#Scalding Jeweler

[pomefioredove]

Saw requests opened again! Can I have Scarabia headcanons for this scenario: so they invited their s/o back to the Scalding Sands for a festival and provides their lover with a special evening attire for a party or smth. The outfit itself is red and gold (typical Scarabia colors) but the s/o is from a culture where those are wedding colors (ex: China, Vietnam, India, Nepal, etc). Cue the reader teasingly asking them if this was their way of proposing. How do Jamil and Kalim react (separately) and how blushy do they get?

OH THIS IS SO CUTE! omggg

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ wedding colors

summary: a little misunderstanding type of post: headcanons characters: jamil, kalim additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

poor Jamil

in all the chaos of preparing for the festival, he forgot to ask you what colors you wanted

of course, he knows your favorites

but he wants this to be special

and now he only has a day left to arrange an outfit for you!

that's not enough time to customize something

so, he gets his mom's permission to borrow something of hers

she has the nicest clothes, and it'll be meaningful

he chooses something neutral (or so he thinks)

red and gold for the festival, right?

and you look stunning in it!

but he takes note of the strange smirk on your face as you ask where he got it

"It's my mother's nicest outfit," he says, a little too proud of himself

"Your mothers... and in these colors... is this your way of proposing?"

huh

???

Jamil knows he fucked up right away

only then, he remembers you mentioning the meaning of red in your culture, and...

it completely slipped his mind

he stammers out some half-assed explanation and then excuses himself to cool down in the hall

how embarrassing...

at least you just think it's funny

but, even he will admit, the following festival makes a great "wedding venue"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Kalim's family tailor wasn't enough

this is a special event, after all, and he wants everyone to know just how special you are

he hires the finest tailor in the land and tells him to make the "prettiest outfit anyone's ever seen"

...and nothing else

so, the tailor, with such little foresight, chooses the easiest colors

red for courage and life

gold for nobility and perfection

easy, right?

well...

Kalim thinks you look amazing, and he's so excited to introduce you to everyone that he doesn't let you get a word in

at the end of the festival, you joke that if it had been your family, everyone would be asking about the wedding

and he's like

:)?

so you explain the meaning of the colors

and his face just fills with dread

not at the premise of marrying you

but because this outfit isn't nearly good enough to propose to you in!!!

and once he starts, he won't stop

first of all, he would have gotten you the most beautiful clothes anyone has ever worn

he would have an entire parade of exotic animals and gold and jewels in your honor

and then a banquet

and then a scenic carpet ride

and then he'd propose. of course!

it's cute how worked up he gets over it, and how much he's already thought it out :)

[webism]

KINKTOBER DAY ELEVEN: wax play with sukuna

kinktober masterlist

what a fuckin dweeb he is. another short one i apologise

sukuna doesn't know how to be normal about wax play. you've taught him the ins-and-outs, shown him what body-safe candles to buy and how to drip them so each searing splatter against your skin feels more heavenly than the last, you even tested it out on him first—let him feel the melted wax against his chest and abs for a taste of what you'd be in store for.

but no, he insists on being weird about it. he will melt down ten candles and pool them together in a bowl so he's got a larger canvas to work with. and then he ties your naked body down to the bed, dips his entire hand into the wax and drags his burning palm down your body.

he will cup his hand under the wax, pool as much of it as he can into his palm and then lift your knee so he can watch hot wax run down your thigh. he always picks the candles with the red wax too, and you doubt his favoured colour is a coincidence—not with how crazy the sight of it against your skin drives him.

and sure, you can't think of much at all when his cock is buried so deep inside of you hat you're seeing stars. but sukuna will coat his hand in wax and bring it, still dripping, to the side of your face to direct your gaze to him. his red-coated thumb pushing at your lips—he'd force a few waxy fingers into your mouth if you'd let him. god he loves the sight.

sometimes he just gets you to do the same, to coat your smaller hand in wax and wipe over his body, his face, his cock. to be covered just as you are, both coated in what should be painful but is instead narcotic... it sends him thoughtless.

and so he, in turn, sends you thoughtless with his cock as he drips hot wax over your body. rubs it into your skin with heated hands and watches as it pools in the dips and shapely parts of your frame. makes you cum as he pours it over you, in hopes that you'll eventually link the scalding red with blinding pleasure.

but of course, because he has to make it weird, he will try and lick it off you after.

