#I should've focused time on other stuff

[commissionsdarian]

It's quiet here. There were plans to have a speaker system around the bigger bunkers to try to fill the sensory gaps. But I think it made things feel worse

[cregansdingdong]

imagine cregan and y/n breaking the bed one night just because of his sheer strength and muscle whilst pounding her, ik the conversation with the winterfell wood crafter would be awks as hell afterwards whilst asking for it to be repaired 😇😇

IM HAVING A PROPHETIC VISION, ANON.

At this point, Cregan and his boo thang are just going to have to become familiar with the man. There is no other option, because your choices are either to have this embarrassing conversation a multitude of times with multiple woodcrafters or just one. Because if y'all think this is a one-time thing, you are terribly mistaken.

Cregan is a very passionate person in bed, regardless if he's on top or not. He wants to make sure the two of you are satiated—that does mean the bed will snap like a twig under a boot i dont make the rules i just work here. Personally, I find the actual deliverance of the bedframe to be the most mortifying. Firstly, that big ass broken bed has to be dismantled and removed, if it's not fixable, which takes manpower, and then the new one brought into the Great Keep and put together. Otherwise, the woodcrafter is going to have to make a house call and show up with his tools and planks, walking toward your marital chambers which is embarrassing too :)

ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ. (thoughts ver.)

NSFW stuff under the cut. 18+ only. I'm not responsible for the content you choose to consume. ty.

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That familiar groan under his weight should've been the first warning sign, but Cregan was too distracted to notice. He was lapping at her pretty cunt, tongue delving as deep as he could go and as thorough as he could be without the motions being too unsteady. Alright maybe he did notice initially, but the thought was very quickly shoved to the back of his mind—especially when his pretty wife was trying to rock herself onto his nose, letting out the most quiet of whimpers muffled by their sheets. His ears were focused on her and her only.

With her pearl rubbing against his bridge and his cock feeling so strained in his trousers, no one could really blame him for forgetting about the delicate state of the bed in an instant. Last time they’d gotten particularly frantic in their lovemaking, there had been a low snap somewhere beneath the mattress, a taunt that he was probably too hefty to be moving so much. But winter was coming, a man’s gotta eat…in more ways than one.

By the time he’d recalled they should begin to take it easy on the bed, he was already balls deep behind her, hands gripping the flesh of her ass like a lifeline. He was suffocating in the best way, cock nestled inside, fogging his brain with nothing but instinct. And then she started begging. By then, well, he decided they needed a new bed anyway—six moons wasn’t too bad. Lasted longer than the previous replacement. Three harsh, unrelenting spanks bloom red on her backside as she squeezes around him, sending his blood pumping to the beat of an imaginary war drum. It would be a miracle from the Gods if she wasn’t pregnant by mid-summer. Cregan just couldn’t help himself.

Rutting against her like a man starved, the right side of the bed almost completely collapses, caving in and nearly throwing him off balance. His wife gasped, pleasure momentarily halted as she looked back at him. “Again? Seriously? I told you to write to him last time, did you?” The answer was no, no he did not. “It might have…slipped…my mind.” He murmured, trying to ignore the throbbing in his full balls. They had a silent conversation of glares and a sheepish grin. Then she concedes. “...We might as well finish then. I doubt it can get any worse.”

It could, actually. And it did. He came hard some twenty minutes later, pounding their hips together with a steady desperation. The dip of the broken side was a little annoying, but manageable. Without the support, the right beams of the canopy end up falling right down. No one was harmed, of course. It was only drapes. Cregan found it almost comical but his wife did not. It was going to be a long letter.

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[an-ruraiocht]

90% of the time when i see reviews and posts saying "this book needed editing" i don't think the reader have any idea what editing actually entails. usually this is actually code for one of several "problems" with the book:

it's too long, or it's slower paced than this reader's preference. they believe "editing" would mean making it shorter

it has a heavily descriptive style, which the reader doesn't like. they believe "editing" means paring every sentence down to hemingway-style prose with no adverbs

it doesn't follow the very rigid "save the cat" style 3-act story structure, disrupting the reader's sense of narrative tension. an editor, they believe, would've made sure it did

there were a few typos or formatting errors, and they believe it's the editor's job to catch these (it's not, it's typically the proofreader and the typesetter who have responsibility for that kind of thing)

and finally, most often:

the author had different narrative priorities than the reader, who thinks an editor would have made the author change their priorities.

the thing is, there are actually issues with editors in trad publishing being overworked to the point where things aren't getting the thorough, thoughtful editing that they need to be the best version of themselves. there are plenty of badly-structured, poorly-researched, and clumsily written books out there. moreover copyediting is typically freelance and perhaps because of that, this is the area where i see the largest number of issues: continuity issues, grammar issues, factual errors etc that someone should've spotted and didn't.

but this is not typically what people's "this needed an editor" reviews are focusing on. most often it just means they didn't like the book and they've decided editing is an all-powerful force that would have transformed it into a book they liked. but that's not how it works. and disproportionately what this comment means is that the book doesn't match what current fashions have decided is The Correct Style to write in

"this book needed an editor" if it's traditionally published, it had one. like. by definition. it was an editor who bought the book. that doesn't mean the editor did a great job but they definitely existed. there were probably at least two (acquiring editor who does the dev edits; copyeditor who does copyedits), and the proofreader, and a bunch of other people besides.

also i think people think editors are the ones who like. implement the changes. but they don't. they give comments and recommendations and ask questions and the author is the one to act on them. the editor will not rewrite the book. they will not fix the problems themselves, they will highlight the problem and the author will figure out a fix for it, or they will decide they don't agree that it's a problem and leave it as it. and a lot of the sentence-level style stuff is entirely on the author so if they don't have an ear for the rhythm then nobody's going to fix that for them. editors do a lot less than people seem to imagine they do, tbh

anyway

for reference—

structural/developmental edits: is this chapter in the right place and does the plot make sense and is the characterisation consistent and effective

line edits: is this sentence in the right place and is it as stylish as it could be

copy edits: is this sentence grammatically correct and consistent/factually correct within the story/its world and do the spellings follow the publisher's stylesheet

proofreading: are there any typos in this sentence and was the formatting preserved correctly when it was typeset

[emphistic]

Moonstruck

a/n: im going to try a new format for one-shots bc i dont like how my old one looked

Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul

"He's staring at you!" Your friend, Zoe, whisper-shouted in a singsong tone.

"He's such a moron," you grumbled, focused on finishing your assignment.

"Y/N, c'mon," Zoe turned to you with a serious look on her face. "You should totally just give him a chance. He's got the hots for you, hundred and twenty percent," your friend patted herself on the back.

You sighed, "That's ridiculous," before turning over to look at Sukuna for yourself.

And as your friend has said, he was already staring at you. He rested his head on his fist, and delivered a sultry look your way.

You cocked your head to the side, as if to say, what?

Sukuna mouthed back, you know what, before he lifted his head from his fist, and flipped you off.

Speechless, you gawked at the pink-haired man.

"He is so into you, girl."

"He is so not," you muttered, turning back to face your friend.

"But Y/N," she whined, "you guys are literally so cute together. Combining both of your genes will literally make the best babies."

"He's such an oaf, the most annoying man-child I've ever met," you rolled your eyes, before shaking your head.

At this point, Zoe just gave up on her matchmaking abilities, and rested her head on the desk beside yours.

All the while — across the classroom — Sukuna's twin brother, Yuuji, was no different from Zoe.

Yuuji wiggled his eyebrows at his older brother, "I see the way you look at her. Ooooh, does my cold-hearted brother have a crush?"

Sukuna glared down at Yuuji, who was making kissy faces and noises, "I should've eaten you in the womb."

Yuuji immediately dropped his act, "How dare you."

The rest of the class went by quickly; your friend said she had something to do so you just packed up your stuff.

Minutes after you left the room and entered the hallway, you were roughly pulled into what you assumed was a janitor's closet.

You heard the door lock behind you.

Even in the dark, you could still cleary make out two crimson eyes staring back at you.

"Sukuna. Why are we here?"

"Don't play dumb," he walked towards you as you kept on backing away, until your back met the wall. "God, you're so fucking annoying."

Your eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, and you saw Sukuna lean down towards you, your noses barely apart. Your breathing quickened.

"I can't stop thinking about you. You've been in my head all day," Sukuna narrowed his eyes at you.

"And just, what are you going to do that?"

Something snapped in Sukuna, he didn't even bother holding back.

You felt one of his hands roughly grip your waist, while the other tangled itself in your hair. He breathed in your scent; it was intoxicating for him.

He forced his lips onto you like an animal, before biting your bottom lip, drawing blood. You gasped, and he took the opportunity to shove his tongue inside.

This wasn't new to either of you, you've been in this little arrangement of yours for quite some time now. Albeit your friends know nothing of it; which is probably best.

"Sukuna," you giggled against his lips.

"Mm, you're so beautiful. Just can't get enough of you."

Your noses brushed against each other.

"Hah—" You found it hard to breathe.

Sukuna pulled your hair, emitting a squeal from you.

"Sukuna, please, I can't—" You felt tears sting your eyes, your mascara smeared over your cheeks.

He pressed his lips against yours, "Just for a little more. You can take that, right?"

You fervently nodded, although you felt a little dazed, and out of your mind.

The seconds passed by slowly, and the minutes passed by even slower, until Sukuna finally decided he was satisified.

He pulled away, and smirked to himself, looking at your half-lidded eyes, your mascara stained face, your lips stuck out in a pout. And as cocky as he was, Sukuna couldn't deny he was also out of breath.

Panting, you said, "You're such a jerk."

"Sure, sweetheart." Sukuna wiped your lipgloss off of his now shining lips.

"Serious, 'Kuna. You need to learn to let me breathe."

Sukuna rolled his eyes, "Pfft — as if you weren't the one provoking me."

You scoffed, and fixed your hair — or, well, attempted to, at least.

Sukuna adjusted his pants, and ruffled his unruly hair, before moving his hand to unlock the closet. You stood behind him in anticipation.

A beat passed.

"Well? What's taking you so long? Don't know how to unlock a door?" You teased, but when Sukuna didn't retaliate, you soon realized the direness of the situation at hand.

"It's not unlocking," Sukuna turned to face you, confusion mixed in his tone.

"I see that, dumbass," you muttered, sliding down the wall into a sitting position.

You were going to be here for a while.

What could you do to pass time?

[ollyissleppy]

a/n: had this on my mind for a bit too long and I went from a one-time thing to full ass work, will post the masterlist tomorrow probably (the taglist is open!) tags: he fell first she fell harder, kenma is a bit of a loser, starving artist x (semi) rich guy trope, gender neutral reader!!!, reader is called 'dude', no usage of y/n cw: alcohol, swearing

← prev. | m.list | next →

Kenma looks down at his almost empty glass. His head feels fuzzy due to all the alcohol that's currently in his system. He tries his best to stay quiet and prays his viewers or friends don't notice his lack of commentary. Kenma knows to play it safe when it comes to his drinking due to his secret-spilling tendencies. He tries to protect himself from the embarrassment on top of the headache he will feel tomorrow. He turns his attention to Bokuto, who's currently talking about how much he misses his dear boyfriend as he's finishing his drink. Bokuto shoves his glass right in front of Kenma's face so Kuroo, who's sat on streamers other side, can refill his drink. Kuroo then proceeds to do the same for Kenma, leaning closer to one of the monitors to read what the chat is saying. Even though he was trying his best, the messages were coming in way too quickly for Kuroo to be able to read them. Just as he was planning to give up, a donation came through:

@ username: $30 for kodzuken to finish the glass and share his thoughts.

Kuroo reads out loud the donation, and with a grin on his face, he turns to look at his childhood friend. It catches Bokuto's attention, and he also starts to look at Kenma, waiting for him to say something. 

'Shit' Kenma thinks, as now all of the attention is on him and not on the buffy men beside him. He should've made them wear compression shirts to further distract people from him. He thanks whatever high deity is currently looking over him to make sure he won't drink too quickly and still have control over his tongue.

"I'm not thinking." Kenma tries his best to avoid talking, even if it will make him look weird. He has too much on his mind and even more to loose. 

