#Heres that promised little snippet >:3

[the-pobble-terrarium]

KING BRANCH AU DRABBLES “What… what was she like?”

Branch visibly tensed at the question. He wasn’t looking at Viva, but he could see the strained look on her face from his peripherals, could hear the plead behind her question. He turned away from it, from these.. intense emotions radiating from her. He knew it would be hard news for her, death is just… like that. It’s never easy. But seeing it in real time was different, it sort of reminded him of himself in a way, which put a curious knot in his stomach he’d much rather ignore.

“I’m sorry Viva. I can’t.” He fought to keep the waver out of his voice. It was supposed to show he was strong, that he wouldn’t let this years old death hurt him- but it only came off calloused and cold. He was never really good with tone like that, coming off rude when he meant to be sincere. It was something most of the village was used to, but Viva wasn’t really ‘most of the village.’

“Branch Please.” He could hear her encroaching on his space, inching forward in tandem with her desperate plea. “I’ve spent my whole life wondering if she was alive, wondering if I’d ever see her again. I’d at least like to know something about who she was, what she was like.” That hit home. In an uncomfortably close way honestly. Could he really deny her the solace of knowing at least a little bit about her sister? Could Branch really deny a sibling stories of their loved ones they never got to properly meet?

“…Fine.” He relented. “Poppy was… energetic, like you. She tried to see the good in everything, tried to put a smile on everyone’s face… even mine. She told me she believed ‘no one is incapable of happiness.” He paused and laughed softly at the memory, “I’m still skeptical.. She was a great person- she was brave, and funny, and she always knew just what to say to persuade you.” He was becoming shaky despite his attempts to keep still, hooking himself into the felt grass with his hands, like it would stop him from falling apart. “She loved scrap booking and giving gifts and singing and she-” His voice cracked horribly, and he had to stop for a moment. “She would have made a great leader,” he finished quietly, his waver gone but his eyes edged with water. He could feel Viva’s eyes boring into him, begging him to say more- but he wouldn’t. He had crossed a line he set years ago.

He simply got up and left, and Viva could not protest.

[yujeong]

Somehow, I now have 200 followers. I didn't expect this to make me emotional, but it does. Thank you to every single person who follows me. It means a lot ❤️

[yueebby]

indulge me? — gojo satoru

synopsis you and gojo go on an overnight mission and it goes wrong in every way

contents so. much. pining. (2.8k words of it!?), one bed trope, whipped!gojo, ooc gojo, completely self indulgent, a lot of cardiovascular talk, they’re first years in this!

notes first time i’ve written in AGES. sorry :3 ps this is a little snippet from a satosugu x reader series im thinking about starting. thoughts?

(edit: i wrote a part ii)

Gojo Satoru was born blessed. From birth and to death he will always be honored. It wasn't his fault that the Heavens delighted in him. So when Yaga had announced that he and you would be sharing an overnight mission to Kyushu, he nearly leapt in joy (lucky him)!

You, on the other hand, were less than thrilled to find out that you were going to be traveling alone with Gojo Satoru. For two whole days. It was a death sentence.

“Make sure to text me, so I know you're not dead.” Shoko looks between you and Gojo. Either your head will implode as a result of Gojo, or he is gonna be on the receiving end of your wrath. Shoko can’t wait to see which.

“Do take pictures, I heard the onsens there are incredible.” Suguru slyly adds. Satoru perks up at his comment. The two of them share a knowing look before Gojo speaks up.

“Wanna take a dip with me once we get there, [Name]?” He looks into your eyes, his lips are quirked upwards like he’s up to no good (which he is). “I promise I won’t take a peek!” He winks.

“Keep fantasizing, Gojo.”

“Oh I will.” He hums happily. The smile on his lips is kind of cute, you decide. Just a little.

— — — — — — — 

Kurokawa, you come to find out is a very small town in Kyushu. So when people start to go missing, the entire town falls into shambles. Before your trip, Yaga had made it known the enemy you’d be facing. 

“A common denominator of the missing persons is that they were all young women.” He had warned you and Gojo. “It’s an unidentified curse, but I trust that the two of you will be able to handle it.”

Three missing girls. All under the age of 25. Two of which were locals, one being a tourist. 

The moment you arrive on the island of Kyushu, your guard is higher than ever. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Gojo.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of some horny curse,” He looks down at you as the two of you make your way down a small street to your ryokan. Kurokawa was a traditional town, its pride resting on the old culture causing it to be untouched by modern architecture.

Unamused by his nonchalant attitude, you decide to ignore his vulgar comment, “What grade curse do you think we’re up against?”

He makes a noise to show that he’s thinking. “Does it really matter? It’ll be no match for me either way.”

You roll your eyes, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, we still have to figure out what happened to the victims.”

“I don’t see why that’s necessary, but okay.” Your snow haired peer dismisses. It makes you a bit envious that he doesn’t have to ever feel fear for his life. Must be nice.

The two of you arrived at your designated ryokan soon enough, it was a small town after all. Gojo leads the way with you following right after. You can’t discern any cursed energy in the building, but you still make a mental note to ask Gojo about it after you both are situated. 

An elderly lady in an orange kimono stood behind the desk, smiling at you and you returned it back happily.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a young couple here.” She says. That’s right, with the recent disappearance of young girls, there would be a sudden decrease of tourism around this part of town. “You certainly are a beautiful match!”

You gratefully accept her compliment, “Thank you, but we’re not–”

“Thanks granny!” Gojo wraps a strong arm around your shoulder. “I don’t know how I even managed to win her over!” There’s a wide grin on his face that makes your eye twitch. Leave it to him to tell people the two of you were together. Not only that but he totally disrespected the old lady with his informal talk!

“Unhand me, you!” You forcefully whisper at him, while trying to unwrap yourself from his hold. His arm does not budge even as you try to push it off. What the hell is this boy eating? Gojo chuckles with the old lady while you struggle.

“My, the two of you remind me so much of my husband and I in the days of our youth,” She sighs dreamily. Her age must be interfering with her memory because there was nothing inherently romantic going on between you and Gojo. “How long will you be staying here?”

“Only one night,” Gojo decides that he has tormented you enough and lets you go. He slides her his card and she pulls out something from the old wooden counter she stands behind. 

A single key.

Your eyes bug out. Gojo’s eyebrows raise. You laugh nervously, face feeling warmer than it was thirty seconds ago.

“There must have been a misunderstanding. We need two rooms, ma’am.” You hold up two fingers to emphasize your point. 

The smile on the old woman’s face falls, “I’m afraid I cannot do that.” Your jaw drops.

“Huh? Why not?” You press on further. Surely they could not have been booked out of all of their rooms. Tourism is at an all time low after the strange disappearances.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of the strange disappearances in the area. It’s a miracle the two of you have even decided to stay here, which I am very grateful for. That is why I must repay you back by ensuring your safety. Otherwise I must ask you to leave and stay in the next town because I will not allow you to endanger yourself so carelessly.” 

You blink. Neighboring town? That was hours away. The curse was here in Kurokawa. You can’t afford to jeopardize a mission just because of your own feelings.

Gojo’s hand is halfway to the key, but he waits for your approval. You sigh.

“It’s fine, we can do one. Thank you.” You bow your head. She smiled apologetically as she handed Gojo the key. Gojo, unbothered by the revelation, whistles happily as the lady leads the way to your suite.

— — — — — — — 

operation satoru x [name]!!!!

Gojosatowu added getosugu, shoko.ieiri

Gojosatowu You wont believe it!!! shoko.ieiri What the hell is this gc And what the hell is Operation satoru x [name]?  getosugu  how come [name] isn’t in this? Gojosatowu Ladies, ladies, one question at a time please getosugu  Expect a forehead flick for that comment shoko.ieiri  Stfu and just answer the questions Gojosatowu alright alright [name] and i are sharing a room in kyushu!! i may come out of this mission a changed man. shoko.ieiri  someone make sure [name] is still alive and well Gojosatowu I dont appreciate your lack of faith in me >:( shoko.ieiri  Keep a six feet distance from her at all times perv Gojosatowu I might have to for my own sanity. What do you think she wears to bed? shoko.ieiri  You disgust me sometimes getosugu  Only sometimes? shoko.ieiri  Let me correct myself. You disgust me. Gojosatowu Im feeling the love :(

“What are you giggling to yourself about?” You place a hand on your hips as you watch Gojo smile at his flip phone.

“Oh don’t you worry about it,” He closes it. Weird. “What’s the living situation?”

You sigh. “Despite its traditional arrangement, there is a bed.”

Gojo perks up. “Yeesh I’m glad! If I had to sleep on the floor my back would be all sore right on a mission. Y'know how annoying that is?”

You suck your teeth. “Allow me to rephrase myself. There is only one bed.” 

There is an awful silence in the room, save for your erratically beating heart. Of course the old woman decided to place you in a couple’s suite.  

“Heh.” Gojo chortles happily. “Wow, this must be a divine sign from God Himself. I mean, who are we to ignore this?”

“Don’t start,” You hold out an accusatory finger at him. “I’m gonna go request an extra futon.”

He pouts, “Don’t be like that, sharing a bed with me can’t be that bad.”

“I’m willing to bet otherwise.” You walk past him. The white haired boy watches you go like a sad puppy.

— — — — — — — 

You took your time getting an extra futon, using it as an excuse to get all of the nervousness out of your system of sharing the same room as Gojo Satoru. Sharing a room with a boy was already bad enough, but Gojo? Your heart skipped a beat (out of nervousness, you insist!).

By the time you make it back to the room, the lights are out. You assume that Gojo decided to go to sleep early. You don’t blame him. Tomorrow is gonna be a long day of hunting for the curse rampaging Kurokawa. 

The only light source in the room is coming from the bathroom. You sigh. The idiot must’ve forgotten to turn it off. Nonetheless, you were gonna go get unready either way so you make your way to the half open door.

On the sink is a complimentary toothbrush that you help yourself to. You apply some paste and–

There is a sound of something sliding shut from behind you. You look up at the mirror. Standing behind you was Gojo. Wet. And naked. 

“Oh my gosh!” You spit out your toothpaste and ran out of the room. How did you fail to see that Gojo was in the restroom? You blame it on the sliding doors separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom. Oh my gosh. Your face feels like it’s on fire. He has a six pack. And why does his stupid hair look like that when it's wet? Your heart was beating at an abnormal rate. This is so inappropriate.

Shortly after your freakout, Gojo steps out of the bathroom. There was no way you could face him now.

“Aw, don't be so shy now. It’s not like this will be the last time you’ll see me like this.” Gojo stands in the doorway. There is a towel wrapped around his waist, still leaving him indecent in your eyes.

“I don’t like what you’re insinuating Gojo! And lock the door when you’re in the restroom you creep!” You look anywhere but him.

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault, was it? You were taking so long I thought you left me here alone.” You can practically hear him pouting. “Either way, you were the one checking me out.”

Your eyes widen, “I was not checking you out! Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Don’t feel ashamed, this can all be yours,” He gestures down to his body.

“You freak.” you blanch.

He winks at you.

This was going to be a long night.

— — — — — — — 

It takes you about half an hour to calm down from the bathroom catastrophe. By now, you’re situated in your futon while Gojo is tucked on the bed. If you had to guess, it’d be nearing midnight around now. You just need to close your eyes and get some sleep before your mission tomorrow.

Except you can’t sleep.

Every time you close your eyes, your mind betrays you and an image of Gojo post shower illustrates itself in your mind. And it doesn’t help that he sleeps shirtless. You seriously need your mind cleansed.

That wasn’t your only issue. The room was sub zero. Who knew traditional ryokans had such advanced air conditioning systems? All you could hear was the air conditioning machine overworking itself. You could even argue that it was colder than Shoko’s morgue. And your sleep shirt and shorts were doing little to help insulate you. 

“Wanna come cuddle with me?” The last person you wanted to hear from breaks the silence. You pretend to be asleep. “I know you’re not asleep! My six eyes tell me that you’re shivering.” Busted.

“I am not cuddling with you.” You stare at the ceiling above you, arms crossed. How could he even propose such an idea? Has he no shame?

“Well I can’t face the old granny here if my girlfriend ends up dead by freezing!”

“I am not your girlfriend, Gojo. Nor will I die.”

“That’s not what she thinks. Plus we have a mission tomorrow, so I can’t have you getting sick on me now.”

“I’ll be fine, Gojo. Now go to sleep.”

“I run hot when I sleep, y’know. Let me be your personal heater.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning.

“I refuse.”

“Well I refuse your refusal.”

You blink.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Now c'mon,” He pats the spot next to him. “I’ll even make a wall in between us.”

You hear the bedsheets shuffle and you have to sit up to see that Gojo was stacking two pillows in the middle of the bed to prove his point. You’re nearly certain that the only thing you’ll be catching soon is a headache if you keep up with his antics. It was a tempting offer, one that you would surely accept if it wasn’t Gojo Satoru.

“Gojo, I—”

“...Please?” His voice is softer than you have ever heard it. It was unfair how Gojo was making it harder and harder to reject his offer.

A silent moment passes by.

“...Fine,” You reluctantly get up from your pathetic excuse of a futon. “But no funny business!” You warn him. 

You see Gojo perk up from the bed. He looks at you with expectant eyes, “You got it!” He gives you a thumbs up. 

Whatever. If Gojo knew what was best for him, he wouldn’t try anything. You take in a deep breath before turning to face the opposite direction of where Gojo laid. 

“Good night [Name],” You hear Gojo whisper. You sigh.

“Yeah, yeah, goodnight Gojo.”

Eyes closed, you pray a silent prayer that everything will be fine for the remainder of the mission.

— — — — — — — 

Ever since Gojo was young, his body has been used to getting little amounts of sleep. Unsurprisingly, that caused him to have a natural alarm. It was always annoying whenever he woke up at the crack of dawn on a day when he didn't need to, but luckily for him, today it proved to be a blessing. There was an unfamiliar warmth radiating onto his body. Satoru opens his eyes.

He thinks he feels all of his six eyes widen when he feels himself wrapped around another body.

There you were, in all your beauty, lying fast asleep. In his embrace. Soft snores were escaping your mouth and there were stray hairs in your face. Did he mention how beautiful you looked sleeping? He might have to ask Shoko about heart disease because of how fast his heart was beating.

Unfortunately for him, you also seemed to be drifting away from dreamland and back to reality. Your eyes flutter and your eyebrows furrow. Gojo takes this to his advantage and does the worst thing he can think of; pretend to be asleep.

