But you weren’t trying to write him or your almost-kiss off. 

You didn’t mean for it to come out that way but you really lacked the proper words in these kinds of situations.

“Where do you think you’re going, loser?”

Dean grabbed Choso’s shoulder but the intense murderous look in his eyes made Dean release him just as quickly as if he had been burned. 

Even his football goon friends unconsciously took a few steps back feeling the very real threat in Choso’s eyes. 

Choso smirked as he left. Thought so. 

“W-wait Cho–”  

You want to stop him but feel Dean’s rough grip on your wrists.

“Whatever, let’s fucking go Y/N. We have an important party to throw later.” 

Dean grabs your wrist and jerks you away with you barely being able to grab your bag. 

Your stomach twists and you are at a complete loss for words but manage to flash an apologetic look at Choso while you are dragged off. 

However when your eyes meet he looks right through you.

The expression on his face is stone cold and it sends a chill up your spine.

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ

A/N: I promise it won't take as long for the second part to come out. I'm half way done with it already! I was just going to wait and post it all together but a like 12k+ word post all at once would be insane lmfao. After I am finished with this prompt the next 3 stories I will do will be from Thrilling Ghouls as they are all much shorter PWPs in the 3-5k range and I won't have to stress so much since I'm realizing all my Smooth Criminal prompts are longer fics and it takes me like a week or more to write them.

ღTaglistღ: @callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @akaza-simp01 @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @samicamy-13

comment on m.list to be tagged in future Kinktober '23 stories

please stop to take a look at this wonderful art of the last scene that @laikatsuki created, tysm again pookie bears!!!

Reblog for Ghostface!Choso to come steal your panties although comments and likes are appreciated all the same!

PART 2

[in-som-niyah]

hi!! i’m literally so obsessed with your work i’ve been scrolling your profile all day 😭😭 i was wondering if you could write something about jason x fem!reader getting married? mostly fluff but ill never say no to some good smut

a/n: "i’m literally so obsessed with your work i’ve been scrolling your profile all day" WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNNNN STOP UR GONNA MAKE ME CRY THIS IS EVERYTHING TO ME HELLO??? like wdym u like my work so much u spend so much time on my blog i love u gimme kiss

anyway this prompt is *chefs kiss* bc we all know Big Bad Jason Todd™ is such a loverboy softie but most of all he loves hard.

I think that before he met you he never thought that he would be so enamoured with someone who also feels the same way about him at the same time, that also wants to marry him??? He thinks he's too flawed and violent and abrasive for someone to even like being around him. So marrying him??? haha you're funny.

But after YEARS (yes, it takes him years of a committed relationship with you to fully trust that you actually like being with him for an extended period of time, let alone forever) of handling his emotions, outbursts and injuries with grace while still giving him a whack at the back of his head when he's being stupid, he considers marrying you.

Remember, Jason Todd is fucking scared himself, and he doesn't want to scare you off with a ring that literally promises forever with him. Though he loves you, he wants you to be happy in the end. Will you be happy with him in the end?

It takes a lot of mental and emotional strength to overcome these fears that swirl around his head.

When he does get over it though, he's so attentive yet sneaky when picking your ring. There's a luxury jewellery store on the way to your favourite clothing store at the mall, and he literally takes you to the whole mall just to pass by the store. He always looks to see what your eyes catch, what you like and don't like. Doesn't matter if he ends up spending hundreds since you're at the mall so much, he'll do it just to make sure he gets exactly what you want.

Jason also uses his extensive detective training to find out what cut and stone you want on the ring. He's ok with diamonds, but would want something more unique and personal for his love. He wants something that always reflects you, no matter the occasion.

Side note: once the ring comes he would definitely put together a photo album of pics he took of the ring in plain sight while you're completely oblivious just for shits and giggles

Finally, when it's time to pop the question, he doesn't do flashy and big productions with lights and letters and petals and stuff.

He would be dancing in the kitchen with you on a lazy Saturday, eating pancakes and bacon and when the song ends just casually asks "if I were to ask you, would you marry me?" Now he looks collected as he lovingly smiles down at you but is actually shitting himself until you say that you would in fact marry him if he asked. Then he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the most perfect, detailed, gorgeous ring you could ever ask for while properly asking you to marry him. Cue the waterworks (from both of you) and the celebratory make-out sesh.

Y'all definitely fucking the night of the proposal though

I feel like it would be realllllly possessive since yk you literally belong to him now

"tell me who this pussy belongs to, pretty girl" Knowing full well you can't answer because your eyes have already rolled back mid-stroke and you're babbling incoherently. It does, however, put a smug ass smirk on his face.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n pt2 bc i can't shut up: i hope u like it!!! i wasn't in the mood to write anything smutty but idk im in my soft era for jason i just want his stoic self to love me :(((((

[aemondsbabe]

Two Souls, Entwined

summary: dreams & dirty talk || helaena has been plagued with visions; things between her and her lady in waiting finally reach a boiling point

pairing: helaena targaryen x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, wlw, mutual pining, angst but happy ending, dry humping, breast/nipple play, dirty talk but make it poetic and loving, slight aegon slander i broke my own heart, i love helaena sm, there needs to be more content for her i love her, let me know if i missed anything!!

word count: 4.1k

a/n: happy day ten of 12 days of smuff!! i'm actually very excited/proud of this one, it got a lot more personal than i was expecting! really feeding that scared bi girl i was in middle school idk. i hope y'all enjoy it!!!

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @merrypembertons

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

Helaena sighs when she opens her eyes and blinks, disoriented by the early morning light, her head still clouded with sleep. 

“Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe…” She whispers to the emptiness of her chambers, the cryptic phrase a familiar one now as it had been making its home in her head for the past few weeks. 

Sitting up with a groan, she pauses at the edge of her bed, staring blankly ahead as the cloudy figures from her dream seem to swirl around her still. She was growing frustrated with the shadowy shapes, as much as she hated to admit it – she did not often enjoy her dreams, they often brought news of unpleasant tidings, secrets that she alone seemed expected to bear, but for the past few weeks her dreams had been… pleasant. Joyous, in fact. Yet they seemed much further away than the others, only revealing small slivers of information to her night after night. 

She smiles softly as she gives one last glance out the window before padding over to the vanity in her chambers, determined to brush out her hair before the maids have the chance, they were always too rushed and hurried. Her mind drifts back to her dream as she runs a comb through her fair hair; lately, this mysterious dream seemed to be the only thing she could focus on for very long. 

The figure in it seemed so familiar, moving around her as if it was an old friend, someone safe. She sighed again as she thought, blushing despite herself as she recalled her latest vision, remembering how the shadow had moved about her, as if in a courting dance, before it leaned in closely, though if it were for a kiss or to whisper a secret she didn’t know. 

“Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe.” She repeats, as if the repeating will somehow reveal more. 

It puzzles her greatly, the feelings of safety mixed with distinct romantic desire, a deep wanting from somewhere within her. There aren’t many people she even feels safe around, and even less so those she’d ever felt romantic longing for, and a much shorter list followed of people who had ever felt romantic longing for her. She feels secure around her mother, of course, and grandsire and her precious younger brothers, but she cannot help but wrinkle her nose with disgust at the thought of romantic intent with any of them.

She blinks, setting her hairbrush down and biting her lip as she thinks. I feel safe with Aegon, she ponders, brows knitting together, He’s never given me a reason to not feel safe but… She sighs, not bothering to finish the thought. She was well aware her marriage was one of politics, not of love. She remembers there had been whispers of many suitors when she’d finally come of age; everyone from Aegon and Aemond to her half-sister’s bastard sons had been considered, and though Helaena appreciated some more than others… she didn’t desire any of them. 

Before she can help herself, her blue eyes flit over her own curves as she gazes at herself in the mirror, wishing, as she had so many times before, that she could reach out and feel her own reflection – feel a mirrored twin with similar soft skin and supple flesh. She wishes that soft, delicate fingers could touch her as well; she had grown tired of rough, battle worn touches long ago. 

Someone I feel safe with and feel romantic longing for, she thinks again, blinking rapidly as a familiar face immediately springs to mind yet again, just as it had every time she’d pondered this mystery for the last few weeks, only growing more frustrated. It can’t be, she’d decided that long ago, long before this vision began. 

But...

The Gods only ever seemed to show her visions that were assured, that would come to fruition, one way or another. Maybe… maybe that meant that y–

No, she thought, locking eyes with her reflection, Don’t be ridiculous. 

She smiles as she hears her chamber doors opening, at the same time they do every morning, and turns around on the ornate, cushioned chair at her vanity, her eyes locking with your familiar ones as you waltz it. 

“Good morning, Princess,” her heart beats a mite faster at the sound of your voice, at the bright smile that graces your lips as you stride to her, “I trust you slept well?”

“Good morning, sweet friend,” she greets you brightly, standing and pulling you into a hug as she did every day, “I did, quite peacefully, actually. And you?” She asked, trying to ignore the small voice that longed to hold you more closely, as she did everyday. 

“I did as well,” your hand lingers in hers for a moment as she steps away, sitting back at her vanity as the maids arrive, instantly fluttering around the two of you like a kaleidoscope of butterflies, “After we break fast, would you like to come to the gardens with me?”

Helaena merely nods, though inside she buzzes, her heart fluttering like a bird’s wings. 

I would follow you into the Seven Hells, she longs to say. 

You wake with a small start, your hand instantly flying to your lips. You could swear they still tingle for a second from when she’d kissed you, just before you’d woken up. Blushing, you glance around your chambers, as if there would be anyone else there, and finding them empty leaves you both relieved and disappointed all at once. 

Sighing, you slide off of your plush bed and walk over to your small vanity and use the small wash basin to splash water on your face. A small thrill shoots up your spine as you glance over your shoulder in the mirror, knowing from the position of the light filtering through your windows that it’s nearly time to go find your friend. 

Friend.

It’s a funny word, you think, not one you would have imagined assigning to the princess all the many years ago when you’d arrived at King’s Landing, young and eager to be a lady in waiting for Helaena. You can’t help the smile that blooms on your lips each time you think of her, your quiet, captivating princess. You meet your own gaze in the mirror and frown, looking at yourself in the way a disappointed parent would look at a child. 

Not yours, you chide, like repeating it over and over would make it hurt any less, Not yours, not yours, not yours. 

Sighing yet again, you rise from your spot at the vanity and quickly grab your robes, eager to escape your own thoughts. 

“This one is the iphiclides podalirius,” Helaena says, her voice soft as she marvels at the delicate butterfly perched on the back of her hand, “More commonly called the scarce swallowtail, I believe. It’s truly remarkable, normally they don’t travel this far north, though I’m told they’re a common sight in the gardens of Sunspear.”

“Then we are quite lucky to see it,” you smile, setting your embroidery hoop on the bench beside you as you study the yellow and black striped insect, though your eyes seem to drift to the princess on their own; you can’t help but smile as you see the way her beautiful sapphire eyes light up as she examines the small creature, “It’s very beautiful.”

Like you, you think, swallowing down the words. 

“Would you like to hold her?” Helaena asks, looking at you hopefully. 

As always, you nod, aware that you were the only one who seemed to entertain her fascination with insects and plants. Selfishly, you liked that. 

Slowly and carefully, Helaena guides the butterfly onto the back of your hand; the two of you sitting close together, close enough for your shoulders to press together. A giggle leaves you at the feel of the insect's feet on your skin, so small and light, like tiny, faint kisses.  

“Perhaps she was drawn to the hydrangeas,” the princess muses, “Those are new this year, though I suppose any of the other very colorful plants would spark her fancy as well, like the lilac or poppies or…”

It takes you a second to notice that she’s gone quiet next to you and you finally tear your gaze away from the butterfly, frowning slightly when you see the look on her face, her blue eyes hazy and unfocused as they flit back and forth like she’s watching figures you cannot see. 

“Princess?” You ask softly, reaching out to take her hand, only halfway aware of the butterfly fluttering away, “Helaena?” You ask again, a bit louder, gripping her hand tighter. 

“Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe…” She whispers, so faintly that the words scarcely leave her lips. Your frown only deepens, your eyebrows knitting together as you shake your head, trying to make sense of her words. 

“What?” You ask softly, used to hearing her mutter odd phrases but seeing her in a trance was something altogether different, “Helaena? Should I go fetch the maester?” You don’t know why you ask her, not expecting a response. 

The figure danced in front of her again, clouded in darkness, though instead of feeling cold and empty like the dark so often did to her, these shadows hugged Helaena like a blanket. 

She blinked, and suddenly everything changed, becoming clear as if she’d blinked away tears. The clarity was startling for a second as the edges of the figure sharpened before her, still leaning toward her as if it meant to whisper an amorous secret.

Finally, her eyes focused and in that moment, she felt as if she could be knocked over by the air current made from the flittery wings of a butterfly. 

You. 

It was you, just as she’d always suspected, standing before her as if you’d always been there. 

Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe. The phrase repeats in her mind like a mantra as she stares at you, marveling at the way you stare at her. 

Like she’s precious, something to be fawned over. Something to be… loved? 

Her heart hammers wildly in her chest as she reaches out, her fingers finally skimming over your cheek. 

She could cry, perhaps she is crying, she doesn’t know. The only thing she’s sure of is that this feels so right, like a puzzle piece within her has finally shifted and slotted into place. 

Just as it crosses her mind to lean in and kiss you, the vision falls away, words echoing in her mind as the gardens come back into focus.

Not a friend. 

Not a friend.

Not a friend.

Yet...

Not a foe. 

“Helaena, please!” You beg, urgency coating your voice as you lean in closer, closer than you’d ever dared before, praying to see some spark of recognition in the princess’s eyes. 

Suddenly, she seems to come back to herself, gasping as you jump back away from her, startled. 

“Oh!” She breathes, blinking a couple times before her blue eyes finally fix themselves on you, “I’m so sorry, I don’t… I don’t know what came over me.”

You shake your head quickly, moving back toward her and taking her hands in yours once more, your heart twisting as you notice them trembling slightly. “There’s no need to apologize, I’m just happy you’re alright.” 

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, Helaena staring at you in a way that makes your cheeks heat up, as if she’s seeing you for the first time, before she seems to catch herself and look away, much to your disappointment. 

“Was that one of your dreams?” You ask softly, looking down to where her hand rests within yours. 

“Yes.” She says simply, her eyes locked on the way your fingers overlap hers as she desperately tries to ignore the voice in her head telling her to enterwine them. 

“What did you see?” You ask, catching her gaze again. There’s a fire in her eyes now that makes you shiver. 

She’s quiet for a moment, neither of you so much as breathing as you stare at each other – the princess looking at you so intently you wonder if she’s trying to hear your thoughts. You pray she can’t. 

“Nothing of importance,” she says finally, pulling her hands away and standing from the bench suddenly, “They’re just shapes, really. Fuzzy things.”

“Alright,” you smile as you stand with her, picking up your embroidery hoop from where it had been abandoned at your side, “If you ever wish to discuss them, I would be more than happy to listen.” You tell her, desperately wanting to hold on to whatever moment you had just shared with her. 

She merely nods with a small, soft smile and holds her arm out for you to take, “Let’s go, we don’t want to be late for supper.” 

The fire warming your skin from the hearth in Helaena’s chambers normally felt cozy and inviting, but tonight the heat of it was stifling as the two of you sit in silence. Each of you is presumably working on an embroidery piece, although the atmosphere feels more like that of a stalemate with each passing moment. 