"No thoughts, nice." Bokuto chuckles softly as he zones out, staring at the wall behind one of the monitors. Kenma observes him for a bit just to see Bokuto blink too slowly for the streamers liking. 

"He might need a glass or two before we can make him talk," Kuroo says as he pours another glass for Kenma the moment his friend focuses on the volleyball player. 

As another round of drinks is poured, Kenma's judgement is getting more and more clouded. His tongue loosens up, which doesn't go unnoticed by his childhood friend. Kuroo, who was waiting for this moment, asks Kenma once again to share his thoughts. A few moments pass in silence before Kenma speaks up:

"I think I'm in love, and we don't even know each other." Kenma's head hangs low. 

"So what? That never stopped anyone!" Bokuto hates seeing any of his friends sad, so he tries to cheer Kenma up. He even went as far as putting an arm around his friend, which was quickly pushed away.

"It makes me feel so stupid, y'know? Like I know close to nothing about them. I don't know what they look like or which school they go to. I only know their name because I made a whole ass discord account just so I could see all the backstage stuff of their videos. I'm in love with someone who doesn't even know that I fucking exist. I'm in love with an illusion, for fucks sake!" Kenma raises the hand with the glass in it so high so quickly that he loses his balance, Kuroo's swift moves being the only thing saving him from falling over.

Bokuto shakes his head to agree while he still tries to process the words that just left Kenma's mouth. It takes him a minute before his own mind can come up with a thought of his own. When it finally does, Bokuto screams out: "WE SHOULD PLAY A GAME!"

"Yeah, let's pick something," Kuroo agrees, getting closer to the PC to look for something not too hard that they can play. Part of him hopes that people will not remember Kenma's confession and focus their attention on something funny that will happen while playing.

"Yeah, let's pick something," Kuroo agrees, getting closer to the PC to look for something not too

Kodzuken's viewers, on the other hand, didn't plan on letting this go. It was the first time their favourite streamer mentioned being interested in anyone, and they saw an opportunity. As Kuroo and Bokuto look for a game, chat is getting to work, with the stream now being nothing more than background noise.

★ FUNFACTS ❗️

• mattsun is one of kenma's mods I needed a connection between (name) and kenma and the wheel landed on him

• also I have no clue why the date is in Polish since my entire phone uses English (like yes I'm from Poland but I changed the language in my settings years ago)

• also I feel like Bokuto zones out a lot when drunk

• kenma ignored request for drinking stream for months but he ran out of ideas so he just did it in hopes that people will have better request next time

@boogiemansbitch @vaedotcom @bae-ashlynn

[ouiouimochi]

pairing: soshiro hoshina x reader

genre: established rs, fluff, romance

wc: 725

warning/s: wonky phone format , no beta we die like the words that should've spilled out of my mouth when I see hoshina, suggestive at the end ehe

note/s: inspired by yet another real life experience

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You and Soshiro were just basking in each other's presence while doing your own thing. You turned to the next page of your book, looking up when your boyfriend stood up from his seat to get something from the filing cabinet beside you. You caught his attention immediately and batted your lashes, your lips curving upwards.

He sauntered over to you and bent down to your height seated on the plush office sofa. You grabbed his face and peppered it with kisses before nuzzling your cheek into his. His magenta orbs looked into yours lovingly before he retaliated with his own barrage of kisses but on your lips.

You giggled, feeling airy from his affection.

“Love youuuu,” you drawled out your words as he pulled away before brushing his lips against the crown of your head.

“Love ‘ya too, dear.” He chuckled to himself while walking back to his desk.

You two shared a glance then it was back to respectively working on your own tasks. You were peacefully humming as you continued reading the book about kaiju. A weight sank itself beside you, so you turned to find Soshiro had settled to doing his paperwork next to you instead and placed the rest of the papers on the coffee table. You grinned before planting your lips on his cheek again, he reciprocated with multiple kisses that left you breathless.

Again, back to work.

A few minutes later, you found yourself comfortably laying on the sofa, careful to not accidentally kick your dearest. A yawn escaped your mouth as you finally finished the damn book, staring boredly at the ceiling afterwards.

You shifted a little, the ever so cautious male taking notice immediately. He then carried both of your legs to rest on top of his lap before leaning towards your face to nudge his nose with yours gently in an eskimo kiss. You gave him a peck, and he showered you with more.You laughed airily, thinking it was done—

Until he firmly placed his lips on yours in a slightly more heated kiss. You had no time to react, completely flustered at his unexpected gesture. He pulled away and smirked at your expression, a canine poking out from the corner.

“I- ‘Shiro!” You babbled out, making your boyfriend laugh. He gently pinches your cheek, eyes filled with complete adoration.

“So adorable, ‘might just eat you up,” he licked his lips, a glint in his opened eyes.

Soshiro continued on to his work as if he did not just knock the wind out of you. You mentally grumbled while pulling out your phone to read a bunch of other… stuff. Your eyes took in a few juicy scenes, reminding you of a certain someone, so you peaked over from the device, staring at the purple haired man. He didn't seem to notice and was instead focused on the rest of his work.

You pouted unconsciously. The vice Captain's phone vibrates with a notification on the coffee table and his attention snaps towards it. He briefly scanned it before turning to you completely.

“Have to go to an unscheduled meeting today, dear.” He announced, his voice holding such a wonderful timbre to it.

“‘mmkay. Good luck, babe.”(chappel roan omg-) You stretched your arms, urging Soshiro for a hug. He leans forward to indulge your wordless request.

In a blink, you unexpectedly find yourself pinned to the couch with one of his legs right at your core. He swallowed any sound that may have escaped your past your lips as he hungrily kissed you with fervor. You gripped his toned arms that were underneath the Defense Force uniform in order to try grounding yourself back to reality. His tongue poked at your lower lip, causing you to instinctively open them wider to let him in.

The moment didn't come however when he pulled away completely and his face displayed another fanged smirk in your direction. He kissed you on your forehead while poking your nose lightly with his index finger.

“I’ll be right back, m’ dearest.” Soshiro opened one of his eyes to observe your expression better before closing it and languidly strolling out the office.

You just laid there in absolute disbelief, the door closing shut as his light padded footsteps fade away. You wanted to scream and shout in frustration and despair.

He just left you there, high and not very much dry.

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oops. here ya go @justwinginglife , @maruflix , @iamjellyfish

[haruchi-slit]

PERSONAL CUM-SLUT!

synopsis: Geto Suguru is your college bully and to make things worst your boyfriend messed up so Suguru wants you.

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You were walking in the school hallways, minding your own busines, you stride to your locker- grabbing your books inside.

while grabbing your books you heard a voice from your side you almost yelped when you saw Geto towering you, "awh look at her, with her stupid, stupid glasses-" Suguru says while pressing his index finger to your forehead over and over again. you slapped his finger and hand away then gave him a frown "what do you want?"

you stared at him with fury in your eyes ready to pounce him down, but nevermind he's twice taller than you. Suguru's been making your life living hell since middle school and you'd like to punch him for that, does he have reasons?

yes.

he just wants to destroy your innocence, your purity and he loves it when your face turns into a huge frown, "tryna study again i see, four eyes?" "Fuck you!" you said and turned to him then slapped your locker's door on to his face "ouch-!" he reached his face with his hand to soothe the pain, "bet you'd like that yeah?" he says with a smug look, a blush rose from your cheeks as you're trying not to cringe at what he said, "ugh fuck yourself Suguru!" you said slamming your locker's door once again to his face "wha- fuck that hurts!" he screamed, you quickly shut your locker and walked away as fast a you can, Suguru tried to catch up but before he could catch up to you, you were already gone.

'fuck,fuck,fuck,fuck,fuck' you chanted inside your head as your blush across your cheeks worsen as you walked away, you went straight to the rooftop after seeing Geto, is no where to be found you tip-toed up stairs making sure no one's following you.

You opened your books and angel sat on the cloth you've brought, you spanned it on the rooftop's floor, you positioned near the railings cause you liked the view there and the air's refeshing too. you placed your glasses on top of your head and started reading your textbooks.

you should've enjoyed the silence while it lasted, cause suguru guessed that you'd be at the rooftop and he was right, you were so focused that you didn't felt suguru was behind you, he squated down to your level right next to your ear, "Found you." he whispered, which caused you to turn your head to your shoulder,

and fuck you almost kissed you backed away with wide eyes, you can feel you heart beat fast as you looked into his chocolate hazel eyes.

"S-Stop staring at me Suguru, Dumbass!" you said with mixed fury and nervousness, even though you backed away you two are still inches from each others mouth, Suguru raised his eyebrows "you're the one's staring honey" your move stiffined as he spoke in a low groan, you can't lie even though he made your life miserable, he's fucking hot (can't blame you girl) "Can you not!" you screamed putting your glasses back to the bridge of you nose, damn your eyes widen much more, you're fucked up and he likes it.

"Can you not" he mocks while moving his hand to mimic your mouth movements,

You stood up, backing away completely,

"Why are you like this Suguru! you've literally ruined my life since middle school what on earth do you what huh?" you'd snap, you just couldn't take it anymore you just want a peace and quiet study time but this man won't leave you alone! And for some shit he's been doing it for the last years! what on heaven, hell and earth does this guy wants?

"You really wanna know huh?" he groans slowly standing up, approaching your figure until you bumped on the sturdy concrete wall,

"You. I want you." he whispers narrowing his eyes up and down on your body "and I'll do whatever it takes to make you mine wether you like it. or not." your breathe hitched as your blush spreads across you cute face. you pushed him away and quickly grabbed your stuff that's laying on the floor before running downstairs, the man watched your worried look as he chuckled.

The next day...same as before study study study. you thought it'd be "just a normal day" but it was far from what you we're expecting.

"I want your petty little girlfriend, or you're fucked." Suguru says holding your boyfriend's bloody face, squishing his cheeks roughly, "you can't even treat her well." he adds, intensifing his grip on the boy's face

"so 'm taking her."

"Yes, yes she's yours! 'm sorry 'm sorry!" your boyfriend plead "I won't do it again just please-!" "Good boy haha" Suguru laughs with Satoru as he kicked your boyfriend to the ground,

"Text her to come to the rooftop after her last subject!" Suguru shouts as he walked away.

Meanwhile... you're attending your last subject for the day, suddenly, Ding. Ding. Ding.

you received a message from who? you asked your self, you took a peak on your phone.

Boyfie💝: where are you?!

Boyfie💝:are you in class?

Boyfie💝:if you are, come to the rooftop after that, please.

you bit the inside of your cheek as you put your phone down, confused. you tried to focus on what your professor was teaching and after your class you rushed to put your things away in your locker before going to your universities rooftop

you opened the door and it was practically empty. Just you, your boyfriend and Suguru Geto..you walked in very confused on why's Geto here, "Oh look she's here, tell her now" Suguru spoke as he playfully nudge your boyfriend's "I messed up, I'm sorry" your boyfriend says with his head down, you are very confused.

"what do you mean!" you asked, "He messed up and now you're paying for it." you heard Suguru talk, "WHAT?" "I said your boyfriend messed up so you're paying for his foolishness." repeats "Be my slave and your boyfriend's gonna be safe and sound" he adds

you gulped down so hard you swore it was like swallowing a damn rock, "Y/n please..." your boyfriend begs, "you have no choice" Suguru says with a smug smirk. Goodness.

"Fine, i'll be your slave!" he approached you and whispered, "cumslave." Suguru corrects, "WHAT! NO!" "Then I'm telling the principal to expell your boyfriend then" he backs out, before shruging his shoulders. you couldn't speak nor move you clenched you fist in to a ball then fixing your glasses.

Suguru pushed your boyfriend, "You're good now. Leave." Suguru says to your boyfriend, your boyfriend quickly stood up and ran away,

"did he said his breaking up with you?" he says infront of your sour face, that soon turned into a shocked figure, Suguru whips his phone out showing you a video, it was your boyfriend making out with some girl.

"He was using you" You almost cried but not now cause you're fucked! Suguru grabs the opportunity to grab you and lead you to the locker room. he closed the door behind as you sat down in the bench, your tears dropped down unconsciously as you clenched your thighs harshly that it turned to red.

"Are you seriously crying instead of taking revenge or something?"