When you wake up, your mind is still hazy from the good night’s rest you had gotten, but not hazy enough to realize that your body was tangled with another’s. And you’re pretty sure the pillow you had been laying on last night was not this hard. You try to delude yourself into believing that this is all a dream, but the effects of your sleep were fading.

It takes all the strength in you to summon the courage to open your eyes. To your horror, you were firmly wrapped in Gojo’s arms and your legs were intertwined.

“What the hell?” You pull yourself away from him. On the floor below the bed laid the two pillows that Gojo had set up as a makeshift wall. You stare at them utter shock.

“No, don’t go, I’ll freeze to death,” Gojo whines, miraculously waking up. You glare at him.

“Explain to me what just happened or I swear Gojo, I’m going to–” You try to threaten him, but you can’t seem to formulate anything.

Unlike you, Gojo looked unbothered by the sudden turn of events. He even looked pleased. There was a lopsided smile on his face as he sighed, “What can I say, I guess you subconsciously want me after all.” 

"I do not—"

“But if I had to guess, I’d say the room got too cold and we most likely cuddled for warmth unconsciously.” He shrugs it off like it was no big deal. You note that his hair is tousled from the night before.

You leave the warm bed you and Gojo had made. His theory was probably true, meaning it was neither of your faults. You purse your lips.

“I suppose that makes sense. I apologize for overreacting, I guess I was under the impression that we had done something lewd last night.” With that comment, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up both your mind and body.

You don’t end up seeing how red Gojo’s face got. It was foreign to feel all the blood rising to his cheeks. He takes one of his hands to slap it over his eyes before chuckling to himself. Yeah, he definitely knows why he likes you. 

All of a sudden Gojo feels like he’s on top of the world. For you, it was just a moment of weakness.

┊⋆｡˚. ੈ ┊

Extra notes:

gojo wished he and you got to go to the onsen together. 

gojo also regretted not taking a photo of you sleeping soundly in his arms. it would’ve been his new wallpaper. 

for the remainder of the trip, gojo was at an all time high, successfully locating and exorcising the curse in less than an hour.

[hoshinasblade]

second best |3| hoshina soshiro

PART 1 | PART 2 | BONUS: PART 3

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader genre: slight angst, comfort, childhood friends to lovers, a bit of that miscommunication trope snippet: hoshina soshiro always ranks second at everything in his life. god forbid he falls behind in the bid for your heart too. word count: 2k trigger warnings: a bit suggestive at the end author's note: i promised a part three so here it is, hope you guys like it! likes, replies, and reblogs are welcome but im begging you not to copy or steal my works. feel free to sign up for my taglist (which i swear im gonna use on the next fic lol), and i appreciate when people send me asks so let me know your thoughts (or send me hoshina pics, that'd be great too). my masterlist is here! also i gotta let you know that i might put the next fic on hold because i am so tempted to start a short nsfw collection instead - just one-shots so it won't be a lot of commitments. who knows cause i might write angst and nsfw at the same time 😉

soshiro's hands were trembling. you noticed because it has not happened in a while - you cannot even recall the last time you've seen the man nervous, much less shaking. you were going to himeji that morning; hoshina had snatched your backpack from you - "when i said i would make it up to ya, i mean in every way i can," he said, sounding gentle and sincere that your only choice was to let him carry your belongings and blush as he also intertwined his fingers with yours while walking.

there is this story you have been hearing for a while - the red string theory, it is called. according to it, people who are destined to be together will always find each other despite everything and anything. when you were a kid, instead of thinking it romantic, you rather thought it is frightening - fate is a difficult enemy to go against: if it is meant to be, then it will be eventually. when you grew up, you held that belief as a prayer - it means that whoever is the one chosen for you may get lost on their way to you, but they will always - always - arrive.

you glanced at hoshina soshiro and you knew you were right to believe.

it was roughly a four-hour journey from tachikawa to himeji by train, and during the entire ride, even when he fell asleep for a short while, your boyfriend did not let go of your hand. you complained about your palms being sweaty as a joke, and he only loosened his hold. you understood - he is making it up to you, but he is also making up for all the wasted time.  

"we're almost there," you told him when he startled from his nap. his bangs were slightly messy, and he bumped his head to your shoulders. "comfy," he hummed. you giggled.

you are still trying to navigate through dating a high-ranking officer of an anti-kaiju defense force unit. relationships aren't strictly forbidden but still frowned upon, which was a little bit of an issue between you and soshiro when you had a proper and long-overdue conversation about what you guys were. confessing is one thing, but when being friends is all you've known your whole life, you know adjustments are supposed to be made here and there.

 which brings you and him back to your hometown.

he didn't exactly disagree with you, but you are aware he had his reservations about the idea of visiting himeji. "oh i'm pretty sure soichiro-kun would be surprised," you said when you were still planning the trip. "yes, we should kiss in front of him and give him a heart attack," soshiro suggested, and you weren't hundred-percent sure he was just joking. maybe you didn't want him to be.

when the streets started to look familiar, soshiro noted the sudden bounce in your pace. you and he have walked in the same alley years ago - he would wait for you after class and would even make up some ridiculous excuse so you could go home together. "i used to pretend to be tired way back just so i could convince you to slow down. i wanted to spend so much time with you," you reminisced.

"i should have known ya were head-over-heels for me," he teased.

"they miss ya, soshiro-kun. ya don't have anything to worry about." the change in topic wiped the smirk off his face. he was suddenly serious, sad even. there was a part of you that regretted saying the words, but he had to hear it - you only wanted to reassure him after all.

"just that i haven't been here for a long while", he said, squeezing your hand. "i don't know if they think this place is still my home."

"ya need to have faith in the people you care about, soshiro-kun. ya need to trust that they care about ya too," you solemnly advised. "i know that doesn't make any sense sometimes, but that's how i do it."

"have i told ya i love you so much?" he responded, to which you smiled.

"only a thousand times," you joked once more.

the hoshina estate is a spacious one - you have to pass through an automated black gate that directs you to the main house, the cobblestone path lined with cherry blossom trees, their delicate petals swirling when the wind blows gently; the grandeur of the home soshiro grew up in is undeniable with its traditional japanese architecture. a man with striking features and an aura of authority was waiting at the entrance, waiting for his son.

“father,” soshiro greeted the man, bowing deeply.

“an embarrassment that your friend will be the one to bring you home when you could have done it a long time ago,” soshiro’s father scolded him. his stare at soshiro was that of disappointment, which quickly disappeared when he looked at you. “ah, my dear, come on in, hurry, come on in,” he turned and said to you, inviting you in. the hoshina patriarch had always been fond of you - soshiro’s parents had wanted a daughter and they found one in you.

soshiro rolled his eyes. “my father’s favorite child is my girlfriend, great,” he muttered.

the maids made you a great dinner, cooking soshiro’s favorite food per his father’s request. conversation was light, and it was apparent that the old hoshina wanted to catch up so badly on how his son was doing, inquiring in consecutive questions about soshiro’s rank in the unit, his experiences so far, and his long-term plans in staying with the force. soshiro’s replies are detailed, but you know he intentionally did not mention all the instances where he almost died fighting.

soshiro’s father regaled you both with stories of soshiro’s childhood antics - “do ya remember, my dear, when soshiro tripped and fell on his face after training with soichiro? we were so worried, but he only fell asleep,” he recited the memory as if it was just yesterday., his kansai accent thick on his words. the tension that had lingered in the air had dissipated as you finished your meal.

“i had the guest room prepared for ya so ya can rest for tonight,” soshiro’s father had said when his son cut him off.

“no, we can sleep together,” soshiro declared, and thinking it might have sounded improper, he spoke again. “beside each other, i mean. in my room. because we’re tired. from travelling all day," he attempted to clarify but failed.

“ah, may i look forward to a grandchild soon from ya two?” color drained from your face as you slowly closed your eyes. you fought off a laugh but failed.

“ya may, but we aren’t doing that here of all places,” soshiro argued just as his father had turned his back on the both of you, amused with himself. at least now you know where soshiro got his sense of humor.

the hot shower felt great against your tensed muscles, and if you weren’t that exhausted, you would have opted for a bath instead. soshiro wanted to speak to his father alone, so when he ushered you inside his childhood bedroom, he’d let you know that he would be gone while you were cleaning yourself up. you were relieved; you haven’t seen your own father since you were a teenager, and it would be a shame to see it happening to the person you care about the most, not if you can do something about it. and this is not to say that you wanted to fix soshiro’s life - you pointed this out to him once - but he’s had a terrible habit of holding back and assuming the worst, so you had decided that if you could help him out, you would push him to the right direction.

“didn’t ya pack clothes?” his eyes were on you immediately after he came in, finding you on the bed with your phone, wearing his shirt.

“i did, but yours look better,” you replied, holding your arms out and showing him how oversized it is on you - the sleeves are passed your elbows, the hem reaching the middle of your thighs.

“they look better on ya, i agree.” he sat on the mattress for a few moments before lying down, his legs dangling off the edge of the bed. “ya all good?”

“i am,” you said to him. “especially because i scanned yer photos when ye're still little while ya were gone,” you informed him then showing him a folder you created in your device - baby hoshina soshiro folder, you named it - full of duplicates you made of the framed pictures of your boyfriend all over the house. there’s one where he didn’t have any hair at all; there’s one where he was close to crying but appeared to be keeping the tears in; there’s one where he was missing a tooth but smiling like there’s no tomorrow. soshiro moved to take your phone away, but you were quicker than him.

“this is payback, for all the times ya weren’t talking to me.” you were alluding to the three long months when you were still an applicant to the defense force and soshiro acted like you were a stranger. he had apologized for it already, but it is nice to make fun of him sometimes so you brought it up. “that hurt my feelings, ya know.” you laid down beside him, invading his personal space, your shoulders touching his.

“i was stupid”, he said. “and it’s not like i could have come up to ya and said, hey i’m sorry for leaving ya in himeji, by the way i’m crazy for ya.”

“and all those times i thought ya had something with commander ashiro, oh god!” you exclaimed for effect. “by the way, the other recruits thought the same.”

“it’s not like that between her and me.” his gaze on you was brief. “it’s not like that with anyone else.”

“it better not be, because i’m leaking all yer baby photos to the first division if ya mess up,” you threatened him despite not needing to.

“i promise, i won’t.” he grabbed your hand from your side and linked it with his, cradling it to his chest before bringing it to his lips. “i’m not that stupid.”

soshiro’s childhood room was what you would expect from a teenage boy: a king-sized bed, a bookshelf of manga, a cabinet showcasing knives and blades. you never had the opportunity to enter his room even when you were kids, you realized. you looked up to the ceiling and you saw green dots that formed shapes - makeshift constellations, you recognized the patterns - little plastic stickers that you glue to surfaces. “are those supposed to be stars?”

soshiro sighed, his arm on top of his face. “yeah, uh - remember when uh - i think that was in junior high, and ye're so into astronomy? i thought it’d be a good idea to know the names of the stars to impress ya, so i started trying to memorize them.”

you shifted to face him, speechless. maybe if you had known this, if you had known the other things you are certain now that soshiro had done and was willing to do for you, you wouldn’t have wasted years questioning your place in his life and deciphering his feelings. a wave of warmth washed over you as you reached out and lifted his arm off his face, meeting his eyes.

soshiro’s lips felt as soft as it looks like, you thought as you kissed him. you pushed yourself into him, and he pulled you tighter until it seemed there was not enough air for you to breathe - until your chests were pressed together it was as if your hearts were beating as one. something sparked inside you; the sensation of being so close to soshiro about to consume you from within. his hand crawled to your hips and remained there. you drew back a bit after that, and when you saw the panicked look on his face, you kissed him again.

“i love you,” you told him in between pants.

the night went on, and by the end of it, hoshina soshiro discovered that his favorite sound is you moaning his name.

[starmocha]

Remember when I said the Grassland!Sylus childhood friends/arranged marriage/soulmates AU was at around 4.6k words?

she grew and I still have like three scenes I need to finish writing, but instead of doing that, I kept writing new scenes and...I think I lost control of the story and my life (╥_╥)

So I'm posting another snippet, because...my brain is tired and I really, really, really want to finish this by Sunday because I have another AU wip that I'm also obsessed with I mean I need to finish part 3 of that other Sylus breeding kink fic I promise it's coming

Reminder that this story will include light breeding kink, pregnancy kink, smut, body worship, gratuitous usages of terms of endearment ("my bride" and "my beloved"), Sylus being grossly in love with you, basically lots of fluff. Anyhoo...

The following morning you were lazing in the field as the flock of sheep grazed peacefully all around you. The warm sunlight had you yawning, already feeling yourself being lured by the tempting sun into drifting back to sleep. As the time passed, your eyes felt heavier, and you nodded off a little. Another yawn escaped before you decided a few minutes of rest wouldn’t hurt. Slowly, you closed your eyes, letting them rest for a few minutes. “Is this what you do when I’m not here?” You immediately opened your eyes when you heard Sylus’ approaching voice. You let out a soft surprised squeak when he knelt down next to you, his face looming just mere inches from yours. He was smirking. “Lazing around and sleeping? What if your sheep gets stolen by wild beasts, my beloved?” You glared at him. “I was not sleeping. I…was blinking.” “Your eyes were closed for far longer than a blink should be.” “I had some dust in my eyes.” “I’m quite sure I heard you snoring.” You blushed and shoved his face aside, glowering when he started laughing at you. “Did you come all the way out here just to tease me?” “Mmhmm,” he answered with a pleased nod as he sat back with his legs propped up. His elbow rested on top of his leg while he cradled his chin in his hand. You noticed in his other hand was a wreath crafted from leaves and berries. Your heart quickened and you gasped softly. You looked at him expectantly. It was at that moment that you noticed the dark bags under his eyes. You crawled over to him and he sat back, allowing you to settle in between his long legs. You reached up and touched his face. “Did you not sleep last night?” you asked him worriedly. He simply smiled and shook his head. Without a word, Sylus placed the wreath on top of your head. You reached up and touched it tentatively as you looked at him confused. “I wanted to finish this for you,” he explained, smiling, “Just as I had thought. This suits you.” “R-really?” “Mmhmm,” he hummed again, nodding. He leaned in to steal your lips. “You look beautiful.” “Sylus…” You could feel your cheeks warming up as he spoke. “Now everyone will know you are mine and I am yours.” You felt touched by his gesture. Without thinking, you threw your arms around his neck, surprising him into losing his balance. Sylus laid on the grass with you on top of him. You grinned and kissed him happily. He looked up, gasping softly when he saw the sunlight had formed a radiant halo behind your head. How…ethereal... He smiled, his hand gently grasped your chin, his thumb brushing over your soft, trembling lips. “We are already promised to one another,” he said, “but if I may be presumptuous, I would still like to ask.” You looked down at him confused. “My beloved,” he said, voice soft and sincere, “will you be my bride?” You stroked his cheek, and as you leaned down closer to his face, your wreath tilted on your head. “What do you think?” He smiled. “Your wreath is going to fall off.” “You’ll put it back on for me, right?” He huffed in amusement at your audacious question, but he nodded. “Yeah,” he said, reaching up to fix the wreath for you, “I will…my bride.” For that brief moment, you felt like your heart had stopped, and then you smiled again as you leaned in and kissed him, feeling his strong arms wrapped around you and holding you close to his body. “This is my vow to you, my bride” he said, “There is only you in my eyes. In this life and all of the lifetimes afterwards, I will always choose you.” “Same for me,” you answered, gazing back at him fondly. You stroked his cheek, letting yourself drown in those passionate crimson eyes. “I will always find you,” you promised, “In all of our lives together, I will always find you and choose you, my love.” Your ardent words beckoned his lips to yours, and for the rest of the day, you lay together under the warm morning sun on the grassland, lost in your own world of bliss.

