#Fan fic withdrawal

[aaronnaphiliou]

AO3 withdrawal

I had so many fics and updates I was going to finally get to since I wasn't feeling great... I have spent way too much time refreshing....

[caracwinters]

Flare Signal (by @queenangst/achievingelysium on AO3) Fic Binding Update #6

I LIVE AGAIN

For most people, one bind does not take this long. However I am a) a beginner and b) the physical embodiment of ADHD (so motivation is a lil hard to come by) (my poor friend has been waiting on her birthday gift for over a month now) (but it's fine)

Edge trimming did take ages as I predicted last time but it's DONE and it looks pretty decent considering I did it by hand with a wood chisel and a homemade press. Also finished reinforcing the spine & added headbands and bookmark!

AND I made the case today! First time using the foil quill pen I bought months ago (thanks to the good folks in the @renegadeguild discord server for the recommendation!) I kept the cover design very simple and didn't do anything on the spine or back, mostly because I didn't quite know how the pen worked yet and this was my last bit of red bookcloth so I was Very Scared of Messing Up

The phoenix design definitely isn't as perfect as it would be if I used a cricut, but for hand-drawn I think it looks p good so I'm happy with it

Making sure the case fits, not glued in yet (that's a job for tomorrow)

[demigod-of-the-agni]

My stupid little guys

Spider-Man Vol 2 #8

[books-and-dragons]

interesting to me that when ao3 goes down it's always 'number one trending topic', 'thousands of people talking about missing reading fics', and all sorts of other fanfic withdrawal symptoms, generally just feeling, and being impacted by, the Absence of Fanfic

but it's never 'leaves a comment on fanfic', 'gives kudos and recommends to friends', 'follows author/interacts with them in any way shape or form and otherwise lets them know how much you value their writing and fanfiction in general'

[catnipster69]

Withdrawal

Sam just didn’t care anymore, about himself or about the world. It had been weeks since he’d bathed. His sweat and grease joined the countless other bodily fluids present on the bare mattress in the flophouse he was sharing with junkies and prostitutes.

He reached down for his cock, and he thought of Dean smiling, Dean sucking him, Dean opening up so good for him, Dean lying in a bloody mess after the hellhounds got to him.

He cried and tore at his hair until he ran out of steam. Then he looked over at Maurice across the room in the other corner, sleeping the sleep of the heavily drugged. Maybe… He sat up and started to crawl over there, intent on something for the first time since...

But she stood between him and the drugs. He looked up at a blonde woman way too clean to be part of this scene.

“Sam,” she said, shaking her head. “I expected better of you.” She looked around at the squalor and scrunched her nose at the smell. She lifted Sam by his greasy hair until he was cowering in front of her, hunched over and small. “Come on,” she said, softer, and tugged him by his arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Sam followed Ruby docilely out the door.

For Wincest Wednesdays September 5, "Withdrawal" @wincestwednesdays

[jimmybutlrr]

All the terry Richmond and Aaron Pierre fan fictions I have come across.

[windsweptinred]

Holy sizzle @bobbole my darling, what a thing to read over my cereal. The beautiful blending of the 'daddy' role play and the artist/creation narrative, sublime!!

"He felt he was a drawing too, a fantasy masterfully coming out of the paper, a work of art finally complete."

Ahhhhh! Glorious! I love the way these two find wholeness through the balance of their roles. Both and neither creator and creation, both and neither master and servant. It shone through so beautifully in this.

What a fantastic way to start the week!

There were some sketches, quick pencil strokes that he had never seen before that day, fantasies that the Corinthian had about him and put on paper. Daniel had discovered these by sneaking into the room the Nightmare used to paint. It had all started from there.

@windsweptinred as I told you, that His heart belongs to Daddy, cause Daddy he treats it so well DESERVED to have a story, and here it is :D

(graphic design by me, photo by Cecilie Harris)

[balsamfir-fics]

a hope redefined (prelude)

Genres: angst, post S1 canon, more angst, romance, eventual smut, established childhood crushes to strangers to lovers, post-pining, becoming machine herald (sort of), eventual dad!vik, political tensions, growing up, the human condition

Pairing: Viktor/AFAB Reader

Warnings: series will have eventual smut, mentions of difficult pregnancy/injury/civil war. this prelude mentions spicy activities.

Summary: Viktor shouldn’t be alive.

He shouldn’t have survived the blast of the Council attack, and even if he did his sands of time should have soon run out. And yet here he stands, part man and part machine, in a future he never planned for and an augmented body he never expected to have.

With no template to follow, Viktor forges a new path towards happiness as he grapples with reconciling the man he once was and the man he could become. Complicated as this path may be, he knows better than to waste an opportunity to spend his remaining years with you, the person he’s kept in his heart ever since you were children. Amidst the chaos of an antebellum Runeterra, Viktor finds his freedom, his future, and his family.

Chapters: Prelude

Chapter Word Count: ~1.3k

Author Notes: Unedited. Threequel and final part to a hope never forgotten and a hope at risk. This can be read independently of its predecessors, though reading those first will better contextualize Viktor and YN’s relationship. Previous fics summarized below if you don't have time to read them!

Prequel summary: YN is Heimerdinger’s adopted daughter; YN and Viktor are childhood friends who grew up together between the ages of 10-16 and separated at 16 immediately after an unspoken confession of love. The uncertainty and cowardice of youth prevent YN from keeping contact until twelve years pass. Over the next five years the two keep orbiting each other, gravity pulling them closer, until Viktor’s hospital stint as per Episode 5 forces YN to reckon with their lifetime of love. The end of A Hope Never Forgotten sees Viktor’s seventeen-year-long hope and longing fulfilled.

A Hope at Risk follows canon for episodes 5-9 of Season 1, with some references to LoL lore for post-Season 1 events. Viktor hides his prognosis and the nature of his Hexcore experiments from YN for as long as possible, until his life is in jeopardy after the Council attack and YN finally finds out. YN and Jayce share the decision-making burden in not destroying the Hexcore so that Viktor's life can be saved. Viktor withdraws while processing all of these black-swan events (Hexcore integration, new city of Zaun, his Zaunite and Piltovan identities, etc), but hopes to work through his demons enough to return to YN. In the meantime, he moves to Emberflit Alley in Zaun where he hopes to rebuild who he is and figure out who wants to be.

If missed, the prior work notes that Viktor refers to YN as 'Sparrow' sometimes, which is because he finds her lively and likeable.

This last work refers to Arcane Season 1 canon first and foremost, then interprets post-Season-1 events by incorporating elements from older LoL lore. The majority of this piece will not follow Season 2 canon as it's not out at the time of writing, but Viktor's plotline in this work is written to be as plausible of a Season 2 fan theory as possible.

The first work in this series deals primarily with hope as per the title; the second deals with themes of loss and survival. Both are about decisions made and avoided. This final work reckons with recovery, rebirth, and rebuilding.

Hope, as the past five years has taught Viktor, is not quite the out-of-reach temptress he once believed it was, but rather a willful act of empowerment that even he is entitled to pursue.

It’s a bit of an odd lesson for him. During decades of wanting, but not having, he thought perhaps hope was a thing intended only for others — never him. He now thinks back to those days, remembering his own failure to quell the little flickers he felt, despite what he considered to be careful, methodological, and supposedly fool-proof efforts. How could his sixteen-year-old self, shown blissful perfection for mere minutes before having his heart torn away from him, ever have fathomed that there was something that came after despair? How would he, at 28, know that the little flame of hope he forgot to extinguish would grow to a blaze of success? Even more important — how could he have ever known that a sickly boy from the undercity could be given a second lease on life?

These second chances he never expected to receive (and one, even, that he still struggles with accepting) are the reason he is here today, he reminds himself. And here so happens to be in the arms of your post-coital form, watching as you struggle to calm your breathing. This affirms two things that he thought to be impossibilities: you’re his partner, and he’s — somehow — alive.