You can feel her looking at you, sneaking glances every minute or so. You imagine she can probably feel the same, perhaps that’s why she keeps looking your way, because you can’t seem to keep your eyes off her either. 

Finally, the tension in the room seems to boil over and you can’t take it anymore; your fingers dig into the wood of your embroidery hoop as you gather the courage to speak. 

“Have I… Are you cross with me?” 

“Pardon?” The princess asks, jumping a bit before laying her hoop at her side, her eyes wide as she looks at you unabashedly now. 

“You, well, you keep looking at me. I just, I’m hoping I haven’t offended you in some way.” You chance a glance at Helaena and quickly do a double take, heart clenching in your chest when you see that she looks as if she’s about to cry. 

“You haven’t,” she breathes, shaking her head emphatically, locks of pale hair cascading down her shoulders as she does, “I simply… I was considering the dreams I’ve been having, the one I had earlier today.” 

“But what does that have to do with me?” 

“You’ve been in them!” She says suddenly, loudly, like she has to force out the words. 

“What?” You blink. 

She sighs heavily and swallows, wringing her hands on her lap. “You were in them. You have been for weeks.” 

You wonder if the princess can hear your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you blink, silently praying to whichever of the Gods may be listening that Helaena’s dreams and your dreams were not somehow intertwined. In the back of your mind, you knew your pleas were useless. 

Your mouth opens and closes a few times like a fish that’s been plucked from the water before you finally find your voice, “What… what am I doing in them?” Your whole body buzzes, fearing the answer and desperately needing it all at once. 

The princess hesitates, you want to scream as you can all but see her weighing her options in her mind before she finally, finally speaks. 

“Courting me, kissing me.” 

A small withering, wounded noise passes your lips at her words. You feel dizzy, the room spinning as you feel as though the entire world is crashing down around you while at the same time, it’s as if a mountain’s worth of weight has been lifted from your shoulders. 

“And your visions… they only show things already fated to occur?” You feel frozen as you ask, not a muscle in your body moving. You know the answer even as the question leaves your lips, but you need to hear her say it. 

Helaena sighs and shakes her head, a frown cutting across her pretty face, “That’s why it’s frustrating,” she bites, spitting the words like the mere act of explaining is painful, “This one cannot come to pass, I do not understand why I see it…”

She keeps speaking, talking through her annoyance, but the sound of your own blood pumping wildly through your veins blocks out her words. 

No, your head pounds as you silently scream, No, no, no! Please, just let me explain, give me a chance, I’ll do any—

A loud sob cuts through your thoughts; the world seems to wrench its way back to you as you look at the princess, eyes widening when you see the tears flowing down her flushed cheeks. 

“You could never truly wish to…” She says slowly, brokenly, words fading like she can’t even bear to say them. 

“I do.” The words feel punched from your chest like you’re holding your heart out to the open air.

Helaena’s ocean eyes cut to yours as her breath hitches, the both of you not daring to move a muscle as you sit together on the small sofa in her chambers; the fire crackling in the hearth is the only indication that time has not ceased to exist. 

You aren’t sure who moves first, maybe the Gods have threaded the two of you together so tightly that you move as one, you can’t be sure. 

But her lips are on yours. 

And her hands cup your cheeks as yours scramble to fit around her waist, four hands poised on a knife’s edge. 

You sigh against each other, pulled together like a knot in a thread, and you gasp as you find yourselves pressed together, chest to chest.

Finally, you part for air, panting together as you stare, foreheads pressed together. 

“Princess—“

“You love me?” She asks, swiping a thumb over your cheek; it’s only then you realize you’re crying. 

“Yes,” you breathe, your hands grip her tighter, pulling her impossibly closer to you, “And you?” 

“Yes,” she echos, her thighs slotting over one of yours as she climbs atop your lap, “You are my heart beating out of my body.” 

Her words zap through you and your heart twists in your chest as your hands clamber against her, your lips press against hers again urgently. Twin moans, muffled into each other's mouths, sound between you as your hands cup her rear, pressing her more urgently against you. 

“You are beautiful,” you sigh, hands grabbing at her plush curves through the silk fabric of her skirts, “You’re so soft and —“ 

“Warm,” she breathes, moaning into the column of your neck as her lips move against your skin, “You’re so warm, my love, like the sun.” 

My love. The pet name sends a shiver down your spine as the two of you move together, pressing kisses against whatever patches of skin you can find, rocking together instinctually. The firmness of her thigh presses deliciously against your center, your skirts rucked up enough to bare your smallclothes, which press welty against your core. 

You gasp, pressing a kiss to the princess’s collarbone as her hips move tantalizingly on your thigh, the warmth between her legs nearly suffocating as you whimper and sign against each other’s soft skin. 

“I have always loved you,” you confess, nearly coming undone as she begins tugging at the ties at the bosom of your gown, her hands shaking as she pulls them loose, “Always, from the first moment I saw you.”

She makes a noise between a moan and sob as she finally tugs your bodice loose, and you whimper as her lithe fingers ghost over your breasts, causing your back to arch into her touch. “I’ve always loved you too,” she sighs as her soft hands cup your chest, kneading the flesh in her palms, “I always wanted to court you, marry you, I,” her voice breaks off in a faint, high-pitched whine as you finally manage to unbutton the bodice of her gown, she savors the feel of your lips and hands against her breasts for a moment more before continuing, “Gods, I wished to bed you, I’ve always longed to know what you would feel like, how sweet you’d taste.”

Her confessions nearly make you weep as you kiss over the fat of her breasts, keening into her supple skin as she delicately pinches at your nipples, “I have only ever thought of you, my sweet princess,” your chest heaves as you speak, your words muffled as you lick over her nipple, “When I sleep, when I wake, when I–” The words stick in your throat as you freeze, peering up at her through your lashes, somehow still impossibly afraid of going too far, or too fast, or too anything. 

“When you what?” She asks, her voice so soft and sweet as she stares down at you, her fingers digging into your breast and side as her sapphire eyes flit between yours, “Tell me, my love, when you what?” She urges, her hips moving somehow more desperately against yours, only serving to fuel the fire slowly building within you. 

“Gods, when I touch myself,” you whisper, shuddering as she lets out a breathy moan above you, “When I peak, sweet princess, I think only of you.” Your confession ends in a sharp gasp as she angles you backwards, anchoring you to her with an arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Her lips trail down your neck and collarbone before finally, she presses firm, fiery kisses to your breast, panting as she wraps her petal pink lips around your nipple and sucks, pressing her thigh more firmly against your center as she does. 

“I think only of you too,” she breathes, blue eyes fluttering up to yours as your hands tangle in her pale locks, “Every time I touch myself, I dream of you,” she mumbles around your breast, her touch all but burning into you as she kisses across your chest before mouthing at the other side, “When my brother beds me, it is you I see, my precious lady.”

You practically sob as her admission sends you reeling, each cell in your body bursting like lightning from a stormcloud as you peak. You’re useless to do much else other than tremble in her hold as shivers travel in currents down your spine, your smallclothes no doubt ruined as your center clenches frantically at nothing, your pearl so taut and achy as it twitches against the princess’s thigh. 

You don’t waste a second when your high subsides, moving frantically as you push Helaena back, slotting yourself perfectly atop her, pressing your thigh between her legs like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. Your skirts fan out around your bodies, blanketing your forms in a soft sea of silk, your bare chests pressed tightly together as you rut against her, needing to see her awash with pleasure more than you need breath in your lungs. 

“My love, my sweet princess,” you sigh into her mouth, your tongues swirling together as she all but cries beneath you, her hands digging possessively into your waist, “I am yours, my love, until the end of my days.” You swear, pressing your thigh tightly against her center, and your heart soars as she finally shatters in your grasp.

You watch, enraptured, as she peaks; mesmerized at the blush that blooms on her skin, at the way her blue eyes roll back as her eyes flutter closed, at how her breasts heave as she sucks in desperate breaths. The sounds she makes seem to pierce into your soul, each whimper and moan and cry ripping away parts of you until your heart is stripped bare, beating only for her. 

The two of you lay in a heady silence for many moments, the only sounds being your soft, panting breaths as you each come down and the ever-present crackle sounding from the hearth. 

“Your friend is not a friend yet not your foe.” Helaena whispers, her voice raspy as she speaks.

“Pardon?” You ask, pulling back from her embrace just enough to meet her gaze.

“That phrase,” she explains, her eyes glimmering in the firelight as a smile steadily blossoms on her pink lips, “I kept hearing it, in my dreams about you.”

You stay silent, tracing soft circles on her soft skin, leaving room for her to continue.

“I wasn’t sure at first, but now I see.”

“Hm?”

You aren’t my friend, the Gods spoke truthfully,” she beams, radiating joy as she studies your face, “You’re my love.”

Her statement is simple, but it makes you smile all the same as you press a sweet kiss to her lips.

“Yes,” you nod, pulling back to meet her eyes as you lay a hand over her heart, “Always.”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel @avidreader73 @marvelescvpe @imawhorecrux @grsveeth0m

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[angstychilz]

Y'all, the idea of Shapeford has wormed its way into my head and fundamentally changed my brain chemistry at this point. I mean, hear me out real quick!

Okay, okay, strap in cause this is a bit of a longer tangent than I usually yap about. I promise I'll make it worth your while QwQ

Firstly, considering I imagine this happening on the first day of Weirdmageddon (or at the very least some time very early in it), imagine what lengths the Pines' family would need to go in order to actually beat Bill this time. They can't pull the ol' switcheroo with Standford in the shape he's in now. Literally! I've had ideas on what this could lead to, but I've been swirling it around indecisively for about the entire time I have been growing this concept. Gotta let that baby cook for a few more days I guess XD

Then there is the fact that Ford being no longer human is, by all accounts, far more of a freak than he could have ever imagined himself as. And, depending on how you think about it, it really is a self-fulfilling prophecy at this point. Hell, to drive the point home, he actually has five fingers for once (since I imagine Euclidean's naturally have 4 fingers so by all accounts Ford is still Polydactyly) but that's the least freakish thing about him by human standards. He eats out of the same whole that has his eyes, he speaks and yet has no mouth, and he is the farthest thing from anything mammalian with his physical makeup. Even worse than that, there isn't anything he can exactly do to reverse the damage at this point. He's just a shape now as his human body was obliterated beyond truly fixing. So he'll just have to live with this new form, or, ya know, go crazy trying to find a way to reverse it.

Furthermore, while I like to imagine he would try softening the blow by just telling Dipper and Mable how Bill simply turned him into a shape for entertainment, having to admit to Stanley that the real reason he can't simply be turned back is because he was by all accounts killed and reincarnated as something completely different has so much angst potential. Like, fr fr, just think of Stanley realizing Staneford actually died, and imagine the distrust and hurt he'd feel considering their rocky brotherly bond to begin with and knowing the only reason his brother is 'back' is because Bill basically went 'nuh-uh' and turned Standford into this thing. Imagine the possible guilt of never truly reconciling with said human brother before whatever he is now.

Gosh, I just realized, would Standford never be able to leave Gravity Falls then due to the barrier? Would his weirdness make it so that the whole 'going to sail the seas with your twin brother' dream Stanley had is just dead in the water?

Also, a part of me is just made so delightfully ill at imagining Standford having untapped potential power in this form but being unable to access it due to his own metal barrier of trying to be less freakish and more 'human'. Whatever that means to him by this point.

Does this make any sense? Am I actually cooking? Y'all please, I feel like I'm only one this invested in the idea of a Shape Standford Pines and it has me in a chokhold

Anyways, this New Normal AU has been on my mind, and I just needed to dig out some of the brain worms to release the pressure in my head. Thanks for listening to my Ted Talk, and maybe expect some more doodles and art down the line cause I haven't even finished the possibilities.

[tongue-like-a-razor]

No Sex with the Ex

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female!Reader

A/N: Hey y'all! I'm so glad to be posting again <3 Hope you guys like this little story. I'm not sure if I will continue with it or just leave it as it is but, for now, consider it a one-shot.

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw can't get you out of his head post-breakup and, when you turn up at the bar unexpectedly, he begins to question whether closure is really all it's cracked up to be. Surely, getting over you can be achieved just as effectively by getting under you.

CW: swearing, drinking, angst, fluff, suggestive banter, a lovesick Rooster

Bradley stares at the bubbles swirling in his beer as Jake enthusiastically interacts with a particularly chatty pair of women who’ve inserted themselves into their conversation.

Jake nudges Bradley in the ribs, giving him a cross look, and Bradley glances up to direct a reluctant grin at the girls.

“He’s a little tired today,” Jake excuses Bradley’s behavior, eyeing him pointedly. “Pulling too many G’s.”

One of the women leans her ample bosom into the table. “What’s that like?” she asks in a sultry voice, but Bradley’s attention has already reverted to the fizzing beer under his nose.

“It’s tiring,” Jake answers for him. Once the women head back to the bar, Jake rounds on Bradley. “Rooster, making eyes at your beer ain’t gonna get you laid.”

Bradley lets out a heavy sigh and takes a swig of his drink. “Who said I wanted to get laid?”

Jake grimaces. “Who doesn’t?”

Bradley shrugs.

Jake groans. “Bradshaw, if this is about Y/N –”

“Of course, it’s about Y/N,” Bradley responds glumly.

“This is precisely why you need to get laid.” Jake waves his hand at a different set of women at the opposite end of the bar.

Bradley lowers his head into his hand, clammy from gripping his sweating beer stein, and rubs the cold condensation into his forehead.

“Fuck,” he hears Jake mutter to his right.

Bradley turns his head without lifting it from his hand. “Did they leave?” he asks monotonously.

Jake cringes. “No, they’re still here,” he says. “But so is someone else.”

Bradley’s face pales and he instantly looks up at the door, straightening his posture and craning his neck. He sees you enter the bar with your friends and groans. “For fuck’s sake,” he mutters. You’re wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a tank top that hugs your curves perfectly. You’re smiling as if you have no care in the world – laughing even, because some idiot in a uniform makes a joke which probably isn’t even funny. Bradley turns to Jake with a look of disgust.

Jake is wearing a forced smile to indicate that, despite this unforeseen incident, the evening is far from lost. “There are other bars,” he says. “We could go” –

“We could go home,” Bradley says, rising from his seat.

“Your glass is still half full!” Jake exclaims, pulling on Bradley’s arm to yank him back into his seat.

“You mean half empty,” Bradley grumbles, picking up the beer without sitting back down.

Jake rolls his eyes. “Rooster, if we don’t get you laid tonight, I’m gonna end up strangling your ass because you’re really starting to get on my nerves.”

Bradley lifts his eyes to find you again as you weave through the crowd toward a table near the back. He slams the stein down and Jake stares at the empty glass with wide eyes.

“Okay, yeah,” he says. “We need to leave.”

“Hang on,” Bradley says roughly. The rapid consumption of alcohol has given him a newer, slightly more distorted perspective on matters. He starts for your table.

“No, no, no,” Jake leaps from his seat, bounding around to stop Bradley from taking another step. “You don’t want to do this.”

Bradley lets out a frustrated sigh, thrusting Jake’s hand away. “I just want to” –

Jake shakes his head. “I’m not letting you talk to her like this.”

“I’m not going to be a dick,” Bradley replies angrily.