Now here you are, denying at first then giving in later, your legs sparwled lustfully on air as Suguru flicked your sopped pussy with your ass stuffed with toys, fucking you so good in the Universities locker room, "S'guru s-too much-!" you moaned softly, as Suguru teased your clothed tits, he latched his mouth to your cunt making you arch your back in pleasure as you balled your hands with a fistful of his hair, he grinds the bridge of his nose to your puffy cunt making you insane, "too much, too much too-" you were cut off as the locker room's door swung open, Suguru swiftly grabbed you inside a empty locker.

fuckfuckfuckfuck! you'd chant in the back of your head as you're currently pressed to Suguru's chest, and his hard on, both of your breathing went uneven as the people that was in the locker room was half a meter away from the locker you and Suguru's in, your dripping cunt was exposed to thin air and Geto Suguru takes advantage of that to it's limits he glides his hand to your clitoris making you yelp suddenly, the people inside the locker room went SILENT, you quickly covered your mouth hoping they wouldn't find the two of you.

"Guys do you heard that?" the guy asked

"Yeah, but probably that's just the wind" the other guy said. "we probably should get going now." the girl said they all agreed as they walked to the exit.

after the people walked out, he lays you on the bench once again as he spreads you legs.

"soo wet, you're such a slut aren't you?" your breath went uneven, he unbuckled his slacks letting it hang around his waist revealing his angry pink tip, he teased your entrance flicking your clit using his cock before entering your cunt, your legs trembled.

"we almost got caught and your pussy drippin' wet?" he watches how his cock got easily devoured by your gummy walls

"fuck-! you're soo tight." he says trying to buck his hips on you, he stretched your leg to your shoulder so you can adjust and take his dick right "take it like a slut, fuck whore" he say before moving in a inhuman speed, he watched your boobs recoil up and down and it turns him on so much "fix your glasses so you can see how I can fuck you good" you obelige, you were surprised that your glasses stayed on even how fast Suguru thrusts. you were a moaning mess, you can feel him penetrating your womb over and over again, your climax was sooner than he expected, after you came he quickly followed. your cunt was stuffed with his thick ropes of cum, some of it was on your hair and abdomen, "fuck" he breathes heavily, catching his breath.

after coming down from your high he stood you up and helped you clean your mess,

"Slap your ex-boyfriend once you see him, I got your back." he says smiling softly.

a/n: so ha...ha...ha i hope this doesn't flops it has 1.7k words in it please dear lord.. anyways hope you enjoyed this...i was 2 days late but atleast! PLS DON'T FLOP! the fic's too long so I had to cut it out, and as far as i can remember i scrapped this fic more than 4 times I'm not exaggerating it

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Pregnancy scare with Tan? 🫢

im so not okay bc I love stuff like this😮‍💨 thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

I haven’t used a tan gif in so long omg!! this makes it fun

BROWN PAPER BAG.

tangerine x fem!reader — angst

word count. 895

warnings. made it angsty and a little dramatic bc i love prego scare fics. the ending is meant to be up in the air, so you can imagine the results you want.

Late periods were often nothing to worry about, your underwear almost always spotting with blood mere hours after your little panics. Though, this time, it felt different. Those few hours never rolled around, and they quickly began to turn into days - and with every day that passed, your head filled with more dread.

You didn't want to worry Tangerine with something that could be nothing, so you kept all uneasy thoughts to yourself - letting yourself wallow in the feeling alone. But you were never truly alone, and no matter how hard you pushed him away, he would still be there - patiently waiting for you to let him back in.

He noticed the change in you recently, and every time he tried to question it, all he would get from you in response was a simple, 'it's nothing,' or a 'just tired.' But he's far too stubborn to let that be it. 

You had just returned home from the pharmacy, brown paper bag stashed tightly inside your handbag - keeping it hidden. You place it on the sideboard beside the front door and head to the kitchen to get a drink, filling a glass with water. 

Tangerine makes his way over to you and presses a kiss into your cheek, welcoming you back. "Don't suppose you got me deodorant?" he asks, referring to the little list he gave you before you left.

You hum, smiling at him as you place the glass down, moving across to get a snack from the cupboard. "In my bag," you gesture to the front door.

Before you have a second to realise what you've said, Tangerine has his hand in your bag, his grip tight on the paper bag. When you hear the rustling, you rush over to him and try to pry it from his hands.

He would've left it be, but you were so desperate to stop him that it only made him more sceptical. He holds the bag at a height, extending the other out to you - keeping you at a distance.

"Don't— just," you mutter, reaching for the bag. "Come on, just— please. Give it back."

"No," he shakes his head, voice almost stern. "Do you want to tell me? Or should I save us the trouble and look myself?" he asks, giving you no options.

You shake your head, lips tight to stop them from wobbling. You felt cornered, stuck in a problem you created for yourself. You stand still, containing your attempts to stop him, but when his hand reaches inside the bag, you turn around and leave the room - the atmosphere growing tense for you to want to deal with.

You make your way to your shared room, leaving him in the hallway to connect the dots by himself. You felt mortified for the way it had all just played out, embarrassment creeping in and replacing those feelings of dread. You close the bedroom door when you hear the stairs creak, the familiar footsteps of your lover making his way up. 

He knocks on the door before he opens it. He lingers in the doorway for a beat, watching you fiddle with things on the dresser. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks, tone like that of hurt. "That's why you've been so off with me."

You hate keeping him in the lurk, especially about something as big as this —though it still could be nothing— so you decide to stop fighting it. 

"I'm late," you utter, avoiding his focused gaze. "I'm late. And I'm scared for what it means."

He pauses, trying to collect himself and push away his prior wounded feelings - wanting to reassure you, seeing as you needed it more right now. 

"And that's why you bought..." he strings off, referring to your bag of pregnancy tests. 

You sigh softly and pinch the bridge of your nose. "Yeah," you nod, moving to sit at the edge of the bed. "I should've told you," you speak towards the floor - diverting from his attention.

He follows suit and stands in front of you, crouching down to meet your eyeline. "Yeah, you should've," he hums. "But that don't matter right now. How late are you?" he asks, looking over the rectangular box.

"Nearly two weeks," you mumble, sadly smiling at him.

"Two weeks?" he repeats, tone hurt like that time before. "You've been feeling this for two weeks. And you didn't tell me?"

"I wanted to be sure," you shrug, trying to ease the tension. "It's usually nothing to worry about. It's late sometimes, but," you exhale, halting the rest of your sentence.

"But not like this," he finishes your thought. "I really wished you'd told me."

"I know, I'm sorry. I feel awful about it all."

"I wanted to be there for you," he places a hand over your knee, using you for stability as he stands back up. 

He reaches for your hand and helps you stand, his gentle grip leading you towards the bathroom. He stops when he reaches the door and turns to face you - the small white box clutched in his free hand.

"Do you want me to wait out here?" he questions, trying to scope you out.

"No," you reply, finally letting him in. "Can you do it with me?"

He hums, giving your hand a squeeze. "Course."

[seneon]

What if... misunderstandings and miscommunication with orter madl? LIKE IMAGINE HIM BEING SO BUSY WITH WORK AND STUFF THAT HE NEGLECTED READER AND THINGS HAPPEN???

honestly being a divine visionary is extremely difficult to get and be one. if getting it and being one is already hard enough, how hard would it be to make some time for others? poor orter mádl has to go through so much paperworks and little rescuing missions as a dv. so much that he forgot he has other lives to be concerned of.

"i'm a citizen too, am i not? your job as divine visionary is to keep the country and it's citizens safe. but you're forgetting about me, a citizen of the country you're protecting, your lover."

you said, monotonously, with the least interest in the entire world. to orter mádl, who finally found the time to spend with you sfter months of not being able to do so. you, who isn't even looking at him as you speak, but gaze focused on the latest newspaper of the happenings in the country.

how ironic, you're not shouting or getting angry at him. you're saying it in the least interested way there is you could ever portray to orter. and the mádl...? he takes it the wrong way.

"well maybe you should've known that i'm always busy with my job and you should've understand me better than anyone other average citizen," orter said, staring at you with empty eyes that once looked at you with so much admiration and love, now all it is is just a pair of blank honey eyes.

you set the newspaper aside and looked at orter, who's gaze never tear away from you. "perhaps we were never meant to be."

alright. that is probably enough coming out from your mouth. that alone is enough to trigger the mádl. such a little misunderstanding could cause such a threatening and hurtful sentence to be uttered into the world and pierce a nail through someone's heart. even if orter is to patch and mend it up with sand, the sand will all flow down. there is no way he could keep up with this anymore.

"then leave."

note. okay i didn't meant to make it angst-ish but we can't keep sweet mashle fics and bury the angst ones 😡

© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[aklaustaleteller]

Should've Known

When fate made them stumble across each other in an art shop, Y/n should've known that what was coming with Klaus couldn't be anything more than an affair because of her true identity. And yet when she fled town, Y/n hadn't expected the news of a grave mistake made by Klaus' own town to shatter her heart into so many pieces that she’d just let them lay.

Warnings - mentions of death, and a description of an intimate moment. Word Count - 1.3k

I'm so sorry but here I am, serving you guys with another two part-er (I deeply apologise) Part two should be out withing two days and eeek I'm so excited to write it! Hope you all enjoy this one until then <3

Update: You can now read part two here!

This was the second time that their eyes had locked since Y/n had entered the shop, and their mouths instinctively shared a smile once again. Klaus quite simply couldn’t stop looking at her, she was so mesmerising that he wished she didn’t keep catching him every time his eyes would drift onto her to drink in her dreamy sight. 

Her hair was half up and half down, intricate patterns designed like a labyrinth with the sinister intent to hypnotise the one looking, which Klaus very easily was. His eyes trailed down further and met with her eyes, only they were looking down at something while a small frown sat between her brows. Her nose led him lower and then his gaze landed on her mouth, on her lips that looked so pillowy and compelling, their corners lifting up in a smile making Klaus lift up his eyes with a defeated smile that gave away his realisation that he’d been caught staring again. 

She shook her head, a soft laugh escaping her mouth before she went over to the elderly man to pay him for the art supplies she’d collected. She was a piece of art herself, Klaus thought as he saw her leaving but not before passing him a last smile. 

He came back to that art shop more and more frequently then, hoping to see her there but returned home every single time with disappointment weighing his heart lower and lower into his stomach. He just wished to see her again, and again, and again. She was all that was on his mind and with her portrait beginning to lose colour in his memory, he was pathetically desperate to see her again. 

But as he went inside the shop again for the insurmountable time, Klaus’ nose caught a scent that immediately made his eyes light up. This was her fragrance and  once his gaze had lifted, it immediately landed on her already looking and very gently waving at him. 

Klaus smiled at that, focusing his attention on the floor for a bit as he tried to hide his blush and giddiness at finally seeing her again. She looked the same, if not even more alluring because of the green coloured clothing she was dressed in, the colour fading into different shades as her dress poofed and flowed down to meet the ground. 

He nodded at her, his smile not once leaving his mouth as he picked up a set of paint brushes to buy along with a paint set of which the colours fit her appearance the most – which had him staring at her again and again to make sure he wouldn’t mess up any hue. On the other end, Y/n picked a sketchbook and a set of pencils before going back to the front to pay for it. 

Klaus came out soon after her, watching as she paid and left the shop. Klaus hurried to pay for his stuff as well, rushing outside to not miss her, only to find her standing there, waiting for him with the slyest of smiles he’d ever seen. 

As if their eyes had spoken for a brief moment, Klaus’ feet began following hers down the dirt trail that led to a large field bordering a shimmering river. Neither of them uttered a single word on the way, only Y/n glancing back every once in a while to make sure Klaus was still with her. 

It was when Y/n sat herself down by the river when she looked up at him and patted the spot beside her, “come sit,” she added, her voice so soft that Klaus instantly obliged. 

“I’d like to get to know you,” she said, looking him in the eyes with the purest of looks. “Tell me, do you paint as well?” 

Klaus looked ahead of him, a smile stretching his lips as he nodded. “Yes,” he whispered, as if maintaining the peace they had surrounding them. “I don’t think I would survive if I ever stopped,” continuing, he looked back at her only to find her beginning a sketch.