Such boons come with their own set of costs, of course. The cool metal of his peculiar augmentations serve as a daily reminder of what he gave up for science, for life, and for society. In part, he surrendered some of his humanity; though he's grateful to live another day in your presence, something that nearly feels sentient lives within him as sustenance. Nevermind the brief euphoria he felt running at the docks; the Hexcore might be a curse, he thinks, but it saved his life. In other ways, he lost control over his moral sensibilities; the breaths he’s allowed to take now were given to him against his consent, and the corrupted Hexcore remains, undestroyed, within him. Skye’s life was taken by the very thing keeping him in the mortal realm, and he endures the guilt of her death with every second his life goes on longer than hers.

He’s spent the greater part of the past few weeks in agony, mostly of the emotional sort as the foreign, willful hum of the Hexcore inside him makes quick work of healing his most severe injuries. Tormented by his conscience, his fear, and a profound sense of losing himself, Viktor knows he’s made a series of hurtful decisions to part from his entire family in Piltover. He knows that some of these relationships will have seen their heyday and may be beyond repair — not for lack of effort, but by the predicament of the turbulent political climate created in the aftermath of the Council attack. But such efforts must be taken one step at a time, one person at a time. Fixated on working on himself so that he might stand by you as his full self and not a broken, conflicted version, he furiously set plans in motion no matter his uncertainty. At his first sign of some satisfactory progress (to his standards), he allowed himself the small luxury of reaching out to you. He’d intended to only start a conversation, hoping to restore the full effect of your relationship as best as one might during a powder keg of a political situation. At most he’d expected that you might see each other in a few months to a year after letting letters and counseling do the work of rebuilding.

Naturally, you (fearless, fearless you, Viktor thinks) showed up on his doorstep at first chance instead. He would never complain, but after two nights of your warmth in his bed and the impossible pleasure of your daily company, the worries that prevented him from seeing you earlier seep back in.

As if you can sense his rising anxiety, you stir against him now after having come back down to Terra. He smiles at the dazed, incomprehensible murmur you make with your lips against his bare shoulder. You ease him, somewhat, but the kernel of worry remains. Viktor presses kisses to the top of your head. You tighten your arms around him, blinking back into reality under the dim Zaunite glow that filters into his bedroom.

“It’s still early,” he hums. “I’m sorry I woke you for…” (You raise your eyebrows knowingly, pressing naked self into him more intently). Viktor elects to finish his sentence carefully. “…For certain activities.” He coughs, making you smile at the dichotomy of his bashfulness after rather intense morning spent with his face between your legs. “You should get some more rest.”

Never one to be told what to do, you frown slightly, then prop yourself into an elbow. But Viktor is adamant you take care of your health (never mind that he’s notoriously bad at doing the same for himself), especially in these polluted depths. Pulling you to the washroom for the loo and a quick rinse, he then leads you back into his small bed for a few more hours of shut-eye. Later when he tries to wake you for a tardy breakfast, he chuckles at the trail of dried saliva you hurriedly wipe away — at least it’s a strong indication that you’re able to sleep soundly despite the constant bustle in the streets of Zaun. His small unit is a far cry from the sweeping wings of the Heimerdinger Estate that you’re accustomed to, and it’s still much less comfortable than even his modest apartment back in Piltover. In the least, he’d managed to pull together a rudimentary air filter from spare materials he brought with him from the academy lab and hopes that it lasts long enough for the duration of your stay.

Then he realizes something. He has no idea how long you’ll be here in Emberflit Alley with him. Hopefully not long, he thinks. Not because he wants to stop seeing you, no — rather, Zaun is no place for a Piltovan at present, and the small alley he’s in now was chosen for its seclusion instead of its relative quality of living. The dangers to you in the former undercity are many; if not to your health by means of pollutants, then by the constant stirrings of war that are whispered in the streets, emboldened by the Council attack and the topside confusion that remains unresolved. The pit in his stomach grows. You shouldn’t be here. No matter how much he would prefer to bask in your presence.

Nonetheless, you are here and these precious minutes are not to be wasted. You sit up, concerned by the change in his expression as thoughts race through his brilliant mind. “Vitya?”

“Hm?” He shakes his head slightly as if to rid himself of his thoughts, then pushes himself off of the bed to lean against his crutch. “Ah, I made a quick meal in case you might be a bit peckish. It’s not much, but it’s enough.”

You survey him, waiting to see if he might share what he was thinking of. Viktor merely tilts his head in the direction of his kitchen with a half-smile. He waits patiently as you grind your teeth in your decision to stay in bed longer or satisfy your hunger, electing to savor the moments he can with the extra time he’s been given, and pushes away his niggling concerns for now. His leg twinges as if to remind him who he has to thank, but when you slot yourself into him and support his side (arm wrapped tightly around his waist), he melts into your warmth and feels his worries — temporarily — fade into the background.

The road ahead might be immensely difficult and fraught with tragedy, he thinks. But mornings like these make it all worth it. As he wraps his own arm around your shoulders and nestles your head onto his, Viktor silently vows to help ensure that you and Runeterrans — all Runeterrans, not just the privileged few — get to have a future filled with such mornings.

[reiderwriter]

hiiii i have a request for the 1k celebration- congrats btw!! reader and spencer are trying to keep their new relationship secret but can’t keep their hands off of each other and have sex in the office bathrooms, then maybe one of the girls comes in to make sure reader is alright but spencer doesn’t stop what he’s doing whilst she’s trying to answer and then they have to go back into the office whilst everybody totally knows what they were doing lol- w prompt 35🫶

Prompt 35: "We might get caught. Does that turn you on?"

A/N: Thank you for the request! I'm always a big fan of Spencer bathroom fics for whatever reason 😭

Warnings: public sex, voyeurism, bathroom sec, fingering, penetrative sex, creampie, secret relationship, Perv! Spencer

Spencer had never been this forward before in his life. You appreciated his sudden confidence, but he just wished he had picked a time and place. Dragging you off to the women's bathrooms at the BAU office to fulfil your shared needs probably wasn't the time nor the place. 

It was happening anyway. 

Since you'd first pressed your lips against his the month prior - an honest reaction to his very sweet birthday present of plane tickets home for the holidays - you'd found it difficult to keep your hands off of him. 

He was warm, a heater in human form, and with the cold winter nights rolling in, you'd unashamedly used him as a human blanket multiple times. You loved the feeling of his weight pushing down on you, his head resting against your chest as he slowly kissed his way up your neck. 

You loved too, the feeling of his cock growing between his legs as your small touches and caresses became not enough. 

You loved even more the hours of love-making that had him curiously exploring every curve and edge of your body, every depth of you kissed, licked, touched tenderly. 

But with a month of exploration under your belt, you certainly hadn't had time for explanations, confessions, and celebrations. 

In simple terms, you hadn't told anyone about your relationship. New as it was, you didn't want to have to backtrack if Spencer decided he wasn't interested after he learnt everything about you. A small part of you also knew that it was as much because you didn't want to share him. Not yet. 

But Spencer’s timing was the opposite of impeccable, as he pushed you into the women's bathrooms half an hour before your team was supposed to ship out for a new case. 

“Spencer, we can't, not here,” you sighed out as his lips found a spot on your neck he'd discovered the week prior. It sent shivers down your back each time he even brushed it with his lips, and he was passionately flicking his tongue against it now, leaving you less than coherent. 

“I want to know how fast you can come for me.” 

Spencer was on a mission, and you sure as hell weren't going to stop him when it would be entirely more pleasurable to go along with him. 

He unbuttoned your pants swiftly, letting his hand rest between your legs as he worked his lips around each landmine of sensitivity he'd discovered in the last four weeks. 