Jake watches him skeptically. “Right,” he says. “I’m more worried about you thinking with your dick than actually becoming it.”

“I’ve had three beers, Hangman. I’m not drunk.”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “You’re not sober.”

“You said I should get laid.”

Jake lets out a cackle. “Not by her.”

Bradley rolls his head between his shoulders tiredly. “Fine, just pick someone and let’s get on with it.”

Jake chuckles. “You might need to put in just a tiny bit more effort than that.”

Bradley watches as you down a shot with your friends. “If it’s not going to be her, then it’s not worth it,” he responds flatly.

Jake claps Bradley on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit, bud.”

Bradley gives him a contemptuous look. When he glances back to your table, you’re gone. His heart drops and, to his own surprise, he starts scanning the room trying to locate you.

Jake nudges him in the rib again and Bradley looks over at him distractedly. Jake clears his throat and nods in the direction of the bar.

Bradley swallows hard as he turns his head. He doesn’t need to search this time, because his eyes lock right on yours across the room. So, you’ve noticed him. He doesn’t have it in him to give you a smile – it might end up killing him if you don’t return it. He chews on the inside of his cheek uncomfortably while Jake releases a string of profanities to his left.

“It’s cool, it’s cool,” Jake says, trying to compose himself. “We’ll slip out the back.”

“I’m not leaving,” Bradley breathes.

“Bradshaw, she doesn’t want to talk to you,” Jake hisses.

Bradley stares at you somberly, observing that you aren’t breaking eye contact. “I don’t want to talk,” he says in a low voice.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to fuck you either,” Jake says, trying to engage Bradley’s attention by standing before him and bouncing slightly on his feet.

Bradley steps around Jake who proceeds to groan in frustration. He starts in your direction wearily, trying to keep all semblance of emotion out of his expression. Your face, after all, is vexingly blank. He pushes past the bustling clientele of the establishment, leaving Jake grumbling in his wake. He has no clue what he’s going to say, let alone whether you will entertain his advances. But seeing you has stirred up enough turmoil in his gut to incite a goddamn tornado and, despite the coldness in your gaze, something tells him you’re about two shots away from melting back into his arms. In any case, the room is getting hotter by the second and there is no way in hell he’s turning back now that he’s close enough to see the fire in your eyes.

You don’t smile when he finally reaches you, but this doesn’t surprise him. He glances down at you when he’s too close to really see much more than your face, and the way you graze your teeth over your bottom lip as he does this rattles him. He takes a slight step back, overwhelmed by the potency of your presence. The amount of sway your mere existence has over him is an unnerving realization, one which he tries to suppress. He leans into the bar, looking straight ahead at all the bottles lined up behind the counter. If he talks to you, it’ll be his undoing. On the other hand, he’s already here.

“Just when I thought I was on solid ground,” he says, wincing at the rasp in his voice as the words scrape out of his dry throat.

You turn to also face the bar, leaning your elbows on its surface adjacent his. “Yeah,” you respond quietly, although your speech cuts through the entire noise of the room. “It’s no fun for me, either.”

Bradley turns to look at you. “Oh, I never said it’s no fun,” he says with a slight smirk.

You glance up at him reproachfully but, when your eyes meet, he can sense your mutual resentment giving way to the kind of tension that could very well land the two of you between the sheets. And, despite the very obvious arguments to be made against that sort of thing, he knows he’s game if you are. Since your breakup, he’s done absolutely nothing but think about you.

“You look like you’re doing well,” he says, trying to keep the bitterness in his tone to a minimum.

“Do I?” you ask wryly.

“You look happy.”

You nod slowly, your eyes glued to his face. “I’m okay.”

He’s grateful that you seem just as reluctant as he is to look away. He could probably stare at you forever. He’s fully aware that standing here and studying your features like they’re a work of art is not exactly the ideal road to recovery, but he can’t for the life of him remember why getting over you has ever even crossed his mind. And the way you’re practically undressing him with your eyes is disorienting him completely. Clearly, if he means to disregard any previously agreed upon dissolution of your relationship, you intend to be an accomplice. Closure is overrated anyway. Besides, there’s always tomorrow. “You probably want another drink,” he says.

You drop your gaze, letting out a sigh. “Probably not the best idea,” you respond.

Bradley watches you examine the speckled countertop of the bar with a small smile. He can tell that you’re toeing the line of reckless abandon and he aims to push you over the brink. Tentatively, as a rush of adrenaline hits his bloodstream, he slides closer to you, letting his arm brush against your shoulder. You turn your head to look down at the sleeve that’s rolled up to his elbow, the already pronounced veins of his forearm protruding further when he leans his weight into his arms. He rests his hand on the bar, palm up, lowering his head so that his face hovers just over your forehead. “Skip the drinks, then?” he mutters.

You let out a soft chuckle that nearly stops his heart. “Bradley,” you say with the kind of intonation that indicates that you mean to continue speaking, but no further words are pronounced.

You lift your face to meet his gaze and he brings his arm around your back to rest his fingertips over the sliver of exposed skin between the hem of your shirt and the top of your jeans. “One dance,” he whispers.

“What’s the point?” you ask, but the breathless quality of your voice suggests that the point doesn’t matter to you any more than it does to him.

Nonetheless, Bradley has an answer that is sure to wear down the last of your resolve. “I want to hold you.”

He can sense that you’re gradually succumbing to his influence because your body seems to gravitate forward.

He snakes his arm further round your back, cupping his hand around the side of your ribs as he pulls you closer. He brushes his thumb over the material of your shirt, right on top of the wing of your bra.

“One dance,” you murmur hesitantly as he leans his forehead into yours.

The scent of raspberry liquor on your breath is intoxicating and Bradley inches closer so that his nose is drifting across your cheek. “You smell so good,” he whispers.

He senses your breathing quickening the tighter he holds you. Your fingers, which have been absently toying with the fabric of his shirt, are now aggressively clinging to it. The commotion around the bar has completely faded into a distant background as if the two of you are suddenly existing on an entirely different plane. “One dance,” you repeat breathlessly.

“Just one,” Bradley assures you, his palm sliding down your side to grip into your waist. “My place or yours?”

Rooster Tag List:

The rest of the list is in the comments. Sorry if I've missed you!

@simp-for-fictional-people

@ollyoxenfrees

@iamabeautifulperson18

@living-in-my-imagination88

@wintercap89

@mavrellover91

@gingerbreadandpaper

@lonelywitchv2

@cashwheelersgirl89

@callsign-jupiter

@kindablackenedsuperhero

@everything-i-love-in-life

@malindacath

@rosiahills22

@wandering-wah

@olliepig

@m1llydins

@emilyniamh3679-blog

@footwatter

@books-for-summer

@harper1666

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@diabeticgoth

@katiebby04

@problematic-420

@wishfulhope

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@inarabee

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@ratedtvpg

@mak-32

@sunnysofia

@a-nostalgic-disaster

@aaliyahjovel

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[giggly-squiggily]

The Tickle Demon: First Strike (Black Clover)

Happy Sunday! Heyo everyone- I hope y'all are having a great weekend, and for those who work on Sundays I hope your day has been smooth! This is a collab with the amazing @intheticklescloset! The Ler!Liebe brainrot is strong within us jkarkjeajrkjaew Thank you so much Nym for collabing with me; I had so much fun!

For Nym's Part: The Tickle Demon: Second Strike

Summary: Liebe is familiar with tickling but has little to no experience actually doing so. Lucky for him, and not so lucky for Yuno- Asta decides to help him change that.

“Yuno!”

Said boy turned to find Asta waving at him, running down the paved roads leading away from the capital. It was their first real day off in months; no missions, no training- just a handful of hours to relax and explore the town like before.

And to start shit. “Hey, Shortsta.”

“There you go, making jokes!” Asta rolled his eyes fondly as he caught up, pulling him into a warm embrace. “I missed them, though. Really- it feels like it’s been forever since we’ve caught up! Look at you- you’re…huh?” Asta narrowed his eyes as he leaned back, taking him in. “Oh no way..did you get even taller?”

“Maybe. You’ve certainly gotten wider.” He poked at Asta’s arm, the muscle dense beneath his fingertip. “You’re like a miniature version of your captain.”

“Ha! You think so?” Asta let him go properly as he flexed, posing like one of those action figures the kids back in Hage played with. “I’ve been- OI!” He suddenly flustered, irritated at yet another short joke! “You’re really hung up on my height today, aren’t you?”

Before Yuno could reply with another playful jab, a small giggle was heard. Snickery and loud, and also kinda squeaky. The brunette furrowed a brow in confusion. It didn’t sound anything like Asta.

“Liebe, shush! Don’t laugh!” Asta cried indignantly, looking over his shoulder. Only then did Yuno finally see him.

A tiny black ball with hair like Asta’s- no bigger than a mouse. Right now, the tiny ball was laughing in its even smaller hands, one eye squeezed shut with mirth as it poked at Asta’s cheek. “He called you short! Hahahhaha!”

“That’s rich coming from you! You’re even shorter than me!”

“Take that back, you mortal!”

“You son of a-”

“What’s that?” Yuno cut in before what he suspected to be a bloodbath could erupt, tilting his head curiously. “Or should I say- who’s that?”

“Oh!” Asta’s face lit up, reminded once more his friend was before them. “Yuno! I want you to meet someone!” He gestured for the small blurb-Liebe, he said?- over so he was floating between them. “This is Liebe! He’s my demon!”

“...Huh.” Yuno nodded. That makes sense.

“Wha-You’re not shocked?” Asta was sure this was some world renowned information.

“Not really.” Then again, this was Yuno. He was rarely ever shocked. “You’re not exactly known for normalcy.”

That…was true. If Asta were being honest, Yuno’s lack of surprise at this revelation was comforting. He’d be rather sad if Yuno suddenly stopped wanting to hang out with him due to it.

The other part however was a bit peeved. He was hoping Yuno would at least drop his jaw! “Fine then- lemme show you something really cool! Liebe!” He shot his arm out to the tiny demon, watching the skin turn black as their pack formed. “Devil’s Union!”

“YEAH!”

A boom of magic, a swirl of a grimoire, and Liebe…was not fused with him. It was only after he came to full size that they remembered Captain Nacht’s words of warning.

If I come to find you two unionizing outside of battle, I’ll kill you both.

Instead of a new form, Asta…stood with Liebe on his shoulders. Stacked. They struck what they hoped would be a cool pose for the wind mage, sparkling in the sun. “How do you like us now?”

Yuno took them in, expression unchanged. Then he clapped his hands slowly-the sound soft.

“Don’t you dare pity-clap us! Whoa- Liebe stop moving!” Asta yelped as they were thrown off balance, wobbling about.

“You’re the one moving! Stay still- AH!” Liebe yelped and clung on tighter, accidentally choking Asta. The pair swirled about before coming towards Yuno- the other boy reaching out to steady them.

“Just stop here-Eeh!” He twitched when Liebe grabbed onto his shoulders, thumbs far too close to his neck. “Careful.”

“Hm? Why do you make that sound?” Liebe asked, his grip on Yuno unyielding. “Asta- what was that?”

“What was what?” The shorter mage asked, looking between them.

“Nothing. It was nothing at all-hmmmph!” Yuno shivered when Liebe dragged his thumb against his neck once more. Asta’s eyes widened, and he began to grin. “D-Don’t!”

“Don’t what?” They asked in unison. Yuno tried not to roll his eyes. Twins indeed.

“You know what.” He poked Asta in the belly for emphasis, making him step back with a giggle. “There, you’re stable now.”

“Asta- Asta! Why did he make that noise?” Liebe asked again, pointing at Yuno while the other sought his footing. “Tell me!”

“He laughed. He’s ticklish.” Asta nodded, grinning again when he saw Yuno’s ears get all red. “Humans are like that, you know?”

“They are?” Liebe hummed, looking thoughtful as he rested his folded arms across Asta’s head. “I see, I see…”

They stood there, lost in thought briefly before Asta gestured for him to lean down, voice low. “Wanna try something?”

More whispers, and the demon let out a string of giggly snickers, nodding rapidly. Yuno raised a brow in the back, already knowing where this was going and not liking it one bit.

“What are you two snickering about- Whoa!” Yuno didn’t have a chance to react. Asta came running at him, Liebe still on his shoulders. “Oh no you don’t!” He went to run, but Asta was always just that much faster than him without magic. Seconds later, they were on the ground, Yuno groaning at the weight of two Asta-sized beings landing on him. “Oof.”

“Asta! Asta we got him!” Liebe cackled, cheering from his seat on Yuno’s butt as Asta scooted out of the way, quickly grabbing Yuno’s wrists. “Do we do it now?”

“Not yet, Liebe- give him a second to catch his breath.” Asta insisted, watching Yuno’s ears burn as the anticipation began to set in. “You ready?”

“No.” Yuno peeped up while Liebe shouted “READY!”

“Not you, Liebe!” Asta held up a hand, stopping his demon. “Yuno, are you ready?”

“Hang on, let me up a second…” Yuno squirmed some until he was on his back, wiggling a hand free to wipe at his mouth with his hand. “My face hurts from lying like that. Okay..” He tried for a firm glare. “Ready.”

“Oh ho ho, I like him!” Liebe grinned as he readjusted, wiggling his fingers high. “Now I can do it?”

At one last look for reassurance from his friend, Asta nodded. “Go for it, my tickle demon!”

“Yeeee!” Liebe cheered before grabbing onto Yuno’s sides, worming his fingers into his ribs. At first, the brunette was wincing, his jaw gritted and brows furrowed. Asta waved down the other once more.

“Lighten up, Liebe. Gentle.”

“Oooo!” Liebe nodded, doing so, changing his deep burrows for a more gentle tap. The change was almost immediate- Yuno’s pained expression faded for one Asta was familiar with, grabbing onto the demon’s wrists as he tried flattening out his mouth. The classic stubborn Yuno look!

Not today! Asta decided to give Liebe his next lesson in tickling Yuno.

“Oo, what’s this? Does it tickle? Huh?” Asta cooed, daring to wiggle a few fingers overhead, worsening his friend’s defenses. “Is the big bad demon getting at your ribs? Is he? Huh? You gotta tease him too, it really works on him!”

“Huh? Okay! Tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle!”

“Yeah, like that!”

Yuno didn’t dare open his mouth- lest he lose control and start laughing. Instead, he gritted his teeth and turned to look the other way, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid the sight of those dastardly fingers. He should have known better- Asta wasn’t one for empty threats.

“AH!” He squeaked when he felt them touch down on his neck, tapping against his pulsepoint that had him scrunching up and giggly. “A-Ahahahahhahahsta! Aheahahha shohohohohohot! Gheahhahhaha dohohohon’t!”

“He’s laughing! Geehehehehehe! That’s right, human! Laugh before me!” Liebe cried dramatically, doubling his efforts as he walked his claws up Yuno’s ribs. The effect was working- Yuno went from barely grasping his wrists to trying and failing to catch them completely, squirming beneath their grasps as he laughed and wheezed. “He’s so sensitive! Hehehe!”

“Right?, That’s our Yuno- he acts all cool but really, he’s super ticklish!”  Asta giggled as he wormed his hands beneath Yuno, gently prodding into his armpits. Yuno shot his arms back so fast he bruised his elbow on the concrete, arching as he let out a whimpery laugh. “Careful! Don’t hurt yourself!”