But that didn’t stop her from confabulating further with him. They talked until the sun had begun setting and Y/n suggested it best that they parted ways and reached home before it got entirely dark. She’d mirrored Klaus’ sad expression before she’d leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek, which had him profusely blushing. 

“Meet me here again, if you decide that perhaps, I didn’t tire you so much of myself,” she’d laughed, allowing Klaus to pull her up from the ground and telling him that he should come if he wanted to see the sketch so badly, earning a laugh from him. 

Since that day, they’d met up several other times to share long walks and steal sweet kisses from eachother. They had officially been meeting up for a fortnight when they shared a bed, his skin on hers without any barrier as they relished in eachother’s warmth erotically enough to make them lose their breaths.

Their meetups had admittedly been growing more and more frequent until that night, and from then on, they found themselves meeting everyday, doing everything and nothing away from all prying eyes. 

But the prying eyes were slowly turning into suspicious gazes as the news about Vampires spread in the town and Klaus was growing more and more tense that they were going to take Y/n away from him and stake her, bringing anxiety into their relationship but she always managed to make him forget about his worries every time he met with her, which now happened after longer time periods because of the dark fate looming over them like dark clouds. 

Long gone were the days spent down by the river, hidden in long grass or camouflaged among wildflowers. Now they met up under the blindness of the night sky, moonlight directing to them their paths to each other and Klaus would end up sobbing in her neck almost every single time while she mumbled sweet nothings into his ear, telling him that she’d forever stay with him in the sketchbooks he had filled up to the brims with her portraits.

On their last night together, she’d told him that she’d always be watching over him from the same dark sky that they were laying under and usher to him her stories through the winds. She’d kissed on every inch of his body, every muscle that flexed under her touch and every spot on his face, letting him kiss her lips until neither of them could breath and their mouths hurt. Until she’d come undone under him and he’d fallen on top of her with the faintest tears brimming on the rims of his eyes. 

“I love you, Niklaus Mikaelson. I always have, and I always will,” she whispered and pressed her mouth against his to punctuate her promise. She couldn’t understand why she was so hurt – this was just an affair, something that couldn’t last forever because she was a vampire and her lover was a human.

She should’ve seen their paths diverging a long time ago, and yet, another tear slipped past her eyes and into her ear.

“Always and forever?” Klaus questioned her, his tears mixing with hers as he rested his forehead on hers. And when she nodded with the saddest and littlest smile on her mouth, Klaus knew it was time to go.

Y/n had stayed there a little longer,  reminiscing over her life before she sped out of town under everyone’s sniffing noses. 

But on his walk home, Kaus had walked into an alley where the men with lit pitchforks lighting their sight had put their suspecting gazes on him, believing that he was one of the Vampires making one of them shoot him out of the sheer freight that Klaus might’ve drained them of blood if he didn’t act fast enough.

And when the news reached Y/n, she heard her dead heart shatter into so many pieces that she just decided to let them lay instead of picking them up piece by piece to put together an ugly heart that had its love taken from it. 

[periludic]

" Distraction "

Qiu and Tamarack partners with the MC for a school project, they didn't get much done (It was the MCs fault)

📌 Pairing: Step 1 Qiu/Tamarack x GN!MC (Separate)

📌 Basically just Qiu and Tama admiring the MC

📌 OLNF brain rot, I'm making an AO3 fic of this next. (Thank you to whoever commented on my last post for this suggestion)

Qiu "Autumn" Lin:

Lets be real this kid needs a lot of help with school stuff, he'd probably be decently good in school if he tried but he doesn't

And to be extra real, he picks you every time to be his partner (he doesn't have a favorite he swears)

Mrs. Murray wouldn't allow that though, "give chance to others" she says. She deals with a lot of kids complaining that "Qiu always chooses (Name)!! Thats unfair" (god bless this woman) and Qiu frowns the saddest frown whenever this happens

But whenever Mrs. Murray does allow it, you bet that Qiu has the silliest, brightest, blinding smile ever stuck on his face

He likes you a normal amount (He lies to himself)

I don't think he'd be too serious about the project, but he does contribute and help you whenever he can

He doesn't pay much attention to it either, he's just happy to be there with you

But can you really blame him for spacing out mid-conversation when you tuck your hair prettily over your ear and how you look absolutely stunning when you're focused or when you have the cutest reaction ever at getting an answer right?

No. No you cant.

He pays more attention to you than your actual project, its cute but come on.

If you ask him why he's staring, he'll probably laugh it off and scold himself, thinking it was impolite of him to do so

But he's not afraid to admit the reason to why he was staring at you!

Its common sense, you're just too pretty. He can't help himself.

If you do start stressing out over the project however, he'll offer to do the rest for you

"I'll be more than happy to!!" he says, and you know. You just know that theres nothing inside that air head of his

It might take him a moment or two or three to understand the question but its worth it

He will do anything as long as its with you

Tamarack Baumann

No Mrs. Murray, she refuses to do the project if her very best friend isnt her partner

Tamarack would absolutely riot if Mrs. Murray got in the way of you being her partner for a project

She will be using her best puppy dog eyes and pleading voice thank you very much

Its against the law to object Tamarack, Mrs. Murray should've known better

Unlike a certain someone, Tamarack actually pays attention in class, and is good at memorizing without taking notes!

And unlike a certain someone, she's not as nice when it comes to not being your partner

Mrs. Murray allows it most of the time though, since you and Tamarack are new to the town and is still adjusting.

Most of the time.

Tamarack is very biased when it comes to you and everyone knows it (she has said so herself, in front of the entire class)

With Tamarack as your partner, you can rest easy!

She remembers your lessons well, and understands the questions fairly quickly

But sometimes she just can't help but to admire you. How can she not?

She's convinced that you came straight from a fairytale book, you're just so charming and adorable it's almost unfair!

Call her out on her behavior and she'll be more confused than a very confused person

Like. Yeah?? She's admiring you?? So what?? Its the logical thing to do? Its not her fault you're gorgeous?? Duh??

She'll give you a million reasons why you're so eye catching if you're not convinced

Please stop her.

I'm serious.

She'll go on and on for hours.

--

📌 sorry if my english grammar is off <3 english is not my first language

[qyxzun]

🕸️┆𝕻𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄.

╰┈➤ ❝𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘𝐘𝐘𝐘 𝐋𝐄𝐓'𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, my name is Y/N L/N. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, and for about two years, I've been the one and only spider woman. I'm pretty sure you know the rest.

Been fighting other bad guys, helping cats off trees, saving plains from crashing into buildings, you know—the basics.

I lost my best friends when I realized one of them was my nemesis.

but that didn't stop me from fighting for the better!

I just wish I wasn't alone. What if there was another universe where someone understood me?

whatever, probably just my imagination.❞

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝟗𝟐𝟔-𝐙, there was you, sleeping in bed so peacefully before your loud blaring alarm on your phone started to ring for the fifth time. You groaned when the sound disrupted your sleep before you finally picked up your phone to check what time it was. your eyes completely widened. You were late for school.

"Shit!" you cursed, pushing yourself off the bed and running to the bathroom to take the quickest bath you could. Taking off your clothes, dosing yourself with the shower's water, and quickly soaping up your entire body. As quickly as you entered, you almost tripped, going out of the shower with a towel wrapped around your soaked body. You ran back to your room, sloppily but quickly putting on your Brooklyn Visions Academy uniform. You still think that school is elitist, but you can't complain for now.

With no time to spare other than lacing up your shoes and taking your unzipped bag, you ran out of your dorm, forgetting to lock the door. You started to quickly jog your way to the school with your bag slung in front of you in an attempt to zip it closed with your papers and work securely inside. Traffic was booming like crazy, which made you groan impatiently. "My luck should really not be affecting my school," you grumbled.

The light finally turned red, letting pedestrians pass. You pushed past multiple people, apologizing when you ran through them as you continued to sprint to the school's entrance. When you finally stepped inside the school, you ran to your locker, put your bag and stuff away, and sprinted so fast to your class before the bell could ring. You arrived just in time, holding your textbooks by the door while a bead of sweat ran down your neck.

You panted, out of breath from running the entire morning, while your professor looked at you, unimpressed that you were late for how many times?

"Tardy again, Y/N. Keep up if you want to pass this year." She said, obviously hinting that you were someone who didn't care about education. Rude.

You nervously walked to your seat with your heavy books in hand while your classmates watched you sit down. Your professor passed by and gave you multiple papers stapled together as your exam. You skimmed through it, and the questions were almost a big blur for you when you saw how hard you should've studied instead of fighting other criminals on a daily basis. You held your mechanical pencil tight, wondering what to write while your other classmates were all silent and focused on the exams, unlike you, who had no idea. You wrote down what you knew, but you still felt anxious. You really didn't want to fail this exam; it could be your last before you would have to move to another school. You liked that option, but your parents worked too hard, climbing the ranks so you could have an easier life once you passed your exams. Since when was life decided by a piece of paper?

Minutes into the exam, suddenly, you heard a loud explosion near the back of your school. It was muffled through the thick walls, yet it was obvious something dangerous had happened. Your spider senses tingled, and you lifted your head abruptly while your class looked around, wondering what that could be while the teacher noticed their confused and worried expressions.

"Everyone calm down! Form a line and carefully leave the school through the front," your professor ordered, yet most students had already started running out of the classroom, ignoring her orders.

You quickly ran out too, pushing past the rest of the students while you navigated back to your locker. You grabbed your bag from inside and forgot to close it, prioritizing the situation at hand as you went to the bathroom.

"Guess I have to do my job again," you sighed while you quickly locked the toilet stall. You opened your bag, your spider suit folded neatly and tucked between your other textbooks inside. You took off your uniform, changing into the tight spider suit swiftly. You made sure to keep your mask securely on; protecting your identity was the most important part of it.

Finally dressed for battle and your bag slung on your back, you climbed out through the restroom's window, flicking multiple webs out of your fingertips. They swiftly stuck to one of the school's large pillars, and they allowed you to swing away quickly. You swung from building to building easily, reaching the back of the school to see seven vehicles crash together, causing a fire to spread throughout the school's background. Multiple police cars and ambulances were parked nearby, with the paramedics taking as many victims as they could on stretchers and transporting them to the ambulance crew.

You saw many policemen trying to save the injured under the rubble and from the fire as well. You knew they could get in the way of your job, so you created a diversion. You shot a web inside the policeman's car, the sticky string immediately reaching and pressing on the accelerator as it slowly moved forward, catching their attention.

"Woah—woah, woah—hey!!" one of them hollered, trying to reach the advancing car alongside his other colleagues. It gave you enough time to reach the exploded area with your webs.

"This is a whole mess," you mumbled to yourself under your mask as you reached another building's wall. You quickly climbed higher and swiftly shot individual webbing from your fingertips, each web reaching pieces of heavy debris on top of the injured. You held and wrapped all five webs around your palm, pulling the rubble off of the victims with your bare hand as your webs carried them to the side.

The concerned police officers ran to the injured with paramedics, yet the fire persisted, causing another explosion near the colliding cars. You were thinking of a plan to somehow save all of these people while you internally grew more anxious.

"What the hell is causing these explosions?" You grunted, frustrated. You loathed seeing people get injured while you tried to think of something. You jumped from the high wall, plunging down as you shot webs toward the heavily injured near the fire. You pulled them close, carrying more than three people while their blood smeared on your spider suit.

You quickly rested their bodies near where the ambulances could see them before you swung back to the high roof of the building. Your spider senses suddenly tingled before you turned around. On the building's edge, you saw the villain behind it all.

"Who the hell is this guy?" You said, looking down to the edge, and saw a lizard... or a goblin? You didn't know. You shot webs once more in its direction, propelling yourself up before you landed a harsh kick in its face. It let out a loud grunt as saliva was knocked out of his mouth. You sent him flying to another building's wall before he collapsed on the ground.

You walked over to it cautiously, a foot on his chest as you stepped on it harder. You glared down at him, looking down at a vile creature who hurt your people. It coughed, its vision blurry before it looked up to you, it started chuckling with your foot on his scales. "We meet again Peter," it said, smirking.

"Who the hell is Peter?" You retorted, raising an eyebrow behind your mask while it looked at you as if you were playing with his head.