[borathae]

↳ Index [Snippet #51 - Sad Boy]

"When Jungkook comes home sad from work and you cheer him up."

Genre: Fluff, Slice of Life

Warnings: mention of losing one's partner to death, Koo is a sad boi after work, but she cheers him up, he is a little shit and she is just as much of a little shit, hehe they're annoying <3, and sooooooo in loveeee!!!, casual non-sexual nudity, backhugs with non-sexual fondling of the teeds, he is just the cutest <3

Wordcount: 1.8k

a/n: i was struck by the random thought that ogc!koo would most definitely cry to his wifey if one of his customers had a tattoo wish with a sad backstory, so this snippet was born hihi he is actually the patootiestest <3 i luv him <3

You didn’t have work today and therefore made dinner. Jungkook should be home any second now and you are really excited for it. You made some of his favourite tonight because you wanted to make him happy. Not that there is a day where you don’t want to see him happy, but you felt like surprising him tonight.

Bam has been in the kitchen with you when his ears suddenly perk up. He lifts his head and sniffles, then suddenly stands up from where he was resting to run away. You know exactly what this means. Jungkook is home. 

Feeling like greeting him by the door tonight, you follow Bam. 

You find him and Jungkook in the hallway. The latter is kneeling, hugging Bam as tightly as possible. 

“Hey there, my sweetheart”, you greet him. 

Jungkook lifts his head, giving view to his teary eyes. 

“Did you cry? What happened?” you gasp, instantly jumping into worried mode. “Kookie baby, what happened?”

Jungkook stands up and closes the distance, “I had a really sad day”, he says, hugging you tightly. He lets out small sound, melting into you.

“No, I’m sorry to hear this. Did something happen that made you sad?” you ask him, holding him and rubbing the back of his head.

“Yes”,  he squeaks out, having to sob. 

“Noo Googie, I’m here. Let it all out.”

“___ you, you can’t ever die. You have to promise me to, to never die.” 

“I mean that’s a rather ambitious wish. Why are you asking me that all of a sudden?” 

Jungkook coughs out a sob, making a sad sound.

“Let’s sit down first, okay?” 

“Yes, okay”, he whimpers.

You guide him to the living room, sitting down next to him and holding his hands. The walk from the front door to the sofa gave him enough strength to finally tell you what made him so incredibly sad today. He does so with his head lowered and his sweaty hands clasping yours as if he needed your touch to survive.

“I had a customer today and, and he wanted a tattoo and it was”, his voice quivers in tears, “it was his wife’s star sign and then I started and he cried and told me that his wife died a week ago and that he wants to keep her with him always. It was so sad”, he whimpers, “he cried through the entire session and I cried with him and it made me so sad and made me think of how it would be lose you and, and you can’t die, ___ please you have to let me go first, I can’t go through losing you.”

“Oh Kookie, you sweetest person you”, you breathe, scooting closer to drape your arm over him, “this must have been such an emotional moment. I’m sorry that you had to go through this.” 

“It was so sad. I had to, to take breaks because I kept crying so much”, he drops his head on your shoulder, “my head hurts so bad and I have ringing in my ears. I’m sad, please can you promise me not to die before me?” 

“So I should deal with you losing you?”, you ask in a chuckle. 

“Yes.”

You laugh. He laughs with you, but sniffles vividly.

“You’re a doofus.”

“A really sad doofus.” 

You snicker, kissing his forehead.

“Mhm, I promise you that I won’t leave you for a long time. I don’t wanna think about this day for too long because it’ll make me sad too, but I promise you it’s still going to be a long time till it happens.”

“I promise you too. And I love you so much. You’re my soulmate and my best friend and my life partner. Everything I do, I do for you.” He lifts his head, cradling your cheeks. His eyes, although teary, are filled with love. “Life for me began when I met you. I knew from the very first moment I saw you in Seokjin’s diner that I loved you. And ever since that moment, everything I did was for you. I love you, ___, I always have.” 

“Oh god Googie, I love you too.” You cup his cheeks. “My soulmate, my best friend and my parter for life.”

Jungkook smiles, leaning into your touch.

“Also my cute, sappy doofus.”

He giggles, agreeing with a nod.

“If I didn’t tell you how I felt tonight, I would have imploded. Witnessing my customer grieve so deeply really hurt me. I felt his pain as if it was mine.”

“Of course you did. You have such an empathetic, loving soul. I’m sure that he felt deeply comforted to be understood this way. I’m sorry that it made you feel so sad though.”

“Thank you”, he mumbles and sniffles, “I feel better already. Talking about it really helped. Thank you for listening. I love you  so much.”

“I love you too and I’m always happy to listen. We’re a team, we go through everything together.” 

He nods his head, eyes softening. 

“Maybe we could die together. When we're old like in- Oh no I’m crying again - like in The Notebook. ___, I’m so sad”, he wails, throwing his head back dramatically. 

“Gosh you, come here”, you chuckle fondly, hugging him again. 

“They were so in love and went together. I can’t do this today.”

“Gosh you, it’s okay. I’m right here.” 

“I can’t do this, please just melt into me.”

“I’m trying, I really am”, you tease, ruffling his hair. “You know I love you, don’t you?”

“I love you too, so much.”

“And I made Tangsuyuk tonight with lots of different sides.” 

“Wow, Tangsuyuk”, Jungkook whispers, forgetting all about crying at the mention of his favourite dish. “My favourite. Thank you so much.”

“Of course, everything for you my darling.” 

He lifts his head, letting you wipe his tears and snot.

“No, don’t. It’s yucky.”

“It is. So yucky”, you agree and scrunch your nose, “you snotty baby you.” 

A shy smile washes over his face. It morphs into a shocked gasp when seconds later you wipe his snot into his shirt.

“Did you just wipe my snot on my shirt?”

“Mhm I did”, you grin, standing up to run away from him, “what are you gonna do about it?”

Jungkook feels his heart flutter. When you are being playful like this, he forgets all about his sadness. He jumps to his feet, chasing you all the way to the kitchen.

“Come here you”, he calls after you.

You squeak and increase your steps, making him laugh and do the same.

He catches up with you, swooping you off your feet. You squeal and cackle, throwing your head back in joy as he twirls with you. 

After the twirling he has the audacity to wipe his nose into your shirt, snickering boyishly at the yelp of complaint you let out. 

He sets you down, laughing giddily when you push him away gently.

“That was so much. Why did you have to do that? Eww I can literally see the slime stick to the fabric.” 

Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back and rubbing your waist. 

“Tch, you’re rancid”, you say, swiping his hands away. You pull your shirt over your head.

“Baby wow”, he gasps, eyes instantly landing on your bared chest. “No bra?” 

“We’ve been living together for how many years and you still get surprised that I don’t wear that shit at home?” you ask him, leaving the kitchen. 

Jungkook follows you. You take the stairs down to the cellar where you have your laundry room. It is a very beautiful and homely cellar and feels more like an underground living area than an actual cellar. 

“Your boobs never lose their power. Obviously I’ll keep being surprised by them”, Jungkook says.

You scoff in amusement, wiping some disinfectant on the fabric. Jungkook is going to do laundry tomorrow either way, but you just want to get rid of the worst. 

Suddenly you have two hands on your breasts and two arms around you, a naked chest against your naked back and lips on your shoulder. 

“What are you doing?” you ask him in a chuckle, leaning into his embrace. 

“Just making sure that you’re real”, Jungkook whispers, guiding his kisses up to your neck and ear. 

“And you had to take your shirt off for that?” 

“It was dirty too”, Jungkook says and takes your earlobe between his teeth to tug on it gently, giving your breasts a playful squeeze at the same time. 

You shiver and laugh at the same time, placing your hands over his’. 

“For someone who had a sad day, you’re being very touchy right now.” 

“I’m not trying anything just…” he sighs against your neck, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as possible, “...I get happy when you laugh. And if my goofiness makes you laugh, I keep doing it.”

“It does. You do. You make me laugh a lot”, you say, having to laugh a second later when he blows raspberries on your neck. “Not like this! I hate this, it tickles”, you squeal in giggles, fleeing him as he goes in for a second attack. “Jeon Jungkook, keep doing this and I’ll die right now out of spite.” 

“No, you won’t. I won’t let you”, he says, picks you up and sits you down on the laundry machine. He is between your legs, hands on your waist and lips claiming yours in a kiss. 

You smile and hum, tangling your fingers in his hair. He smiles as well, tugging on your lower lip before putting distance between your faces.

You cradle his cheeks, rubbing them softly. He leans into your touch, rubbing your waist. His eyes are spilling over with love and as he speaks, he does so in a soft voice.

“I just love being alive with you”, he says. He caresses your waist, your hips, your stomach and chest before landing on your face. “I love the way your skin feels, warm and soft. I love the way your hair falls, so beautiful and perfect. I love the way your eyes are so full of life and beauty and love how soft your lips are. You’re perfect and I love you.”

You smile, kissing his thumb as he guides it over your lips.

“I love you too, Kookie.”

“No but, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Jungkook lowers his eyes shyly, “I’m sorry, it’s getting too much, right?”

You tilt his head back up, mirroring his adoring gaze, “this could never get too much, my sweetie.”

He smiles giddily.

“Although I do fear that dinner might be getting cold if we keep being so sappy.”

“Oh dinner! I totally forgot. Wow baby, I’m so happy to be home”, he says, widening his eyes dramatically and rubbing his own tummy, “I’m so ready to eat, wah baby seriously.”

You snicker, “me too, baby.” You jump off the washing machine and take his hand. “First I wanna put on a shirt though. I’m not down to get sweet and spicy sauce on my titties.”

“Why not? You have me. I can clean everything you get on your boobs. I promise, I’m an expert.”

“You’re a dork, that’s what you are”, you say in a chuckle and a fond roll of your eyes.

[jude-duarte-wannabe]

husband material

it is finally here! as promised my loves <3

so to keep my formula one girlies satisfied and fueled, i put this together until my university work slows down for a bit which may be a little hard since this term we are covering all the theory topics of my business degree like accounting and law, i'm sorry my lovely's <3 i will try and write when i can but it's literally only week one and i've already got three assessments due next week <3

pairing; lewis hamilton x phoebe windsor [original character]

blurb; this is a list of cute things husband lewis hamilton and his wife phoebe windsor with features from their daughter sage hamilton do in my smau series that i'm working on called the billion dollar baby, this story features a original character but for your reading pleasure, i've used 'you' and 'y/n' in this little snippet <3

currently playing; my love mine all mine by mitski "cause my love is mine, all mine, i love mine, mine, mine. nothing in the world belongs to me but my love mine, all mine, all mine"

how you two met;

you are friends with my original character broadway actress marceline 'marcy' bennett [from my story broadway bug] who is dating charles leclerc.

you've been best friends for the past fifteen years of your lives and you attended the silverstone race with her, hanging out in the ferrari garage most of the time.

you met lewis when you ran into roscoe and stopped to pat him due to you being a dog lover and having one yourself.

marcy ended up introducing you to lewis, who was absolutely floored the very first time he met you.

and i'm talking speechless, stumbling over his words and weak in the knees down bad for you [the way i want this]

when it comes to your jobs;

your relationship is secret for the longest time, you two love having a private relationship and just being in the moment with eachother so when your relationship is finally revealed to the world no thanks to paparazzi, you can finally support your husband at his races.

and when you can't make it to a race, you always send him the same text message.

your often filmed at races in the garage jumping up and down.

he gives you a necklace with his race number on it but unknown to him you already have it tattooed on you.

your a singer and he often ends up helping you write lyrics even though your styles are completely different from eachothers.

he promotes your company that you have on the side selling bourbon, your company being called the chamomile company.

your company is a sponsor for whatever team lewis happens to be apart of, where lewis goes, your companies sponsorship follows.

whenever you are on tour and he can make it to a show, he's often filmed in the VIP tent yelling "that's MY wife"

and you two are often the paddock favs in your matching or mostly matching outfits. [i did my best]

whipped;

this boy is so utterly and completely whipped for you.

he is completely weak in the knees for anything that you do.

he's a utter gentleman and pulls out every chair and opens every single door for you.

he carries both your heels and your bags and sometimes when he's feeling extra loving he'll just carry you.

he steals your perfume when he leaves for the race season so that he can spray it the hotel pillows to make it seem like your with him, you always have to have two bottles for this very reason.

this man will not stop gushing about you, in interviews or in conversations with other drivers, george is begging him end of season to just shut the hell up.

he is in love with your voice and will often call you at any time of the day just to hear you talk.

before you two even started dating, he was told of your love of flowers my marcy and sent them to you all the time and he kept doing it long after you got together and even after you got married.

you've just come to expect random surprise bouquets at this point, you have a whole instagram story highlight dedicated to the bouquets you've gotten.

kisses, cuddles and all thing cute;

lewis will often wake you up with kisses along your shoulders and back.

if your standing together and his hands on your hips, it's almost always likely that his thumbs are under your shirt hem and gently rubbing your skin.

cheek kisses galore, whenever he passes you in fact.

belly kisses, even before you were pregnant, he would just lay between your legs and kiss at your belly imaging what you would look like pregnant.

whenever you've been apart for long amounts of time, whenever you see him again, your sprinting to get to him and just so eager to have his lips on yours.

random surprise kisses are a definite.

and if lewis is cuddling you from behind standing or laying in bed, he's bound to be nuzzling against your neck, placing sweet little kisses the skin.

he kisses all of your tattoos and even sometimes traces them in content silence and peace.

you will also do the same with him from time to time.

you two are always holding hands and you both find it bittersweet to let go.

if your sitting next to lewis and your tried from a long day of travel, your head is resting on his shoulder while he plays with your hair.

sudden hugs from behind from both of you are a thing, one time you surprised him at a race and when you hugged him from behind, lewis freaked out but calmed down as soon as he heard your soft whispered "i love you lew"

your a stomach sleeper and lewis will just lightly run his fingers up and down your spine while you sleep.

there is moments when your face is squished in between lewis fingers while he kisses your cheek.

you both grew up in england and so if one if you wakes up before the other, you make eachother proper english tea.

when he cuddles you from behind while just standing around in the garage and the camera captures you wriggling in his arms.