Your moans flowed freely before you clamped a hand over your mouth, reminding yourself this was a very public bathroom in a very public building. One you had to return to every weekday from 9 to 5. 

“You're so adorable trying to hold in your moans. Let one out, just for me?” He begged, fingers finally finding their mark as he traced your clit delicately. It felt like an eternity until his fingers were inside of you, and even then, it wasn't enough. 

“Y/N, you in here? Penelope said she saw you head over her a few minutes ago.” JJ called from the door to the room, and you were suddenly cold with gratitude that Spencer had the foresight to pull you into a stall and close it before putting a hand on you. 

“Y-Yeah, I'm here. What's up?” You called back, eyes wide and locked with Spencer’s. He seemed to have been momentarily sobered by the interruption, but his hands didn't withdraw. His fingers pressed harder into your cunt, but he didn't move, raising an eyebrow as he listened to JJ's response.

“I just wanted to check on you. You've been a bit distant from the tram lately, like turning down drinks last week-” You'd turned it down because Spencer had begged you to let him eat you out until you passed out. 

“You left Henry's birthday party pretty early last weekend, too.” You'd left early because Spencer wanted to see if he could make you squirt.

“And at work, it seems like you're always worried about something on your phone?” Again, filled with texts from Spencer innocently inquiring about different things both of your bodies could do to reach an orgasm. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” You cursed your mind for wandering as you realised that each memory had spurred your lower body on to begin rocking your hips against Spencer’s hand. The gleeful smile on his face was enough to tell you that you'd fucked up.

“We might get caught,” he whispered in your ear, just low enough to not travel further than your stall door. “Does that turn you on?” When you inadvertently clenched around his fingers, he had his answers. 

Yes, every single thing that he said and did turned you on and got you into the worst possible scenarios.

“Y/N?” JJ called again, and you did your best to calm your body as you opened your mouth to reply. 

“I'm so sorry, I guess my mind has been elsewhere recently. I've been seeing this guy. So I think I'm just in that honeymoon phase, you know?” You spat the words out as fast as you could, so he had no time to sabotage you, to flick his wrist just so you'd be a twitching mess. 

“Oh, Y/N, that's great, congratulations. I'll leave you to your business in peace then, but just so you know, if you ever did need someone to talk to, I'm pretty good with boy talk by now.” 

You wanted to beg her to get out of there that second, but suffered through the niceties of a goodbye and a see you soon, all while Spencer’s fingers raced you to your finish line. 

“Fuck, Spencer, want to cum on your dick, please.” You begged as soon as you heard the door shut behind her, mouth connecting with his as you pulled more of him into you. 

“It did turn you on more. That's good to know,” he said, kissing you back as he dropped his pants and lifted you up slightly, before dropping you gently back down onto his cock. 

He pinned you between his body and the solid wall on the stall, not trusting the divider to stand up to the pace he was about to set. 

His thrusts were hot, fast, and rough, and you wouldn't have it any other way right then. 

“Spencer, cum inside me. Fill me up, fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck, we can't leave any evidence behind.” You whimpered as you finally felt yourself explode, body twitching into him as he continued his steady pace, breath hot against your skin as he stared down, watching his cock pleasure you. 

“Very practical, Y/N,” he laughed. “But that’s where I was planning on doing it this entire time.” With that, he thrust as deep into you as your position allowed, and, with a grunt, spilt his load inside of you.

You stood there, both silent for a minute before he pulled his wrist forward, checking his wristwatch. 

“Six minutes 46 seconds. We should still have enough time to grab our go-bags before anyone gets suspicious. Thank you, Y/N.” 

He smiled at you again, and you knew just from the look that you'd be trying this again soon. 

Spencer wasn't going to forget any of this happened, and you, frankly, didn't want him to.

[olderthannetfic]

All this fic deletion wank has been rough to read, personally. Not in a "I find this upsetting" kind of way, but a-- I, as an author and creative, am now confronting a lot of my regrets kind of way. When I was younger I deleted fics because of harassment. And here I am over a decade and a half later, dealing with having removed my work from circulation again. In a different way, but the impact is mostly the same. Last year I put over 30 fics in a locked archive, the reason being once more because of mistreatment by people within the fan space they were for. I did it this way because I deeply regret deleting my old fics. They were part of my journey, and while a lot of stuff I find deeply embarrassing is still up on Fanfiction.net, it's not all of it. I wish I still had things to look back on, if only to remind myself that all the effort I put into writing actually led me somewhere. I've grown a lot as a writer, and it's sort of like... Not having any candid photographs of myself in my teen years. A piece of my life is just no longer viewable and only exists within memory that grows hazier over time. But when I deleted a bunch of fics in my teens, I felt extremely justified in doing so. I was angry and hurt and wanted to be vindictive. And I regret it. I didn't really come to regret it until I lost a lot of fic in strikethrough. Gone, overnight. And I still mourn those fics because my laptop they were stored on got borked and I no longer had copies. It suddenly clicked that even if I felt justified, a loss is still a loss. And it sucks. From where I'm sitting, I see both sides. I feel like sometimes withdrawing completely from a fandom is a valid thing to do. But I learned a valuable lesson about deletion over the years as I've watched more things crumble and disappear. It was an incredibly painful thing for me to lock away a bunch of fics last year, and I felt like I needed to for a lot of reasons, but I didn't want to delete things like I had before. I thought, in some way, I'd found a compromise. I give copies out. I open the archive for people to download what they miss. Because this felt like the only way to give myself some peace without completely destroying so much work and harming the people in the community who weren't part of the problem or reason I withdrew the way I did. But the more I read these takes, the back and forth, the vitriol and various perspectives, the more I wonder if I'm ready to let go of some of that pain from how bad things got in that fan space and open the archive again. You mentioned people who don't care, or treat having passion for your hobbies as a bad and/or cringe thing being boring. And something about that struck me. I poured so much of my heart and soul into those fics. Years of my life spent learning and churning out work and challenging myself to tackle narratives I never would have dared to dream of. I became a better writer over the course of creating them. Keeping them in the Restricted Section of my library hides away some of the work I'm most proud of, and even if I had what felt like good reasons to do so, I'm glad I learned the lessons I did when I did and kept them on the Archive even if they're hidden right now. It was my "right" to hide them, but I guess I've come to the conclusion here, watching this wank unfold, that the person I'm harming the most by keeping my work private and out of the hands of the community, is myself. That's my art. And I *am* proud of it. And I shouldn't let anyone take that from me. So thanks for letting the topic breathe. I gained a lot of perspective from it.

--

Aww.

[popcornforone]

The Wait

A General Marcus Acacius Fic

Day 22 of Pedrotober (Prompt Gladiator)

Masterlist

This was meant to be short… I was gonna it & then I was like no… I want to know more myself & as I am my own audience I kept going, so behold of our Roman Hero getting his day in the sun.

Synopsis:- You go to the Roman Baths everyday to look at the clientele, despite being promised to a man.

Word count:-2700

Warnings over & above:- age gap, loss of virginity, Marcus is naked throughout, all types of sexual intercourse, sweat, withdrawal, breeding, arranged marriage, ogling at naked men. This is in Rome back in the day so the rules are different ages of consent are not what they are today. Swearing.

Yea that was fun to write, hope it was a much fun to read. Thanks @alyssamariag & @norththelemon for the prompt list. I’m amazed I’m still going.

“He won’t be here” you say as you & 2 of your ladies in waiting enter the prestigious Roman Baths. “& we can only sit here & look we are not allowed in, unless a man invites us”

“What if you say no” Victoria said. She’s always concerned for your welfare.