"Oh, don't lie now, Peter... I know all about—" The vile lizard was about to continue, but it was cut off when it saw your features more clearly. You had more of a feminine body. Your muscles weren't as built, but you were strong enough to consider its enemy, like Peter. You had bigger hips and smaller shoulders than a man. Not to mention the obvious, your suit wasn't one it recognized. Its expression turned from smug to confused. You weren't the Peter it knew.

With rage blinding its confusion, it growled and grabbed your ankle with its large clawed hand, pulling your foot off its chest as it caused you to almost lose balance.

"Who are you?" It glared, looking at you with disdain and anger. You, on the other hand, were confused about why it didn't know you when you were literally the spider-woman.

"I'm spider-woman? The hero?" You rhetorically responded before it sneered and tossed you to the side of the building. You reacted quickly as you shot webs at its face, blinding it and pulling on the webs before you could hit the wall with its heavy weight. You adroitly landed on the floor again.

"Okay, dude—that's not nice," you pout under your mask while it growled in frustration when your webs blinded its field of vision. The creature almost tore off its eyes, in an attempt to take the sticky web off its face while it bled. The oversized lizard was raging mad before it charged toward you at full speed. You were about to swing burning wreckage to its face with your webs before a sudden brightness appeared from above.

You both looked up in confusion before you suddenly saw a red web hastily tie your green rival into scarlet webbing. It came out of what seemed to be a bright light formed with hexagons while it glitched. You haven't seen anything like it, thinking it could be another threat. "Argh!!!" The creature thundered before you saw what seemed to be another spider-man go through the portal. He promptly punched the lizard's head, blood coming out of its mouth, before it crashed into another building's wall.

The mysterious man stood up once he apprehended the green goblin with his webs. He tied it with his webs effortlessly while you approached him, his head slightly turning to look at you.

"So, like, who are you?" You asked, putting a hand on your hip before he turned around to fully face you.

"Classified," He spoke with a low tone, keeping it short and cold. You hummed, thinking of who he could be.

"You Peter? That green, uh, creature was looking after Peter or something. I don't know," you shrugged while the man was still silent, like he was judging you secretly with that glare.

You cleared your throat, a bit uncomfortable that he wasn't responding to your question. "Well, anyway, gotta deal with the fire and stuff. Gotta go blue panther." You were about to walk to the fire, mostly to save more victims before he stepped in front of you.

"It's alright, kid. I'll take it from here." He responded, his tone still cold, while his hand was slightly raised, telling you to stand down. Your spider senses tingled after he said that. You looked up behind him as you saw the green goblin manage to escape his webbing and cause more havoc behind the tall, muscular spider-man. In a fit of rage, the creature threw a burning truck in your direction.

"Oh, shit—look out!" You yelled, shooting a web at the spider-man's chest before pulling him away from the landing truck. You quickly moved away as well, but suddenly hissed in pain and fell near the fire. You groaned when you saw your burned forearm and noticed that your spider-suit was covered in cinders after smelling something burning.

"Puta madre--!" the spider-man growled before claws started to grow out of his hands. With animalistic ferocity, he chased after the goblin, shooting a web on his way to get to him faster. His speed never slowed down as his legs ran faster and faster, almost like a car on a highway.

Meanwhile, you winced when you pushed yourself up before your senses started to go haywire again. You turned around and saw more people in the burning debris while firefighters arrived and started to put out the flames. You hastily followed the spider-man from before by crawling up on top of a very tall building. Your eyes quickly scanned the area, searching for him. You spotted the lizard causing more trouble as it climbed up the building in front of you. His claws dug into the wall, causing more debris to fall, almost hitting more pedestrians. The other spider-man turned his head around, watching as the debris started to rain down on the citizens. He was so conflicted; he was so close to catching the goblin, yet the civilians were in danger.

"Fuck!" The man cursed, shooting a web to catch the debris, yet he failed. He grunted, turning his attention back to his target. He continued to chase the green goblin. You, on the other hand, thought fast and jumped down while shooting multiple webs to make a gigantic spider web to catch all the falling debris. Your webbing was strong enough to carry the heavy rubble and the burning damage before it could hit the others. Once you were sure it was holding everything in place, you shot another web, swinging yourself to the injured, who couldn't move. You picked them up— two on your back and one in your arms. They were barely alive when you gently laid them down somewhere more safe.

Your head lifted when you heard a cry. "M-Mama! Please! Help!!" A child screamed while you put all the victims away near the policemen. You turned your head back, realizing one of them was still stuck in the fire. You didn't hesitate to run back, propelling yourself into the air to see where the kid could be. You then saw her crawling up into a ball, a toy in her arms, while she looked around with tears in her eyes, afraid of the fire. She coughed profusely, almost running out of oxygen, while tears prickled her eyes. Even with the burnt forearm, you quickly and nimbly landed in front of her, picking her up easily while she didn't know what was happening. Yet she held onto you tighter than her toy. You shot another web at a building, pulling the two of you up before swinging away to where it was safe.

When you slowly descended to the ground with the child hugging your neck tightly, you saw a weeping woman on the ground with multiple injuries. Your eyes softened, worried behind your mask. You looked back at the kid, noticing she looked like she could be her child. You approached her. "Ma'am," you called out to her, getting her attention before you put down the kid in front of her. She gasped and brought her into her arms, pulling her into a very tight hug while they both wept.

"Thank you," the woman whimpered before looking up at your masked face. "Thank you for saving all of us." She smiled while sobbing, looking around at the people you saved. Even though they were injured, you managed to save all of them. You nodded your head, smiling behind your mask as you flashed her a thumbs-up.

You heard a thump behind you, hinting that the tall spider-man was behind you before you turned around to see him holding the green lizard with his red webs. "Hey," you said, looking up to him. "Caught the lizard?" As you chuckled, you noticed that he still had that unfazed look on his face. It seemed like he was trying to put up a brave front in front of the crowd. After a brief pause, he cleared his throat before responding.

"Follow me," he ordered with a reserved tone as he shot a web and pulled himself up to a very tall skyscraper. You followed behind him, the wind blowing into your face before you landed gracefully on top of the skyscraper.

There, you saw him tap on something on his wrist before another portal opened, the same bright orange hexagons forming the strange entrance while they rotated slowly. Your eyes squinted from how bright it was, while he still had the same expression as before. He got ready to throw the lizard into the portal, while it struggled and squirmed under his tight webs. "This is not the last time you'll see me, Peter!" It yelled, glaring daggers at you and the tall spider-man, until he was thrown into the portal. It created a short blast before the portal returned to normal.

You were quiet for a bit, not knowing what to say. He then turned around to face you, the portal closing very slowly while he approached you. "I'm from another dimension," he admitted while you gasped dramatically, knowing the obvious.

"You are.?! Woahhhhh.." Your eyes were wide behind your mask. He glared at your sarcasm, crossing his arms as it showed his muscles behind the tight suit.

"Take this seriously, chiquilla," he monotonously replied before clearing his throat and looking away. There was a small pause before he spoke. "You showed great abilities when you saved all those people." As soon as you received the compliment, his eyes shifted back to you while yours lit up with joy. It felt like you were a kid again, basking in the glory of a teacher's praise for acing a test.

He didn't say anything else. He looked down at his hand and slowly formed a fist. You watched him, wondering what he'd be doing. You tilted your head to the side, trying to see what was in his palm when it slowly opened. After a few more moments, he opened his fist.

"A watch?" You looked confusedly before he tossed it to you; you easily caught it, observing it. "What the hell is this for?" You asked, looking back at him. You finally noticed that it was the same watch he had on his wrist.

"You'll feel more at home," he responded stoically. He took the watch and helped you put it on properly. "... and we can use the help," he said.

"Who's we?" You asked, bewildered, becoming more baffled than ever. You'll feel more at home, he said. What did that even mean? You took off your mask, getting a clearer view of him, as you had a concerned face. "Who even are you?" You replied like you were annoyed for not knowing the entire truth.

His mask slowly distorted into pixels as it showed his face. "Miguel O'hara." He simply responded, looking down at you with his intimidating, tired brown eyes. He then slowly turned around, walking to the portal that hadn't been closed yet. You watched him enter the bright hexagons before you watched him disappear in front of your eyes.

You gripped the watch tightly.

𝕾𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄.

[granddaughterogg]

You Let Me Complicate You - Part 2

This is a love story about Simon "Ghost" Riley and you, starting with a random hookup and later navigating your increasingly complex feelings and desires towards each other.

PART 1 HERE

PART 3 HERE

~~Reblogs are always Greatly Appreciated!~~

SUMMARY: Ghost and you engage in some more flirting at the goth club. When he decides to get you acquainted with his favourite brand of bourbon, things get increasingly Physical - and unhinged, but you like it.

Chapter 2 - The Taste That Burns

He watched you like a hawk while you smacked your lips together, focusing on the metallic taste and tuning out everything else – the blue light, the music and the noises from the crowd. 

Focusing on the liquor, mixed with the taste of his skin.

"So. It's different from Jack Daniels..." you concluded after a while.

"For fuck's sake", he snorted. "I'm not seventeen anymore, y'know. This is the good stuff."

You licked your lips, trying to come up with a more sophisticated review, but to no avail. Perhaps that slug you'd downed earlier was stronger than you thought. Or perhaps it was this stranger's fault. He made your thoughts disorganised and blurry. He made your breath rush.

"You'll have to do it again so that I can form an opinion about this venerable beverage", you announced, boldly looking him in the eye. It takes two to do this dance.

The man sighed slowly, shaking his head.

"Do I have to feed you like a baby bird? 'Cause I will do just that if you make me."

"Knock yourself out," you offered, feeling a pleasant rise of adrenaline in your veins.

Suddenly one of his large hands found its way under your chin, capturing it in a gentle but steady grip. His thumb rested on your jaw. A few centimetres lower and he'd hold you by your throat.

You didn't have time to contemplate this stunning prospect, for he pressed the glass to your lips and tilted it – again, with caution, but you weren't ready for him to actually do it. Golden liquid filled your mouth and flooded your throat, burning it with its smoky sweetness. A bouquet of amber and balsamic scents exploded in your nose. You choked and the booze dribbled down your chin.

"Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy", said this madman, still not letting go. „Look at all the mess you've made.” 

His tone was as even as ever if laced with faint amusement. He leaned over your ear, and added in a husky whisper:

"You should've swallowed. We will have to work on that."

Hair all over your body stood on end – the ones that weren't already standing, that is.

"You dick!" you growled, pulling yourself out of his grip and shaking your head like a dog. "You could have drowned me!"

"Don't ask for somethin' you don't want, gorgeous...”

That was a tender word, yet he fixed you with a stare as distant and indifferent as a celestial body. There was no way to bridge that kind of distance. Neither on foot or in a spaceship. Many women probably died from lack of oxygen while trying.

"...because you might as well just get it."

"All right, all right." You started looking around for tissues. "Fetch me a napkin, will you?"

"What for?" He reached out, quick as an attacking snake and slipped his hand around your waist, pulling you so close that you almost slid off your stool, and placing his other hand at your nape. You felt his fingers weave into your hair, still damp from the rain. His grip was as skilled as it was assertive. Impossible to argue with. 

You inhaled the air suffused with that citrusy-woody perfume of his, the smell of fireworks and his own masculine musky scent. You liked it. You wanted to dip your nose into it.

"You're gonna kiss me now?" you whispered.

He shook his head. The pale rictus of the Grim Reaper has denied you.

"Not yet."

"Fucking tease," you spat into the black, unfeeling mask.

His eyes widened. You didn't know whether it was anger or excitement at your insolence. Either way, you quickly regretted your outburst, for he brought his face so close that you felt the rough cotton of his balaclava on your cheek. 

"You have quite a temper, love. Not gonna lie...this sort of feisty disposition is my favourite."

He whispered that right into your ear, enveloping you in the aroma of exquisite whisky. And there was that deadpan again. It drove you mad as much as the word "love" with its implied tenderness. You knew quite well that Brits call all women that - including those who they don't find fuckable in the slightest. When uttered by this Mancunian, „love” could mean anything or nothing.