“Aheahhahaha! Dihihihidn’t feheheheel a thihihihng! Gheahhaha- AHHA NOHOHO!” He cried again when Asta wormed his fingers into his neck once more, making him scrunch and curl up. “Ahehahahahahahhah dohohoohohn’t! Nohohohot thehehehehhere!”

“Why do you move? He laughs more there?” Liebe mused as he watched Asta giggle and move somewhere else again, prodding at his upper ribs and forcing Yuno to thrash. 

“Cause he asked! Plus, I don’t wanna tire him out too quickly. It’s not as fun.” Asta kept up his playful attack, relishing in Yuno’s giggle fits. “That’s important, you know? Gotta make sure he’s still having fun!”

“Fun…” When was the last time Liebe heard that? He tapped his claws into Yuno’s sides like how Asta curled his own, noting the different ways he reacted. “What does this do?”

Yuno let out a startled gasp before bursting into fresh giggles, his feet kicking helplessly against the pavement behind Liebe as he swatted at their hands. “Gehahahhahaahha! Cohoohohhome ohohohohohn!! Whihihihihy is he gohohohohod at thihiihihs?”

“Beginner’s luck?” Asta snickered, a bit amazed. He didn’t think  Liebe would pick up the whole tickling thing so fast. Liebe was like a fish to water, cooing at Yuno the way Asta did earlier and furthering the rosy blush on the wind mage's face hidden behind his hands.

Despite all this, he could tell Yuno was having fun. He wasn’t fighting back nearly as hard as he could, nor did he beg for mercy. If anything, he  was letting Liebe have his fun, just as he did with their brothers and sisters back home.

It made him smile. Yuno had accepted Liebe.

Eventually though, all good things must come to a close.

“Ahehahahah! Ohoohokay, oohohohkay- I’m dohohohone!” Yuno called out, reaching out and grabbing Liebe’s wrists. “Stahhahap!”

“Liebe.” Asta called out, gaining the demon’s attention. He cut a line through the air, signaling him to end. With some reluctance, the demon backed off, pulling his hands back as he looked down at the giggly mage. “Good.”

Yuno was a mess of laughter, cheeks pink and hair more askew than normal. He took slow giggly breaths as he pulled both arms across his face, hiding in his sleeves. Carefully, the demon climbed off of him, sitting beside Asta as they watched slowly recover. 

“Ugh..ehehe..Iihih’m stahahrting to feeehehel it now.” Yuno gestured to his bruised elbow, wincing some when he touched it.

Asta snorted, ruffling Yuno’s hair. “Sorry about that. Want me to kiss it better?”

“No way- you’d infect it.” Yuno swatted at him playfully, shaking his head. “It’d get all bulgy like yours- then I’d have one normal arm and one tree trunk one.” Asta laughed harder at the visual, making Yuno grin. Eventually, he sat up, facing the other two as he watched Asta cough and choke through his mirth. “Did you have fun?”

Liebe figured he was asking Asta, but when he saw Yuno’s eyes on him, he put on his best grin. “Of course I did! Humans are so sensitive! Hehehehehehe. I should tickle you more often!”

“Heh, yeah…Liebe,  did you know Asta’s ticklish?” That cut off Asta’s giggle fits, making him pause with wide eyes.

“He is?” The demon’s eyes got big with wonder, his attention snapping to the other and making Asta squirm. “Is he just as bad as you? Worse? Tell me!”

“I could.” Yuno smiled, a devious glint in his grin. “Or I could show you instead?”

To be continued in Nym's part!

Thanks for reading!

[thrawns-babygirl]

The Gallery (Thrawn x F!Reader 18+)

SO! A few things before we get started.

I know nothing about art. I tried my best to make this seem somewhat believable but I'm not an artist, nor will I ever be.

The "dates" I used were in the form of the 'Coruscant Reckoning Calendar' or C.R.C since the battle of Yavin hasn't happened yet and I hate BBY and ABY as in universe measures of time. However they aren't real dates I just threw random numbers into the format and hoped it looked semi believable

I am aware this is really derivative and I'm sorry in advance lmao

This is my first time writing Thrawn, and while I read copious amounts of Thrawn fanfic, I'm still nervous about how I write him so constrictive criticism is encouraged.

I hope y'all enjoy this, I had fun writing it. Been over a month since i wrote anything and it shows.

Rating: E (18+) Word Count: 3800+ Warnings: Unprotected PiV, Oral (F receiving), the tiniest breeding kink if you squint and tilt your head sideways, Art

Masterlist

You looked around the halls of the Imperial Palace and sighed. These galas were boring, atrociously so. But alas, if you wished to maintain funding for your gallery you had to at least make an appearance, rub elbows with the Imperial elite, sweet talk some moderately intoxicated senator or delegate into agreeing that your program was in fact not a waste of credits, and was actually something that the Empire should foster. A civilization without the arts was barely a civilization at all. You sigh, swirling the obnoxiously expensive drink you have in your hand as you stare up at a large canvas painting on the walls of the hall.

Pre Republic era, oil on canvas, looks to be-

“Coruscanti in origin, an interesting blend of ancient human styles native to the planet with a Duros influence, I’d date it around 3591.39.5, what do you think?” as smooth, calculated voice drawls from beside you.

You hum in thought, as you continue looking up at the artwork. “Perhaps earlier, the dot work is absolutely indicative of Duros influences, maybe even around 2280.124.43, when Duros traders started using hyperspace routes to explore the galaxy and foster trade” you turn to face the mystery man and stiffen as you notice the crisp white uniform of a Grand Admiral, but perhaps even more intriguing was his cerulean blue skin, and more intriguing than that, his red eyes that glow softly.

Without taking his eyes off the painting he continues “an interesting theory, however, I would date it after that. The artist was obviously human, their style indicating that they grew up around humans, the brushwork is similar to most works of that period, however the Duros influence would indicate it would have been some time after Humans had made contact with other races. Humans of that era were exceptionally isolationist, their artwork reflects that, this piece shows of an artist who is comfortable with outsiders enough to incorporate them into their medium” the man takes another sip of his drink before turning to you, fixing you with those enchanting eyes “what do you think?”

You’re taken aback, this man, this Grand Admiral, knows what he’s talking about, in fact he may even know more than you about the topic, you scramble to think of something, anything to say. Your face heats up as you think back on human art and history from that era and realise, he’s right. You take a sip of your drink to steel your nerves, warmth flooding your cheeks that you hope he doesn’t notice as you turn back to the painting.

“I think you might be right; I forget about how isolationist humans were back then; it would have taken a long time before they would have taken on facets of other species art in their own” you say thoughtfully as you look up at the painting. It really was a beautiful piece of art. You look back at the stranger to find him also gazing up at the painting with a thoughtful look on his face. Perhaps this art enthusiast of a Grand Admiral was the person you were looking for this whole time? Steeling yourself again you turn and give him your name.

“I curate the Royal Imperial Gallery here on Coruscant, a pleasure to make your acquaintance” You incline your head respectfully as he turns to face you again.

“Grand Admiral Mitth’raw’nuruodo, however you may call me Thrawn, and I am aware of who you are” Thrawn takes another sip of his drink as he turns his gaze back up to the painting. You eye him curiously as he drinks, his throat bobbing as he swallows and turns back to you.

“You do?” your tone slightly more accusatory than you wanted it to be, Imperial Grand Admirals tended to be the types of people who rallied against your requests for more funding, claiming that the money could be better spent on the Imperial Navy or the Stormtrooper Corps.

Thrawn’s mouth quirks slightly, as if he were attempting to stifle a smile before he speaks again, his voice low “Of course, I am a regular at your institution, I also appreciate your holo galleries so that I may appreciate new instillations while I am away on long campaigns. It is obviously, a crude imitation of having the original piece in front of me, but I will make do with what I can” he eyes you seriously. “I especially appreciated your most recent display of Pantoran tapestries. Pantora is a hub of so many different species and cultures, their art always provides an interesting challenge to see what visiting species influenced what pieces”.

You stare at him wide eyed as he speaks, this man, this Grand Admiral, was an art enjoyer, no an art enthusiast. Perhaps this meeting was destined, perhaps he was the one who would help you retain funding for your gallery before it was all syphoned off and spent on warfare. You open your mouth to speak but it’s like he could read your mind. “I have already spoken with the Emperor, he agrees with me that maintaining the fine arts is important for any society. Your funding is secure” he turns back towards the painting and takes another sip of his drink.

He spoke to the Emperor himself? And the Emperor himself agreed to maintain your funding? Your head was spinning. This is not at all what you expected when you came here tonight, you were expecting to have to plead your case to stuffy senators and businesspeople for them to even consider the possibility that your gallery was worth it. You shake your head as you realise you’ve been staring at him in stunned silence for longer than what would be considered polite. “I… Thank you Grand Admiral. That is… that is wonderful news” you fight to keep the emotions out of your voice, finishing your drink quickly “I don’t know how I can repay you” his lip quirks again in that almost smile before he too finishes his drink.

“No thanks is necessary, and please call me Thrawn, although I would love to hear about what new instillations you are planning for the gallery in the coming months, I have some time planetside and would be remiss to not attend a new display should you be preparing anything exciting” he waves over a serving droid as he talks and takes two more glasses of the overly expensive amber liquid, offering you one which you politely accept before he takes a sip of his.

And just like that, the hours melt away as you walk with Thrawn around the hall, speaking quietly to one another about the intricacies of the art hanging on the walls, from paintings to tapestries to the small statues lining the hall, Thrawn had something to say about all of it. For a military man, he was very, very well educated.

And very, very handsome.

You shake your head as you finish your drink, maybe you have had one too many glasses of Chandrillan Sweet Wine you think to yourself as Thrawn continues speaking about the techniques used to weave a particularly intricate tapestry the two of you were standing in front of. You wanted to listen to him, you really did, but watching the way his lips wrapped themselves around the words he was speaking combined with the melodic sound of his voice had your mind wandering to places that could be considered vastly unprofessional.

As if sensing your fleeting attention to what he was saying he turns to face you, raising a single eyebrow as his lips quirked once again in a ghost of a smile. “Apologies my lady, I do tend to get ahead of myself when discussing art, if you wish to take your leave I will not be offended” you falter slightly because no, you don’t want to leave, you could spend forever listening to his peculiar accent and you rack your brain for something that would keep him in your presence. So, you decide to take a small risk.

“No Thrawn, not at all, in fact I was just wondering if you would perhaps like to join me for a small excursion to the gallery. I could give you a sneak peek of the next exhibition we will be opening in the coming weeks, provided traditional Rodian woodwork is a topic you would be interested in?” you say hopefully, willing the heat away from your cheeks as you place your empty glass on a passing serving droid.

He smiles this time, not just a slight movement of his lips, but a genuine smile that has your heart beating slightly faster and your face burning. He too places his glass on a passing droid and gestures with his hand towards the door. “Lead the way”

The speeder ride towards the gallery is quiet, the lights of Coruscant illuminating the cab as the pilot droid takes you both towards the gallery. You shift in your seat, gazing at his profile from the corner of your eye. His long nose and pronounced cheek bones illuminated by the slight glow of his eyes. You wish you could think of something to say as you fiddle with the hem of your dress, but he doesn’t seem to mind the silence, in fact he seems to be the type that enjoys comfortable silence over inane small talk, so you keep your lips sealed, willing yourself to stop acting like a blushing schoolgirl as the cab stops in front of the gallery.

The gallery is dark, quiet, giving it an almost eerie quality as you walk through the halls, you unlock the door to your office and step to the side to allow Thrawn through, turning on the lights to reveal a small room, a moderately sized desk with a few shelves and a window that looks over the city.

“We haven’t gotten all the pieces yet, so this is only a taste of the style of art we will be displaying soon” you unlock another door that leads to a storeroom, pulling on some gloves, passing him a pair and grabbing a few of the intricately carved wooden sculptures to show the Grand Admiral. He takes them off you and studies them closely, his intense eyes scanning over every detail of the wood before moving over to another sculpture, then another. At the last sculpture he pauses, studying it even more intently than the others before looking up at you. “Do you know the importance of this piece?” he inquires as he holds the small wooden figure towards you.

You take it off him, studying it closely, noting the ridges and bumps. Unfortunately, Rodian art and wood carvings in particular have never really been your area of expertise, although you have a feeling that you’re about to learn. “Unfortunately, Thrawn I am not very well versed in Rodian woodworking, I have a few on staff that would know more than I do” you place the statuettes back into the storeroom and lock the door before turning back to him only to find him looking at you intently.

“That particular sculpture is known as a ‘Prwiss’ it was used as part of a fertility ritual on Rodia centuries passed. The statue would be placed near the bed of the couple attempting to conceive as they partook in intercourse in order to increase the likelihood of fertilization” he explains evenly.

You feel heat rising to your cheeks. ‘Definitely too much wine’ you think to yourself. The words ‘intercourse’ and ‘fertilization’ shouldn’t have such a visceral effect on you. All you can think of is having such a statue over your own bed as Thrawn runs his large hands all over your body, as he thrusts in and out-

“Do you know of my species?” Thrawn asks suddenly. You shake your head, mouth dry as you respond “No… I don’t” his shoulders rise and fall slightly, something that could potentially indicate a chuckle from the stoic man.

“I am Chiss” he says slowly walking towards you “and being Chiss has many benefits” he continues approaching you, in any other context, you could almost compare his slow steps to a predator stalking its prey.

“My eyes for example, I am able to see things that humans cannot. Heat for example” he says as he stops directly in front of you. You blush again, a fact made worse now knowing he’s been able to see your blushing so clearly the entire night the two of you have been together. You swallow, not trusting your voice as he stares you down. You take an unconscious step backwards, Thrawn following you until the backs of your legs meet the solid material of your desk.

“At first I simply thought that you were flushed from the alcohol but… now I have come to a different conclusion” he leans his face closer to yours, you can feel his warm breath against your lips as he holds his lips above yours. A moment for you to back away should you not wish him to go further.

You stare into his bright eyes as your face warms further and heat pools between your legs. Would he be able to see that beneath the layers of your dress? Your thoughts are abruptly cut off as he places his lips over yours, one hand coming up to cup your cheek as he presses you against your desk. You meet his lips in a passionate kiss, the heat from the night reaching a boiling point as he removes his gloves and places his hands on your hips, following his lead you do the same before tangling your hands in his soft hair.

After what feels like an eternity he pulls back, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss and a faint dusting of purple along his sharp cheekbones. He presses you further against your desk and you get the hint, moving some small items out of the way before sitting on the desk.

Thrawn attacks your lips again, a hunger present behind his movements as he situates himself between your legs, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he begins kissing along your jaw, down your neck. You gasp as you feel him suck a dark mark into the skin just above your collarbone, you tug at the soft strands of his hair eliciting a low growl that rumbles through his chest as he moves his hips against your core. You can feel a definite hardness in the front of his pristine while uniform pants as he moves his body against yours, dragging small sounds of pleasure out of you.

His hands begin moving all over your body, running up your sides around to your back where he begins unfastening your dress, his movements pausing for a moment as he looks at you. You answer his unspoken question with another fiery kiss as his hands work methodically behind you to unfasten your dress, letting it pool on the desk as he moves over towards your breasts. His long fingers tweaking and pinching at your nipples through the thin material of your bra as his other hand moves down your side to help totally remove the dress from you.