@medusamara5 @echodead @aliisinwonderland @curiositykilledthecatx3 @hirainne

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@xixflower

[thatnonameuser]

A Wonderland Of Yanderes

Twisted Wonderland AU - Inspired by @yandere-daydreams

Part 1 Part 2

Imagine…

A world where the behavior of Yanderes is completely acceptable, if not normal.

Where darlings are stalked, kidnapped, and kept by their Yanderes.

Where murder in the name of love can be pushed aside, as a simple accident.

Where it’s common for the Yanderes to learn about how to control their darlings as soon as they’re able.

Not all places in this Twisted Wonderland are equal though.

The Queendom of Roses and the Shaftlands are by far the best places to be if you’re a darling. Darling rights prevent Yandere’s from being horrifically abusive, locking them away from the outside world for good or using too harsh of punishments. Murder is a major no-no, and Yanderes can lose their darlings forever if they’ve committed such a heinous crime. Darlings can even be taken away for lesser crimes, placed in the care of the state far away from their abusive yanderes. 

But as we all know, people will find their ways to bend the rules. Manipulation and controlling techniques are common in these zones, often holding the darlings’ children over their heads, or bribing their way out of the law.

On the flipside, the Sunset Savannah and the Coral Sea are some of the worst places to be. While women are treated as equals, darlings are not. They’re considered the prey locked in the jaws of the predators. Whether they slip from the jaws is their own business. Darlings are free to run and hide, but nothing’s stopping their Yanderes from throwing them back over their shoulders back to their lives of captivity. Whether a darling’s punishment is fair or not, as long as they're not dead, Yandere’s do whatever they please. Murder is less bad of a crime here if done in a battle for a darling’s hand. 

The Sunset Savannah’s King’s own wife was a darling, and even she can’t get away from his ‘love’ and ‘affection’. Though she never complains, always by her husband’s or child’s side.

Though some Darlings are smart, running off to one of the nation’s that give them more freedoms. Still, if you can’t get them on your own, thanks to those stupid laws, there’s a whole list of Bounty Hunters willing to do it for you. They’re scary good, and your darling will be back before you know it.

The Scalding Sands rests safely in the middle of the spectrum. Darlings carry some rights and freedoms but that’s only in the most horrible of extremes. They’re treated as fragile, and it’s in everyone’s best interest to look after them. They’re traditionally spoiled with riches and wealth, but that’s just to cover up the bruises, both from pleasure and punishments.

Even with the few freedoms of the darlings, the sparkling sand of the desert can be so deceiving. A black market for darling recapture, whether taken legally or runaways. Hitmen who can hide corpses of rivals in the desert. 

The Isle of Lamentation is completely separate from the world, but it's full of Yandere’s all the same. So many of the staff are Yandere’s yet almost none have darlings. They’re practically voyeurs watching their darlings from afar, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The Shroud family’s current matriarch was darling from the outside world, and most of the people there are certain that even her living son hasn't seen her since last spring. 

The isolation from the world is perfect for hiding away darlings. And they’ll go crazy for any interaction and affection, like a Persphone locked in the Underworld.

If the Sunset Savannah is old-fashioned in its treatment of darlings, then the Briar Valley is practically ancient.   The darlings’ lives are completely controlled by their yanderes, kept under lock and key for the remainder of their lives. Darlings rarely leave their homes without their yanderes acting as escorts, with beautiful collars of jewels and precious stones marking them as darlings and the fine, equally ornate leashes in their yanderes’ hands as their ‘owners’. Darlings are considered so fragile, that the outside world is far too dangerous for them, that it’s safer where they’re kept by their yanderes. Murder in the name of a darling is practically excused, as long as it was in the name of protecting their dainty darlings.

On Sage Island the two rival schools are polar opposites.

Royal Sword Academy is honestly full of delusional yanderes, looking for a darling to be their princess to save, their perfect damsels in distress. All they want is to fall in love at first sight with the darling of their dreams. The one who they'll be enchanted with and will sing a love song that will move the hearts of millions with.

They excuse all concerning actions with a simple wave of the hand. They followed you home? They were just looking out for you. They’ve been stalking you? They just want to make sure you’re ok! You caught them over your bed, pink faced, while you were asleep? They probably where just checking to make sure they could wake you up with a kiss, you know the love stories~

Night Raven College is more honest. They know what they are and they’re not hiding it. Since NRC’s full of different students, the crimes that were once illegal in their hometowns, are completely fine here. As long as you don’t get caught. Then you might have detention while we figure out how to make it look like an accident. 