His grip around your waist didn't loosen. He drew a circle around the small of your back, shooting electricity up your spine. Then he let go and pulled his mask upwards in a quick motion. You thought he'd get rid of it completely, but all he exposed was his pale chin and the very tip of his nose.

"I was about to ask how you plan on drinking in this thing..." you murmured.

"Just like that." 

He noticed you gawking and said in a firm tone: 

"Eyes averted, sweetheart." 

And since all you did was raise both eyebrows, he added gruffly: 

"No peekin'."

"Say, what do you even wear this thing for?" You asked, turning your head away, but very much intending to peek.

He shrugged as if asked the most inane question ever.

"To hide me face."

You glanced intently as he took a generous swig of his bourbon and threw his head back with a satisfied exhale. You've been expecting your typical Brit lip, as narrow as the slit in a mailbox. But his mouth was wide and quite shapely, with a sharp, pronounced Cupid's bow. It looked sensual yet ruthless. You could imagine a man with a mouth like that uttering a truly murderous putdown, unlike those playful jabs which he'd directed at you so far. If he wanted to, he could deal real damage. He could make people crumble, their self-esteem terminated on the spot. Or maybe it was just your inebriated imagination talking.

"What did I tell you about peekin'?", he grunted. Did he really expect you to obey this weird order...request...whatever it was?

"You knew that I will anyway", you said defiantly.

When he smirked, the corners of his mouth didn't go up like they were supposed to. They just stretched in both directions, creating a flat line. Interesting, you thought.

It was not a kind smile.

Before you could react, dodge out of his way, say anything – that bastard held at your face and licked the remnants of liquor right off your chin.

His tongue was searing hot and a little coarse, but not unpleasant.

This unexpected intimacy took your breath away and threw you off balance.

You stilled as if turned into stone, but with a hurricane howling inside your head, thoughts going circular at 200 miles per hour. That wetness on your chin burned like an executioner's mark, teasing and tickling at the same time. Deep within you blossomed a dark flame of excitement, licking your insides. Your starved body has been a stack of dynamite, and he just threw a lighted match.

He let you go and sat straight, looking awfully pleased with himself now that he'd put you in your place. Now that he has messed with you.

He's an animal all right, you thought. A beast that enjoys toying with its prey. An apex predator.

"As I was saying", he drawled, his mouth still curled up in dry amusement, his eyes boring into yours, keen and provocative, „This is the good stuff. I'd hate to see it go to waste.”

You remained silent, trying to reach within yourself, to quench that eager softness, blooming deep within your body. To find the familiar blade of cold, focused anger. You could've pushed his hand away, raise your voice and destroy this fucker. Tranquil fury has been your side weapon for so long. You could wield this power in your sleep.

Except that now it wasn't there.

How much of your inner confusion this kinky showoff even understood? Very much or very little - you would never know. His eyes glimmered in the dark, betraying nothing. He raised his glass.

You didn't have any better ideas, so you raised yours as well.

„Hey. Here's to fateful encounters”, he said.

"You say this to every poor gullible girl you've ever met in this shithole.”

His eyes flashed with amusement. 

"That I do, yeah", he admitted without an ounce of shame, taking a sip of the golden liquid and giving out a small, satisfied sigh.

"Does it work?" you asked.

"Without fail. They burst into a fit of happy giggles."

"Tough luck, handsome. I don't do stupid noises", you declared, measuring him with a disapproving glance. You might've as well tried to melt the glacier with a lighter.

"Looking forward to the noises that you make."

To that, you couldn't help but laugh. You rested your head on your palm. That absolute nerve of his was disarming. 

The giant guy took another sip from his glass, not breaking eye contact. You realised you don't even know if he's blond or dark-haired or something else entirely. His hair was hidden under that damn mask, and his eyebrows invisible in the murky light.

"Do you like your drink?" he inquired, leaning his long, muscular forearm against the concrete counter. You couldn't resist the temptation to watch the muscles ripple under the black cotton. The guy was covered up to his very neck. I wonder if he has any scars? 

You took another slow sip, tasting thoughtfully. Your palate was on fire from the artfully blended notes of caramel, orange, cinnamon and a few more flavours you hadn't previously associated with alcohol. More like with a patisserie.

"It's good!" you exclaimed, pleasantly surprised. "What's it called?"

"Blanton's. It's my favourite. Tastes like Christmas, innit?"

"It does..." you admitted, relishing another sip.

"Not like the real Christmas though. Like the one they show on the telly", he mused.

"So generous of you to share your favourite flavours with a stranger.”

"Yeah, I'm Mr. Selfless, me." The corners of his eyes squinted in a smile. It was kinder than that rictus he had on his face while disregarding your bodily integrity earlier.

You were both quiet for a while, sipping the golden liquid in agreeable silence. Liquor coursed merrily through your veins, whispering that everything would be all right. Music swelled. Deafening bassline and metallic notes enveloped you like tentacles of smoke. You began to jerk your leg to the rhythm.

"Say", said the big guy, staring straight ahead. "Why don't blind guys skydive?"

You seriously pondered over the answer.

"Because their dogs would totally freak out?”

And then he laughed - it was a genuine guffaw, deep and rumbly. It made your skin prickle but in a good way. He threw his head backwards, showing you the curve of his wide neck. It was covered with soft black cotton of the mask, but you still noticed the outline of his Adam's apple.

"Well, fuck me sideways!” he chuckled.

"This could be arranged", you heard coming from your own lips. Was this the expensive (and you could tell that it was stupid expensive) whisky talking? Or just your own shameless yearning for this man? For his steady voice, his knowing touch, his admirable lack of fucks given and his large body, intriguingly shrouded by those drab clothes? A body which you'd love to know in great detail? 

Your own upper body was already leaning flirtatiously against the counter, drawing meaningless circles on the concrete with your free hand.

 "A woman after my own heart," he murmured, setting down his empty glass.

The bastard knew exactly what was going on with you, That stare of his mellowed, lids lowered in satisfaction. He was clearly a master at this game for two. Hell, he might've invented it.

Your whole being vibrated from desire and anticipation.

He pulled that cursed mask right over his face. Before you had time to realise it - you were looking at the wide, empty grin of the skeleton again. But now the man underneath it was also smiling.

His body language softened, too. It was as if he had shed an invisible armour. He turned towards you, one big hand resting on his thigh, clad in blue denim - the least gothic choice ever. He placed the other one right next to yours on the grey concrete counter. 

You watched as he captured your thumb between his own thumb and forefinger, stroking your skin. His digits were rough to the touch. Then again, you've never seen a man with such pale hands. Did this guy ever come out during daylight?

"I'm down for that”, he murmured, sidling up close. So close that he obscured the light, once again enveloping you in his unique blend of scents. You liked how he smelled, even if the most lucid areas of your brain were screaming that you should really pay attention to that firework note. It was important...for some reason.

„I'm down...But there's no need to rush, don't ya think? The night's still young and so are we."

He gave you the usual sweet talk, but those tired lines sounded compelling when uttered in his deep, guttural voice. You found it more and more difficult to keep your head on.

"Sure thing, stud," you said, smiling alluringly. You were giving him the eyes now, the low lidded come-hither look and it wasn't at all calculated. The wave has risen. He knew and you knew how this night would end. You both drifted in that knowledge, as sweet and intoxicating as the whiskey.

"Speaking of young. How old are you exactly?" you asked.

"Half past thirty, give or take."

"Ah." There was a small silence, and then you added, inebriated by his masculine scent and proximity: 

"Aren't you gonna ask me anything? My age? My name?"

He reached out and held at your chin. Amazing how gentle such a big guy with paws like shovels could be - if he wanted to.

"Do I need to know?"

"Well," you replied, a bit annoyed by this lack of interest, "I would like to know your name, at least. Or I'll just call you Skullface.”

You heard a muffled snort happening under the mask. His broad shoulders trembled with laughter.

"Skullface works fine for me. Look, love, how 'bout we go sit someplace cosier? Like away from those bloody lights?"

Said lights barely did their job, shrouding you both in a dim yellowish tint - but you got the idea. It would have been hard for you to get handsy on those damn stools. Not to mention the keen eye of the bartender, who passed you every now and then, dispensing various drinks to his customers.

"Yeah, let's", you agreed.

"Geoff, we'll take the bottle”, announced your companion. Once again you noticed this intriguing feat of his. He raised his gravelly voice just a notch, yet it cut through all the noise without effort. This man is used to speaking and to being obeyed, you thought.

And the frowning bartender must've been under his spell, too - for he materialized right before you, putting the requested bottle on the counter. There was a dainty brass figurine of a racehorse mounted on its cork.

"And water, please", you added.

"And water", the masked man repeated with a sigh. "For the lady."

He took both the booze and the flask of precious H20, assigned you the task of carrying both glasses, and the two of you wandered deeper into the dark bowels of the club.

He took point and you had nothing against it. First, you had the immense pleasure of watching him rise from the stool, and now your field of vision was mostly filled with his broad back. 

Holy fuck, he was a big one.

Not only tall - although the moment he stood up, you felt like a hobbit - but also broad in every sense of the word. Strapping, Herculean, thicc. His shoulder blades lived so far away from each other, they probably had to send letters. As he moved, his beefy arms swung away from the large torso. His waist was also wide, his ass pronounced and shapely, and his long legs as juicy as they come. It got increasingly more packed as you went, but Skullface would just plough through the crowd, parting it like Moses. Whoever didn't want to be stomped flat - scuttled the hell out of his way. Heads turned, and many mouths opened in awe.

You stepped comfortably in his wake, feeling like a tiny boat towed by an icebreaker. You knew that sooner or later you'd get him out of those jeans, and that thought was an impatient flame, licking at your synapses.

Finally, he reached a secluded corner just against the wall, but with a good view of the whole club and the dancefloor. There was a sofa upholstered in worn plush and a low table (lame - as you immediately find out by placing the glasses on it.) The music blared much louder than at the bar; you could feel the pulsating rhythm under your feet.

The masked one threw himself on the sofa with a grunt, head falling backwards and legs splayed in a perfect manspread. He poured himself another glass of bourbon and patted the space on his right.

"Come 'ere, love."

You complied, yet it somehow wasn't close enough, for he grabbed at your hip, pulling you closer. Not your thighs were pressing into each other, his fingers dug painfully into your flesh and you could hardly breathe.

„Hey. Are you dru- 

You weren't given the chance to finish this question, as the masked guy did four things almost at once. He pulled up the mask, emptied his glass, leaned over and kissed you, hard and messy.

You had to admit that he acted fast as lightning. You wouldn't have expected that from someone of such bulk. This thought - like all other thoughts – got banished to the back burner of your mind because your mouth suddenly lit up. Your throat was full of alcohol, burning you like fire. Somehow you swallowed this fiery wave (it sank into your stomach with the grace of a broken lift) and tried to free yourself, seized by understandable panic. You pressed both hands into his impressive pectoral muscles. Your fingers didn't even make a dent. You might've as well push a boulder.

You finally broke contact only because he allowed it.

"Are you drunk?!..." you gasped indignantly, pulling yourself away. Those damn eyes of his. So dark, so wide, unblinking.

"Yeah", he admitted, still not letting you go. "Get in my lap."

You straddled him, trying to prevent your stupidly short dress from riding all the way up and disclosing the colour of your panties. Results were mixed.

Now your bodies had way more contact than before; you put both hands on his wide shoulders, feeling the muscles of his thighs ripple under your own. His body burned you through the fabric. It felt like sitting atop a working oven.

"How many glasses did you have before we started talking?" You whispered, moving closer nonetheless. He was doing the same, tilting his masked head up so he could meet your gaze. Your bodies slowly converged, drawn together by one of the greatest force known in physics, namely: stupid drunk desire.

Skullface shrugged, and it was as if a mountain decided to rearrange itself.

"Don't know. Three? Four, maybe?.."

"You are off your tits", you stated with a resigned giggle. He lowered his head, meeting you halfway, his exposed, parted mouth tracing along your temple. His lips were still wet with liquor. You trembled.

"Gotta give it to you, big boy", you whispered into the soft fabric covering his neck. "It didn't even show."

"Never does." His voice was thicker than before. "Petal?"

Your head darted up at this old-fashioned term of endearment.

"Yeah?..."

"Kiss me."