He pulls the dress over your head, pausing to haphazardly fold it and place it on your desk before his hands are all over you again. One runs along your thigh while the other expertly unclasps your bra, he pulls the fabric away from your body before moving his lips to your jaw and neck again. You move your hands to his hair again as he kisses down your neck towards your chest.

“Watching the blush crawl up your skin” he mumbles against your neck, voice husky “is truly the most beautiful thing in this entire gallery” he says before taking one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking, rolling the nub around his mouth, his tongue lathing over it. His tongue has an odd texture to it, you note, as he shifts his focus to your other breast, and you can’t help but wonder what that tongue would feel like against your clit. You arch into his touch as he kisses along your chest, lightly biting into the soft flesh, leaving dark marks against your skin as he slowly begins moving to his knees, kissing down your body as he goes, pausing at the fabric of your panties and placing a long passionate kiss on the damp fabric before he pulls the delicate material to the side and sinks his tongue into your cunt.

You moan, throwing your head back in bliss as he eats you like a man starved, lapping at your juices with fervour, your hands finding their way back into his soft hair as his tongue works magic against you. He alternates between rolling his tongue around your clit and shoving it as deep inside you as the muscle will go, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You tug on his hair causing him to groan into you, the vibrations making your walls clench as he focuses extra attention on your clit and suddenly the wave of pleasure crests as you climax, your eyes screwed shut and hips moving on their own accord as you all but ride his face through the precipice of your orgasm.

As you come down you open your eyes and look down at him, noting the sound of flesh on flesh and the movement of his arm another white-hot wave of arousal runs down your spine as you realise, he’s stroking himself.

A Grand Admiral of the Imperial Navy, on his knees in your office, touching himself while pleasing you with his mouth. The thought alone is almost enough to send you over the edge again.

His glowing red eyes look up at you, and he slowly stands from his position kneeling on the floor. You hold your breath as he rises, trying not to look too eager to get a look at what is between his legs. Do Chiss look like humans? Is he totally alien down there? Your eyes widen as your question is answered, despite the colour and a few, quite pleasurable looking, ridges, he looks remarkably human. Remarkably human and remarkably large.

The vision of the stoic Grand Admiral, still dressed in his white uniform with his trousers open and his rock-hard length on display is enough to make you lick your lips, your pussy clenching around nothing as fresh wave of arousal washes over you.

He takes himself in his hand, stroking himself a few times, placing the blunt head of his cock against your wet entrance before pausing. “A moment” he says as he looks around your office, retrieving your key card from the desk next to you before walking over to the storeroom and taking out the statue he had spoken about before and placing it on the desk next to you before taking his place between your legs at your entrance again.

He places both hands on your hips as he lines himself up with your slick cunt and slowly pushes inside of you. His uniformed chest rising and falling as he struggles to maintain his tenuous control over himself. The feeling of his girth stretching you open has you gritting your teeth, and screwing your eyes shut. Each ridge of his cock rubbing perfectly against every nerve making you see stars.

You’re both panting as he bottoms out, a low rumbling groan coming from deep in his chest as the feeling of your walls choking his length has him gritting his teeth as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer, even deeper.

He lets out a hiss as he begins moving his hips, you resist the urge to close your eyes at the pleasure, wanting to watch each reaction you could earn from the usually pristine grand admiral. Watching the way his jaw clenches, the muscles around his neck tensing, the way his nostrils flare as he struggles to maintain his composure is like a drug to you.

You moan as his thrusts begin to become more forceful, the sound of flesh against flesh filling the confines of your office. He leans over your body, his lips finding yours again as his hips move with more purpose, harder and faster, the ridges of his girth causing you to cry out, his mouth swallowing your sounds as his pace continues to get more intense, more passionate.

He brings one of his hands down in between your bodies, his long, skilled fingers expertly finding your clit, drawing tight circles over it as he pounds relentlessly into you. The sensations becoming too much too quickly as another orgasm begins building in your core, your muscles tensing around him as your walls flutter and tighten, forcing his mouth to part from yours as he lets out a low moan of your name.

Hearing his voice, full of hunger and desperation moaning your name is what does it for you, pleasure cascades through your body as you wrap your arms around his back to ground you, the course texture of his uniform heightening the experience as wave after wave of pure ecstasy rips a harsh moan of his name from your lips.

His pace becomes even more forceful, his hips slamming almost painfully against yours as he chases his own high. His mouth finds your neck again, biting down as you feel his muscles tense, letting out a long low groan against your neck as he finishes inside you. You feel each throb and pulse of his cock as he fills you, his hips moving in short thrusts as he rides out his own high, his breathing ragged.

You both stay there, panting, bodies entwined as you come down. He gives you a long, passionate kiss before extracting himself, pulling out slowly, he looks down at your cunt, his cum slowly beginning to leak out of you and his mouth quirks again, into that ghost of a smile, like he’s proud of himself, before he moves your panties back into place and begins to straighten himself out.

You have no idea what to say as he tucks himself away and smooths his hair, after a short time, he looks immaculate yet again, barely a hair out of place, nor a crease on his uniform, meanwhile you look like well fucked mess, hickeys and love bites litter your neck and chest as you move off your desk on unstable legs to grab your bra and dress, you pause as you see the small statue, the ‘Pwriss’ as Thrawn had called it sitting on your desk. You blush as you move to put it away in the storeroom again.

Thrawn is standing, back straight as he looks at you from across your office, hands clasped behind his back. “I appreciate you taking the time to show me the artwork the gallery has to offer” he inclines his head politely “I’m glad the sculptures were to your liking” you smile at him as you redress.

“Oh yes, I suppose the sculptures were lovely too”.  

Not tagging my usual Crosswhore taglist because IDK how many of you are interested in Thrawn, but I'm tagging some people I think might be interested. Let me know if you don't want me to tag you in the future.

@khapikat222 @vibratingbonesbis@al-astakbar

[luvfy0dor]

“Kissing in Cars and Downtown Bars...♡” Dazai Osamu x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; References to BSD Wan, implications of future driving while intoxicated but it doesn't actually happen (still don't do that shit)

Description; Dazai brings you to Bar Lupin and shares memories with you

A/n; chat don't let me flop I love y'all ♡ Also, i googled the menu for the actual bar and used drinks from that for reader

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Hearing Dazai speak was like music to your ears, you loved how smooth his voice was and hearing him talk about his favorite things. He talked to you a whole lot about his port mafia days and Bar Lupin, sharing stories of him, Oda, and Ango getting drinks there. He still likes to visit every now and again, and he thought it would be nice to share such a significant place with you. So, he helped you put on your jacket and out the door you two went, hopping in his car and speeding through the dark evening towards Bar Lupin.

Dazai parks the car in a nearby lot, giving the two of you the chance to walk down the street for a little while. Your fingers are interlocked as you lean into him, chit chatting as the sound of your footsteps and voices echo throughout the dim alleyway. You can see the sign illuminating the side of the building in the distance, making you smile with excitement. Dazai has always spoken so highly of it, so you were rather giddy to get the experience. He opened the door, holding it and allowing you in first. It gives you a solid second to take in the atmosphere of the Bar Lupin; letting you appreciate the way the lights cast a soft glow over the wood of the bar and stools. The way the glasses shimmer as they sit upside down also catches your eye. Dazais hand lands on your waist as the bartender flashes you both a welcoming smile and greets you.

"Ah, Dazai! It's been a while, hasn't it?" The bartender says. Dazai nods and escorts you to a barstool. "It sure has! How have you been?" He makes small talk with the older man while you both situate. Your eyes scan over the drink options, finding the Botanist-Martini rather intriguing. You hold Dazais hand as he chit chats briefly. "Well then, the usual for you, Dazai?" He nods, turning to you. "Have you decided what you want?" He asks you, his thumb rubbing circles into your hip. "Yeah, can I get the Botanist-Martini?" The bartender nods and gets to making the drink for you.

"Oda and Ango used to come here with me all the time. I remember we once made New Year's cards here." He reminisces, smiling at the memory. "I messed up a couple of my cards. I remember I ran out of space on one so I just sent that one to the boss at the time." He says as the bartender hands him his glass of whiskey. You chuckle quietly, nodding as he told you the story. "That sounds like a lot of fun. Was it a tradition?" You ask, watching the suited man making your martini. He shakes his head, swirling the drink in the glass. "No, I just decided I wanted to make them one day." He thinks for a moment. "Surely you've made some New Years cards before." He says, a hint of questioning in his voice before he nods. "Yeah, I have. I always want to but i tend to forget." You tell him as your drink is placed in front of you.

His finger brushes over the rim of his glass as he hums. "Well maybe we should make some together." He flashes a small grin at you. "That would be fun, wouldn't it?" You nod, sipping on the drink delightfully, surprised by the quality and taste of the liquid. "It would." You smile and set the glass down, the clinking sound echoing through the bar as it collides gently with the wooden countertop. "Anything is immediately funner when I get to do it with you." You happily say, your eyes averting from his to the bartenders body, his back to you. "Oh yeah?" He says teasingly. You nod and briefly pull him in for a peck on the lips. His lips curl upwards as he returns it, grabbing your face and pulling you in further before you can pull away, making you quietly gasp in surprise. He does let you go after a second, making sure the bartender doesn't catch your acts of pda. You can't help but feel your cheeks burn up a little with slight giddyness as your thoughts become flooded by the event.

And the memory lingers in the back of your mind as you pay the bill and thank the bartender, and even as you're walking out the door. Dazais hand is warm in yours while the two of you still down the side walk again, heading to the familiar shiny, black car. The two of you share giggles and playful jokes as you get closer to the automobile. He opened the passenger side door for you and closed it once you were in, speed walking around the front of the car to the driver's side

A/n; Folklore themes are heavy recently bc I just got my folklore piano book don't play 🙏

[campingwiththecharmings]

Hush (2)

PART 1

AN: Y'all, I have a Poe Problem™️ 😭lol @my-secret-shame, inspiration struck! (it actually struck twice tbh, I had two ideas for this and couldn't choose so you all get a part 3 lol).

(Un-beta’d)

PWP in which you try to teach Poe how to be quiet during sex.

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 1,542 (yeah, this is twice as long as the first one. what of it?) Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader Warnings: oral sex, p in v, kissing, cursing, slight creampie (please let me know if i missed anything) AO3

——————

Poe Dameron’s never been one to stay quiet, but that’s especially true during sex. You don’t mind, you love it actually, but after the last time, you hadn’t been able to stop teasing him about it.  

“You gonna teach me, sweetheart?”  

Turns out he’d been serious. 

“You sure you still wanna do this, Poe?” 

“Hell yeah. Get up here, baby.” 

You sniff a laugh, hooking your fingers in your underwear. You pull them down and let them fall, stepping out of them and toward the bed. Your bra follows, making a dull thump as you throw it to the floor. Poe’s gaze slides appreciatively down your body once you bare yourself to him, his tongue sweeping across his plush lips. Arousal pools in your belly at the action, chewing your lip as you crawl up the bed. 

He hums when you kiss him, hands skating over your bare skin and coming to rest on your hips. When you slip your tongue in his mouth, he moans, pulling you flush against him. You chuckle, leaning back a little to meet his eyes. 

“If this is an indication of how well you’re going to do once we actually start, maybe you should just give up now.” 

He clicks his tongue and leans in, his mouth hovering. “Don’t you worry about me, sweetheart.” 

You press a quick kiss to his lips and pull back, chuckling when he tries to follow you. “Easy, tiger.” 

“Get on up here then,” he breathes, squeezing your backside. 

He lays down fully on the bed, a small smile on his lips as he pumps his eyebrows at you expectantly. Your skin heats a little as you crawl up his body, moving so your knees are positioned on either side of his head. His hands grasp your thighs as you settle yourself over him, his fingers idly caressing your skin. 

“Still sure you wanna do this?” you ask, looking down to meet his eyes. 

He smiles, eyes already black with arousal. “Very sure.” 

“Okay,” you chuckle breathily, grasping the headboard with both hands. “Remember: you make any noise, we stop.” 

The awkward salute he does from between your legs makes you snort, distracting you from the nerves swirling in your belly. You know there’s no reason to be nervous, he’s had his head between your thighs more times than you can count at this point, but it feels different for some reason this time.  

“Whenever you’re ready, Commander.” 

He breathes in slowly through his nose, wetting his lips as he gazes greedily at your cunt. After a moment, there’s a gentle pressure on your hips as he pulls you down to his mouth. You inhale sharply at the first swipe of his tongue through your folds, your hips jerking a little. 

Almost immediately, he moans, but stops himself about halfway through. Regretfully, you lift yourself off him with a huff, meeting his eyes with a raised brow. 

“Really?” 

He shrugs awkwardly, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “Sorry. False start.” 

You snort, shaking your head as you let him lower you back over his mouth. He swipes his tongue through your folds again, this time slower, the warm muscle seeking every spot he knows drives you crazy. He teases you with the tip, softly flicking at your clit, and swirling around the edges of your entrance. You groan, your muscles relaxing a little as you arch your back. The pleasure builds quickly and soon you're grinding yourself against his face, his nose nudging your clit as he laps at your hole with his tongue. You gasp, his fingertips digging into your hips, and you smile a little, knowing just how much he probably wants to moan and groan against your pussy right about now.  

When he covers your clit with his lips and sucks, you gasp, throwing your head back, your fingers clenching on the headboard. You grind harder against his mouth, a shiver racing through your body as you near your peak. 

“Fuck,” you whine, chewing your bottom lip as the pleasure twists in your gut. “Don’t stop, Poe. Please. I’m so close.” 

His fingers clench on your hips at your words, and you know he’s struggling to contain himself. He loves when you’re vocal, loves when you whine for him, when you’re desperate for him. Clit still between his lips, he flicks at it lightly with his tongue. You whimper, the tension coiling in your gut, your thighs trembling on either side of his head. His hands are like a vice on your hips, fingers digging into your skin and another shiver of pleasure runs through you at the thought that he’ll probably leave a few bruises behind.  

One more flick has you coming with a choked moan, your fingernails digging into the headboard, the walls of your cunt clenching and fluttering around nothing. His lips are still wrapped around your clit, his tongue gently prodding it, prolonging your pleasure, making you shake a little at the intensity of it.  

When you become too sensitive, he releases you, sliding down the bed and out from under you. Releasing the headboard, you slump forward against the pillows with a sigh. You feel the heat of him at your back, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your hips. He presses a kiss against your spine, whispering your name. 

“How’d I do, baby?” he asks softly, pressing another kiss into your shoulder blade. 

You scoff into the pillows and feel his lips curl into a smile as he chuckles against your skin. 

“I always was a fast learner,” he gloats, mouthing at the curve of your shoulder, his hands ghosting up your sides. 

You pull your face from the pillows long enough to grunt and say, “Humble as usual, I see.” 

He chuckles again, and the sound is husky as he nips at your ear. “So, when can I claim my reward, Teach?” 

You snort, pushing your ass back against him and eliciting a groan. His hands palm your hips again, lips dragging along your neck.  

“Go ahead, flyboy,” you breathe, breath catching when he nips at your skin. “You did good for your first lesson.” 

He hums as he sucks a mark into your skin, his hand reaching forward to palm your breast. “Sure you’re ready for me, sweetheart?” 

You moan softly, nodding as you arch into his touch, one of your hands winding behind you and delving into his thick hair.  