"ugh.. bub stop moving" lewis would whine and pull you tighter in his grip to which you would protest but stop when he says "you feel too good in my arms to let go just yet" while he nuzzles against your cheek.

when you two are both on a break and this man wants to get out of bed early, you can bet you are dragging his ass back to bed "not today you don't" with a cute grumpy look on your face.

THE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE!!!

you often have to stand on your tippy toes to kiss lewis and sometimes if your in the garage, a mechanic will give you a step stool so you can kiss or even just hug him properly.

lewis is the kind of husband to always give you the first bite of his food cause he knows you want to try it but just won't admit it.

you will pull lewis in by his jacket to kiss him.

he'll blast your music in the garage.

if he comes home during a break from the race season but you had errands to run, lewis will often find notes like this.

if lewis gets bored which can happen really easily and he texts you but doesn't get a response, the texts will often get cute aggressive, like if your in a meeting and your phone is on silent once it's over you often show your manager the texts and how peeved lewis gets over you not answering him for an extended period of time.

and there was a moment after you moved in with him and you guys were in your honeymoon phase that you were so excited to spend the first day in your now shared home together that you woke him up by jumping on the bed, yelling "get up, get up, get up! it's a very pretty morning!" but lewis who had come home late the previous night from a sponsorship event just put his hands on your legs as you stood over him to stop you from jumping around, gazed up you with soft sleepy eyes and muttered "do you know what else sounds real pretty... sleep" and then he tugged you back down and wrapped you in a cuddle.

the animals;

roscoe is a cuddler and often intrudes on your intimate moments or romantic cuddles cause he feels left out.

you two are dog parents well before becoming real parents but even your dogs have different vibes.

and before you met lewis you were a cat mum too, to a calico cat named boba who seemed to inherit your adhd and hyperactivity, you know this by the video's lewis will send you of her when your away on tour or just cause she was being strange per usual.

nicknames + cute things lewis says;

lewis's nicknames for you include; mama, sweetcheeks, baby girl, little one, wifey, mrs hamilton and my personal fav bub.

your nicknames for him include; papa bear, baby boy, lew, hubby and my lifeline.

when lewis get's approached by your fans and they ask "are you-" this man won't even let them finish their sentence before he's very proudly blurting out "hell yeah i am... i'm y/n's husband"

down and dirty;

you wearing lewis's clothes is one of his biggest turn on's.

there is no quickies with lewis, this man likes to take his time.

he is in love with your legs.

panty band snaps, he loves hearing you squeal every time he does it.

the both of you are suckers for praise.

another turn on for him is when you wear his clothes for an extended period of time and then end up smelling like him.

he loves being able to eat you out, he'll drop to his knees just about anywhere.

and let's finish on a cute note with family;

lewis is very over protective when your pregnant, if your walking through the paddock or a high traffic area or anywhere basically, he's got you tucked tightly against his side and if your sitting, his hand will always be on the bump.

he dedicates his race wins to you and your daughter; sage.

roscoe is sage's own personal bodyguard, roscoe loves that little girl so much that while you were pregnant, he would lay with his head resting on your belly like he knew his future best friend was growing within.

he'll often message you during the season asking for bump updates while your pregnant with sage but it turns out that you happen to be pregnant at the same time as marcy and so lewis will often get a picture of your bumps together and because he and charles are teammates at this point, he'll chuckle and show charles the photo who just has this lovesick smile on his face.

and i think it's safe to say that sage is a daddy's girl through and through, in fact she has lewis wrapped around her little finger even if it does scare the crap out of him the minute she shows an interest in racing.

i hope you guys enjoyed and feedback is very much welcome, love you lovely's <3

[alessiasfreckles]

amnesia - part 6 (ona batlle x reader, alexia putellas x reader, ona batlle x alexia putellas)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

a/n: this is a short one, sorry! but the next chapter is coming and will be a lot longer x

-------

“We can’t tell her,” Alexia said after a moment of silence. “She’s only just started getting her memories back, I don’t want to overwhelm her. She’s already had to deal with so much in the past few weeks.”

“Fuck,” Ona repeated. “I should never have come here. I just got her to forgive me, to trust me again, and now this, fuck!”

“It’s okay,” Alexia said, trying to soothe the younger player. “It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.”

“How? I promised her, no more lying! She’ll never forgive us.”

“It’s not… lying, necessarily. It’s just not telling her something,” Alexia said, sounding like she was trying to convince herself of that fact just as much as she was trying to convince Ona. “Not telling isn’t the same as lying.”

“Mierda,” the brunette dragged her hands down her face. “This can’t happen again.”

---

You hadn’t heard anything from Alexia or Ona all day, which was a little odd, but you supposed that they were at training and it was to be expected that they couldn’t be on their phones 24/7. Still, you found yourself missing them, both of them. 

Plus, you were bored, and started to feel frustrated about all of the hazy spots in your memory. So, you did what anyone in your position would do and googled yourself. First you read through your wikipedia page, which, to be fair, you’d already done a couple of times since waking up. Nothing really stood out there, except for some lines under ‘Personal life’ that detailed your involvement in the LGBTQ+ community. 

Where else could you find out more about yourself? You deliberated for a minute before going on Twitter and searching your name - you had a hunch that you’d been told not to look yourself up on social media before, that it was something most players tried to avoid. Still, you figured that social media would probably give you some more information, even if it was just about what people thought of you.

Once the search loaded, your laptop was flooded with posts about your accident, people theorising about what had happened, how you were doing. Scrolling back a little, you found posts with pictures of you and Alexia at the café you’d gone to together, with captions talking about the two of you. Some of them speculated what you were doing, if you were dating - you had gathered that your relationship with Ona wasn’t public knowledge, although a lot of people liked to talk about whether or not you were together.

As you kept scrolling, you realised that there was a fairly large amount of people who were convinced that it was Alexia you were dating, not Ona. You looked at photos posted of the two of you, people gushing over the way you were looking at each other, the way Alexia would touch you, her hand on your shoulder, your arm. You saw countless edits of the two of you, snippets of videos where you were deep in conversation or laughing together, Alexia’s smile always directed at you.

For a brief moment you wondered why the two of you weren’t dating, why it was you and Ona, and then felt guilty for even having that thought. You loved Ona, you knew that, you could feel it throughout your body, permeating your bones. Still, the thought remained at the back of your mind, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.

By the time 4pm rolled around and Ona finally rang your doorbell, you were so bored and sick of your own thoughts you could scream. 

“Thank god you’re here,” you said as she came in. “I’m so bored I’m going to rip my hair out.”

“Oh, so you just want me around to keep you entertained?” Ona asked, a mischievous grin on her face. “I see how it is.”

“Yep,” you shrugged. “Gotta keep things interesting somehow, you know?”

Ona swallowed down the guilt rising in her throat as she thought about that morning. She couldn’t let you know anything had happened. It wasn’t going to happen again. It was a one-off, a mistake. “What have you been up to today?” she asked brightly.

Your stomach twisted as you thought about the videos of you and Alexia. “Not much,” you quickly said. “I looked myself up online a bit, but there’s only so many times I can read my own wikipedia page before I start to feel like a narcissist.”

Ona laughed, not questioning your day’s activities any further, and the wave of relief you felt was tinged with shame.

[rqbossman]

I found out about tma from my friend because he asked me to make an edit of michael distortion and got into it a few months later. I LOVE TMA. I mostly listened to the whole thing three times when I was mostly offline because I have the 200 episodes downloaded on YouTube and now I'm finding out that there's some stuff I missed, there's bloopers, q&a and I was in the wiki because i wanted to see how many times the admiral was mentioned and theres one what the ghost episode? IM GOING INSANE. I love tma. I think it's rotting my brain... it's everywhere, it's in my veins. I need to know everything but when I try to search these things up on YouTube it only shows me rusty quill gaming which I will be watching later but where do I find the other stuff where is the best place to listen to tma and find every extra lore even if it's just the tiniest squeeze of lore? I need to know y'all really did an amazing job with tma, I don't think I'm ever going to get tired of listening to it. I need to relisten to it before hell— I mean... School starts again. Lord save us for another year of merciless torture. Also I was trying to type this fast and forgot to say hi. hi Mr Alex, I hope you're having an amazing day/night when you see this. I promise to listen to all the podcasts rusty quill has after I learn every little squeeze of tma lore. Where is the best place to listen to and learn every little squeeze of information of all of rusty quill podcasts? (I absolutely did not install Tumblr just to ask this what do you mean 😓😓😓)

Lovely to hear from you and thankyou for the kind words. To list good locations for TMA Lore: 1) The podcast feed is obviously first port of call and includes some bonus materials between seasons 2) Our Patreon has an absolutely enormous amount of content in there now and I believe it should at this point be organised into collections so you can just look up TMA and it's all there for you (although that is behind a paywall) 2) Any video QNA's/events etc. not included in the main feed should be on our twitch channel. 3) Rustyquill.com has various links dotted around that have snippets too 4) The fan wiki is a very strong resource. Like any wiki there is the odd error here or there but for the most part its astonishingly accurate and detailed. 5) Special mention to whoever keeps our TV Tropes pages up to date. It was when I saw a proper entry for The Magnus Archives on that site that I actually started to call myself a "proper" writer.

[d1s1ntegrated]

shiggy with a s/o who’s equally as much of a loser as him :3 like they probably met in a discord vc (he’s the mod) or a league of legends match and he probably hates them at first and then gets a lil crush on them when they helped him mid-game or smth!!

thank u <3

hi love! i am working on a full-length fic where this is literally the entire plot omgomgomg, i'll post a little snippet here!

its still a wip so it wont be perfect but its first person perspective in this part, and i'm thinking of going back and forth between povs to show shig and readers sides equally.

also, reader is fem/afab, same age as shig, and alt. she has a quirk, too (not a healing one either).

this one does include quirks also! but it doesn't get into them for a bit, just a few convos.

some tags for the work entirely: slow burn, enemies to lovers, dabi x reader, shiggy x reader, reader is Not mentally stable, but no one else is either, the server is all the LOV and some others, incel behavior, boys being gross

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

i slide my headset off as we log off for the night and head to my bed, yawning as i climb in. i turn my lamp off and from my bedside table, i hear the infamous chime of discord as my screen lights the room. i groan and roll over, checking the message.

𝔡𝔲𝔰𝔱2𝔡𝔲𝔰𝔱

↪thx 4 playing tn, u weren't half bad

↪btw sorry for threatening to ban u for posting memes in general

i read the messages slowly and type out my response.

𝖙𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖊𝖘𝖙

↪gg dude, and np.

↪promise i wont spam ur precious server w memes again

↪gn bro

i turn my phone back off and close my eyes, only to hear my phone go off again. i sigh, contemplating on ignoring it, but i lazily grab it anyways.

𝔡𝔲𝔰𝔱2𝔡𝔲𝔰𝔱

↪would u ever wanna vid call :)

↪u can say no. its ok

i frown at the message for a minute. this is the same guy who, about an hour ago, was screaming at me for not being fast enough in game, calling me a fucking pleb.

but other than that...he was funny. and nice to talk to.

𝖙𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖊𝖘𝖙

↪for sure, we can tmr.

i type out a half-assed response but feel a ping of excitement inside of me. i fall asleep with my phone on my chest, waiting for a reply.

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

i wake up around 1pm, the daylight searing through my curtains. i feverishly reach for my phone, only to find it flung off the bed. i drape myself off the side to reach it, eager to read any messages.

i flit through the random notifications, only to find disappointment. i open up discord, wondering if maybe i just fell asleep with my phone on, but there's no response from him. i see him active and type out a message, ultimately deleting it. if he wants to respond, he will.

i haul myself out of bed and head to the shower, leaving my phone behind, slightly jaded knowing i was left on read. i let the warm water wash over me, soaking up the few minutes of peace before i exit and get dressed. i continue ignoring my phone until i hear a ping. i rush over to it, feeling slightly embarrassed that i'm this concerned already. i open discord again, expecting a message from him, but it's not there. instead, a string of messages from someone else sits unopened. my brows furrow and i open the dm confused.

𝙗𝙡𝙪𝙚𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙢𝙚

↪yo

↪u played ovw w us last night right

↪u should play again tn w me, pretty.

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

again this is just a snippet >_< but i hope it tickles some anticipation ahhhhhhhhh. ik there isnt a lot sorry ;-;

[moonselune]

Hey! Big fan of your work, would you ever do a hurt / comfort fic or snippet for the BG3 boys (rolan included maybe?) for durge after receiving the information / memories of what happened with Kressa Bonedaughter?

https://x.com/bhaalsprincess/status/1806146510930792898?s=46

sorry idk if the link works :(

For this we are going to pretend that Rolan is part of your party, also I realised after I got half way through that I wrote it as the boys hurt/comfort rather than durge hurt/comfort 😅 Hope you still like it tho <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

Kressa Bonedaughter’s voice resonates in your mind like a chill wind cutting through the remnants of the day’s warmth. You remember her eyes glinting with unsettling affection as she recounted the memories of your shared past.

That night, you sit by the campfire, the flames casting dancing shadows around you. The others have retired, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The crackling of the fire is a comforting, familiar sound, but it does little to ease the strange unease that Kressa’s words have stirred within you.

Gale approaches, his footsteps soft on the grass. He sits beside you, his presence a steady, comforting weight. For a while, he says nothing, simply watching the flames. Then, he turns to you, and you see the tears glistening in his eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me it was bothering you?" he asks, his voice choked with emotion.

You look at him, surprised. "Gale, I told you, I don't remember any of it. It doesn't bother me."

"But it bothers me," he says, the tears spilling over. "The thought of what you went through… what she did to you… It tears me apart inside."

You reach out, taking his hand in yours. "Gale, it's in the past. I survived. I'm here now, with you. That’s all that matters."