You stilled, undecided whether you should remain in the arms of this inebriated madman or not.

Suddenly there was such yearning in his eyes. All the posturing, all those fuckboy strategies, practised to perfection - gone. All that remained was hunger, aching and hollow.

This desperation couldn't be about you, some woman he's just met at the bar. You felt as if tipping at some greater, darker mystery. One which you probably shouldn't drag into the limelight.

"Kiss me", he whispered hoarsely, looking at you from under heavy eyelids. "Please."

And kiss him you did. 

That was the last time when you had any illusions of control. 

His lips felt scorching hot. They were dry and chapped and tasted like alcohol, like tobacco smoke and like something essentially - him. It was a new flavour, as unique as human bodies are, and as heady as that whiskey that he's poured down your throat. Now you were both drunk and crazy.

His musky scent riding on the woodsy-citrusy notes filled your nostrils, while you could feel one of his large hands creep up the small of your back. The fingers of the other one were snaking their way through the hair at your nape. It was an ironclad hold. He locked you in so that you couldn't possibly slip away.

Not like you'd want to. 

He licked his way inside your mouth, claiming it with frantic abandon that made something feral twinge deep within you. It felt as if this hulking stranger's taste matched a blueprint buried deep within your DNA. As if every fibre of your being has lightened up in recognition, calling out: 

That's right. He's the one we want to fuck.

There was no finesse to what you two were doing; just clashing mouths and tongues entwining, as sloppy as they come. Sharing a moment of blind, uninhibited lust. You could hardly breathe under such onslaught of stimuli, yet you didn't let go, because it set your blood aflame. He didn't either.

At some point you rolled your hips and bit his lip, unable to contain yourself, and felt him buck under you. His hips met yours and you realized with a start how hard he had become inside those jeans. 

"Fuck, love. Too much", he chuckled breathlessly, pulling away – not very far, just so that you could both still breathe the same air, panting softly into each other's mouths. Your French twist has come partially undone, sleek tendrils of hair framing your face. He threaded his fingers through one of them. His eyelids were fluttering, those fathomless eyes now big and vulnerable and seeking yours.

"Don't do that. I can't..."

"Can't what, exactly?" You smirked impishly, pressed your whole ass to his swelling length and nipped at his lower lip once more. 

He slammed his eyes shut, exhaling furiously. Then he opened them again and shot you what you'd call a deathglare – if his chest wasn't heaving like a ship amidst a storm.

"Keep at it and I'm gonna raw you. Right. On this fuckin'. Couch", he hissed, his voice low, every word clearly enunciated, encased in grit and oh, so delicious. "In the middle of this fuckin' joint."

"They'll throw us both away", you giggled, hiding your hot face in the nook of his throat. "And the weather is shitty."

"Then stop biting me", he said, but didn't push you off his lap.

You stilled for a while after that. Distorted, metallic rhythms boomed all around you. The music felt like crusted blood on your tongue. 

You let him hold you in this unbreakable embrace, pressing your ear to his clavicles, still hidden from you by a layer of black cotton. His breathing slowed down and then went back to normal.

"You're pretty excitable for a guy in his mid-thirties", you quipped under your breath, splaying your fingers over the well-worn fabric of his hoodie. The pecs under it were delightfully wide and firm. You traced over a small, perky nipple. He sighed.

"I haven't touched a woman in two months", he said matter-of-factly.

"Huh?" You sat up, looking him straight in the face. "Where have you been, in the fucking desert?"

"Yeah." His eyes regained that closed-off expression from before. Once again you felt as if looking into a boundless cosmic void, and it was chilling.

"I'm sorry", you said, regretting that thoughtless jab. "It's really none of my business."

"It's not", he agreed. His stare didn't soften much, but he still wouldn't push you away.

A moment of silence passed between you. He reached to the rickety table and helped himself to another long swig of whiskey, while his other hand stayed entwined in the – increasingly loose – hair at your nape. His fingers moved absentmindedly, loosening it further. You didn't protest. It felt soothing. 

Suddenly the throbbing metallic rhytms which have surrounded you came to a halt. The dancing crowd has stopped as well; there were groans and even cries of protest. The DJ – a smallish, ratty-looking dude – didn't seem to care. He grabbed the mike and announced flatly:

"Ladies and gents, it's 10 P.M. Which means that it's time for some beloved classics. Enjoy the set."

"That sounded more like a fuck you than an invite", you giggled. But then the rhythmic crackle of automatic drums gushed from the speakers, followed by guitars, tuned in the most morose key possible. Your ears twitched at the familiar words of the song. The vocalist sounded like he was grappling with laryngitis.

In the heat of the night

In the heat of the day

When I close my eyes

When I look your way

When I meet the fear that lies inside

When I hear you say 

"Oh hell yeah. I love me some good old Sisters of Mercy! Come on, handsome," You asked, getting off his lap and leaning over him, grinning widely. "Dance with me!"

The patrons behind you adjusted to this change in music style. Some have already begun to sway like trees in the cemetery wind. Others were shifting from one leg to another, a little lost but determined not to miss out on the fun.

The masked one, however, did not share their commitment. The skull shook slowly from left to right.

"I don't dance, sweetheart."

"Oh, come oooon," you pleaded, placing both palms on his wide chest, trying to negotiate with those dark, implacable peepers. Were they actually black? Or something else entirely? The dim blue neon light didn't give you any answers.

"What's the worst thing that can happen? That you'll enjoy it?"

Andrew Eldritch was proclaiming melodic, mournful nonsense to the world, guitars were chiming and that damn man sat unmoving like an anchor. You knew there was no point in pulling him off the couch by force. Firstly, it wouldn't do any good. Secondly, your shoulders would pop out of their joints.

"I know what I don't enjoy." That was not a rebuff, more like an excuse.

He stroked your exposed forearm, then squeezed your hand in his strong grip. Those rough fingers of his were warm and pleasant to the touch.

"But you go dance."

"What?.." You weren't sure where this was going. And you sure as hell didn't like it.

"Have fun, love. I'll watch over you."

You stood up, smoothed up your dress (which has ridden obscenely high during your little makeout sesh) and sent him a salacious smile.

"You'll watch me dance?"

He stretched out on the sofa like a lord, spreading his arms on the backrest and balancing a glass of whisky in his fingers. He looked like the embodiment of dark debauchery. You really wanted to climb into his lap again, but you weren't a woman who easily went back on her word.

"I won't even blink," he assured you with this absolute certainty in his low voice. Chills ran down your spine.

"All right." You straightened your back, checked if that hairpin was still holding up (it was) and turned your back on him to say over your shoulder:

"Then watch me."

You sashayed to the dancefloor, swaying your hips extra hard. The goths were awfully accommodating - they let you into the fold.

You found yourself surrounded by a writhing mass of people, moving along with the hard-hitting rhythm. There were elated faces all around and arms flailing in the dark, punctured by rays of dim blue light. It took away all semblance of reality, making all those faces disembodied. You felt as if immersed in a neon aquarium. Encased in your very own vision, a music video for one.

For he kept his word. He was truly watching.

You undulated under the blue reflectors, making sure that your dance moves were giving more "ethereal seductress" than "a teenager on crack" which was your default. But after some time you lost yourself in the music and stopped caring so much about how you look. Your body was doing its thing, gracefully coiling into figures you'd never be able to recreate on purpose, and your mind focused entirely on him.

Even when you closed your eyes, you could feel his stare, as inscrutable as it was unwavering. There was some gravitational pull to this man , as if he'd been highlighted by a black aura. The opposite of a limelight.

After "Dominion" they played a Marilyn Manson song (apparently the term "classics" was being applied very broadly), then "Dragula" by Rob Zombie - and suddenly it got way, way more crowded. A breathless, happy crowd began to push against you from all sides.

You swayed your arms, shook your hips and stomped your feet like nobody's business, trying your best not to thwack anyone in the kisser. Some nondescript dude sauntered close to you and started dancing obnoxiously near. Probably thought that he was being seductive. You ignored his ass, but he stuck to you like dandruff.

The fray got so thick that you lost sight of Skullface. Dancers blocked your view.

The stranger leaned in closer still. His hair was so long that it hit you in the face, and his eyes had this glassy expression which gave you chills. Drunk? Drugged and off his rocker? You didn't want any of it and tried to manoeuvre as close to the edge of the fray as possible. Then this fucker put his hand on your ass. You jumped, trying to shake it off - to no avail.

Hot, sticky words fell from his mouth, but to you, those were just sounds without a meaning. "Dragula" sleekly transitioned into "This Corrosion” and the patrons screeched in uniformed delight. The dancefloor had been packed before, but now you felt as if trying to do dance moves on your morning commute. A mass of sweaty bodies pressed onto you from every angle, and that long-haired creep kept pawing at your rear, face contorted into an empty, maniacal grin. Where the fuck was Skullface when you needed him? You've had just enough of this nonsense.

You stopped dead in the middle of the song, turned around with such momentum that the surprised assailant let go of your ass - and delivered a sweeping kick to his shin.

OK, maybe it was supposed to be sweeping. Truth be told, you didn't have much space for fancy martial arts. But thanks to your trusted combat boots it probably hurt.

The creepo staggered backwards and seized you with a furious look.

"You dirty slut!" he squealed.

You didn't wait to hear what the scorned suitor had to say next. You pushed past the crowd and ran off the dancefloor, staggering and panting heavily.

The sofa against the wall was empty.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Where did loverboy go?

Seriously. Where did he go?

--to be continued--

[myhaikyuuacademia]

Mirror | Astarion x reader

Summary: You tell Astarion what you see when you look at him Warnings: toothrotting fluff, timeline is nawwwt accurate from what I know I just mashed stuff together A/N: I haven't played bg3 or even seen a playthrough but I'm absolutely obsessed with him fhdsashddjjks this was supposed to be based on a scenario I thought about but by the time I started writing I’d already forgotten like, all the dialogue so yeah…

Astarion hasn't seen himself for 200 years. The day he turned, he lost all sense of self, and even now, it was difficult to regain some of it, when he didn't even know what he looked like. It frustrated him, to a degree he would never openly admit. He was looking into an empty mirror again, a routine that he had gotten tired of long ago. When he heard you coming his way, he turned around and put on his carefully crafted mask of charm and flirtation. With open arms and flair he greeted you, "y/n! What can I do for you?". With furrowed eyebrows, you stopped in the doorway. Something was wrong, you couldn't quite put your finger on it but there was something that caught you off-guard. "Nothing, Team meeting in 15." You told him, ready to let it go and turn back around. He was Astarion, sometimes he was just weird. But for some reason, this time, you couldn't. "What's up with you?" You didn't mean to sound accusing, but it was almost as if you were pointing your finger at him. "With me?" He raised his eyebrows in fake innocence. "Nothing." At that you squinted your eyes and, unconsciously scraped your teeth across your lips. Completely focused you took some more steps towards him, into his room. "Something is." You said with certainty. He rolled his eyes playfully dramatic. "I was just looking at myself in the mirror" His voice was lighthearted, almost as if he was joking around, and his face showed no signs of the discomfort the emptiness had brought him just minutes earlier. "But you can't see yourself in the mirror." You pointed out, eyes darting to the mirror behind him and the absence of his reflection, only seeing your eyes staring back at you, when they should've been blocked by his shoulders. "That's the problem, darling."