Not one to be told twice, he takes himself in his hand and slowly enters you from behind. His moan is choked as you clench around him, his face buried against the back of your neck. You whine as you adjust to his size, your fingers tightening in his hair. When he starts to move, it’s a little sloppy, and he already sounds completely wrecked as he moans with almost every snap of his hips. He whispers in your ear about how good you feel, how he wishes he could stay inside you forever, groaning every time your tight cunt flutters around his hard length. It doesn’t take him long to come, already worked up from his time between your legs, but when he does, it’s hard and loud, his jaw slack as he spills his warmth into you with a moan.  

Poe leans heavily against you, trying to catch his breath, dragging his nose up your neck. He kisses you behind the ear and you sigh, your fingers still fisted in his hair. His softening cock is still buried inside you, and you clench around him, making him groan.  

“Can you give me another one?” he rasps, his fingers sinking between your legs and gently circling your clit. 

You whine, so sensitive, the pleasure was almost too intense. Poe gently churns his hips, brushing against your inner walls, his warm seed dribbling out a little with every move. He kisses the side of your neck as you lean back against him, your body quivering as he brings you higher and higher. Your orgasm is soft, but somehow still intense, flooding your body with a gentle tingling as Poe works you through it. You slump against him when it passes, your body exhausted.

He gives you a moment before he slips out of you, pulling you down to lay with him on the bed. His chest is pressed against your back, his arms wrapped around you loosely as you shift in his hold, snuggling down into the pillow beneath your head. Poe presses a kiss between your shoulder blades before burying his face there, his curls tickling your skin.

“So,” he says finally, his voice slow and syrupy as sleep begins to pull at him. “That was just my first lesson, huh?” 

You snort, closing your eyes and melting into him as he hooks his chin over your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer.  

“Because I really think I could benefit from another lesson,” he continues, smile evident in his voice as he softly kisses your neck. 

“Okay,” you hum, eyes and limbs heavy as you begin to drift off. “Let’s start practicing now.” 

He sniffs, tucking his nose beneath your ear as his drowsiness finally catches up with him. “You got it, sweetheart.”

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

i am no longer doing a taglist. please follow @charmingupdates for updates and turn on notifications.

[always-andromeda]

Grim Grinning Ghosts || Timothy Klitz x Fem!Reader

Timothy Klitz x Fem!Reader

Word Count || 4,562

Summary || When Klitz gets confronted at a Halloween party, he tells a lie that spirals out of control. Perhaps this lie can convince him...maybe Halloween isn't so bad after all.

Author’s Note || someone tell me why I suddenly went so feral for this loser? actually, don't tell me. sometimes my brain just fixates on him for little moments and then we get filth like this. enjoy, y'all.

Warnings || smut (MDNI), handjob (male receiving), Klitz is a silly little loser, nothing else I can think of!

Timothy Klitz might not be afraid of ghosts. But he sure as hell is afraid of parties. High school parties, at that. He doesn't remember Halloween being nearly this terrifying when he was younger. Kids had always been mean, that was one thing he could depend on. As long as he wore some nerdy costume, he was sure that he'd face some sort of ridicule.

But high school added a whole new layer. He quickly discovered that when a freshman dresses up as Neo from the Matrix, the Seniors would not hesitate to throw cheese puffs at said scrawny freshman, in hopes that he'd be able to dodge them from a dozen different angles.

Sophomore year wasn't much better. Even though his mother had tailored Jedi robes that fit him perfectly, Klitz couldn't escape scattered comments from drunk upperclassmen that repeated the dreaded line, "I don't like sand. It's coarse and rough and irritating. And it gets everywhere!"

He almost gave up completely during Junior year. Klitz never did get his hat back that night; one of the seniors snatched it from off his head and it got passed around the whole night. That had been bad enough. Until he made a complete fool out of himself when he tripped over the comically large scarf, tumbling right into a table of refreshments. That old coat he wore that had once belonged to his grandfather still sat buried in the back of his closet, covered in nacho cheese stains he hadn't been able to get out. 

Yet, here he is, a fully grown Senior, mere months away from becoming a Yale man and still he's pushing his luck in a Ghostbusters jumpsuit. Proton pack in hand and particle accelerator backpack firmly strapped to his back, Timothy Klitz dares to challenge the odds. He's lived through plenty of mortifying Halloweens before; what's one more?

Where he fits in, Klitz never has a clue. Matt had practically tethered himself to Danielle's side on the living room couch, making sure that every guy at the party knows that the girl in the slutty cheetah costume is his. Klitz would've normally stuck with Eli, awkwardly sipping on drinks with him while watching the action. But Eli scampered off...somewhere. Klitz isn't sure about that either. Knowing him though, he probably saw a pair of tits and went running in that direction.

Holding his red Solo cup awkwardly, he sniffs the drink he'd picked up in the kitchen on his way outside for some air. Beer. Cheap beer. He scrunches his nose up and turns the cup to its side, dumping the liquid down onto the grass below him. It was more useful like that.

Only a few people were outside with him. A handful of guys played ball on the grass while a couple girls sat on the lounge chairs by the pool. One of them looks up in his direction and doesn't even try to hide her nasty smile or obnoxious cackle at his costume. She turns to one of her friends seated beside her and begins to whisper something to her.

This was such a mistake, he thinks, I hate this fucking holiday. Before he has a chance to see or hear what the girls have to say about him, he swirls around in the grass, getting ready to flee for his life. If he finds Eli in time, maybe he can pull him away so they can go home. Klitz suddenly isn't in the mood for any ghosts or ghouls of Halloweens that have since passed to come back to haunt him.

That's when he spots you. Sitting on the steps, directly underneath the yellow light bulb that illuminates the back porch is you. You, practically glowing and sparkling right in front of him. There aren't enough words in English to describe how his heart began to pound at the sight of you. A fluffy tulle skirt spills over your knees and you seem to be covered in some sort of iridescent lace that makes your limbs sparkle. Then there's wings; wings that stick out from behind you and frame your angelic figure. 

And then it hits him, you're an angel. You're an honest to god, real life angel right in front of him.

"Hey, beanpole, what the fuck are you staring at?"

Snapped back to reality, Klitz drops the cup in his hand and his head snaps toward the guy now walking towards him. He's dressed in a long, dark cloak and a hood pulled up over his head. But Klits can clearly see his expression, irritated and ready to raise his voice at a moment's notice.

This is it. Her boyfriend is the grim reaper and he's going to kill me.

Death gets closer and points at his chest, vaguely in the direction of where his heart is beating out of his chest under his ribcage. "Are you her boyfriend or something?"

Klitz, frozen in fear, is still able to realize the truth of the matter fairly easily. Death isn't your boyfriend. Death is just an asshole that thinks he can police what beanpoles like him get to do.

So Klitz puts on the strongest voice he can muster. "Yes. I-I-I am."

Death grins cruelly. "Let's see about that, shall we?"

Pounding heart sinking into the pit of his stomach, Klitz's face visibly falls too. The look of bewilderment that forms on him makes Death chuckle before turning to where you still sit on the porch, barely paying attention to how Klitz is now fighting for his life.

Death yells to you, "This beanpole over here says he's your boyfriend?" As accurate as the description is, it still stings more than Klitz would like it to.

Time seems to slow as he sees you stand for the first time, revealing all of your celestial beauty as you float across the lawn to where he lingers. Still, he waits for the same heinous cackle he heard from the girl by the pool to burst through them, shattering the illusion that you're an angel; his angel. He watches you contemplate, practically seeing how you're working the situation out in your head.

He's adorable. That's the first thought you have. Then there's the second: and pathetic. He looks like he's begging to be put out of his misery. He's a little nerd who bit off a little more than he could chew. You nearly giggle while studying his costume for a few seconds. The khaki jumpsuit hides very little of his lanky figure. He's a tall glass of nectar that you'd like to drink up with one sip. Even though you thought it would be cute, being an angel for the night, you felt like doing something terrible to this boy.

Klitz feels guilty for thinking it, but one thought runs through his head: Is this girl dumb? It wouldn't be the first time he came across a girl at his high school who was gorgeous but possessed the intellectual range of a rock. It doesn't matter though. Klitz is sure that even the dumbest girl alive would still reject him. No one would--

"Um, yeah? And what's the problem with that?" Cocking your head and furrowing your brow, your beautiful mouth had finally opened.

"Wait, so what you're saying is…is that this kid…" Death takes Klitz by the shoulder and shakes him. "This kid is your boyfriend?" 

You simply nod this time. Maybe she used all of her brain power with that last sentence. Klitz internally smacks himself, putting a firm cork on the negs at your expense. Dude, this girl just saved your ass from probably being pummeled. Now's not the time.

Death looks confused, eyeing you up and down as if he was giving you a moment to get to the punchline too. But it doesn't come. You smile. And Klitz feels lighter than air.

"Okay...if you say so. Have fun with him." laughs through his nose with a look of disgust before walking off towards the rest of his friends.

"Thanks!" you chirp. Before Klitz has a chance to say a word edgewise, you take a hold of his sweaty palm. Your voice lowers as your gaze shifts to him, "How about we go inside? Find somewhere to talk."

Bringing him back through the screen door at the porch, you lead him past drunk party goers that are scattered throughout the home. Klitz is dumbfounded and so are the few people lining the upstairs hallway. He knows immediately how ridiculous he must look being dragged around by this little angel, an angel who is obviously way out of his league.

Over and over again, he tells himself, this is just a dream. He's not actually at the Halloween party. It's the night before the party and he's lying in bed. His subconscious is simply crafting a worst case scenario just for him to experience. When a loser like him tries to fit in, the universe humbles them. How you plan to deliver that humbling, he can't even begin to guess.

You wiggle doorknobs as you walk down the upstairs hall, staying calm until you get to one that opens for you. You scowl when you realize that it's a bathroom. A tiny bathroom. The light is unflatteringly dim and there's barely enough room for much else besides the bare necessities: a shower, toilet, and a countertop with only a little space that isn't reserved for the sink.

You curse whoever designed this floor plan before sighing, "This'll do."

Klitz feels like he's a million miles away from his being when he questions "What will do?" But you don't grace him with any sort of answer.

Hopping up on the counter, you spread your legs and pat the space on the counter between them. You don't say it but he can hear your honeyed tone reverberating through his skull: come here.

Following the directions of the little voice, Klitz shuffles towards you, eyes averted. He has no clue where to focus them. Certainly not at the dip between your legs that hides beneath the tulle skirt. Certainly not at your chest which is close to eye level for him. And certainly not your eyes. Because he's sure that the second he stares into those sparkling eyes, they'll turn into a demonic crimson fire that scorches him. Already he believes you'd have the power to reduce him to ash.

You'd smile sweetly once more before stepping over the dusty pile of his remains, kicking his proton pack aside with a sneer. He never stood a chance in the first place.

So he stares at a random freckle that he finds on your skin. He keeps it at the front of his mind as he asks slowly, "Why did you lie?"

"About what? The boyfriend thing?"

"Yes," Klitz lowers his voice to a whisper, "The stupid boyfriend thing."

Your giggle plays like a melody. "I thought it would be funny."

That makes Klitz's head shoot up, blood coursing through his veins. You weren't dumb at all. You were just mean. You were playing with him the entire time. Which was probably far worse than if you'd just rejected him outright. He would've found some other way to recover and stroke his ego. With this...there was something different begging to be stroked.

It flusters him and has him sputtering for the words to express his frustration, "Y-you-- you thought it would be funny? To just humiliate me? To lie about that?"

Raising a finger, you start harshly, "Listen to me, kid, I'm not the one who lied first so you can hop off of your high horse and--"

Klitz cuts you off, hating the nasally whine in his voice, "I'm not a kid."

"You sure are acting like one," you cross your arms and lean back. Kiltz's eyes move to your chest, deliberately on display as you glare at him like he's a child. You're almost stunned that you got a nerd like him wrangled into a bathroom and he wasn't on you immediately. It baffles you entirely. But it intrigues you. As much as you don't like arguing with him, it gives you more to work on. You like his sense of pride and the little bit of ego that keeps him from faltering too much. It’s better when there’s tension, you reason with yourself, he’s not one of those assholes just dying to get a feel.

Eyes raising to finally meet yours, he states nervously, "I'm not a kid. I'm a...I am a grown man."

You try your best to hold back another laugh, not wanting to set him off again. You've learned your lesson, he won't be so easy. "Then what do I call you, grown man?" you test out a little tease.

It's a taunt that he takes lightly, thank goodness. "Klitz," then he whispers shamefully, "with a K."

For some reason, that doesn't make you laugh. More than anything else, it feels like a sign. One from your fellow angels above that encourages you to keep going. How often do you get a sign so direct?

"Really? Well, okay, Klitz with a K,” you venture a little further, “What if I didn't want what I said to be a lie?"

This startles him. The lie and the counter maneuver was nothing in comparison to this revelation. "What?"

"Now don't you play dumb on me. A geek like you should be able to read between the lines at least a tiny bit."

You're one to talk about playing dumb, he thinks to himself. In your own way, you do make him burn up. Only these are the flames of embarrassment. Who were you to imply that he was playing any sort of game? 

Still suspicious, he presses his luck. "Why wouldn't you want it to be a lie?"

"I will say...I do like a man in uniform." Hand grazing the front of his jumpsuit, sparks dance in his belly. You're so close to touching his skin that it drives him nuts. As your finger traces over one of the zipper pockets over his chest, he lets out a low, broken moan. He hardly even realizes that he made the sound until he catches your smile again, this time he thinks he sees it curl with malice.

Klitz panics. This is just another part of your game. You're still playing. "If you're just going to mess with me then I might as well go." He begins to back away. "Thanks for nothing."

Your offending hand floats down to rest on his hip. The little amount of pressure keeps him anchored in place in front of the counter. For a second he worries that the single touch will actually make him completely blow a gasket and collapse to the ground. It's all he thinks of. The small force it took to completely own him. If this is even half of what Matt feels when Danielle touches him, Klitz suddenly understands why he lets her keep him on a short leash. Klitz wouldn't ever want to stray from you either. He wants you on his shoulders all the time, the radiant angel from the back porch and the alluring devil that now sits before him.

He doesn't mean for it to happen, but he leans towards you. You seem to pull him in with some strange gravitational pull and suddenly...his face is closer to yours than it's ever been. So close that he can make out individual holographic glitter specks on your glossy lips. Maybe that's what made them so inviting in the first place. Your skirt rustles as you slide forward a little on the counter, pressing into his body more.

"Don't go." You plead gently, "I think you're really cute. And the proton pack...it's a nice touch."

He murmurs, "You know what a proton pack is?"

"Duh. Ghostbusters came out like what, twenty years ago? Of course I've seen it." Your half lidded eyes flicker to his lips.

He feels your thumb slowly run over his bottom lip. "Yeah, it's just that...most girls haven't--"

You cut him off and pull his bottom lip down, watching intently when it snaps back into place. "Don't finish that sentence."

"Okay..." he's hesitant to fully let go of his inhibitions as you lean in too. "But, wait, you're drunk..."

You pause. "I'm not drunk." Then spare a look in his eyes once more, "Are you?"

He blinks rapidly for a few seconds before remembering that he has to answer. "No..."

And then there you are once more, gaze flickering between his glazed over green eyes and his lips, parted slightly in a dopey expression. Like he can hardly believe he's survived this long. "Good." You conclude, before diving right into him.