He shakes his head, his grip tightening around your hand. "No, it's not that simple. The pain, the suffering—you shouldn't have had to endure any of it. And the fact that you don't remember… It scares me. What else might be lurking in your past? What other horrors did you endure?"

His tears fall freely now, and seeing him like this, so vulnerable, breaks something inside you. You pull him into your arms, holding him tightly as he cries against your shoulder.

"It's alright," you whisper, your own voice trembling. "I'm alright. You don't have to cry for me."

"I can't help it," he murmurs, his words muffled against your shoulder. "I love you, and the thought of you in pain… It hurts so much."

You hold him close, rocking slightly, the fire crackling softly beside you. The weight of his emotions, the depth of his love—it grounds you in a way you hadn't realized you needed.

"I'm here now," you say again, more firmly this time. "And I'm not going anywhere."

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. His tears have left tracks down his cheeks, and his eyes are red, but there's a fierce determination in his gaze.

"I know," he says, his voice steadier now. "But promise me something. If you ever remember… if those memories ever come back… don't face them alone. Come to me. Let me help you."

You nod, the sincerity in his eyes making it impossible to refuse. "I promise."

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, and for a moment, the world feels right again. As you sit by the fire, holding each other, you feel a sense of peace. The past may be dark and filled with pain, but the present, with Gale’s love, it shines brightly enough to keep the shadows at bay.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

You return to camp, your body exhausted but your mind buzzing with fragments of memories and emotions, stirred up by the wicked Kressa's words. As you approach the campfire, you see Astarion pacing around it, his movements agitated and furious. His usually composed demeanor is shattered, replaced by a storm of emotions. He looks up as you approach, his eyes blazing with anger.

"How dare she," he spits, his voice trembling with rage. "How dare she do that to you!"

You raise an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on your lips. "Astarion, I don't even remember it. It's like hearing a story about someone else."

His fury only intensifies at your nonchalance. "A story about someone else?" he repeats incredulously. "It was you! She tortured you and you act like it doesn't matter!"

You can’t help but be amused by his passion, which only serves to infuriate him further. "Astarion, it's in the past. I can't remember it, so it doesn't affect me."

He stops pacing and steps closer, his eyes burning with intensity. "It affects me," he says through gritted teeth. "The thought of you suffering like that… it's unbearable. I wish I could kill her all over again, make her pay for every moment of pain she put you through."

You reach out, placing a hand on his arm. "But she's gone, Astarion. We defeated her. It's over."

His muscles are tense under your touch, and he takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "You don't get it," he says, his voice softer but still filled with anger. "I care about you. I can’t just brush it off like you can."

You squeeze his arm gently, feeling the tension slowly ebbing away. "I know you care," you say, your voice gentle. "And I appreciate it more than you know. But right now, what I need is to focus on the present, on what we can control."

He looks into your eyes, his anger giving way to concern. "And what if those memories come back? What if you start to remember everything she did to you?"

You take a deep breath, the possibility of those memories surfacing a distant, unsettling thought. "If they do, then I’ll deal with it. And I’ll have you by my side to help me through it."

He pulls you into a tight embrace, his earlier anger dissolving into a protective, fierce love. "Always," he murmurs into your hair. "I’ll always be here for you."

You hold him close, the warmth of his body grounding you. "Thank you, Astarion. For caring so much."

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. "You deserve to be cared for," he says firmly. "You deserve to be protected from monsters like her."

You smile, touched by his words and the depth of his feelings. "And you deserve to find peace, too. We both do."

"Yes," He nods, his expression softening. "Yes, we do."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

Kressa Bonedaughter’s words echo in your mind long after the battle has ended. Her disturbing attachment to you, the tales of relentless experiments, and her twisted pride in your resilience—these are things you can’t fully grasp due to the dark void where your memories should be. But now, she lies defeated at your feet, her body a testament to the horrors she wrought.

As you take a moment to catch your breath, you notice Wyll standing over her body. His face is a mask of rage, and his sword rises and falls in a relentless, brutal rhythm. He’s attacking her lifeless form with a fury that is both shocking and heartbreaking.

“Wyll,” you call out, your voice tinged with concern. “She’s dead. It’s over.”

But he doesn’t seem to hear you. His strikes continue, each one more forceful than the last, as if he’s trying to obliterate every trace of her existence. The sound of metal against flesh and bone is sickening, and you can see the wild, almost desperate look in his eyes.

You step closer, your voice firmer. “Wyll, stop. She’s dead!”

Still, he doesn’t respond. It’s as if he’s in a trance, lost in his own world of vengeance and pain. You can’t stand to see him like this, consumed by a rage that threatens to devour him whole. Summoning your strength, you reach out and grab his arm, pulling him back.

“Wyll, look at me!” you shout, your voice cutting through the haze of his fury.

He finally stops, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes are wild, filled with a mix of rage and sorrow. He looks down at Kressa’s mutilated body, then back at you, as if seeing you for the first time.

“She’s dead,” you repeat softly. “It’s over.”

He shakes his head, tears welling in his eyes. “It will never be over. Not after what she did to you.”

You feel a pang of guilt and sorrow. “I don’t remember, Wyll. Whatever she did, it’s gone from my mind.”

“That doesn’t change what happened,” he says, his voice breaking. “It doesn’t change the fact that she tortured you, experimented on you like you were nothing. And you don’t even remember…”

You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words to reach him. “I know it’s horrible, but killing her over and over again won’t change the past. We need to move forward. We need to find your father."

He drops his sword, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I just… I can’t let it go. The thought of you suffering like that… it’s too much.”

You step closer, placing a hand on his arm. “We all carry our burdens, Wyll. But we have to find a way to live with them, not let them destroy us.”

He looks at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger, sadness, and something softer—concern, perhaps, or even love. “You’re stronger than you know,” he says quietly. “Stronger than any of us. But I can’t help but feel that you shouldn’t have had to be.”

You squeeze his arm gently. “Thank you, Wyll. For caring so much. But we have to keep moving forward. Together.”

He nods slowly, the fire in his eyes dimming but not extinguished. “You’re right. We can’t let the past dictate our future. But I promise you this—I will never let anyone hurt you like that again.”

“I believe you,” you say, offering him a small, reassuring smile. “And I appreciate it, my love.”

With a final look at Kressa’s lifeless body, Wyll steps back, his breathing finally beginning to steady. The rage that had consumed him ebbs away, replaced by a weary resolve.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

Kressa Bonedaughter’s twisted affection for your resilience, her pride in your endurance through countless experiments—these revelations hang over you like a dark cloud. Though the memories she described are shrouded in the void left by your lost past, they disturb you in ways you can’t quite articulate.

Back at camp, you notice a subtle shift in Halsin’s behavior. He hovers close to you, his eyes constantly scanning your surroundings, as if expecting danger to strike at any moment. When you sit by the fire, he sits beside you, his arm draped protectively around your shoulders. His presence is a comforting weight, but there's an intensity in his gaze that wasn’t there before.

That night, as you lie in your bedroll, you sense Halsin’s watchful eyes on you. You turn slightly, peeking through your lashes, and confirm your suspicion—he’s sitting nearby, his eyes fixed on you, his expression a mix of worry and determination. This has been happening every night since the encounter with Kressa, and it’s starting to wear on you.

After a while, you decide you can't ignore it any longer. You sit up, your eyes meeting his. “Halsin, why are you watching me sleep?”

He starts, clearly caught off guard, and then sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, my heart, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” you say softly. “I’ve noticed you doing this for a few nights now. Why?”

Halsin’s shoulders sag slightly, and he moves to sit closer to you, his hand reaching out to take yours. “After what Kressa said, about what she did to you, I just… I can’t stop thinking about it. About the pain you must have endured.”

You squeeze his hand gently. “But I don’t remember any of it, Halsin. It’s just a story to me.”

“To you, maybe,” he replies, his voice thick with emotion. “But to me, it’s a nightmare I can’t shake. The thought of you being hurt, experimented on like that… it’s unbearable. I feel like I failed you, even though I wasn’t there.”

“Halsin, you couldn’t have done anything. You didn’t even know me then.”

“That doesn’t change how I feel now,” he says, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. “I love you. And the idea of you being in pain, of suffering alone… I can’t bear it.”

You’re touched by the depth of his feelings, but also concerned. “Halsin, you can’t keep watching over me like this. You need to rest too. We both do.”

He nods slowly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “I know. It’s just… difficult. I want to protect you. To make sure you’re safe.”

“I appreciate that more than you know,” you say, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “But we need to find a balance. We can’t let the past, even one I don’t remember, control our present.”

He returns your kiss, his touch warm and reassuring. “You’re right,” he murmurs against your lips. “I just… I care so much. Sometimes it feels overwhelming.”

You rest your forehead against his, your eyes closing as you take comfort in his presence. “We’ll get through this together. But promise me you’ll try to sleep tonight.”

He hesitates for a moment, then nods. “I promise. But if you ever feel uneasy, if you ever remember anything, please tell me. Let me be there for you.”

“I will,” you promise, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. “And thank you, my heart. For everything.”

You settle back into your bedroll, and this time, Halsin lies down beside you, holding you close. His presence is a shield against the darkness, and as you drift off to sleep, you feel a sense of peace, knowing that you’re not alone.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Rolan:

As you make your way back to camp, you notice Rolan off to the side, his usually poorly hidden irritated demeanour now replaced with visible irritation. He’s pacing, muttering to himself, his expression dark and brooding. You approach him cautiously, sensing that something is deeply troubling him.

“Rolan, love,” you say gently, “is everything alright?”

He stops and looks at you, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and frustration. “No, everything is not alright,” he snaps, his voice sharper than usual.

You’re taken aback by the intensity of his reaction. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

He runs a hand through his hair, his agitation palpable. “It’s what that…that monster did to you,” he says, his voice trembling with barely controlled rage. “The things she said, the things she did. It’s… it’s unbearable.”

You take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Rolan, I don’t remember any of it. It’s like it happened to someone else. I’m fine, really.”

“Fine?” he echoes incredulously, his eyes narrowing. “You think you’re fine because you don’t remember it? That doesn’t change the fact that it happened! That you were tortured, experimented on like some… some animal!”

You can feel the frustration boiling inside him, the helplessness he feels. “Rolan, I understand that it’s upsetting, but—”

“No, you don’t understand!” he interrupts, his voice rising. “You can’t understand because you don’t remember! But I do. I heard her. I saw the look in her eyes when she talked about what she did to you. And it makes me sick.”

You reach out, placing a hand on his arm, trying to ground him. “I know it’s hard, but we defeated her. She can’t hurt anyone anymore. And I have you and the others to help me through whatever comes next.”

He looks at you, his expression softening just a bit, but the anger still simmering beneath the surface. “I just… I can’t stand the thought of you suffering like that. Of anyone hurting you.”

Your heart aches for him, for the pain he’s feeling on your behalf. “Rolan, I appreciate how much you care. It means a lot to me. But we have to focus on the present, on what we can control. And right now, we’re together, and we’re safe.”

He takes a deep breath, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “I know. It’s just… hard to let go of the anger. To think about what you went through.”

You squeeze his arm gently. “We’ll get through this together. One step at a time.”

He looks at you, his eyes searching yours, and finally nods. “You’re right. I’m sorry for snapping at you. I just… it’s hard.”

You smile softly. “I know. And it’s okay. We all have our breaking points. But we’ll support each other, no matter what.”

He pulls you into a hug, holding you tightly. “Thank you. For understanding. For being here.”

You hold him close, feeling the warmth of his embrace. “Always."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Oof this was a lot, my poor babies, who would put you through such a thing (it was me, I did, and I'll do it again)

Hope y'all enjoyed it - Seluney xox

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

ways TANGERINE stays sentimental, while protecting his love’s identity:

credits to @everythingisspokenfortbh for the idea, and expanding on it with me. post is here <3

gn!reader, <500 words

tangerine is sometimes too protective, like the near overbearing kind. it's not because he's controlling or tyrannical or domineering —though it may feel like that— instead his obsessive need to keep you safe, came from a far more loving place. vulnerable, even. 

he knew his line of work was not safe. and not only does he put himself in great depths of danger, but he also puts those he loves in that same chasm of the unknown. that includes you.

when it came to picking wedding rings, he wanted to steer far from the traditional bands that each of you would have upon your left hand, instead opting for something more secret. 

so, on your special day at the altar, rather than exchanging rings, you gave necklaces - each complimenting the other, not completing another: charms with the sun and the moon. tangerine had gold to match the rest of his jewellery, and you had silver. the sun worked best with gold like the moon did with silver. but tangerine is not a sun person. so to get around that issue, you brought up a suggestion, saying that you should wear each other's charm. 

since your special day, each of you have been wearing your promises around your necks, the pendant of your lover there as a reminder. not for others, but for you. the meaning of the necklace was for the two of you only. no one else knew.

and during those weeks when he leaves for work, you would swap necklaces - giving the other a piece to remember. tangerine would wear yours like a lucky charm, the pendant offering him safety, while his would offer you comfort. 

tangerine is sentimental, and you'd have a hard time trying to convince someone that he is. he keeps his love hidden and protected, the feeling only to be expressed with those he values most. and to keep with the theme of your protection, he finds ways to show his love without putting you in harm's way.

when it came to honouring special dates between you, he liked to remember them with tattoos. he'd get small and meaningful drawings inked into his body to secretly showcase his love for you. 

over the years, he accumulated an array of tiny momentos declaring his love - ranging from an outline of the country you met to a sketch of your favourite planet all the way to the moon phase on the night of your wedding. to an unknown eye, these tattoos would look like little random doodles. but not to tangerine, and not to you. these inked images are snippets of proof that show the love and sentiment of your heartless, cold assassin of a lover.

everything he does, he does it for you.

ALSO BTW my cat has a similar moon charm that we were talking about AHH!?

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Nightfall (4)

Vampire! Billy Russo x Female Reader

Part 1// Part 2// Part 3

Warnings: Dubious Consent, smut (18+), mostly dirty talk, some fucked up dynamics where he lets her press a stake to his heart, oral (f receiving), edging, orgasm denial, teasing.

For @stardustmorozov, Nicky I'm sorry but you're gonna yell at me again... and I'm gonna love it.

You sit on his bed, listening to the sound of the shower going. 

Your mouth tastes like spearmint, and your hair is still a little damp after your shower despite your attempts at blow drying.

You’re in one of his shirts, having raided his drawers when the duffel bag he’d given you earlier held nothing but sheer lingerie disguised as sleepwear.

Maybe you shouldn’t stay here, so instead you stand, and begin wandering around his apartment.

His bedroom is farthest from the front door, and you step out, roaming down the hallway, and stopping when you see another door.