He sighed, his voice carrying a heaviness this time around. You pushed away the fluttery feeling in your stomach that you always got when he called you by one of his many, many pet names, and walked even closer towards him. "You want to see yourself." The shift in your face and your voice was immediate, a rarely seen softness taking place. "I do." He said arrogantly, desperate to put the crumbling walls back up in place. "Not vain at all huh." Soft smile on your lips as you joked. He sounded so sure of himself when he said, "Oh Darling, you know I'm gorgeous." . Rolling your eyes playfully, a soft chuckle escaping your lips, before turning somewhat serious. "Yeah. But do you?" He just looked down at you, face hardened. You opened your mouth, but ended up closing it again. The second time around you were braver, and lifting your hand you asked softly. "May I?" Hand hovering next to his face now. Furrowing his brows he nodded and you placed your hand on his cheek, your other hand swiftly joining on the other side. He tensed for a second, before forcing himself to relax. Your eyes dropped down to where your hands were now, thumbs softly following the lines etched into his skin, perhaps from years of forced smiles. "You have lines here," you whispered, smiling to yourself. "I like them a lot." Truthfully, you could've spent hours just tracing them, but you forced yourself to go on, moving one of your thumbs to glide down his nose. "A strong, straight nose." You skipped his mouth, leaving it for later, and instead went straight to his ears, cupping the sides of his head with your hands. Tilting your head and playing with the curls framing his ears. "Elven ears, surrounded by grey and white curls." You made sure to trace his ears in their entirety, so he could feel their exact shape through your touch. "Your hair always falls just right, it's kind of annoying." You joked, exhaling through your nose amused. Your fingers were weaving through his hair now, slowly untangling small knots you found along the way. Your eyes were still following your hands. Reaching the top of his head, you tugged his hair back a bit before letting your hands travel down to his forehead, and then the small space between his brows. "You always furrow your brows." Your thumb rubbed over the crease, making him ease up. You didn't notice, but Astarion did, how your eyebrows furrowed the same way his did when your thumb moved across the skin between his eyebrows. A satisfied smile spread across your face as he unfurrowed his brows, and your fingers glid over his eyebrows next. "They're the same color as your hair, and I'd say maybe almost as thick too." Your hands came to rest on the side of his head again, slightly higher than before when you'd traced his ears. And for the first time in a while you looked him in the eyes again. "Your eyes are red. And they never reveal what it is you truly think." He snorted and rolled his eyes. "Just tell me I'm the most darling man you've ever seen and move on." But his voice faltered and it lacked the bite it normally did when he flirted with someone. Your hands slid down to cup his jaw, but your eyes were still trained on his. "You are. No one else compares. You're incomparable, Astarion. But I'm not done yet." Your eyes fell down to his lips, thumb brushing against them, and into where his fangs were. "They're so soft, I love when your lips are on my neck." It was almost as if you were mumbling it to yourself, but he heard you well enough. His hands flew up to grab your arms, holding them in place. You looked up at him. “What?“ You breathed out. “You‘re ruining all my plans, sweetheart.” He growled in a low voice, dropping his forehead against yours and closing his eyes. Your thumb was still on his lip, his fingers still digging into your skin where he was holding your arms.

For a second you both just stood there like this, savoring the moment, before he spoke up again, as he moved back. “It was easy enough. Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me.” It seemed to pain him, saying these words. “200 years of instincts and habit kicked in. All you had to do..” he paused for a second. “was fall for it.” Looking at him, you waited for him to go on. If you were honest, you’d suspected as much, but it didn’t feel like the right moment to say it. He took a deep breath. “And all *I* had to do… was not fall for you.” He continued, “which you have made quite impossible, darling.” A second passed. “It's as if the gods made you only to ruin me.” Dumbstruck you stared at him, and it took you a few seconds to find your voice. “Astarion…” you simply managed to whisper. “You deserve something… real. I want us to be something real.” His voice made your heart hurt, never had he spoken to you in such a soft and broken tone. “I want that too.” You removed his hands from your arms and held them in yours and in an attempt to lighten the mood you said: “I totally knew about that, by the way. The manipulation part that is. Not that- not that you’d actually fallen for me… It couldn’t stop me from falling for it -- falling for *you* though.” You sighed. “Quite annoying actually.” You scrunched your nose jokingly. “Isn’t it?” Astarion confirmed, voice still ever so soft, same as his eyes, and his hands. Everything about him really, was in this moment, so incredibly soft. You hoped to remember this forever.

[lightarin]

Eggs Galore

Content: GN!Reader x Malleus Dracnoia; Fluff; Comedy; Relationship; Slightly jealous Malleus

"…My dear?"

Malleus watches from the doorway, stopped in his tracks by the sight before him. You were hurrying around the kitchen, humming quietly, as if everything were normal. Was it normal? Was this some human habit that he never knew about?

Why else… would there be so many eggs…?

"Oh! You're here! You can help me!"

You smile brightly, thrusting a basket of brightly colored plastic eggs into his hands before gesturing towards the box of small candies and chocolates on the counters.

"Put those in here, will you?"

"In… here?"

"Yeah! Those open up. You just have to pull on either end a bit. They're technically connected but since they click into place it doesn't matter if the connection snaps."

He blinks, not fully understanding why exactly you had given him this task. Nonetheless, he sits down, dutifully following your directions. Amusement adorns his features as he pops open one of the eggs, placing a few of the candies inside before closing it and setting it aside.

Humans truly were so creative.

"If I may ask… What exactly are you planning to do with all these eggs?"

"Well in my world, there's a time of year where people celebrate spring with stuff like egg hunts and all. And…"

You let out a quiet laugh, slightly exasperated as you dip another hard boiled egg into a bowl of warm water and food coloring.

"A few students upset Deuce again by shattering some eggs, so I promised him a nice surprise if he managed to calm down. I figured he'd enjoy this, seeing how he loves eggs so much. Especially since our celebration was about spring and new life and all that."

You were so absorbed in your own task that you don't notice the way his hands falter. His green gaze focuses on you, conflicting feelings swimming in his depths. On one hand, he loved learning more about you. On the other… you were doing all of this for someone else?

(For your part, you had merely tried to do what you could to avoid another fight breaking out in your presence).

His jaw clenches briefly, an attempt to calm himself as he returns to his task, listening to you talk on about what had happened, amusement gracing his features at the way you complained about the trouble you got dragged into. When he heard you speak of it like that, he knew that his concerns were silly ones. Happiness flit through him, moving him from his seat at the counter to hug you from behind.

"Hey! Don't surprise me like that, I almost dropped the egg."

Your voice was light, and the way you leaned back into his embrace told him you didn't truly mean the rebuke in your words. He lets out a chuckle, nuzzling the top of your head as he waves a hand, the green light of his magic finishing the work that should've taken hours in mere seconds.

"Now that it's all done… Will you grace me with your presence and attention as a reward for my assistance, my dear?"

You blush at the way he murmurs affectionately in your ear, his lips brushing against your cheek lovingly. He could be so sneaky sometimes. Not that you were complaining. You place your hands on his arms, looking up to meet his loving gaze.

"Well… when you ask so nicely, how could I say no?"

[armins-used-qtip]

It was no secret that Connie found you alluring. Even from the first time you met him, he let his eyes linger for longer than acceptable. Whenever you're with him you can feel his burning stare, especially on your body. He's a nice guy, although you don't know him very well since he's your boyfriend's friend not yours. Despite his attraction to you he would never act on it, he's a good friend after all.

You and your boyfriend, Eren, had a very closed off and intimate sex life. But he was a freak so you often found yourself doing... questionable things.

Being the hoarder you are, you had a small, white shoebox tucked under your bed. It was filled with mementos from your relationship. Ticket stubs, receipts, bracelet boxes, anything really.

Connie didn't know how he found himself in your room searching through your belongings like a pervert.

Earlier Connie had gotten a call from Eren

"Yo, Y/N sleeping at mine again. Could you do me a favour and go get her backpack from her dorm"

"Why do I have to get it. Why can't you or her?"

"She's in a lecture right now and I have to meet Armin in about.... 10 minutes. Please bro just this once??"

"....fine"

"Cheers bro, the keys under her rug."

There he was. Searching through your stuff, with no aim in mind. The backpack had already been found, so he should've left. But for some reason he felt like he'd be missing an opportunity if he left so quickly.

He slumped down against your bedframe, when he felt something poke him in the back. "Hmm... 'me and ren' what's this?"

He grabbed the white shoebox that was poking him. It was what he expected, just some cute memories and shit. Just as he was about to put the box back something glossy caught his eye. He wiggled his fingers further in the box to retrieve it. Nothing could've prepared him for what he saw. It was a small Polaroid. He couldn't tear his eyes from it, he was mortified but totally mesmerised.

You were positioned ass up on the very bed Connie was leaning on, completely naked. You had a gag in your mouth and your arms were tied. There was a pair of hands roughly  spreading you apart, Erens obviously.

Connie was so taken aback by this photo. He had completely stilled, too scared to even move a muscle. He never took you for someone to be into that sort of thing. The more he thought about it, the hotter he felt his body get.

This is wrong. I shouldn't be looking at this Connie consciousness began knawing at him. Yet he just couldn't put it down. His eyes focused on your pussy, it was being manhandled by Eren. He felt terrible but a small part of him wished he was the one behind the camera, not Eren. A dry gulp was all he could form as he felt his pants get tighter.

"Shit" A wave of realisation hit him and he put the Polaroid down. This was bad and he knew it. He stood up and looked around your room. "Just get the bag and leave" he muttered to himself. First he had to put that Polaroid back in its place. He kneeled down and took the Polaroid, facing it the other way, and put it back in the box. He then noticed there were more. He felt guilty but not guilty enough to stop. He grabbed the stack and looked through them. Each one was somehow better than the last. His favourite was the one where you were on the bathroom floor, with your fingers deep in yourself. Eren was nowhere to be seen, unlike the other ones that were all clearly taken by him. This one was a selfie, maybe you had taken it for Eren?

He did something dumb. He slipped it into his back pocket and put the rest away, tucking the box back under your bed. He was thinking with his very erect dick rather than his mind. He could barely walk because he was so painfully hard. All he wanted in that moment was your pretty lips wrapped around him. A loud groan left him at the thought of you on your knees for him. His mind was so fuzzy from the pure arousal, he had to sort his hard-on out.

He stumbled into your washroom. He was looking for them. The pink frilly underwear he caught a glimpse of yesterday when you were at Erens. A small part of him hoped he didn't find them because he had no idea what he was about to do to them, all he knew was that he needed them. The way this man was behaving anyone would think he was inebriated, but no the only thing he was drunk off was the thought of your body underneath his. He dug through your clothes basket. He found them. It wasn't purposeful, but a small laugh erupted from him. Was he this pathetic? Was he really about to wank off to his best friend's girlfriend?

He looked at the thong style underwear in his hand. There was a dark patch where your pussy would have been. The sight of this had him panting heavily. All his guilt was washed away the second he brought them up to his nose, taking in the smell of you. Any common sense he had was now gone and replaced with pure, primitive lust. He swore it was impossible to become harder than he was, yet he found himself growing evermore. It was painful, he was so, so hard. He felt like a helpless puppy in heat. He reached his hands into his sweats and pulled out his rock solid dick. There was precum dribbling down the side. With the pink panties in his nose he began pumping his hand up and down his cock. He hissed at the feeling, he felt more sensitive down there than usual. He brought the underwear away from his nose and uncrumpled it. His stare was directed at the dark patch, even the sight of it nearly made him cum. He brought it to his mouth and began to lick the spot. The grip he had on his dick got tighter and he began pumping faster. Quiet and broken whimpers left his mouth, muffled by the fabric of your panties. He savoured the salty taste as if it was a 5 star meal. The pressure in his stomach was building up and he threw his head back in response. This time he held the underwear's dark spot to his swollen tip. The panties stuck to him as he jerked off into them. This was nearly enough for him to come undone, his movements were becoming sloppier and lost their rhythm. He whimpered and moaned your name as the coil in his stomach snapped. The deepest and guttural moans left him as he emptied himself onto your pink panties. Hot cum spilled into his hands as he tried to control his breathing.

"Shit" he panicked at the sight of your ruined panties. Still in a state of stupidity he shoved the dirtied underwear in his coat pocket.

His mind was racing on his way to Erens dorm. How would he look you in the eyes? What if you noticed your pants and your Polaroid were gone? But it was too late to return them now.

Knock knock

"Eren bro are you in? I've got your girls bag" Connie was surprised to see you open the door.

"I'm not 'Erens girl' I have a name" you said bitterly and took the bag from his hands.

Just as you were about to shut the door you spoke out

"Oh and uh... I have a camera in my dorm room"

You watched in amusement as Connie's soul left his body. His pathetic stammers only made you laugh.

" don't worry I won't tell Eren, but I want my Polaroid back" you said putting your hand out. He reluctantly reached into his back pocket and put the Polaroid in your hand.

"Thanks Connie" you offered a sweet smile before you shut the door in his face. How cute.

Ok that's the end. I've never written smut before so um if it's bad deal with it?