No more words are left in his mouth anyways. Just saliva as he realizes that he'll probably savor the feeling of your lips on his for the rest of his life. Your mouth is almost sickly sweet with the taste of artificial strawberry but the stickiness of your gloss keeps him in place for a few seconds longer than he should.

Letting your hand entangle with the hair at the nape of his neck, he moans once more when you pull slightly; just enough to get him to open up and let your tongue weave its way in. You let him mewl and cry into your mouth as your hands roam. With your eyes closed, you feel around his chest for the zipper of the jumpsuit.

As soon as he feels the cool air of the bathroom hit his bare chest, Klitz struggles to pull away, taken aback by the boldness of your actions. He looks down at the pale, unblemished, and lanky chest that he's found fault in for practically his whole life. He'd expected to fill out a little more as he got older. Instead, he just got taller; he stretched out until he felt like a funhouse image of a pathetic, ugly boy.

But you look longingly at his smooth chest. Forget the smears of slightly tinted lip gloss that shines on his face from where you'd kissed him; you have new expanses of skin to admire.

Hand reaching out, your thumb rubs over one of his pink and pebbled nipples. He shivers like a decaying leaf in a fall breeze. You continue downwards and hook your hand around his waist. As you drink up his figure, you notice the soft pudge of his belly, rising and falling unsteadily with each jagged breath he takes. Just below that, you see something that makes your eyes go wide.

Under his stomach, you find the waistband of his stark white underwear. You're sure a guy like him probably bleaches the hell out of them; probably has the days monogrammed into the back so when he does the laundry every week, he knows if he's missing a pair. The assumption fills you with a renewed fondness when you notice the bulge beneath the waistband. And it's fucking huge.

Now you make an assumption that you are completely sure of: you're probably the first to touch him. Because he would be far cockier if he knew exactly what he was carrying in that dorky pair of underwear. And, god, you're glad that you're the first. You're glad that you've discovered him now when he's so new to this, so nervous that he's practically vibrating.

"Do you want me to touch you, sweet boy?" You coo gently.

The idea of someone else's hand on him...he has to stop himself from moaning again. His breath is heavy when he replies, "Do you want to touch me?"

And you answer like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Like the prospect would be a privilege for you. "Oh, Klitzy, I would love to touch you."

He's not sure what he had in mind before, but this seems good enough. He's hardly thinking about anything important when you reach down into his underwear, pushing them down just enough so that they stay underneath his balls, keeping him vulnerable to you. There's no doubts or second guesses or protests. Not even when he looks down and sees the tip of his cock, almost shamefully swollen, red, and already leaking fluid.

Seeing him fully exposed like this only endears you to him even more. You've known this guy for less than an hour and you wish he was above you. You wish that he was kissing your neck and wildly rutting into you, hitting all of the right spots without even trying.

You wish that his large hands would grope at your chest, using your flesh to brace himself for release. You want him raw and wild and untrained, spilling inside of you within seconds and leaving cum dripping down your thighs. You want him to stain the white tulle so that you can smile every time you catch a glimpse of it hung up in your closet. You want to remember the slap of his skin against yours and feel the ache between your legs all over again looking at it. You want all of it and more until you're brought back to the sight of his cock, bobbing impatiently.

As much as you want him, you won't make him fuck you in a dingy bathroom at a Halloween party. A proper angel wouldn't do that to the poor boy. But a proper angel wouldn't let him stand there whimpering either. His elbows begin to wobble nervously with his hands planted on either side of your body on the countertop. He's so patient. Just waiting for you to decide whether you'll have him or not.

So you clench your thighs together and ignore the way you throb when your hand fully wraps around his cock. It's easily the fullest thing about him, so large and thick and lined with intense veins that you can only picture it splitting you open. No. That's not happening right now, you assure yourself and push the image from your head.

Klitz focuses on your hand. There's nothing else he really can focus on. Head tilted back and eyes fluttering closed, he takes in the softness of your hand and the way you're so delicate with him. He only winces when your thumb rubs over the slit of his sensitive tip. The simple movement sends little shockwaves through his body. They only multiply when you use his pre to wet his cock and begin to slowly, gradually jerk him off.

The coil that twists in his belly is so tight that he's sure it'll break with even the smallest bit of pressure. You'd done something irreparable to him. Maybe it's the hit from early that makes him especially dizzy. He doesn't dwell on it though. There's no way he could when you nip at his neck and your tongue drags over his pulse. He can't help but get lost in the scent of your hair as you mark him up and the faint, languid smack of your hand stroking his slick cock. 

You hum softly by his ear before you open your mouth, "I want you to come when I tell you to, okay, baby?"

Your words are so soft, filled with a nauseating sappiness that makes him believe that your outfit isn't just a Halloween costume. You're really his guardian angel, here to give him a handjob to make up for all of his high school troubles. This was his reward for trying so hard year after year and persisting through the taunting and teasing: a pretty girl slowly stroking him and a climax threatening to send him completely over the edge.

He shakes his head desperately, hating that he has to wait but still willing to. He'd never been able to do this to himself anyways. Your hand was small enough that it rubbed over his length torturously; giving him little ebbs of pleasure but just falling short from bringing him completely to heaven.

"Good boy. Very good boy," you praise him. A beautiful array of whimpers and whines spill from his lips, marred and glittery from your kisses. You thought you had looked pretty when you'd done your makeup hours before, but the look of his took the cake. With his mouth hanging open and eyebrows furrowed and focused on trying not to meet his end too quickly, you think he looks gorgeous.

The thought strikes you then that he must be some sort of angel too to let you have him like this. He doesn't beg to be inside you, doesn't beg for you to let him finish, he does what he's told and he does it well, showing you how you've unraveled him entirely. It's a divine ability that you're liking more and more.

You give him some wiggle room and order softly, "Go ahead, make yourself finish." At the simple command he seems to curl around you, grasping at your ass now instead of the countertop. He holds onto you as his hips buck into your fisted hand. His thrusts are sloppy and have no sort of rhythm; just pure lust as he chases his mounting orgasm.

When he sobs and squeezes his eyes shut, that's how you know he's closer than ever, so close that his knuckles go white from how hard he clenches the fabric of your dress.

His teeth are gritted together when you murmur, "C'mon, baby, I know you can do it. I want you to cum now."

One, two, three more uneven pumps later and he bursts completely into your hand, depositing thick ribbons of spend that land on the fabric of your dress. You laugh breathily, getting exactly what you wanted from him. You already can't wait to shove the costume into the back of your closet and keep it as a token of this experience.

You tease, "Looks like an angel just earned its wings." He has no clue if you're talking about yourself or him. Either way, he's got no doubt it applies. You did a good deed and he feels over the moon. Maybe you'll both get into heaven now. At least he hopes you'll be there too. He's yet to sink his face into the bouncy clouds of your thighs, yet to hear your glorious sigh, and yet to taste the nectar of your fruits. God, he wanted all of it and more.

Until the gates to heaven close with a devastating slam. You slip his softening and spent cock right back into his underwear and zip the jumpsuit back up for him, leaving him utterly speechless at the nonchalance and swiftness of your form of aftercare.

Then, you hop off the counter and pat his chest one last time before giving him a chaste kiss on his cheek. There's no more lip gloss left for you to leave behind on him; he's almost upset about it. Almost.

Because right after you glide past him and waltz out the door, shutting it behind you, Klitz finally has a chance to look up at himself in the mirror. Flecks of sparkly glitter remain on him. He reaches up to tenderly feel the chapped skin of his lips. That's how he knows it was all real. He was touched by his guardian angel.

[sergeantnarwhalwrites]

A splash of Saz's background and a splash of worldbuilding

Shhh yes I am typing straight into a tumblr post again from my phone at that. Call it dedication. Call it laziness.

Tag list: @outpost51 @nanashi23 @winterandwords @jezifster @kk7-rbs @aether-wasteland-s @dumbthunder @manathen @the-void-writes @livums @vacantgodling (Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!) 

The bear morpher huffed, taking the drink from Ian's hand. Knowing he was drunk enough to not hit her hand away in time. She took a sip from it and pushed past her nerves to ask the other three morphers nearby a question.

"How long have y'all fought?"

Julie laughed at Ian's quiet grumbling as he stumbled off to get another drink. They'd been camping in at Julie and Ian's quarters for awhile now it seemed. The crickets weren't chirping when they had first entered but were practically screaming now. Saz was sure they'd been drinking for a few hours now. But it was one of the few things they could all do together with little animosity.

The hagfish morpher answered first, "Fighting under the elder morphers? Since I had enough strength to throw a rock and make it hurt."

"I was pressured into it awhile ago." Ian responded with a sigh as he returned.

"I was basically drafted by the elder morphers. I didn't have a choice. So a couple years now I guess." Elliot said, quiet for the moment after losing over who'd control the music.

"I've been a wrestler for awhile. But none of the war tactics stuff under your belts." Saz stated.

Ian shrugged, "Wouldn't call it war tactics just yet. You didn't know about anything building and you lived with the humans."

That ripped a collective sound of aggravation from the hagfish and smaller deer at the thought. All this work and the shit was going unnoticed.

Julie tossed the pocket radio to Elliot, more like at Elliot, so he could change it, "Thought you were a smuggler?"

Saz grinned and nudged Elliot, "Aw so he did talk about me." She scratched at her scruff and scooched a little closer to Julie, "I was both. Smuggling people in and out got me my money."

Elliot chimed in now, "It's how I met her too."

Julie looked up at the bear morpher, "That how you made it into one of those human cities?"

Saz shook her head. Swirling the beverage in her hand before taking a long drink. The bear morpher tilted her head away from Julie, her locs following the motion.

"Adopted by some humans actually."

Ian and Julie's face both twisted. They'd heard horror stories from morphers about it for years. So many bullshit reasons. So much death. The occasional win, just for a kid to be shipped off as a lab rat. Or someone's living trophy. Hell the elder morphers had whispered about it amongst themselves when they thought no one could hear.

Elliot's eyebrows shot up, "You weren't born in a human city?"

Saz chuckled and shook her head, "Born on a morpher base in the outskirts. When there were still multiple I guess. Seems like it's just one or two now."

"And a human felt bad and plucked you from a dying parents arms," Julie stated.

"Or they were looking for children to toss to the labs and you just happened to fit. So they kidnapped you and made bank." Ian stated.

Saz simply shrugged, "Don't know. Just know they took a gamble because I could've shown a very obvious trait in five years." She gestured to the two deer morphers.

Elliot scratched at the antler that remained. Ian flicked his ears and looked away. Julie stretched and rested a hand on the two deer morpher's heads. Shoving Elliot when he chose a station she didn't like.

"Still impressive that you dodged animal control for so long," Julie said, a smile finding its way to her face.

Saz looked down at her nose and then to Julie, "I was just a kid the first time, I busted my face the second time, and got saved by you guys the third. Don't really know if that's a good job."

Julie sucked her teeth, bringing a knee to her chest, "What do you call making it out of a place that hate's monsters alive? Typical day?"

Saz finished off the drink in her hand in silence and rested her elbow on Julie's head. Careful not to rest all of her weight on the hagfish morpher.

"Typical day. Routine. Same thing, yeah." Saz said simply.

She rose to her feet with a groan. She needed a stronger drink.

[freesia-writes]

Chapter 18: Unrequited

During the Clone Wars, the Bad Batch is tasked with a variety of missions across the galaxy. An unexpected addition to their team throws a wrench in the mix, particularly for Tech, who finds a particular connection with this disillusioned Padawan-turned-mechanic named Vel throughout the events in this action-adventure romance. COVER ART BY @zaana!!

Master List of Chapters

Author's Note: this was my first fanfic ever, y'all! :D I can see all kinds of flaws and things I'd improve, but it's still a fun read, in my humble opinion! ;) I did have to edit a bit though -- the number of contractions in Tech's dialogue in the first edition had me shuddering! ;) And it's amazing to flesh it out a bit more now that I've seen all of TBB S2; this was written in the middle of it!

ALSO — a fantastic reader, @ghostperson69, suggested two songs that fit the vibe of this chapter: “Hole in the Earth” by Deftones and “Cloud Nine” by Evanescence. 😍

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

"Now," Terrik said, returning to Vel, "Perhaps you could use some fresh air?"

Her mind was racing, and she realized she hadn't actually thought through how to go about charming him once he actually did notice her. Thank the Maker, however, her prolonged silence worked in her favor, as Terrik took it as aloofness.

"I actually own the place," he said, in a thinly-veiled attempt to impress her. "There's a private garden balcony right outside where you can get a little break from all the riffraff that's been nipping at your heels all night." So he had noticed. She inclined her head a tiny bit, as if assessing him for a moment, before allowing a small smile.

"Lead the way," she said. He immediately offered her an arm, beckoning to a service droid as they strolled out of the dance hall and down a side hallway. Two large doors opened onto an elegantly curved patio that was filled with lush greenery. Trellises covered with creeping vines and purple flowers provided a living roof over the space, where exotic plants of all kinds reached toward the sky from their pots.

Vel inhaled deeply, calming herself with the rich array of floral scents. Terrik watched her chest rise with the breath, quickly averting his eyes when she looked back to him. A shiny black and gold service droid rolled out after them, carrying a spotless tray with an ornate glass bottle and two intricately carved glasses.

"Merenzane gold," Terrik said grandly as he poured a generous serving into each glass. He returned the bottle to the tray, took the two glasses, and offered one to Vel. She accepted it smoothly, alarm bells going off in her head, and watched as he waved the droid away. "Have you ever had it before?" he inquired casually.

"Of course," she said, swirling it in her glass but nearly spilling it out a side. She wasn't fooled by his question -- he was trying to determine if she came from money or was just trying to appear affluent. "But it's always a welcome sight. Although," she laughed lightly, "It often gets me into trouble."

"Well," he chuckled, "We'll have to make sure to keep an eye on you then, won't we?" He grinned at her, and she could tell it was the move that had melted an army of women before her. She needed to play it just right, leading him on just enough, and she gave a brief smile as she returned to her drink, taking a carefully small sip. She felt clumsy and tingly, and it took a disproportionate effort to keep her composure.

"There's plenty where that came from," Terrik continued, gesturing to her glass with his own and making a show of taking an exuberant swig. "No need to parse it out."

"I like to enjoy it," Vel said, cringing inwardly at the words that came to mind next, "You know, it's so smooth on the tongue. You miss out on that if you don't play with it a little bit first."

Terrik raised an eyebrow, although he was no stranger to this kind of talk. She was difficult to discern, however, and a refreshing change from the obvious, fawning sort he had become so accustomed to. He was never one to pass up an opportunity to connect with other well-to-do citizens, especially if the connection involved both money and pleasure.

She moved to the balcony railing and leaned on it gently, walking slowly to avoid stumbling and also to make her hips sway slightly more than usual. "So, what is it you do around here then?" she asked, putting a slight hint of boredom into her words as she waited for him to join her.

***

Tech lowered the macrobinoculars, laying on his stomach under the balcony railing, and turned to the team behind him. "They are engaged in conversation two floors below us," he reported, "But I am concerned about Vel's amount of inebriation. The attempt to blend in has resulted in more consumption than I believe she is accustomed to."

"This will be fun to watch then," Crosshair said silkily, leaning against the doorframe as he scanned the rest of the outside of the building.

"She'll be fine," Hunter said, "We just need to get into that lab."

"Why don't we just start trying doors?" Wrecker asked, sprawled on a lounge chair. "This is taking forever."