It’s open, and you peek in to find an office that you promise yourself to explore after.

It’s the only door in the hallway, and the end of it opens up into a large area with a high ceiling. There’s his kitchen to your left, and on the opposite end of the room from where you are, is the living room area. There are no walls here, just windows that show off the glittering lights of the New York skyline at night. You wonder how he’s able to stand the sun, knowing that vampire eyes were hypersensitive to light, and that most of them avoided the sunlight. Only the very old ones, managed to walk in the sun like humans did. 

You tuck that snippet of information away for further examination.

You turn to examine the kitchen, scanning the cupboards, surprised to find regular household foods like pasta and rice, wondering if he had bought these items for you, or for other human friends of his.

Another hallway at the other end of the kitchen catches your eye, and you walk slowly, more deep in your own head than you were paying attention to the layout of his apartment.

You find the bedroom you’d first woken up in, all walls and no windows, a place that protects from the light, with its own en suite bathroom. You decide that maybe you can sleep here tonight, away from him and his wretched mouth. 

Backtracking, you look at the door for a long moment, before moving forward to examine it.

You reach for the handle, pushing down, you realise it’s locked. You sigh, eyes falling on the latched deadbolt, reaching up to open it, before trying the door handle again.

The door opens this time.

Your stomach twists.

Damn, had it really been that easy the entire time? You study the elevator just a few paces away from the door.

You don’t even think about it, closing the door and snapping the deadbolt shut.

You turn away from the door, and you gasp in fright as you see him standing just a few steps away. 

You jerk, back hitting the door as fright slams through you.

You suck in a deep breath, pressing your hand to your chest.

He’s only got a towel wrapped around his hips, his chest and shoulders still glistening with water after his shower.

You stare at each other, a silent showdown of who’s going to speak first.

Billy tilts his head, studying you intently.

“Why didn’t you leave?”

Your brain comes up with the dumbest, most obvious answer possible.

“I’m- not wearing pants.”

The corner of his mouth twitches.

“We could go get some. Would you leave then?”

“No, cause it’s three in the morning and I’m tired.”

He takes a step toward you, a teasing smile on his pretty face. Your eyes trace the lines of his scars as he draws nearer. You relax as he approaches.

“And in the morning?” 

He’s so close now, you’re eye level with his dripping wet chest.

“Maybe. If I feel like it.” You whisper, studying the scars on his chest, and then flitting your gaze up to meet his.

He takes a deep breath, bracing one hand beside your head, and then after a moment, uses his other hand to trap you in place.

Except that you don’t feel trapped, all you feel is heated want.

“What if I don’t want you to leave?” He asks, his voice stirs something inside of you, a dangerous feeling, something disastrous in the making.

“You can’t stop me.” You murmur, as his fingers touch the bottom of your chin, gently tilting your head higher.

He smiles then, all fangs and pearly whites on display.

“If only that were true.” He hums, leaning in till his lips brush yours.

You push against his biceps hard, and he moves back just enough so that you’re able to slip away from him.

“Why don’t you go kiss someone else. I’m going to bed.” You grit out, walking in the direction of the spare bedroom.

You don’t get very far, before he’s gripping your wrist tightly to keep you in place. You turn to face him, a look of calm irritation plastered on your face.

“That’s what this is about? The kiss?”

“It’s about nothing. Let me go.” You pull on your arm.

He doesn’t budge.

“You’re jealous?”

“I’m not-” You grunt as you pull on your hand again, “-You’re just pissing me off.”

“You’re the one that called me ‘sick’ and now you’re jealous cause I kissed someone?”

“I’m not fucking jealous-” You gasp as he pins your body to the kitchen counter, your body freezing in shock at the angry expression on his face.

“Don’t. Lie. To. Me.” He grits out, blinking after a second and seemingly calming in the same space of time.

He takes a deep breath before speaking again.

“Don’t forget I can hear every beat of your heart. I can smell your cunt. I already know how wet you are. Don’t think you’re capable of a lie.”

You let out an angry sigh, turning your head away from him.

“Whatever.” you say as harshly as you can.

There’s a moment of silence, where he looks at you, and you make a point not to look at him.

“Alright. I’m gonna fix this.” He says decidedly.

“I could care less- what the fuck are you-” You gasp as he picks you up easily, tossing you over his shoulder.

“Billy what the fuck! Put me the fuck down now you asshole!” You grunt, his shoulder digging near painfully into your hip. 

You kick your legs, trying to escape and after a moment you realise that it doesn’t make a difference.

If you really wanted to, you could maybe straighten your body and fight your way out of his grip, but there was an inevitability to his movements. It didn’t matter how long it took, or how difficult it was, Billy was persistent, and he would get what he wanted eventually.

So when your body lands softly on his bed, all you do is look up at him angrily.

“Stay there.” He orders, untucking the towel from his hips and dropping it to the floor. You look up to the ceiling to avoid looking at his nude form. You don't want to give him the satisfaction.

When he turns away, your eyes find him once more, studying the broad expanse of his back, all the way down to his ass.

You clench, grabbing a pillow and dropping it on top of your face to hide your desire. You try your very hardest not to remember the look of him, the feel of his body on yours, his cock-

He tugs the pillow away from your face, and you sigh in annoyance up at him.

You don’t want to look down, but your eyes have almost a mind of their own.

Your eyebrows draw together in confusion when you notice that he’s wearing a fitted pair of grey boxers on his lower half.

When your eyes meet his in confusion, he grins.

He finds his way up to you, hands sliding over your legs, up your calves and to your knees.

"Did you think we were gonna fuck, baby?" He teases, with a tilt of his head.

His hands slide up more, and you're just confused when he reaches under your shirt to tug at your panties.

"We're not fucking tonight, sweetheart, I just wanna talk to you."

Then why the fuck was he taking your panties off?

When he gets the garment off, you watch him close his eyes for a brief second, tilt his head up and take a deep breath.

He was-

"God. You smell good."

His eyes are red when they reconnect with yours.

You don't say anything- you find that you can't. You want him and he knows it.

He grips your thighs, pressing them upward so that your cunt is exposed to him fully.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, you're sure he can hear it. Open and vulnerable as you watch him look at your glistening cunt.

"Pretty. Did you know that?" 

You gulp, eyes glued to his form, admiring the look of his arms and the swell of his biceps.

"I want to taste you every day, all the time. You have no idea how hard it is to stop myself from dropping you on the first surface I can find and burying my face in your cunt."

He watches you clench around nothing, the corner of his mouth curling up into a smile.

He releases your legs, letting them drop a little and he looms in above you, pressing your body tightly to his.

Chest to chest, your bare centre pressed right up to the hardness of his clothed cock, there's no space to breathe where he doesn't exist.

He angles his head so that his lips are pressed to your ear.

"I want to lick that pretty little cunt till you pass out, and then wake you up so I can do it all over again." He whispers in your ear, your body tense and on edge from just his words.

"I want to fuck you till you beg me to stop, and even then, I'll still be giving you just one more."

You think you might be ruining the sheets below you with how aroused you were.

"Then do it." You challenge, hoping for some reprieve to the ache inside of you.

His hand moves up slowly, fingers tracing your cheek before covering your mouth firmly.

You make a muffled sound of protest, raising your hands to try and push him away. You hear a quiet laugh, before one of your hands is pinned above your head.

It doesn’t matter, whether you have one hand free or two- you would not be able to get out from under him on your own.

“My poor sweet little huntress,” He hums, your ear vibrating with his low words, “If you want me to fuck you till you cry, you’re going to have to ask nicely. Actually no- you’re going to have to beg.”

Your groan of annoyance is muffled behind his palm. There was no way you were going to beg him for anything.

You feel him smile against your neck, and then you still as you feel his teeth. 

He drags his sharp teeth gently over your neck, avoiding the spot where he bit you earlier.

“You’re so helpless under me, isn’t that nice? I can do anything I want to you, and you’d have no power to stop me.” 

To prove his point, you feel his tongue swipe over your shoulder, and then purposefully over your bite, sending brief little shivers down your spine, and then he trails his tongue up the column of your neck, and then even further, licking over your cheek as well.

Your body feels like a livewire, vibrating with sheer desire each time he touches you.

You want to grunt out so many things. That he was filthy, that he was just downright fucked up in the head.

That you wanted him to keep going.

“You like that, don’t you? You always have.” He lets out a slow sigh, “You always get so wet when you can’t fight back.”

Fuck you, you wanted to say. 

“What if we made this interesting?” He hums, raising his upper body off yours for a second to reach into his bedside drawer. 

You’re no longer fully trapped under him, and if you wanted to get out, you could. Instead, you wait curiously to see what he was going to do.

He pulls a stake out of his top drawer.

“You- just have that in there? I could have killed you this whole time?”

“Of course.” He teases pushing the drawer shut, “Now’s your chance.”

Before you can ask what he means, he’s sliding the silver stake into your hand.

What the fuck?

“Now, you can stop me if you really want.” Billy says ominously.

“That’s the most fucked up-” Before you can finish, he’s slapping his hand back over your mouth.

“Don’t care about what you have to say, baby, I’m gonna do what I want to you, and you can stop me if you feel like.”

And then, he starts tugging your shirt up, exposing your stomach.

In retrospect, you don’t have to kill him to make him stop, you could just mortally wound him. One well placed stab near the heart would be enough of a deterrent. You could slip free and be out the door in minutes.

Billy pulls your shirt up higher, exposing your breasts to the open air. Your hand tightens on the stake.

You should do it. You really should.

He groans when his tongue slides wetly over your left nipple. You shudder blissfully.

Your eyes roll back in your head, before fluttering shut. A breath of air leaves your mouth in a rush, fingers hold taut on the warming piece of silver in your hand.

One quick swipe of his tongue on your left breast, then your right. He raises his head.

“Do you want more?” Billy asks.

With your eyes still closed, you shake your head.

“Then stop me.” He says, before his lips wrap around your pebbled nipple. 

His short beard scratches along your sensitive breast, he kisses his way up to the spot below your collarbone, white hot sparks splintering over your body everywhere he touches.

You still when you feel his teeth graze your skin.

“Still want me to stop?” He checks in.

No you don’t.

“Yes.”

His teeth press into your skin.

A sharp cry spills out of you, tingles as he breaks skin, followed by a jolt of pain and then heat.

You jerk when he extracts his fangs.

Billy moans when he gets his first mouthful.

You pant, unable to understand how having him drink from you could hurt, and yet feel so blissfully good.

He takes another, and then another.

Was he going to kill you like this? Should you stop him now?

He rolls his hips, rock hard erection just bumping your clit and you gasp.

Fuck, why did every part of him have to feel so good? You could feel your arousal, slippery and messy between your thighs, begging you to give into him, if only for a moment so that he could ease your ache.

Instead, you move your hand, pressing the stake to his shoulder.

From his spot, drinking from your chest, you feel him make a sound of amusement.

You groan, disdain for him building in you, you press the weapon deeper till it breaks his skin.

He pauses, raising his head from your chest, lapping slowly at the trickling droplets of your blood before drawing back.

“Silly girl, didn’t anyone teach you how to kill a vampire?” He asks, grabbing your wrist in an iron grip, and though you try to fight his guidance, he’s too strong, pulling your hand until the stake is pressed to the centre of his chest.

“My heart is right here.” He murmurs softly, and with his hand on yours, he pulls the weapon closer, breaking skin once more.

“Stop.” You say, panic building inside of you, tugging at your hand in hopes that it can slip out from under his. You didn’t want this, you didn’t want to kill him.

You pull hard at your hand, gasping gratefully when you manage to pull away. 

You look at him, sharp breaths trying to calm yourself when you get your hand away. 

He gives you a soft smile, pulling the stake away from his chest and dropping it on the bed.

You gulp, watching the wound he’d caused heal before your eyes.

“You are,” You breathe, “Absolutely fucking crazy.”

“Maybe,” He agrees with a hum, “But at least you can admit to yourself now, that you want this too.” He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours chastely, “That maybe you actually like me.”

“Not wanting you to die is not the same as-”

“-Oh give me a fucking break.” He grunts, pulling back.

He grips your knees, and before you can figure out what he’s doing- he flips you onto your stomach.

You let out a little grunt, pushing yourself up, but suddenly pressed back down by the weight of his body covering yours.

“You’ve cum on my cock way too many times to be lying to yourself like this.” He hisses.

You turn your head, so that you can see his face in your peripherals.

"You're such an arrogant fuck." You grunt out, your rucked up shirt causing your nipples to press against the bed, the exposure of your body makes you almost quiver with delight.

He leans in, his breath against your ear as you feel his hands gripping your hips.

"Why can't you just admit to yourself that you might want me, hmm?" He hisses lowly in your ear, his breath brushing against your skin, tormenting you.

"That deep down," He continues, pressing his hand between your hips and the bed, "Somewhere in that pretty head and wet cunt," You feel his hand sliding lower, fingers touching the top of your mound, "You want me with you," He kisses your cheek, "Over you, under you, inside you." You feel him take a deep breath, his nose pressed to your neck.

"I want to lick your cunt so often that I can taste you when you're not there. Is that too much to ask for?"

Your head spins, too drunk on him to formulate words.

He makes it even harder, by slipping his hand lower, fingers meeting your wet slit.

He doesn't hesitate, fingers gliding easily down, meeting your clit and you let out a low, shuddering moan as your ache is addressed in the slightest way possible.

You tilt your hips forward, into his hand.

"Billy." You sigh, widening your legs instinctively, anything to encourage him to keep going.

“God, you’re so fucking wet.”

You mewl, nodding your head.

His finger slips gently over your clit, and your breathing pauses, you don't want to do anything that would make him stop giving you this pleasure.

He gives a firm press, and you feel your body shudder, a wave of pure bliss sinking over you.

You say his name again, shifting your body, trying to display your impatience to him.

"Ah ah ah, little girl. Where are your manners? I told you I wanted you to beg."

"Fuck you." You groan angrily.

His finger slips lower, massaging your entrance for a few moments before slipping his finger in.

You gasp, your body going lax at the feel of the pleasure building in you. It’s good. It’s so good and it’s so wrong that he makes you feel like this.

"So fucking tight." He hisses, "That cunt's begging for a stretch."

Focusing on his words are hard with the way his lone finger moves, pumping in and out of you easily, your body desperate for him.

Something goes off in your head, like a gun when he curls his finger, and touches that spot deep inside of you. It pulls a groan from the very depths of your soul. You pant, trying to keep your thinking focused with the way he’s trying to steal it.

"That's it. You like this huh? Like the way I take what I want?" He leans in till his lips are at your ear, "I like it too." You clench around his finger.