“Then it would be a shame on my family’s name, but I think my father would be more disappointed if he knew I was here watching all of these men.” Everyone in power or promise comes to these baths. You visit it shortly after your time of the month, knowing that should a man catch your eye, you would not be with child. You are betroved & come your birthday In 3 moons time you will be a man’s wife, by this time next year you will probably have produced an heir for who ever it is who is promised your hand. Your dream is that it is one of these generals, knights, or senators in these baths that will be your partner until they are sent off to war to die, put in an arena to fight or be poisoned or hanged due to their lust for power. But that’s the way of Rome.

Elderly men walk past & do not catch you or your ladies eyes, so many men are genuinely here for baths & nothing else but while you’ve been sat here for 30 minutes you’ve seen two ladies taken away, one discreet area around the corner with filled with moans.

“Yea this is a waste of time today ladies,” You sigh “let’s…” but then in the corner of your eye you see luscious locks dripping wet come out of the water, from a side profile of a man with a very large nose & defined features. He’s here. The general. You blush bright red & start to fan yourself. You can see his broad shoulders also poke out of the water.

This is General Marcus Acacius. He just, from what you can see, looks magnificent.

“My lady are you okay?” You don’t realise your jaw has dropped so dramatically open as you watch him, eyes draw to him like a hawk to a mouse. But he’s no mouse, he is a brave general. So many victories for Rome, & its subjects. You eventually snap out of it.

“Sorry did you say something”

Your ladies giggle as you try to not look. But it’s too much. Your eyes just constantly wander back to him. He’s just stunning. Each stroke he swims in the bath wonderful.

But then he swims to the other side of the bath & places his hands on the side. Out he gets. Soaking wet, completely naked. Water drops from his wavy hair. His strong back as scars from war traced across them. But it his arse. What a glorious rounded juicy peach it is. You moan a bit to loudly & a few people look at you & you instantly raise your fan to your face, to stop your embarrassment. Your eyes however betray you, still ogling over him from a distance.

Now out of the water he stands side on. Your ladies giggle, but you just look at that long length. You’ve seen men in these baths walk around naked. The first time you saw a penis up close was a surprise. But right now is the only other time you’ve felt self conscious & intrigued. It hangs, his balls are heavy. It’s semi hard. It’s long, ooh god it’s long. Longer than any other man you have glanced your eyes upon. How would anyone be able to accommodate it? It would split the lucky woman in half.

You feel your own pelvis, it’s moving on its own, your legs slowly parting. Your body is telling you that you are ready, that this is the prize. You just hope the general is in the mood for you. You can always tell whoever you are betroved to that you have ridden horses & that’s why there feels like you’ve been deflowered. Everyone knows that happens to some ladies & you are often seen on horseback, your father was instant that you had it as a life skill.

You mind is wondering as you day dream, that you don’t realise the general has noticed you gawping. He’s smirking & the takes some water from the pool & runs it’s through his hair, a wet look, even though the rest of him is drenched. He doesnt find a robe, or cover his manhood. Everyone in here is free to be who they want so he slowly saunters over & it’s only as he’s about 3 meters away that you ladies giggle.

“Miss, miss” they shriek & put their fans up over their faces trying not to look. Your past shame.

“My lady” Marcus bows & you smirk & lower your fan. How will that penis fit anyone, it’s wide too. Your splutter & then eventually lift you head from his privates up his hairy torso, to those broad shoulders, that long blemished filled neck, which is so ready to be kissed & to that stunning godly face. A few scars & cuts, but such astounding facial hair, the cuffs match if you knew what I mean. But it’s his eyes. So big & bright. So sexy. Your legs part again, you feel something inside you grow, a wanting of pleasure.

“General Acacius” you smile.

“It’s Marcus, please” & he holds out his hand & winks. “Please my lady”

“No miss”

“Shhh” you take his hand & he holds you close to him. Your thin white dress dampening from touching his skin, skin that’s been hardened by war but also feels like cloud to touch. Soft & sensitive.

“This way” & he points to a door. No one has been through that door yet who’s been chosen to pleasure anyone in these baths.

“But miss”

“You say a word to anyone…” you threaten your ladies. They go quiet.”Now return, im sure the general will be a gentleman” & you wrap your arm around him & he leads you out the door.

“I can assure you miss” he whispers “i will look after you”

The room he leads you to, has a bed, not as Fancy as yours at home, but it’s still silk, & white & virginal like you are. He closes the door behind you & stand to attention still completely naked. Part of your dress from his damp skin his gone see through.

“Undress” Marcus requests. You are shy at first, but your slowly disrobe, once naked your hands cover your mound. You like him have hair on your privates. You had planned for your wedding night to be clean shaven, to be taken & filled for the first time. The general walks towards you. You gasp as he circles you & his long delicate finger trace over your skin.

“You like this?” You nod as one hand cups your breast. “You like being admired?”

“Yes”

“You like my touch” his hand trials down your body heading for your sex “you want passion” he moves your hand but you grab him before he can touch your clit.

“General please, I’m betroved” you blurt out & his eyes widen.

“I know, but we all want to know why you come to the baths? To breed off your ladies in waiting?” You let go of your hand as the first kiss reaches the crook of your neck, his voice smooth like butter. Your legs part. “Do you watch them to get tips for your future husband”

“No” you bluntly say, & then moan as his fingers enter your pubic hair.

“Have you been taken then”

“N… no” you stutter, your body shaking.

“Shhh shhh shhh it’s okay” he whispers. “No need to tremble, I want pleasure you unless you don’t want me too”

“Why?” You say & his hand freezes, once again he’s so close to your clit.

“Because all is fair in love & war & if you just want to know what will make your future lover happy & what to expect, I can help out with that”

“How?” You then gasp. His large flat thumb has made contact with your most sensitive area, your clit being rubbed, makes your knees buckle & he grabs you to stop you falling.

“Because I am the man who in 3 moon you will be matched with.” It’s a dark sultry voice. You lift your head, you turn your head to face him & thrust your hand into his wet hair.

“Oooh yes” you moan. Your lips then clash with his, you let his tongue take you, you let him feast upon the kiss. His thumb strumming away as you make out & he pleasures you.

“How long have you know you’ve been promised to me!” He asks before he scoops you up & carrys you to the bed.

“2 years 3 month 1 week & 4 days.” You say as you are plonked on the bed, your knees raised to start with.

“Oddly specific”

“You came back from battle, the scar on your left shoulder my father healed, & when you saw me run passed I heard my father say she’s almost a woman, you can have her soon” he smirks & lowers your knees, your legs part, he licks his lips at the arousal he sees wanting to do nothing more than sink into you & fuck you all afternoon until the baths empty & then let you sore body soak in the warm water before taking you again.

“You did seem bashful that day, even through my pain I noticed.”

“It’s not often a girl gets lucky”

He caresses your face before tenderly kissing you.

“I wasn’t even a general when I was told I would be marrying you, & here we are fate has brought us together sooner” he kisses down your chin & neck before then sucking on your nipples, you moan deeply your hips pushing up into him. You feel his penis harden & he grunts & sits up.

“I’m not like the other heathens, I can wait the three moon” he says as he looks at your trembling body, how your already panting.

“You’d, you’d do that?” You seem shocked. Most men especially in power & the army get what hey want. “For me”

“Yes beautiful l” he caresses your face “even if it got to our wedding night & you didn’t wish to consummate I wouldn’t” your face lights up.

“You really are a gentleman” you state, & kiss him & your body flexes towards him again, his hand is stroking his length.

“So shall we wait” his voice is hoarse, he’s trying to hold it all in.

“I’ve wanted you general for a very long time, but how is this even going to work”

“Ahhh”’he giggles & spreads you legs even wider “don’t worry darling, you grow to” your eyes pop out of your head. He was a shower but he was also a grower.

“Be gentle” you mumble & nod.

“I will & I promise not to cum inside you” he is between your legs, swiping his penis across your clit & your sex. Your entrance about to be filled. You are about to be deflowered by the man you are betroved too.