Classes about proper Darling care and how to get away with other crimes are mandatory for first years, but after that it becomes an elective. Potion Classes teach how to make the best love potions, tranquilisers and the deadliest of poisons that kill without a trace. Animal Language to communicate with the local fauna if your darling runs away into the woods, and you can’t find them. Phys Ed to carry your darling away whether they're unconscious or kicking and screaming with ease.

But what about you? What does that mean for poor, little you? Lost in a world you barely know anything about. And worst yet, you’re a darling. Try your best to get back home……

…..If they let you that is.

[tetsuskei]

notes: a repost of my fave fic for my fave freckled faced boy ♡

“stay still.”

you playfully pinch ace’s side before reaching back up to focus on what you are doing.

“ow,” he whines, feigning pain. he tilts his head back, looking up at you with a small pout and puppy eyes, “that hurt.”

you only laugh at his dramatics, grabbing his jaw before tilting his head back to level. “i said stay still. or you’ll end up with a ridiculous bob, dummy.”

the scissors in your hands carefully move through his black locks, snipping away dead ends and restoring health back into his hair.

“you wouldn’t dare.” he warns, glaring at you in the mirror.

a smirk crosses your face, “and maybe i would.”

this is routine for both of you, cutting ace’s hair. you try to keep up with it frequently (he has surprisingly fast growing hair). a lot of times he’d go however, not really caring about it and doing whatever (meaning nothing). but you’re always able to recognize when his locks are getting a little too shaggy.

it never really bothers you to do it. in a way, it’s small intimacy time for the both of you.

it’s a rare sight — ace without his hat on or necklace fresh after a bath as he sits—more so squirms—on a stool. his wavy locks are slightly damp from washing. you get to peak at his broad, tanned shoulders. they’re decorated with all kinds of freckles, like little jewels on his skin.

ace is thankful. never used to having someone care for him in this way. he feels pampered. his brown eyes are always large and filled with admiration when he watches you cut his hair, your face cute in concentration.

he’s never afraid or shy of any physical contact with you, but when you get close up to him, holding his face in your hand to trim his bangs just right, he feels a little skittish in his tummy. he’s already a naturally hot running person, so he feels he must be scalding when this happens.

this game you two play is cunning. you always pretend not to notice his staring, while he is vying for your attention, chasing after your glances when your eyes happen to meet a few times.

if there’s one thing about fire fist, he’s competitive. he won’t stop till he’s won.

“can i kiss you?” he blurts, gaze intense.

a shocked look appears on your face before you laugh, “what’s gotten into you?”

“you just…look so pretty when you’re concentrating…and i can’t help it. not any longer at least.” he admits sheepishly.

you feel heat in your cheeks but recover from his words, “tell you what, if you let me finish what i’m doing, i’ll let you kiss me.” you offer.

“i’m your boyfriend, why do i have to wait?” ace whines and complains, but you only poke his cheeks before smooshing them between your hand.

“listen you stubborn fool, i promise i’m almost done. i think you can manage till then.”

“fyne,” he grumbles, cheeks still puffed.

you resume your work, but it’s not long before his hands dance on your waist, fingers tracing your skin and marveling over the softness of it.

the snipping pauses, “ace, what are you doing?”

“you didn’t say i couldn’t touch you.” he argues, sniffing.

you don’t say anything and just shake your head. he’s lucky he’s really cute.

eventually you find yourself being near wrestled by the commander as he progressively pulls you into his grasp. you’re finishing up his bangs by this point. practically on his lap with a hand on his shoulder as you steady yourself.

ace is glad you don’t tease him for being a blushing mess. but at the same time he feels like he’s going to die. he’s going to implode if he doesn’t get your full attention in the next several seconds.

“…and done.” you say, snipping the last lock.

“finally.” he sighs, crushing you into his arms impossibly closer to him. you yelp when the scissors fall out of your hands.

“a-are you even going to look at my final work?” you huff, feeling him pepper kisses on your cheeks, chin, nose—anywhere he can reach. you can barely move.

“don’t need to. you did wonderful, babe.” he responds, chuckling.

admittedly you did do good. really good. he doesn’t look so boyish now. more grown up. mature. his hair is only a tad bit shorter but shows all his best features that were hidden away. the apples of his cheeks decorated by freckles, his sharp, defined jaw, and his brown eyes you love so much can all be seen with ease.

ace has always been pretty and you don’t know if he’s well aware of that. so you turn his face towards the bathroom mirror.

he protests once his lips miss your cheek, almost looking like a fish with the way they pucker. he doesn’t have a chance to ask anything when your next words stop him.