"You're a sick fuck." You groan, half your mouth muffled from where your face is pressed to the bed.

"Yeah? Am I? Do you hate me?" He pulls back, and before you can make any sound of protest, two of his fingers are sliding into you.

Fuck, you can feel your body stretching for him. He uses his other hand to grip your jaw, tilting your head up almost painfully so that your face isn’t muffled in the sheets anymore.

"Tell me you hate me." Billy whispers in your ear.

You cry, his fingers beginning to move slowly, spreading you open and forcing you to feel him, to ache for more of him.

His fingers slow when you don’t immediately answer, and you groan internally, assembling the words in your head.

“I- I,” You stutter out, tears dripping from your eyes uncontrollably and pooling around his grip on your jaw, “I h-hate you.”

“Yeah? Poor little girl. Should I stop then? Leave you alone?” He coos, voice condescending in every way possible.

“Nh-” You immediately vocalise, begging him in your head to not stop, but the words can’t seem to come out of your mouth.

He laughs in your ear, understanding what you were about to say without you having to say it. 

The pace of his fingers quicken, you hiss, arching your back, feeling your orgasm swiftly approaching. You’ve wanted him since this morning, since he pulled you onto his lap and told you that you were his.

Your body trembles, eyes rolling back in your head, on the brink of release-

-And then his fingers stop.

A cry of despair leaves your lips, and the denial in your body aches, and then hurts even more when he pulls his fingers away, withdrawing his hand from under you. His grip on your jaw loosens, until your face is pressed against the sheets once more.

You raise your head groggily, turning your body onto your side when you feel him lift himself off of you. You catch sight of him sliding his fingers, wet with your denial into his mouth.

You bite down on your bottom lip hard, on the brink of begging for him, pleading with him to make you cum, and then take you in any way he saw fit.

But that’s exactly what he wanted.

So instead, you stay still, trying not to speak, feeling the fire of denial burn through you.

You tug your shirt down, looking at him with angry eyes as he observes you.

“Are you done having your fun?” You ask bitterly.

The corner of his lip twitches.

"You know what to say if you want to cum, baby. Don't act like this isn't your choice."

You feel petulance build up inside of you, anger beyond thought.

"Go fuck yourself." You hiss, moving to slide off the bed.

He grips your hips, hauling you back, until you're on your back, looking angrily up at him.

"What's the rush, sweetness? Don't you want me to clean you up?" 

“Clean me?” You repeat in disbelief, sitting up, propping the weight of your torso onto your elbows. Your brain stalling on what that could possibly mean.

His smile is devious, the look of a man that has everything he wants and then some.

He takes his time, shouldering his body in between your thighs, his face so close to your dripping centre that you’re not sure if you have any brain cells left functional

“God.” He murmurs, his breath brushing along your mound as he takes in an unnecessary breath, his eyes immediately locking on to the messy place between your thighs, “You make me feel like the most insane person on the planet.” 

“You are the most insane person on the planet.”

He grins, lowering his head slowly, anticipation building inside of you, a simmering heat, a thrumming pulse.

“Love it when you talk dirty to me.” Is the last thing he murmurs before his lips meet your cunt.

You close your eyes, pressing your lips together, begging yourself to not make a sound. He places a gentle kiss to your slit, and then another, before you feel his lips part, and his tongue snake out.

You make a muffled groan behind your clenched teeth as he gets a taste of you.

What starts off gentle, turns slightly rougher as he lays a harsh swipe of his tongue along your pussy, a gasp leaving your lips as you feel Billy begin to slowly lick your cunt.

He’s thorough and unrelenting, his face buried between your thighs, licking at you without a care in the world.

You want to spit every degrading word you can at him, hating the way you know in the back of your head that only he has ever made you feel so good.

“Oh fuck you.” You gasp as his tongue finds your clit easily, a laugh vibrating through your nether regions as he hears you.

You give up trying to resist, reaching to grip the back of his head, hoping to urge him on.

It has the opposite effect, he raises his head, and you whine, a low, pained noise at his torment.

"I'm not clean enough yet," You argue, looking down to meet his scarlet eyes.

You look at each other for a long moment, the heat of unsaid words crackling between you.

You want to beg, you're almost on the brink of it.

"I agree." Is all he says before he lowers his head again.

"Fuck-" You gasp, your back hitting the bed as your arm refuses to support your weight for any longer. 

His tongue is too dexterous, licking at your clit, and then dipping down to your entrance. He groans, tongue catching your arousal straight from the source.

Your toes curl, blissful orgasm near, your body tingles with the anticipation of your impending release.

You moan his name, putting every ounce of desperate desire into the one word.

He pulls away right when you're on edge.

The sound that leaves you is pitiful, tears of frustration spill from your eyes as you look up at him.

"I'll give you anything if you let me come."

"You know what I want." He says, licking his lips.

"Besides that," You try to bargain, "I'll blow you again, or I'll let you bite me." 

His smile is one of amusement, it makes you feel like a child, begging for something you're not going to get.

"I think we've already established that if I wanted those things, you wouldn't stop me. Even if you could."

You frown, letting out a sharp breath, fully understanding that he would not take pity on you tonight.

"Fine, asshole, I'll do it myself." You grunt, slipping from under him and sitting up with the intention of a shower.

He grips your bicep harshly to stop you. You grit your teeth angrily, unable to look into his eyes.

"If I catch you touching that little cunt- my cunt- without permission. I'll teach what real punishment would be like."

He pulls you closer, till his lips are pressed right to your ear again, your stomach flipping at his proximity.

"I'll tie you to the bed, and edge you till you forget your name. I'll use you like my own personal fleshlight and I'll never let you cum."

You hiss angrily, nether regions throbbing at his words and you tug your arm out of his grip.

"Fuck. You." Is your only reply as you head to the bathroom for the coldest shower possible.

.

After all of that, you sleep in bed beside him.

Because you know him now a little, and you know there's no way he was letting you have your own bed.

You'd gone to sleep on opposite sides of the bed, but you'd woken up in his arms.

"Thought vampires didn't need sleep?" You ask, voice unsteady, having just woken up.

"We don't." He answers, looking down at you. 

Your eyes trace his scars, you want to touch them, ask him what happened.

"So why did you lie beside me all night?"

"Because I wanted to." He answers.

Your stomach flips, and you have to look away as you feel blood rush to your face.

"Will you tell me more about this…imprint?" You ask softly.

He makes a little sound of displeasure.

"It's not exactly an imprint- It’s like-" He lets out a low sigh.

"It sounds worse than it actually is, but- ugh- do you know what quantum entanglement is?"

"Do I look like a physicist?" You answer.

He rolls his eyes, a small smile on his face at your snark.

"As simple as I can explain, when two particles are entangled, they remain connected, regardless of distance."

"What entangles them?" You ask.

"Physical interaction, but, with people, it's a lot harder to explain because there's a lot that isn't understood. It can happen with anyone, but not everyone, and at a subconscious level, it has to be accepted by both."

"You're saying I chose this?"

"Some part of you did, yeah, some part of me too, and then, no matter how far I got from you, I could still feel you."

"Feel me?" You press, hoping for him to elaborate.

He raises a hand, his knuckles carefully brush your cheek.

"Like you were always standing in the room with me. Like I wasn't alone."

You blink, trying to figure out if you'd felt the same way. You had so many questions flying through your head and difficulty putting them into words.

“Is there any way to break it?”

You can almost feel the air go frigid between you.

“As far as I understand, nothing breaks the bond except dying.”

Great.

“And what happens if we stay together?”

“I’ve heard different things from different people.” He responds.

“Like what?” You ask, trying to think it through. You remember Ethan had mentioned that there was the prolonging of lives involved.

He closes his eyes, shakes his head.

"I don't want to tell you what I'm not sure about. I have a friend, bonded to a human, maybe you can ask them whenever."

You swallow, nodding, trying not to fret over the possibility of more vampires.

Deep in thought, you blink in surprise when you feel his thumb brush over your cheek again. You look up at him in surprise.

"I have another question, but it's very personal."

"What is it?" 

You stall for a moment, studying the look in his eyes, the dark reflectiveness of them, the way you can almost see yourself in his eyes.

"Exactly how old are you?"

It changes the sour mood, the corner of his mouth curling in amusement before he gives you a fanged grin.

"That is a personal question, and maybe I'm not comfortable with answering." He says, tapping the tip of your nose with a slender finger.

You huff.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to freak you out, and telling you my age is gonna freak you out."

Maybe he was right, maybe it was better that you didn't know.

You sigh, rolling onto your back to stare up at the ceiling. He gets closer to you, fingers tracing over your cheek and down your neck, only stopping when they reach the healing bite on your shoulder.

Experimentally, he presses his thumb against the wound. You turn your head sharply to look at him, feeling the pain swim through your body but not reacting to it.

“Ow.” You say simply.

“How bad does it hurt?” He asks quietly.

You smack his hand away, sitting up, your back to him.

“Why does it suddenly matter?” You jab, moving to dangle your feet off the side of the bed.

There’s a big silence, he doesn’t answer, and after a moment you’re forced to glance back to make sure he’s still there and hasn’t dissolved into the air because of you.

He’s looking at you, as if he somehow understands something about you that you don’t know about yourself.

“How many times have you been bitten?”

The question brings a laugh to your lips.

“Enough times that I'm used to it.”

“Does it hurt any less each time?”

You turn away, an amused and thoughtful smile rises to your face.

“Every time I get bitten, always hurts like the first time.” You say in finality, leaving the room soon after.

.

Whatever bond he was describing- you didn’t feel it. There was nothing there but a deep seated need to explore him. It was more curiosity than desire.

At least, that’s what you told yourself to feel better.

You’d showered, looking at your reflection in the fogged mirror, trying to think clearly with so much frustration in your system. In the moment, you close your eyes, and recall the first time you’d ever fucked him.

It had been frantic at first, the way he’d used his tongue on you had your body begging for more, and you honestly thought you were going to die after you’d tried to kill him.

You’d put everything into it- savouring him because you wanted to seal yourself into his memory- if he was going to kill you by the end of it.

You’d gone pliant when he'd lined himself up with your entrance, and you can still remember the way your brain spiralled in surprise at the ridiculous amount of pleasure. No one had ever made you feel like that before.

Over and over again, you’d fucked till you could barely hold yourself up, till you’d been sitting on his lap, his hands gripping your hips to do all the work because you couldn’t even lift your head from the crook of his neck.

He’d been quiet, not like the second time, or even last night, when he was so vocal, the only thing you could compare it to was sin itself.

Your lower regions pulse. You can feel the heat between your thighs, begging for him, and the pleasure he gives regardless of how annoying he was.

It’s why you grab the dress at the bottom of the duffel bag to wear, deciding that you didn’t have to beg to get what you wanted. 

It was actually a really cute dress, blue, with little printed flowers all over it. Most importantly, it was short, only coming up to mid-thigh, which meant that if you bent over, he’d see the smallest scrap of lace you’d decided to call underwear today.

If he could play games, so would you.

.

He’s making breakfast when you step into the kitchen. It kind of amuses you, that he’s only cooking for you.

“Can I help?” You ask, stepping up beside him at the stove to look down at the omelette he’d been working at.

He glances at you, looks down at the stove, before blinking to look over at you once more.

You watch his jaw stiffen, you resist the urge to bite your lip as you watch his eyes trace down your body.

Oh, what power.

“Butter.” He says, “Fridge.”

You offer him a teasing smile, before turning away.

You bend unnecessarily, feeling your skirt rise up, cool air brushing the back of your thighs. 

The butter is on the middle shelf, making your bending completely unnecessary in the first place.

He's not looking at you when you turn around. You're not even sure if he's seen your little display.

He takes the butter from you without a word, and you're very intrigued by the way he cooks, the move of his wrist to flip the omelette.

"Can you get the bread toasted for me?"

How was he doing this? Being so calm and casual with you? Seeing this side of him was so much worse for your sanity than anything else. 

"You have bread?" You ask curiously, looking around, but not able to spot any.

"Yeah, here-" He steps away from the stove to reach into one of the overhead cupboards. You glance down at the pan on the stove, to make sure nothing is burning. The deep indentations on the handle of the pan barely catches your eye, and you blink in surprise.

There were deep impressions of his fingers… caused by squeezing too hard.

Maybe he was more affected with your display than he let on.

You fight a satisfied smile, giving him a knowing look when he returns to place the bag of sliced bread into your hands.

"You bought all of this for me?" You tease, "I'm flattered."

He looks hot when he rolls his eyes.

“It’s not like I had much of a choice. I can’t let you starve.”

“Because you like me?” You pry, swaying your shoulders playfully from side to side.

He huffs, using the spatula to flip the finished omelette onto a nearby plate.

Billy doesn’t respond, simply shaking his head without looking at you.

It only urges you on, like a match, sparking as it rubs against coarse paper.

You brace your hands against his kitchen counter, stiffening your arms as you use your toes to push you into an effortless bounce, using the momentum to raise your body, sitting yourself on his counter, facing him.

He doesn’t look, simply preparing the pan for toast.

“Ah,” You tease, parting your thighs subtly, “So you don’t like me then.”

Yet still, he doesn’t respond, calmly observing the bread as it toasts, the smell of it in the air makes your mouth water a little.

But it’s not what you’re hungry for.

“Maybe you only think you like me because of how sweet my blood tastes. Maybe it’s all in your head-”

Your voice goes quiet when he finally pins you with a stern glare. 

His movements are decisive, turning the stove off, moving the pan away from the residual heat, and then turning to you.

Goddamn.

You gasp, raising a leg to back away from him while also making an attempt to push him back with your foot, but there’s nowhere for you to go, your head bumps a cupboard door, and that’s all the distraction he needs to grab your ankle.

You let out a little squeak, gasping as he pulls you forward and right up against his body, encouraging your legs to wrap around him.

You open your mouth to speak, to protest, to fight him in an unmeaningful way, but you don’t get the chance as his hand grips the back of your neck, forcing your mouth onto his.

God fucking damn.

Your eyes shut, your body relaxes, and then sings with delight as he delves his tongue past your lips.

You moan into his mouth, unable to fight it, leaning in because it feels so good to have him. 

Fuck every part of you that told you this was wrong. You wanted him and nothing would stop you.

You grip his shirt in a tight fist, leaning in, meeting his mouth with an undeniable force. He presses back, and for a moment you feel so blissfully wanted, maybe more than you’d ever been before.

Only when his hand weaves into your hair, his fist tightening to hold your head in place as he leans away, do you remember the taunting remarks that got you here.

Your scalp stings, mouth falling open to gasp in air.