“This might pinch, try to relax” you nod & lie back. You’re just enjoying the teasing pleasure of him swiping across everything that’s so sensitive. & then you feel it. The breach. He’s only a tiny bit in, but you feel pleasure you’ve never experienced before. You grab onto the bedding & scream.

“Holy fuck” he looks startled as he sighs as he feels you squeeze him.

“You okay” you nod & go mmmhhhmm “if it’s too much ill stop”

“NO Marcus!” You shout”keep going”

“Yes my lady” he then lies on top of you & as he ever so slowly inches his way fully into you, he watches the pleasure on your face. He has taken his fair share of flowers in his time, but none quite like you. The innocence draining from you, the little moans of yes coming from your plump red lips. The feel of your goosebumps. This is truly different to all the girls he’s had before.

“Fuck Marcus” you moan as he starts to slowly rock. He groans as you clamp around him squeezing his penis tightly.

“Jesus” he snarls”fuck baby, you’re so tight” he looks down seeing the mess you’ve already made, your virginity broken. “No going back now your all mine”

“Marcus what should I…”

“Shhh shhh” he says putting his lips on yours. “Tonight is your first Lesson is lust, let me ease you in, just enjoy it.” He then after a few more larger stroke jolts his hip. That special spot has been hit, reverberating around your whole body.

“Yes oooh yes yes yes” you moan grabbing more of the silk bedding.

“You like that beautiful” you nod & he thrusts hard again. “Good cos now I know you like this, on our wedding night this will be all you fucking get” he’s now much larger hovering above you his hips in a rhythm as he plunders you. Your own hand that’s not grabbing onto bedding, is caressing your hard nipples. He’s watching your perfect breasts jiggle as he goes harder. His eyes which are always brown even darker.

“Fuck oooh fuck fuck fuck” his rhythm becoming uneven. He quickly with draws his cock from your virgina & strokes it furiously. His seed spilling out over his hand & over your thighs, his eyes close in pleasure. “Oooh yes sexy” he the Burys his head between your thighs licking a strip across your enterance before furiously shoving 3 fingers inside you. “Come on my lady let got” you don’t need to much encouragement. You’ve had self pleasure before but the way this orgasm hits you from the feel of his cock to now his fat fingers finishing you off, it’s another level. He watches in delight. “Oooh this is going to be fun”…

3 moons later you are wed, to Marcus. You’ve had sex every single time you have seen him. Some assumed you had already been wed. As you lie on the bed on your martial night he’s deep inside you. Taking you from behind. Your arse with red marks on it from earlier spankings. Your face with sticky cum on it after he had face fucked you & said swallowing would happen next time so he gave you a facial. But right now is the moment you are looking forward to.

Your arse bouncing, you voice screaming in delight as another high hits you.

“Still so fucking good this cunt, so tight so ready” he growl. You can tell by the tightness of his grip he’s not got long to last. You grab the bedding & whimper.

“Fuck baby more more more”

“I don’t think I can” he’s straining his voice. He goes out of habit to pull out his cock you can tell that’s gonna happen.

“No cum inside, im your wife, you can impregnate me, it’s not a shame now”

“Huh?” He then realised he can & he doesn’t fully withdraw & slams back in.”what if I don’t want our baby growing in you yet”

“Marcus please I want to feel how good it is”

“Fuck baby I love it when you beg” one last slap of your arse has you clamping around him squeezing out your climax & that’s all it takes. The sensation shocks you, feeling his essence. Knowing he’s just emptied inside you. You bite the pillow next to your head as he moans your name as he comes down, slowly withdrawing his cock. Seeing how sore you are from all the sex you had not just had that night but in the previous weeks, seeing his cum drip down your thighs. He smirks he made that mess. He pulls you into his lap & kisses you deeply, that thumb going back to your clit, no pubic hair down there today as you had promised. You moan as you are over stimulated.

“You okay my lady?” You nod.

“You okay too husband?”

“More than okay” he whispers before kissing your forehead. “& to think 3 moons ago all I was to you was someone you were ogling at that Roman bath” he chuckles.

“Hmmm ahh so naive”

“So innocent” you smile at that remark & start to stroke his cock getting it erected again.

“Well not anymore”

[fuckyeahlabynight]

Fang Fest 2024

EDIT: Apologies! The first image I made for this had the date wrong. it's fixed now, so please reblog this version. Thank you!

Hello Tumblr Vamily! first of all, thank you to those who participated in the Fang Fest poll(s) I posted. I read all your tags and comments and I decided to go ahead with this year's Vampire the Masquerade Fang Fest!

This year’s theme is “Tarot.” These prompts are intended to inspire fanart, fanfic, and other pieces of fanwork. Anything you wish to create and share with the vamily is very greatly appreciated!

The Fang Fest will run from June 1 - 22, 2024.

Each day, starting with The Fool on June 1 and finishing with The World on June 22, post whatever fan work you've made inspired by the Tarot card prompt (eg. art, fic, gifs, poetry, music playlists, mood boards, whatever). Please include the hashtag #vtmfangfest24 so they can all be collected here. I know there are a lot of prompts this year compared to past years, and if you can't think of anything for a particular prompt, or are otherwise unable to finish, it's perfectly fine to skip it.

Those who are not taking part in making fan work are encouraged to like, comment on, give kudos, and share their favourites! Collaboration is also encouraged, so reach out to your fellow Kindred and see what you can come up with!

Another list of the prompts and their general meanings will be available under the cut. See y'all in June!

The Fool Innocence, spontaneity, free spirits, new beginnings, (reversed) recklessness, taking foolish risks, being held back.

The Magician Being resourceful, inspiration, manifesting plans, (reversed) poor planning, manipulation.

The High Priestess Intuition, divine femininity, sacred knowledge, (reversed) keeping secrets, withdrawing, being silent when your voice should be heard.

The Empress Femininity, beauty, abundance, (reversed) over-reliance on others, suffering creative block.

The Emperor Authority, father figures, structure, (reversed) domination, excessive control, lack of discipline.

The Hierophant Spiritual wisdom and beliefs, traditions, established institutions, (reversed) freedom and challenging the status quo.

The Lovers Love, harmony, relationships (romantic or otherwise, but usually romantic), your values aligning with others', (reversed) disharmony, arguments, hatred.

The Chariot Taking action, success, willpower, being in control, (reversed) lack of direction, opposition.

Strength Courage, compassion, persuasion, (reversed) self-doubt, low energy.

The Hermit Soul-searching, introspection, being alone in a positive way, (reversed) unwanted isolation, withdrawing, loneliness.

Wheel of Fortune Karma, good luck, destiny, a turning point in your life, (reversed) bad luck, resistance to change, cycles breaking.

Justice Fairness, truth, cause and effect, (reversed) unfairness, not taking accountability, dishonesty.

The Hanged Man Surrendering, letting go, considering new perspectives, (reversed) stalling, delays, indecision.

Death Endings, unstoppable change, transformation, (reversed) resistance to change, unwanted purging.

Temperance Balance, moderation, patience, (reversed) imbalance, excess, needing self-care.

The Devil Addiction, who you are when no-one is watching, sexuality, (reversed) releasing limiting beliefs, exploring your dark side safely.

The Tower Sudden change, chaos, upheaval, (reversed) personal transformation, averting disaster.

The Star Hope, faith, purpose, renewal, (reversed) despair, losing faith, disconnection.

The Moon Illusions, anxiety, intuition, (reversed) letting go of fears and repressed emotions, inner confusion.

The Sun Positivity, fun, warmth, success, (reversed) disappointment, toxic positivity, overly optimistic.

Judgement Rebirth, retribution, (reversed) self-doubts, ignoring opportunities.

The World Completion, accomplishments, travel, (reversed) short-cuts, delays, not yet finding closure.