“look how beautiful you are, ace,” you say, beaming, “you look so handsome.”

the man turns from pink to absolutely beat red, not expecting your words so suddenly. he curses under his breath since he can’t hide behind his hat. “wha—why are you…?”

when his eyes meet yours in the mirror he sees the soft twinkle in your eyes that you give only him, no one else. like he’s put up the stars in the sky for you. like he’s built you an entire empire by hand.

he’s silent, knowing you’re not lying about your words.

“…thank you.” he finally says, burying his face in your neck. his voice is small with vulnerability that only you have seen and heard. there’s a thousand things he wants to say right now, but the words won’t come out.

“you don’t need to thank me for loving you.” you respond, bumping noses with him before finally kissing him on the lips.

and it’s times like these where he figures life is something he’s meant to be living.

[ddarker-dreams]

on your birthday, yan scaramouche acts strange.

he's been irritable, almost absentminded. not with you, per se, but any poor soul that's happened to be in your general vicinity. the fatui grunt who served you tea earned his sharp condemnation for 'obviously trying to scald you' because they were pouring it too fast by his standards. similar incidents in this vein occur throughout the day. this unease culminates when he hands you a box with a beautiful ribbon on top. he struggles to look you in the eye and holds his breath as you unravel the neatly done wrapping.

what lies inside is a miniature doll that perfectly replicates your features.

this little you has jewels for eyes and a soft, sweet smile. the outfit you're depicted in is one from before he took you away, which you never recall wearing around him, but you try not to dwell on that fact. everything from the texture of your hair to any distinguishing marks on your person is present.

he waits all of about three seconds to hastily throw in the comment that he just threw this together, and that if you don't care for it, you can throw it away. in truth, you don't know what you feel, as you cradle this vulnerable creation. flattered? disturbed? a little pity for its creator? perhaps this is an example of your soft heart that scaramouche insists led you straight into his hands.

his hands that, presently, have a few needle pinpricks from the countless hours he must've spent sewing this doll in your likeness.

so, you insist on keeping it, even if your thoughts are in disarray. for if there's anything you've learned from your time with scaramouche, it's that abandoning creations new to this world brings nothing but misfortune.

[cheesus-doodles]

Beyond the Glitter of Gold

Yandere Kalim

Masterlist

‎‎‎

i really couldn't think of a better title ;-; just a little idea that had been stuck in my head and i needed to get out

Kalim had never wanted for anything. 

How could he, when the Asim family that he was the heir to was one of the wealthiest in all of the Scalding Sands? Anything he had ever wanted had always just been an ask away from being within his grasp; there was no doubt that the world was his oyster when the gold and jewels and treasures lost in a single vault back home was worth more than entire cities. Yet -

"I was just over for dinner yesterday, I would hate to intrude ag-" You hadn't even completed your sentence before Kalim interjected.

"No, no, you wouldn't be a bother at all!" He laughed, propping his hands on his waist, cheery grin pulling his lips from ear to ear. "You have to come over for dinner tonight, Jamil is making your favorite baked sweets with pistachios and almonds today. Right, Jamil?"

Said dark-skinned boy simply nodded. "Certainly. You will always be welcomed at the Scarabia dorm."

Watching you bite your lip as you contemplated his now almost-daily request for you to come over and join him at his dorm, the usually carefree, jolly housewarden found himself mirroring the uncertain expression clear on your face as he held his breath, anxiously awaiting your response and praying that you didn’t catch the desperation in his tone. For the very first time, the Asim heir had found himself wanting - no, craving - for something money couldn't buy him, with his mood for the rest of his day hanging treacherously in the balance depending on your answer.

The shiny solid gold discs that hung from his accessories jingled in the light wind that swept down the open hallways, the gold that Kalim was always clad in glimmering lightly in the soft sunlight that reached in the inner corridor. Around the three of you, waves of students flowed past as if following the breeze, the light tapping of shoes across well-worn cobblestone floors, combined with chatter, rising into a lively background hubbub associated with school life. Curious gazes were tossed your way from time to time, though it was certainly more at Kalim and Jamil; after all, what could a housewarden and vice-housewarden possibly want with you, of all people? But they would get no answers from either boy or you, not with just their gazes, and so on they trotted to their various destinations, questions being pushed to the back of their mind.