"We absolutely must avoid anything that could raise any suspicion," Tech responded, scooting back to peer over the edge at Vel and Jouren below them.

***

"A chemist! Really?" Terrik exclaimed, showing some genuine interest at Vel's made-up story. "And what did your father do in that field?"

"He worked for a refinery," Vel replied, finishing her glass of amber-colored trouble. "I used to love going to work with him and seeing all his potions. Especially the ones that would explode," she laughed, trying to balance the allure with just the right amount of brainlessness. It was becoming easier with each passing moment.

"Ah, a little evil scientist yourself, eh?" he teased, leaning closer to her now. "And what sort of nefarious plans did you concoct over the years?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," she answered lightly, tilting her head and demurely rubbing the back of her neck. He made no attempt to hide his gaze. "But I'm afraid I'd have to kill you if I told you my evil master plans." She had a quick internal argument over the ridiculousness of the whole situation, wishing she were still on the dance floor with Tech. 

"Well... we can't have that," Terrik crooned, placing a hand on her lower back. She stiffened for a moment before forcing herself to relax, tipping her chin up at him with an unfazed confidence. From the balcony above, Tech felt his stomach lurch, and his grip tightened on the macrobinoculars as he pondered the implications of his physical reaction.

"No?" she asked, forcing herself to lean into him gently, taking hold of his lapel with her fingers, "Well then what should we do for fun around here?"

"I have a few ideas," he mused, reveling in the feeling of having her on his hook. "But I have a feeling you won't be impressed by the usuals." He traced a finger along her jawline, coming to rest on her chin, "Why don't you come with me?"

He turned, beckoning toward the door, and walked beside her, leaving his hand on the small of her back, slightly lower than before. Tech watched them disappear inside the building, then rolled onto his back, springing to his feet at once.

"I do not like this, Hunter," he said emphatically. "There are simply too many extraneous variables to trust that this particular strategy is a secure endeavor."

"You just don't like someone getting their hands on your girlfriend," Crosshair needled.

"She is not my girlfriend," Tech countered, "But that Pantoran is exhibiting a dangerous level of manipulative behavior, and I find his intentions difficult to discern and equally unwise to trust."

"He's probably taking her to the lab right now," Hunter said. "As soon as she activates the marker, you can do your job and the rest of us can go get her if needed. It'll be fine. Just stick to the plan."

Tech resigned, feeling displeased and unsettled by the anxious protectiveness rising within. He pulled out his datapad, confirming the program was ready to go, and hung it on his belt at the ready. 

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[minhosimthings]

Hold Me Without Hurting Me

Chapter 2: Germanium and Gin

A/N: In which an old friend fills your life with flowers again, along a bumpy sided road.

Pairings: Ceo!Jay × Ceo!fem!reader, includes rest of Enhypen and certain other groups

Warnings: angst-fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to enemies to fake dating to enemies to lovers, Mentions of food and alcohol, swearing, nothing much but it's a bumpy story.

Story prompt: If I had a flower for every time I fell in love with you, I would walk in my garden forever. (This story is based on the language of flowers.)

A/N: second part y'all there ya go have her all to yourself. Im feeling kinda DEMOTIVATED by I still wrote it cause hot girl thangs. (It's actually depressed girl things but whatever) I'm currently writing both the third chapter and fourth chapter and once I finish both of them I'll post the third one. Cool bye love y'all.

SERIES MASTERLIST

"Hey Y/N." You had never expected the evening to go like this. Most of the times whenever you attended things like these, your words would be completely ignored and undermined by your fellow heads of companies, because apparently a woman has no right to power. But this time, they actually listened, hanging on to each word you said, like a child handing onto her teddy bear. And now here you were, alone in the meeting room, with Jay sitting opposite you. Everyone else had gone already and you had told Jungwon to go and sort out the paperwork with Heeseung, whom you had successfully joined businesses with.

"Mr Park there must be a reason as to why you asked me to stay back so please spit it out." Jay looked at you with a sad smile. His mind was swirling around and he couldn't wrap it around his brain that his best friend was currently sitting in front of him.

"Y/N, stop calling me that." He said, to which you scoffed. "Why? Isn't that your name." He glared at you and you glared back. If he was going to act like he hadn't left your heart broken, then so be it. "Y/N why are you acting like this?" You rolled your eyes and got up from your seat, swiftly moving towards the vases stuck to the walls. You plucked out some of the flowers, arranged them and threw them into Jay's lap. Germanium, Hydrangeas and Yellow Carnations. "Figure it out Jay. Just fucking figure it out." You left the room, leaving Jay speechless and slightly heartbroken.

"Ma'am? You really shouldn't drink that much." You were sitting in the bar along with Jungwon, who seemed very concerned. "Jungwon, what's the meaning of life?" You asked him, to which he silently took your glass away from you. "Ma'am we really shoul-" "WHAT IS LOVE?" you shouted out, startling the few people at the bar. Jungwon sighed heavily and hid his face behind his hands. "Is she ok?" A man crept up behind Jungwon. "I honestly don't know- Mr Park!" Jay was standing behind Jungwon, hands in his pocket and a bouquet in his hand. He looked over at you, slumping your head over the bar table and smiled. "I assume you are her assistant? Well would you allow me to take her up to her room? Suite 186 I believe?" Jungwon stood shocked with his mouth open and could do nothing but nod at Jay, who had already went over to you, putting his hand over your shoulder. "Y/N? My yarrow? Come on we have to go now. You're too drunk." "Jay?" You gasped and clapped your hands, "JAY! I MISSED YOU WHEN DID YOU COME HERE?"Jay chuckled at your behaviour and grabbed you by the waist. "Come on my yarrow. Let's go. Jungwon wasn't it?' he turned to a blushing Jungwon, "Could you come up later and give her this bouquet in the morning? Oh and give her basil water when she wakes up. It usually gets her out of her hangovers." Jungwon stuttered a yes and took the bouquet, turning back to the bar while Jay gently guided you to the elevator.

"Y/N? Hey. Hey woah!" Jay caught you before you fell to your knees. "Jay-" you whispered, letting the alcohol get to your system. "Yeah I'm here. I'm here." Jay whispered back, gently lifting you up and letting you support yourself on his shoulder.

Jay's heartbeat increased at an alarming rate as he gently put you on your bed. You looked so pretty, he thought, more prettier than you looked when he had left and as he brushed your hair out of your face, he felt a pang of regret hitting him. Of course you would give germanium and yellow carnations. You hated him with every cell of your body and you wanted him to know that. "Don't remember any of this in the morning alright my yarrow?" Jay gently kissed your forehead and left, gently closing the door behind you, leaving you in troubled sleep.

"Jungwon what the fuck." You breathed out. You were sitting in the living room with Jungwon whose eyes were on the verge of tears. "Ma'am he told me to give these to you. Mr Park." "Oh my fucking god." You slumped onto the sofa. This was definetly not how you were expecting your Friday morning to go. In your mind, you would have been cheerfully sipping a margarita along with Jungwon, and going to cat cafes. But the universe never really bent to your will, so here you were with a baby blue bouquet of pink carnations and forget-me-nots wrapped in a silk bow.

"Jungwon do we have another meeting tonight?" You put your hand up to your head, running your fingers through your hair, and untangling all the knots made in it, due to you sleeping with unmade hair last night. Jungwon checked his phone, quickly tapping his fingers against the glass. "Uh no ma'am. But-" he looked up at you sympathetically, "Mr Park has requested a meeting with you. Privately." You groaned as you picked up the coffee cup in front of you and sipped it. Well atleast something was bringing you comfort right now. "Oh and Ma'am, he has another request." Jungwon said, his face filled with worry. "Just spit it out Jungwon, I'm already dead." "He wants you to bring him flowers."

You adjusted the collar of your coat as you made your way up to the bar. You had met Sunoo and Sunghoon on the way, who seemed to have been catching up after not seeing each other for a long time. They gave you sympathetic smiles as you told them what had happened and advised you to just get it over with. But as you stood in the elevator, with a bouquet in your hand, you had the feeling in your stomach that this was definetly not going to get over quickly.

You stepped out the elevator and entered the bear to find hundreds of men and women sitting and drinking merrily. The smell of whiskey and lime juice hit your nose as your eyes searched for Jay. You spotted him sitting near the bartender in what seemed to be the center of the bar. He was wearing a blue polo shirt with white pants which tightly fit his legs. You bit your lip, to remind yourself that you are supposed to be angry at him.

"Jay." You swiftly sat down beside him. He raised his eyes from his glass to look at you and smiled gently. "You actually came?" He chuckled and called for the bartender. "Yes I did because I assumed you wanted to talk buisness." You stated, "I'll have a Gin and Tonic please, no ice with a bowl of cherries on the side." You said to the bartender, who quickly disappeared to get your drink. "You've changed you know that?" Jay's eyes averted to you again, as he sipped his drink. Whiskey, you assumed, judging from the strong scent coming from the crystal glass. "Well was I not supposed to?", you scoffed, "Was I supposed to remain the same girl that I had been seventeen years ago?"

Jay's eyes faltered for a moment, before he cleared his throat and looked at you firmly again. "I want you to collaborate with my company." You choked on the cherry you were eating as you heard his words. Jay patted your back a few times and as you stopped coughing, you turned your face up to see him smirking. "Do I fluster you that bad, my yarrow?" "Don't you fucking call me that." You slammed your hand on the bar, catching the attention of some of the people around you, "Give me one reason as to why I should collaborate with you." Jay smirked again and took a sip of his whiskey, calling for another glass, this time, on the rocks. "Because my yarrow-" he leaned forward, "You're collaborating with Heeseung anyways. And his company is sponsored by mine. So why not just directly do buisness with me?" He took one of your cherries and ate it, showing off his jawline in the process, "It's much more efficient Y/N."

You gritted your teeth in order not to get angry. But before you could bite back-

"Is this man bothering you pretty?" You felt someone's hand touch your back. Naturally you flinched at the touch and looked back to see one of the pig headed men at the meeting. An ugly personality, you thought, both inside and out. He was definitely not less than forty eight. "Um- no. We are just-discussing." You told the man, turning back to Jay, who looked like he couldn't care less about what was happening. "Why darling?" The pig man chuckled and lowered his hand down to your waist, "Tell me if he's bothering you. I can get you out of here. Got a lot of dough you know?" "Thank you, but I am ok." You stated, trying to keep your demeanor calm, "Could you please not touch me?" The man obnoxiously laughed again and only lowered his hand further, making you shout 'Hey!'. "Oh come one don't play hard to get. You little whor-" He didn't get the opportunity to finish his sentence however, as Jay got up from his seat abruptly and held the man by his collar, holding him against the bar. All the attention of the room was on you now.

"Perhaps I should phrase it better for you." Jay growled, gritting his teeth tightly, "You. Won't. Lay. A. Fucking. Finger. On. Her." He let go of the pig man, who fumbled with his words for a bit, before quickly scantering off towards the exit stairs. Jay turned to you after everyone stopped looking at both of you, and instead of seeing a thankful face like the one he was expecting, he saw one of anger.

"I could have handled that myself Jay. Why the fuck did you have to cause a scene?" Jay raised his eyebrows at your words. "Not even a fucking thank you for that? Wow you really did change." You scoffed at the words coming out of his mouth. You picked up the bouquet you bought and threw it at him. "There you go." Your words were laced with sweet venom, "Take the fucking bouquet you asked for. And don't you talk to me again, except for in the meetings got it?" You finished your glass of cold gin quickly, and went away, biting your tongue as you got into the elevator. Columbine, daisy, hydrangea and orange lily, Jay counted as he looked at the bouquet properly. A rather ugly combination, he thought, not in physicality but in the meaning. He looked down at his whiskey, and swirled it, gulping it down in one swift motion before heading out the bar, a plan formed in his mind.

[obsidiancreates]

Weighed Against

Kremy smacks his mouth as they walk, making a clacking noise that irritates his own ears. "I don' know how much that banana helped my tongue. How'd I even bite it that bad?"

"Well, you have incredibly sharp teeth," Frost points out.

"Well, so do you. You're a tiger." Kremy drawls the last word, gesturing a little for emphasis.

"Mmm." Frost gives Kremy a measured look. "Are you alright?"

"What?"

"From the ride."

"Oh, yeah, that. I uh-" The lie dies in his throat, the pact gripping his voice. "Well, Gricko's thing sorta balanced it out." Okay, not untrue. It was so absurd that Kremy could almost get over the feelings from the other thing.

Almost.

"Oh." Frost nods. "Good, good. I'm very proud of you for your realizing Remy was an illusion, by the way. I... worried it'd be too much to overcome."

"Oh, yeah, well, Weasel helped me through it a little. I think they're gone now, though. Either some fey bullshit or they just hopped on out."

"Still, I uh, didn't realize it was that severe, this Remy situation. Was that shadow and exaggeration by the ride?"

Kremy grips the skull of his cane. "Not even a little."

"Geez. ... I'm a little surprised, actually."

"By what?"

"Well, it's just... I think I heard you cry a little after mine."

"... You might've. Why's that shockin'? I do care about y'all, you know."

"No, I know." Frost looks at Gricko ahead of them. "You still thinking of Hootsie when we were getting those magnets, even when Gricko can't remember her and we don't know if we'll... if we'll get her back..."

Frost shudders, and Kremy's throat feels tight.

"And Gideon might be-"

"Let's stop talkin' about this, hmm?" Kremy begins to walk a little faster, even his shadow overtaking him and bending in a way unnatural to the shadows around them as it tries to escape the way he's feeling. The fear is stuck, clinging to him like his debts. The visions of bones and the feeling of emptiness swirl through his head, harsh and crashing, invading every attempt to just breathe.

Frost speeds up too. "I didn't mean to... upset you." He looks at Kremy again. "I didn't realize it was such a fear for you."

"Well... I didn't either." Kremy straightens his suit lapels, just to give his shaking hands something to do.

"... Does it scare you more than Remy does?"

One soul, five souls. One life, five lives. One path of hedonism, gleeful sinning, smooth words and easy lies but a downfall that's worse the more one rises up. Five paths of friendship, fresh gumbo by a campfire, stupid jokes and stupider carnival attraction plans.

One loss.

Five losses.

An inability to lie.

"It scares me about the same," Kremy says slowly. "... I still think GaRue wins out."

He'd probably be last. No gold, no paying back the debt, a failed attempt at an impossible task, all his fault. Hootsie left discarded as a beast and little more and Gricko screaming and sobbing before he's killed, Frost drugged and limp so he can't use his abilities, Gideon trying to fight more chains after Kremy promised he'd keep him form ever being shackled again, a promise he never even made a contract for because when they first met he didn't care enough to genuinely guarantee it-

And Kremy left to watch and know, it's his debts that did this.

"... Yeah. He's... a lot worse."

"Mmm." Frost's thoughtful hum is the closing of the topic as Kremy clears his throat and strides on.

This carnival is a nightmare. But what Kremy saw in there, that very possible future of a world without his friends, his little family...

Is worse.

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(This didn't turn out exactly as I'd hoped but it's been like a month since I wrote anything truly substantial so I'll give myself a pass. Anyway the point I was trying to get at is I liked how Kremy failed at overcoming Frost's fear and decided it means Kremy used to be afraid for himself, but now the idea of his friends in danger and hurt is even worse than the idea of him being in trouble.)