[americanwh0rerstory]

KINKTOBER DAY EIGHT

risky sex - max cooperman

max cooperman x f!reader

SUMMARY: when max wanted to train and jake wasn’t paying attention, things get a little interesting

CONTENT WARNINGS:

A/N: IM SORRY FOR THE DELAY. i’ve had some stuff happen and my fics maybe delayed. also i haven’t watched never back down in a few years, this is gonna be SO ooc and not fit with any storyline but i’ll try. tbh i slapped together random things i remembered from the movie and hoped it would sound good

NSFW MDNI. I AM NOT ACCOUNTABLE FOR ANYTHING YOU READ BEYOND THIS POINT

“then go around my wrist” max instructs, teaching you how to wrap his hands up before training. he didn’t think you’d want to come watch him train, but you always seemed to surprise him.

whilst he had you wrapping his hand, his other one was under your skirt rubbing small but teasing circles on your clit; eliciting your small mewls of pleasure which you tried to keep as quiet as possible to avoid being caught by anyone else who was potentially nearby

he had a small grin on his face, but anyone would mistake it for the regular max. you, however, knew it was the smug grin he wore when he could tease you without anyone knowing.

after a moment of rubbing your sensitive and swollen clit, he stopped which caused you to whine at the sudden loss of pleasure. “keep wrapping my hand up, baby. i’ll continue when you do” he mumbled softly in your ear, his warm breath fanning over the shell of your ear before you continued wrapping his hand like he instructed you to do

Whilst you did that, and max rubbed your clit, he was casually talking to jake about the beatdown. the two just kept casually talking with jake none the wiser to what was going on right now

with jake oblivious to the action max was pulling, you felt the familiar coil tightening in your abdomen whilst trying to hold back moans of pleasure; you knew you wouldn’t be able to cum though, it would be too obvious what max was doing

he was smug about it though. the glint in his eyes betrayed his true thoughts as he continued to rub tight circles against your clit. “imagine if i had my camera with me, i’d watch it on repeat” he murmurs to you with a smirk

it wasn’t long before you found yourself on the brink of orgasm, attempting to chase that high until you suddenly felt with withdrawal of pleasure. “i never said you could cum, naughty girl” max chided playfully, planting a quick kiss on your forehead before going to train

A/N: i’m sorry about this one week delay. i’m gonna catch up with my kinktober, i just had some personal stuff happened which required me to take a break

[bullet-prooflove]

Kinktober 2024: Everything You Need - Mike McLusky x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @callsignrookie @skellyagogo @fan-fics-reblogs @buckysteveloki-me 

Companion piece to: Hell or Highwater - You and Mike always find your way back to each other.

Sometimes you just need to fuck it out.

Mike knows that better than anyone especially when it comes to you. That’s why he has you pinned to the table underneath him, his belt looped around your wrists, binding them tight above your head. His free hand grips your jaw, keeping your gaze locked on his as he buries himself balls deep in that sweet pussy of yours.

His skin is covered scratches, bite marks, bruises from the violence of your passion, the evidence of your relationship scored into his flesh.

That’s what tonight is about.

Commitment.

You both want it but you both can’t give it.

So it gets brutal and it gets messy because that frustration, it builds and builds until someone throws a little fuel on the fire, igniting the whole fucking powder keg.

The sound of skin slapping echoes through the cabin, your rough moans, his hitched breath. He jams his fingers into your mouth and you bite down on them hard enough to leave teeth imprints as you begin to tighten around his cock.

The surge of ecstasy races through his senses like a wild fire as you grip him so fucking tight he can barely breathe. He grinds his teeth trying to hold back, but you steal away his sanity in those moments, wringing the orgasm right out of him, milking his cock for every last drop of cum.

You watch him the whole time and somehow that just heightens every single second of his rapture because he knows that you only have eyes for him despite all this bullshit between the two of you.

He withdraws his fingers in the aftermath, holding them up to show you the indentations you’ve left.

“You’re fucking feral.” He tells you, wiping them on shirt he tore off you before he reaches up the release you from your bonds. You flex your wrists as the leather falls away and he takes each of them between his large hands, his thumbs tracing over the bruising.

“Says the man whose still inside me.” You tease, your thighs hugging his hips a little tighter, keeping him pressed deep.

“Maybe I just can’t stand to be away from you.” He says half seriously as he arches into you, pushing his cum deeper. “You’re staying tonight by the way.”

“Mike…” You begin and he fucking hates the way you say his name in that tone, it’s the one you use when you’re trying to ‘handle him’.

“You can’t give me this-” He utters, thrusting for emphasis. “-and not the rest of it. You either take all of me or get nothing at all.”

You mumble something under you breath as he brushes over that sweet spot again, your head tipping back onto the table as euphoria erupts through your nerve endings.

“What was that?” He asks, guiding your left leg over his shoulder so it hits deeper this time.

“All of you.” You cry out as his dick kisses that filthy little place, the one that makes you see stars every single fucking time. “I need all of you.”

“Alright honey.” He whispers, his voice husky as he cups your jaw once more, guiding your gaze back to his. “Let’s make sure you get everything you need.”

Love Mike? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[whumpdreaming]

My introduction!

Hi! My name is Heather (they/them). I've been a lurker for some time, but I now realize what I've been writing has been whump all along, so.. hello!

My first encounters with whump were in Sunday school 😭😭 some of those kid's bible books were insanely whumpy for no reason at alI, and then it's only now I learn what the term actually is. I speak decent French (getting back into it after not using it for a few years), I intend to go to culinary school and become a professional chef, and my main fandoms include Overwatch, Baldur's Gate (not into it as much anymore, sadly), Epic: The Musical, and Ultrakill and FNAF (which I don't write much fic for).

This blog will never contain NSFW content! Kink blogs and antis please DNI!

What this blog will contain:

Whump (obviously)

My own writing (lots of drabbles, occasionally some of my more involved work ; aka my two big projects, a BBU story since that setting grabbed me by the brain as soon as I saw it for the first time, and various Overwatch characters getting whumped to hell and back --- I don't see enough talk about Cole Cassidy's big sad puppy dog eyes)

Lots and lots of reblogs since that's easier than actually writing 😅

Keep in mind that this isn't a NSFW blog and I won't be posting anything sexual/explicit, but I'm a fan of intense/graphic whump and things can get pretty dark. In those cases, there'll be a warning at the top of the post along with the content listings just to make sure everyone stays safe!

Some of my favorite tropes:

Living weapons!!

Gore (I'm not a fan of major character death, so I like it best when a healing factor is involved if it's very intense)

Parental caretakers

Transition/weight gain in recovery

Recovery in general, especially when difficult!

Lab whump!

Pet whump!

Chronic pain (totally not coping with this one)

Dehumanization!!

Vivisection!!

Panic attacks

Emotional distress of all kinds

Sickfics!!

If you send me any asks or requests or interact with my posts or say literally anything nice about me whatsoever I will give you my firstborn child

Some of my favorite whump blogs that inspired me to make a blog in the first place: @painonthebrain @whumpninja @defire @whumpwordsoftheday @sowhumpshaped

@sickfictropes @allthingswhumpyandangsty @writinglittlepains @whumpyourdamnpears --- sorry in advance if you didn't want to be mentioned! 😭

Btw --- check out my Widowmaker whump fic :)

Series:

Barbara Summers has a bad time with the mob (I'll update it someday I promise) ; also called "Consequences"

Intro

One

Two

Drabbles: (Electrocution+Unconscious+"Say Please") (Warm Bath + Fresh Bandages + "..Nothing. It just hurts") (Broken Fingers+Trying not to scream+"Aw, poor thing")

---

Crownchain

Character/setting introduction

"Foul Play"

"Pulling Strings"

Whump+Hurtcember: (Day 1: Collapse + Broken Bones) (Day 2: Breakdown + "This is your fault") (Day 3: Blood + Begging) (Day 4: "Help me" alt prompt + "This isn't my blood") (Day 5: Faint + Concussion) (Day 6: Touch Starved + "Please stop") (Day 7: Abandoned + Kidnapped) (Day 8: Cuddle + Fire alt prompt) (Day 9: Exhausted + Shaking) (Day 10: Touch Aversion + "Let me help you") (Day 11: "It's my fault" alt prompt + Manipulation) (Day 12: Cry + "I have nowhere else to go") (Day 13: Nightmare + Trauma) (Day 22: Self Harm + Hallucinations)

---

Hemopenia

Stages of blood withdrawal

Stage Zero

Pilot

Not Dead

Stage One

Lively

---

That's about it for now!! Thanks for reading!