"I probably shouldn’t." When you next spoke, your tone was almost apologetic, as if already gearing up to turn him down. "Trein assigned a lot of homework and it's due soon."

In an instant, the sunny look on the Asim heir’s face dropped, Kalim letting out a pathetic whimper like you had personally walked up and kicked him in the gut. Your words instantly trailed off, a dagger to his heart. “You really can’t come over?” All he wanted was to spend more time with you, was that so wrong? Money had never interested the white-haired boy, nor did he understand the motivation of the jealous and the spiteful who would go to any extent to lay their hands on his inheritance, but for once, for once he wished the glitters of gold worked its magic on you. “Not even just for dinner?”

No, you - the Ramshackle Dorm Prefect, somehow pulled into Night Raven College from another world - had an equal amount of interest in the glitters of gold as you had magical abilities. Which was to say, zero. Woe is him.

‎‎

‎‎

The undecidedness in your expression only grew as you glanced away uncomfortably from your friend’s heartbroken expression, yet seemingly frozen on the spot, unsure of what your next move should be. And it was the same thoughts that Jamil assumed you had, your face an open book that he didn’t find difficult to read in the slightest. But after the unfortunate series of events that he put Kalim through during the winter holidays, it was the least he could do to make it up to his master as a loyal servant of the Asim family. Helping to fulfill such a simple desire shouldn’t even be an afterthought for a personal attendant of Jamil’s caliber. 

“It would be a pity if you couldn’t attend dinner,” Jamil sighed dramatically, shaking his head as he rested one hand on his waist, sharp charcoal gray eyes subtly scanning your body language. “I suppose all my hard work making those desserts would have to go to waste.” 

As for you, well. The Scarabia vice-housewarden didn’t think you were so bad to have around.

You blinked, the mention of your favorite treat combined with the treacherous thought of throwing it away catching you off guard. “To waste?” You echoed, your firm, homework-centric tone wavering - and the black-haired boy knew he got you. “Why can’t someone else eat it?”

“I made enough for one extra person,” came his response, accompanied with a convincing grimace.

By now, the world around you was starting to quiet as the masses of students disappeared round corners, leaving behind the three of you and a silence that only seemed to grow louder as the seconds ticked by while you contemplated your dilemma, your gaze occasionally glancing towards the stairwell that headed up to the library and then back at the clock that hung on the nearby wall. Lunch break was about over for the day, and while you didn’t have another class to attend, they certainly did, and time was running out. Still, no matter how much Jamil hated tardiness, this was a rather important matter to settle for Kalim. 

Gray eyes slid over to his downtrodden master, who was now busy muttering inaudibly to himself, sandalled feet kicking at the ground. You were a vastly more capable and tolerable companion to have than Kalim, a sight for sore eyes in fact, no matter how much he hated having to admit it. A pleasant conversation, being able to help in the kitchen without starting the next disaster, hot meals back from your home world that he would never dream of cooking; you were like the older sibling Jamil never had. Nothing more than that of course. After all, it would be improper, given how you were already the apple of Kalim’s eye.

Yet for once, it was surprisingly Kalim that made the next move, his hand shooting out grab yours before his thoughts had fully passed through his brain, startling both you and Jamil. "We can do it together!" The white-haired boy blurted out, free hand tugging at the sleeve of your school uniform pitifully, his gold jewelry catching a stray ray of sunlight and reflecting it onto the stone wall behind. “Trein’s homework, I mean. I always have difficulty with it anyway.”

A pause, then Kalim continued. "You'll help me with it?"

“And you could have dinner as well so we don’t have to throw away desserts,” Jamil finished, a grin quirking at his lips. 

It was the straw that broke the camel's back, and you caved to the temptation of a sweet treat and the pressure of Kalim's pleading. "Alright, alright. I guess I can come over."

Score one, Jalim thought amusedly. He didn't even think Kalim had it in him.

‎‎

The skies above the Scarabia dorm were littered with stars as you munched away on your dessert, blissfully unaware that it had been specially made specifically for you and only you. A new bangle dangled from your wrist, glimmering in the tired glow of the oil lamps that hung down from the ceiling as you pointed out another error in Kalim’s homework - it was simple, decorated with just a few small cuts of precious stones, and it was all the Asim family’s heir could convince you to accept. Anything in the storeroom that his father had sent with him was open to your choosing, yet you had declined and declined until the two had finally worn you down. 