His eyes are dark red, like the blood he drinks to stay alive.

He doesn’t speak, releasing your hair to support your behind as he lifts you off the counter, moving quickly with your body pressed to his.

Your vision shifts too fast for comprehension, and the next thing you can process is lying face down across the marble kitchen island.

He grips the back of your head to keep you there, warm cheek to frigid marble and you stay, refusing to move, wishing that he takes in this moment, everything that you’re willing to give.

He leans over your body, until his mouth is pressed to your ear.

“Do you ever shut up?” Billy hisses, and you have to fight a satisfied smile.

He’s not done ranting, continuing on as if he doesn’t care for your answers.

“I know you just said that to get a rise out of me, but the very idea of me only wanting your for your blood- makes me fucking sick.”

He leans in even more, taking a deep breath in the space of your neck.

“I want all of you, every single piece of you, over and over again until you’re fucking mine.”

He leans away a little.

“Is that what you wanted to hear? Hmm? When you put on this little dress and flashed that cunt at me?”

He moves away even more, and the next thing you feel is him pushing your dress up, his hand pressed securely to the small of your back so that you can’t raise your body.

He's still for a moment, and so are you, burning with anticipation, your cunt getting wetter by the second.

You gasp in surprise when you feel his nose graze the back of your thigh.

You shudder, feeling his breath along your most sensitive areas, your skin tingles as he runs his nose upward, your hands curl into fists beside your head when you feel a small puff of air against your skin.

He’s still for so long that you find your body tense with anticipation, biting down on your bottom lip hard so that you don’t beg him to just put you out of your sordid misery. 

You make a small mewling sound of surprise when you feel his tongue lick along the lace gusset of your panties. 

He tugs at the scrap of fabric, pulling it away from the tacky seam of your cunt so that he can get a better look, an uninhibited view of your desire.

You want to say his name, so badly that you can feel the resonant sound of it in the back of your throat. Instead, you repeat it in your head.

Billy, Billy, Billy, Billy…

“I can’t believe how fucking messy this cunt gets. All for me.” He says softly, as if you’re not meant to hear but you do anyway.

“Such a fucking shame that you won’t beg. The things I want to do to you, the ways I want to make you cum.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, panting hard against the kitchen counter, your inner walls fluttering, begging. 

“Fucking tease.” He breathes out, as he watches more arousal spill from between your thighs.

Billy, please-

Your gasp gets caught in your throat as his tongue licks a wet trail from your clit to your entrance.

“Fuck- didn’t mean to do that but I can’t help it.” Is all he says before his tongue starts licking you slowly.

Your eyes roll back into your head and stays there permanently for a few seconds. The flood of bliss is almost too much for your body to manage.

He grunts, his hands gripping your thighs to spread your legs further apart.

His tongue is forceful as it dances over your clit, and then, after what you assume is a moment of contemplation, you feel his tongue push its way against your entrance.

Your breathing is sharp and shallow, you reach to grip the other edge of the counter, trying to get some leverage to remain sane.

The pleasure is shallow, but your body is hypersensitive with denial, his tongue fucking into you at a reasonable pace is almost enough to have your breath stalling in your throat.

When he finally gets control of himself, his tongue slows, carefully licking you, daring your body to think about orgasm.

After a few more moments, he raises his head, and you breathe a sigh of relief, your body releasing the tension of pleasure, your hands relaxing its grip on the marble countertop.

But you should have known better than to think he was done with you, not satisfied until you know for sure that you’ve lost this interaction.

His hands on your hips, gripping them as he turns you over, pulling you up into a sitting position.

Nose to nose, you look into his eyes with a half-lidded gaze.

“Your blood is nice,” He whispers, hand raising to cup your cheek, “But it’s you I want, huntress. Don’t forget that.”

You sigh, pressing your cheek into his palm and closing your eyes.

“Say it for me. What do I want?” He asks.

You breathe out a huff, an unknown emotion squeezing your throat tightly.

“Me.” You whisper softly, eyes still shut to avoid his gaze.

He doesn’t mind, thumb caressing your cheek.

“Good girl.”

And then he’s gone- right back to toasting bread, as if nothing had ever happened.

It almost drives you insane.

.

.

.

Happy Halloween!

[dollfaceksj]

still don’t know my name | jjk (m) TEASER

➥ banner by: @archivedkookie.

➥ PAIRING: jungkook x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: In which your annoying neighbor—that you can’t stand—turns out to be the person behind the online account you’ve been sexting. You still don’t know his name.

➥ GENRE: smut ⋆ cybersex ⋆ enemies

➥ CATEGORY: mini three-shot

➥ TEASER WARNINGS: mean!jk, bratty!reader, biker!jk 🤤,neighbor beef, jk is soooo tired of reader’s antics, reader is tired of jk’s meanness, reader has to rely on jk for now …, reader literally doesnt know his name and vice versa so no names are used, minors stay away from this fic

➥ WORDCOUNT: 863

a/n: hi. heres a snippet of the upcoming jk mini three-shot i’ve been working on with my friend. feedback n reblogs r appreciated <3

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

“Are you–” you pause. Try to collect your thoughts. Take a deep breath. “Will you drive safely?”

And for the first time ever, his smug exterior falters. The scrunch in his brows has softened and so have his cold black eyes.

“Promise,” is all he says as he hops off his motorcycle with style. Him doing so with the pouring rain in the background makes this entire view seem like it came straight out of a movie.

Except he’s the villain.

You walk up behind him and abruptly halt in your tracks when he opens the seat compartment of his motorcycle and pulls out an extra helmet. He hands it to you without even glancing your way.

You huff and take it from him, examining the inside as if he were carrying some kind of disease which makes him scoff.

“You’re so fucking annoying. Just put it on,” he snaps as he reaches for his own helmet, clicking the fastener open.

You turn your back to him, not wanting to look like an idiot in front of him as you try to figure out how to click open the fastener. It’s different from any you’ve seen before.

A deep sigh rings in your ears from behind you until a low voice mumbles, “Let me do it.”

Why did that make your knees almost buckle?

He walks around you, leaving his own helmet abandoned on the seat of his bike and closes whatever distance you two have left as he snatches the helmet out of your hands.

Rude little shit.

“I can do it myse–”

“No, you literally can’t,” he snaps as he clicks it open and shoves it onto your head without warning. “It’s like you’re always trying to piss me off.”

You innocently blink up at him, pretty lashes kissing your brow hairs with every blink you send his way. He doesn’t seem to care, though, as he tilts your chin up with the tip of his index finger, his other fingers safely clasping the fastener. After he’s checked whether the helmet’s on you the way it should be, you can’t help but let the words—that have been dying to come out—roll right off your tongue now that his attention isn’t on the safety of his passenger anymore.

“Trying? It seems like my attempts have been successful.”

At this, his eyes shoot right at yours, staring at you through his thick brows. He’s got an unreadable expression on his face, somewhere between disbelief and confusion.

Your eyes shift to his tattooed knuckles for a split moment as he drops his hands from the fastener of your helmet.

Hmm. That’s weird.

They vaguely look familiar to you.

Don’t they kind of look like–

No. There’s no fucking way. Don’t ever think that again.

His tongue peeks out at the corner of his mouth, toying with his lip rings for a few moments. “So, you agree that you purposefully try to get on my nerves?” he reiterates, big black eyes piercing through yours so intensely that it snaps you out of your trance, the back of your head and neck starting to heat up.

“Well, I have to get my lick back somehow, or no?” you say with a teasing purse of your lips. You brush past him and head to his motorcycle, eyeing it intently and examining it as if you know anything about fucking motorcycles.

Harley Davidson Motorcycles.

Whatever that is.

An annoyed scoff escapes him but you don’t pay much attention to him, not when he’s already walking up behind you. He reaches past you and takes his own helmet back into his hands, shoving it onto his head before fastening it. He throws his leg over the seat before sinking down and turns his head to glance over his shoulder at you.

A gentle sigh pushes past your lips as you inch closer and try to think of ways to get onto the bike without touching him. You don’t want to touch him.

Your first attempt already fails miserably when you try to get your leg over the bike without holding onto anything for support.

“What the fuck are you even doing?” he groans, hanging his head down because he’s tired of watching you being a fucking idiot.

“Trying to get on, what does it look like?” you snap back with a pinch of a bratty twang to your voice as you stand there with your hands on your hips after your failed attempt of getting on without touching him.

You watch as he physically fights the urge to yell, your eyes focused on the way his entire body tenses, specifically the way muscles in his shoulders and arms twitch. The rain only showers down on the concrete in front of you, harder and harder. The longer you stay stubborn, the more slippery the roads become.

You’re lucky this store has a canopy, shielding you from the rain you’ve already been drenched by.

When he’s finally had enough of your shenanigans, he gets off the motorcycle in one swift move and turns to you. He closes the distance between you two so quickly that only one of your feet can take a step back from the sudden proximity before he gently places both of his hands on your waist yet firmly pushes your body backwards—in the direction of his motorcycle.

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[moomstersnuffer]

GUYS. GUYS. It's gonna be okay. Just think of it this way because I saw @tastywormfood talking about this and it lowkey comforted me just a tiny bit.

Season 4 is a prequel, okay? It's the badly written season that they tried to fit in between s2 and 3 but did a terrible job. S3 is the actual finale where we get the yummy Snufmin angst and fluff and an amazing ending. So here's a lil comfort checklist that'll for sure cheer us all up after the long disastrous few days we've suffered through.

1. Take a nice long breath of Moominvalley air and say some positive affirmations.

-"S4 is a prequel"

-"Snufmin is the original meant-to-be"

-"I will survive this. Probably"

-"S3 will save me"

-"So will fanfiction"

2. Rewatch S3 and bask in the warmth that is Snufmin fluff and pining. Specifically, watch episode 8. Near the end. 18:36. Don't judge me.

3. Go to AO3 and pray to the Hobgoblin that it isn't shut down for once. If the Hobgoblin answers your prayers, go read every Snufmin fic you can get your paws on. I promise you'll feel better ;)

4. Let's all go pay @faygosta on YouTube a visit and blow up his notifications on his old Snufmin 3d video. Gotta get this guy to save our lives and help us create the better season that was always meant to be, am I right? Plus, his video alone could do a great deal of cheering up. Trust me.

5. Art is a great healing method and Pinterest is a great place to start your Snufmin art therapy sessions. God knows how much we need them after this.

6. Keep up hope that there's actually gonna be a finale episode in the coming months that I've been hearing snippets about. Maybe we'll get a little more mercy and kindness from the writers then after they've had a chance to simmer in the heat of the crockpot mess of a fandom they've created.

Good lord I have never been so disappointed in my life. We got queerbaited like no fandom has ever been before(unless the newly shortened Good Omens season has anything to say about it). But we are a strong fandom, a united fandom, one that cares about justice and freedom for their gay lil bois. Can I get an AMEN?! We'll get through this somehow!

[moon-my-beloved]

Wicked Game: a little snippet of the next chapter :3

“I don’t think I can do this.” You mutter nervously, clenching your sweaty palms against the fabric of your gloves for the millionth time that day as you sit in the passenger seat of Laswell’s car. You two had arrived earlier than expected and were now parked outside the house that belonged to the four men Kate had been speaking of these last couple of days. You barely caught any of it though, too busy trying to figure out why you even agreed to do this in the first place.

You had managed to grasp little bits of information from the conversation, at least important ones that Laswell could provide to you. John being the oldest of friends she had met at a London soccer game. A quirk on her lip forming as she recounts how their first conversation, more like a debate, started their friendship. They worked together, in an organization of some sort called ‘Task Force 1-4-1’ taking down bad guys as Laswell simply put it. That’s where the other three come in: Simon, Johnny, and Kyle. She had explained that they all have worked together on various missions she could not disclose but made it clear that these were people she trusted with her life.

“They’re family.” Crow's feet deepened as her eyes crinkled with the smile she wore while talking about them. You knew Laswell would never lie to you but at that moment you felt the warmth in her words with how much compassion and inclination she had for her team.

She had spared any detail of their personal lives, stating that there would be no point in meeting them if she just told you everything that she knew about these men. You’re here to get to know each other, she had said, not knowing that it was probably the last thing you wanted these four guys to accomplish.

It was really meaningless. You would just end up being a small blip in their minds once this whole ordeal is over.

“Getting cold feet on me?” An amused expression written all over her face at your troubling state. Turning off the engine and unbuckling herself, she turns her body to face you as she crosses her arms over her chest “Nervous?”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you lean your elbow against the small space between the window and you, rubbing your fingers over your eyes before breaking the silence. “You know I’m not good at whatever this is,” Hand waving desperately in the air and eyes flickering towards the house and hers just to be met with a stoic face as she listens to you ramble about how you just want to go back home like you’re a spoiled child having a tantrum in the middle of a candy store. You might as well be at this point. Pressing your lips together in an attempt to stop yourself from saying too much, you sit up and look at yourself in the front view mirror. “I just don’t know what to do, Kate.”

‘You don’t want to disappoint her.’

A small chuckle can be heard from the woman along with a warm palm against your shoulder breaking you out of your thoughts as you lift your head just enough to meet Kate’s sympathetic yet serious gaze.

“You won’t mess it up if that’s what you’re worried about. I know this can be.. different for you but I promise, things will go great.” A soft smile on her lips as she gives your cheek a small pat before pulling away. “Just let me do the talking and we’ll go off from there, okay? Baby steps.” She reassures you, grabbing the small bags of gifts from the backseat for you to take. “Here, you’ll be my little delivery person for today.” She says as she hops off the car and closes the door behind her.

“Shit- wait!” You give yourself a quick once-over, barely managing to catch up to Kate as you try your very best to avoid any of the small gifts from falling off your arms. “Rude.” You say when you meet Kate at the front door.

“We don’t want to keep the boys waiting with how eager they’ve been to meet my ‘mystery’ friend.” The corner of her lip twitching up into a smirk as she points at the door. “You ready?”

“Just knock.” You say. A bit harsher than you wanted it to come out as you look the other way to find anything to distract yourself from your own misery.

Rolling her eyes, Kate lifts up her hand and lands three solid knocks against the wood of the door, shoving her own hands into the warmth of her puffer jacket. You think you hear Laswell complain about how cold it is before a booming voice can be heard coming from the other side of the door followed by heavy footsteps inching closer.

You tense up, feeling like your heart is about to beat itself out of your rib cage if that’s even possible with how anxious you are.

‘Fuck. Maybe you can make a run for it.’

As if Laswell could sense what you were thinking, she grabs the hem of your coat to hold you in place before the door swings open.