[mercuriians]

say what you want

synopsis ☆ you're forced to confront your feelings for aomine when your plans go wrong at a party.

content info — angst to fluff, some hurt/comfort, fem! reader, mutual pining (reader & aomine are both idiots), little bit suggestive at the end. also, as a WARNING, this work contains references to underage drinking so if that makes you uncomfortable then please don't read this.

word count — 3.1k words.

author's note — first full knb fic i've written!! yeahhh i got carried away so oops. wasn't really sure how to end it but i hope it's alright either way. while i was writing this fic i was listening to take a chance with me and lowkey by NIKI, so if you want to feel the vibes of the story then u should listen to those songs, they're amazing i promise. hope u guys enjoy!!

"you know, ahomine, this entire thing was your fault."

you aim for your words to be sharp, accusatory, and scathing, filled with the type of poison that conveys just how irritated you felt at the moment; they’re intended to withdraw some kind—any kind, actually, since it’s aomine you’re talking to—of guilt or acknowledgement from the boy, or at the very least a sign that yes, he was the one who deserved the blame, and every ounce of it too.

however your objective falls short, and there’s a thought that irritatingly lingers at the back of your unusually sluggish mind: that, really, you weren’t exactly free from fault either. but it isn’t like you want to admit that because even the boy next to you knows the extent of your obstinacy and pride.

it’s a shame, and it’s quite ironic too, that your words are ultimately what betray your integrity. the way they come out breathless, slightly slurred, and definitely nowhere near scathing says more than enough.

earlier, you might have drunk a bit more than you were supposed to.

but to be fair, it was kise's seventeenth birthday. knowing how passionate he became whenever the subject was about parties or having fun or legitimately just having the spotlight on himself, the celebration turned out to be rather wild, to say the least. though when you had all five—technically six—members of the miracle generation gathered in the same area, as well as some of their respective teammates, the pandemonium was likely the only thing you could even anticipate. besides the heavy stench of testosterone of course.

see, your original plan was to spend the night quietly spectating the crowd. you never really liked parties, and you never really liked all the chaos that it brought. what you did like, though, was watching that same chaos unfold before your eyes. you even prepared your childhood friend to be by your side when it all went down, with his fluffy baby blue hair and his innocent, perceptive gaze never straying too far from where number two sat contentedly, playing with a rubber ball.

"how long do you think it'll take before kagami and aomine get into a brawl?" you had mused, hiding your amused grin behind your hand as you watched the two basketball players get into an argument over what the next song would be.

all the while, you hoped that kuroko didn’t see the way your eyes dipped towards the area of skin that aomine’s shirt haphazardly left exposed.

luckily he didn’t seem to notice. either that or—this was more likely—he was kind enough not to comment.

"ten minutes." kuroko had stated bluntly, answering your question. as it turns out, he wasn't far off from the mark.

so, for the first half of the party, your plan worked. you sat by the corner, languidly drinking from your cup of apple juice while you chatted with kuroko about anything that came into your mind. everything was fine, things were going well on your part, and at some point, you even sang along to the cheesy pop music that the speakers blasted.

most of all, you managed to avoid aomine.

but to put it frankly, shit hit the fan the moment the clock hit eleven. a bit surprisingly, the instigator wasn’t aomine, or takao, or even the golden birthday boy himself. no, it was sweet, exuberant momoi.

looking back on it, maybe your surprise was unreasonable. this was the same girl who could make eerily accurate predictions simply based off the statistics she collected from the court, and with you being a basketball player yourself, you knew just how scheming momoi could be when she really wanted to. that, and the fact that she happened to be another one of your childhood friends.

yeah, you probably should have realized that she was plotting something.

yet the realization never dawned on you. not when she offered you three consecutive cups of sake and claimed that “it’s to help you loosen up!”, not when she managed to pull you away from kuroko, not when she proposed the stupidly cliche spin the bottle game, and definitely not when she forced aomine to sit directly across from where you were.

after watching a few hilarious and awkward rounds, it was only inevitable for you to be the one spinning the bottle, and it was only inevitable for the damned thing to land on the one boy you were hoping to skip. and no, not because you hated him, but precisely because you simply couldn’t. it was impossible to not like aomine, even with his laziness, arrogance, perversion, and occasional playboyish tendencies. the truth was that behind every flaw of his, there were just as many positives, whether it was his obstinate loyalty or his unwavering honesty or his genuine respect for those who earned it.

so no one could blame you for the way your breath caught in your throat when aomine held your gaze and when he eventually began to make his way over. “this okay with you?” he asked nonchalantly as if this was a light, casual matter, and as if he didn’t care at all. yet, there was a slight, barely noticeable tightness in his navy gaze. had you not known him for years now, you likely wouldn’t have picked up on that small detail.

but as small as it was, really, it was anything but. and with your heart beating just a bit faster, you knew exactly why.

you nodded your head wordlessly, your lips parting, your eyes meeting his, and your message being spoken and understood through that eye contact alone. aomine leaned in, and you closed your eyes.

his lips were chapped, and his hand felt rough and calloused against your skin, but you felt a trail of fire prickling through your body anyway. quicker than you would have liked to admit, you found yourself falling deeper. you hoped, for a brief, flickering moment, that aomine felt the same. maybe, within his mind, there were thoughts of you.

swirls of past memories, like when you two would play basketball together, sweat dripping down your faces, soaking the fabric of your clothes as you focused on not letting him score; fragments of the future, like what it would be like to attend college together; and wishes for the present moment, like maybe how he wanted you to be his, just as you've wanted him to be yours since the last year of junior high.

you pulled aomine in closer, fingers digging into his collar. the logical part of your mind shrieked, voice raising in volume the longer you pressed your body against his, but you shut the thoughts out.

very, very vaguely, it occurred to you that the alcohol made your heart beat faster, made your spirit burn recklessly in a way that you hadn't known before.

for better or for worse, aomine noticed too.

and the moment you regained all sense of control, you realized that you no longer felt the weight of his body, or the warmth of his lips. bright lights flooded your vision as you opened your eyes. aomine stood a foot or two away, his shirt a bit crumpled from where you had gripped the fabric.

there was a certain kind of look on his face, but the problem was that you were unable to decipher it. this was the first time you couldn't read him.

fear settled into your bones.

had you just ruined everything between the two of you? not just the chances of ever dating him, but your friendship as well? should you have kissed him in the first place? what kind of person did he think you were now?

what had you done wrong, and why did you ever even accept those drinks from satsuki?

suddenly the room was full of too many people, and there were too many sounds and the lights were starting to blind you and damn it you couldn't even hear yourself think. in the heat of panic, you found yourself running, murmuring mindless apologies to whoever you almost crashed into.

you didn't stop until you reached kise's balcony. it was small, barely enough for three people to fit in, but the fact that you were able to taste the crisp june night air was enough.

unfortunately, it turned out that you only had a few minutes to spend alone with your thoughts. before long, the sound of the glass door sliding open disrupted the silence. you closed your eyes, praying to whatever was above that it wasn't the one person you wanted to avoid.

"wow, you really don't want to talk to me, huh?" a gruff, low voice dryly remarked. well, shit.

your eyes flew open. "i—uh, aomine," you cleared your throat hastily, "what did i.. did i say that out loud?"

"sure did," he confirmed. you heard him walking towards you before you saw him slide into the narrow space on your left. cautiously, you snuck a glance; his expression seemed to be unbothered, but knowing what happened ten minutes ago, you wouldn't risk a bet on it.

his eyes met yours. "you've been acting off," he remarked.

you refrained from rolling your eyes, like it wasn't already clear enough. "yeah, well, the sake that satsuki gave me was.. um, expired." you lied, and quite messily too. "made my stomach feel weird."

"she made me check the expiration date before her mom bought it," aomine deadpanned, and for the umpteenth time that night you wished that the floor was kind enough to swallow you whole. "and your stomach seems fine to me."

"well you wouldn't know that," you shot back, somewhat angrily. "and why did—how did satsuki even get her mom to buy alcohol in the first place?"

"her mom was the one who suggested it," aomine shrugged. despite the twinge of surprise that you felt—you weren't exactly sure if an adult was allowed to buy alcohol for seventeen-year-olds—it was quickly washed away and forgotten, overshadowed by the look that the boy suddenly gave you.

"so, are we gonna keep dodging the topic or what?"

your shoulders sagged, your arms crossing over your chest instinctively. "what is there to talk about?" you muttered.

"look, between the two of us, you're definitely the smarter one," aomine stated bluntly. "so quit actin' like you don't know what happened back there, (name)."

a heavy sigh escaped from your lips, frustration welling up within your chest all over again. you found it quite difficult to even breathe at the moment. "i don't want to do this right now," you stated. "so please just leave and we can pretend like—"

"that's the problem right there," aomine interrupts, an unprecedented twinge of emotion filling his voice. it was anger and frustration akin to yours, yes, but there was something else—something that you could reluctantly guess stemmed from a place that he'd kept hidden until now. "you keep avoiding me like i'm the damn plague or something. i didn't even do anything wrong, and if you feel like i did, then i can't do anything about it because you're not telling me shit."

and that right there brings you to the present moment, the buildup to the storm that's about to wreak havoc and tear up the land.

"you know, ahomine, this entire thing was your fault." you hiss, every ounce of your feelings pouring out without abandon. it's messy, it's unorganized, and it's raw; maybe none of it even makes sense, or maybe all of it does. you don't bother trying to wrap your head around it because there's no use in doing so.

for once, you don't think, and you let your words spill out like water from a broken faucet.

"it's your fault because you made me feel this way about you, even though you're one of the laziest, rudest, and most obnoxious people i know, not to mention that you read those perverted magazines. but you're also one of the most loyal and genuine, and i know that you would never lie. not on the court, and not outside of it, either. and that just—a-all of it frustrates and confuses me because we're polar opposites. you say whatever's on your mind, and you don't care about what people think about it. i can't do that."

you take a moment to breathe, to slow down, and to collect your scrambled train of thought. "i think that's why i don't tell you things like this. i'm probably drunk right now, but i think you want someone who's as unafraid as you are, someone who takes charge of the situation instead of being in the background. the only time i can be bold is when i play basketball. because then it's just—"

"just you, the ball, and the person in front of you," aomine finishes. surprisingly, his tone is soft, even understanding, and you look up to meet his gaze. "i know how that feels."

"it's like nothing else matters when you're on the court," you whispers, and the boy next to you nods. "all of it is simple. it's nothing like having to deal with your emotions, and having to understand them."

"you're right about that," aomine agrees. there are a few, shocking beats of silence that ensue, both of you seeming to ponder on your individual thoughts. "but, you know, the way you kissed me back there said a lot."

your face flushes pink. "yeah, i know," you mumble, turning your head away as you rest your arms against the railing. there's an uncomfortable feeling that sinks into you, just being aware that aomine knows how you've felt about him for years. you don't remember ever feeling as exposed as you do now.

"you're a good kisser," he comments somewhat offhandedly. "makes me wonder how it'll feel like to do that again in the future."

you pause.

your mouth drops open. "huh?" you stammer embarrassingly. "you can't joke about this, aomine—"

"look at me," he interrupts, softly but firmly. with hesitation swirling within your mind, you raise your head to meet his sapphire eyes. there's no trace of humor, or scorn, or sarcasm anywhere on his face, however. in fact, the seriousness exuding from his expression feels undeniably out of character.

and yet he's never looked as breathtaking as he does now.

"i hate saying this, but i think satsuki really did succeed this time." seeing the confusion on your face, aomine explains, "i tried pretending like i didn't have feelings for you either, because like you said, it feels weird. i guess ignoring them was more convenient for me, too. but, satsuki being satsuki, i guess she got bored of us being idiots and pulled this entire thing together."

"she's an orchestrator," you mutter, astonished. "wait, so, this means that you like me too—i'm not hallucinating?"

"nope, your ears are working perfectly fine." he states. "i've liked you ever since you broke my ankles and put me on my ass back at teiko."

overcome with surprise and glee—none of this feels real, still—you can't help but snort. "weren't you pissed when i did that? i mean i remember kise drooling over me, and akashi-kun giving me a compliment, but you were definitely upset." fond memories flash within your mind as you remember the sheer embarrassment and anger on a thirteen-year-old aomine's face.

"and i was, believe me," the boy chuckles. "but that was the first time a girl played against me and won. usually, they would just crowd around me and ramble about how hot i was. it was an unexpected change, but it was nice. kind of turned me on, too."

the last part almost causes you to choke on your saliva.

"such a pervert," you accuse him, a tint of pink staining your cheeks. "i don't even wanna know the thoughts that filled your head."

"i was thinking about how great of a girlfriend you'd be," aomine grins, stepping towards you. he reaches out, his hand moving to fix the strands of hair that covered your face. "and how pretty you'd look wearing my jersey."

"we can talk about that later," you swallow, looking up at him through your lashes, the party long forgotten. "right now, all you have to think about is kissing me again."

"that's easy," he retorts, his strong arms circling around your waist protectively. aomine leans down, his eyes slowly sliding shut, and his distinctive scent—cedarwood, smoke, and a hint of sweat—washes over you as his lips slot against yours.

unlike before, the kiss isn't frenzied or desperate; still, it maintains an air of passion, which both of you can clearly feel. his hands are curious, wandering and tracing areas all over your clothed body, almost as if he's trying to imprint them into his memory. they finally rest comfortably on the small of your back, with your own hands perched on his broad shoulders.

sneakily, he bites your lip, prompting a small, sharp whimper. your mouth opens invitingly, and his tongue sneaks in, swirling around your own.

when you pull away a little while later, you find yourself panting. your chest heaves with every breath, and your knees start to feel weak. "and you say i'm the good kisser," you say breathlessly, reaching up to give him one more peck.

"well i wasn't lying, was i?" he raises his brows slightly, making you giggle. "i had to stop myself from going even further."

"nobody said you had to stop," you whisper under your breath, catching him by surprise.

"trust me, i didn't want to," aomine leans down again, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. "but we're both a little drunk right now."

his words bring you a renewed sense of clarity, or at least something resembling it. he's telling the truth, really; doing anything reckless under the influence of alcohol is quite far from being a good decision. "and i thought you were supposed to be a delinquent," you tease him harmlessly.

"even delinquents use their brain sometimes, (name)," he rolls his eyes. "besides, i'm starving right now. i wanna eat some of the onigiri that kagami made, even though he gets under my skin."

"he's a really good cook," you sigh in admiration, examining aomine's expression closely, "and he's handsome, too.."

he scowls. "watch it," the boy warns, "don't say anything you're going to regret later."

"sorry, daiki," you apologize with a grin. "it's just fun to tease you."

"whatever," aomine mutters. "tomorrow, i'll get my payback."