It was clear that to Kalim, all you saw was him, the person, and not his vast wealths; treating him for who he was and not what he had. Refreshing, but at the same time heartwrenching. You were simply waiting to go home after all.

Jamil watched the two of you from a respectable distance for a moment as the two of you laughed over something he couldn’t quite discern, before turning to make the journey to the kitchen, mugs in hand. Despite the earlier surprise, what he had brewing in his mind was a plan that Kalim certainly would never put together himself, but there was no doubt that it was feasible. All he had to figure out first was how much it would take to get Crowley to conveniently be “unable” to find a way home for you - and how much to make sure you never found out.

A low blow, his idea certainly was. And if he suggested it to the Asim heir, the other would agree to that much, but Jamil was certain Kalim would ultimately give in to his desires and make it happen. You wouldn’t be going anywhere far from Kalim if he could help it, not with the glitters of gold that would weigh you down.

[jamil-s-wifey]

Howdy~! Loved your writing! Can I request a fluff/angst scenario in which Jamil Viper suddenly had a nightmare of hurting his fem! s/o during his Overblot and when he wakes up, he quickly rushes over to Ramshackle to check on her, make sure she’s okay? Please and thank you!

Hi, hello hun! Thank you very much, I'm glad my writing brings a smile to people's faces! I love writing comfort fics, so this is right up my alley! Every comfort twst fic has been consumed by yours truly! I hope you enjoy!

WARNING: Dead bodies and mildly gruesome imagery. I kind of went overboard with the nightmare portion-

Drip drip drip

The only sound which could reach his ears was the incessant dripping of ink, covering the ground beneath his feet.

Slithering snakes obscured his peripheral vision, red hot rage filled his veins. The school was in shambles, in every corner there were bodies littering the ground - weakened and malnourished students, who lost their lives under his fanatic dictatorship.

He was the master, but the master of what? Of ruins, of a rotting building, of a dying student body, controlled against their will, of darkened cold nothingness hidden behind lavish feasts and glittering gold. And then there was you - his jewel in the rough, his biggest treasure, kneeling before him, eyes filled with hatred, fear... and exhaustion. You dared not look him in the eyes, but your downward gaze spoke volumes - the love of his life who refused to succumb to her master's wishes.

"Pitiful. You keep disobeying your master. Haven't I taught you manners?"

You refused to answer him, gaze never leaving the ground.

"My treasure, have I not given you everything?" His voice lowered threateningly. "Or perhaps you'd choose to follow in your classmate's footsteps. Perhaps it was foolish of me to believe you'd be anything different than those mindless slaves."

You didn't answer.

"Or perhaps they've contaminated your brain. That must be it, why else would you refuse so adamantly the life of a goddess. Oh, my love, we must cure you."

He grabbed you by the hair, pulling you up. On instinct, you closed your eyes, refusing to catch his gaze.

"Smart little girl." He whispered in your ear. His snakes left painful bitemarks on your skin - covering older ones who'd begun to fade.

That's how it had been for a while - you'd lost track of time. He'd call upon you, lavish you in expensive jewellery, feeding you feasts made by the bloodied hands of your classmates, whisper sweet nothing in your ears. Then he'd get angry at your lack of response and throw you away, leaving you alone in your chambers.

Only this time, it was different.

"Perhaps I should turn to a more radical form of treatment?" His strong hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing.

Your breath became ragged, strained.

"You chose this. I am merely delivering."

You grasped his hand, trying to wiggle away, but it was useless. You felt the ink on his hand seep into your skin and clothes, contaminating your very being.

Your gaze slowly faltered, eyes closing, before he threw you on the ground.

_____________________________________________

As the heavy thud reached his ears he opened his eyes, frantically looking around. He was in his room, it was the middle of the night. He was sweaty, breath ragged. He'd fallen off his bed and that's what woke him up. He searched around for any indication that indeed it was all just a nightmare. With trembling hands he pushed himself up to sit on his bed. His hair was a mess, his heart was beating so loud he felt it might burst through his chest. He felt sick to the stomach, a twisted feeling of guilt, despair and disgust eating at his very core.

His gaze turned to the framed picture on his bedside table. It was you two, on your visit to the Scalding Sands, your arms are wrapped around him and a cheerful smile graced your features.

Was that smile...even real? Or were you being controlled?

Without thinking, he grabbed his shoes and sprinted out of his room, dead set on seeing you, rules be damned.

_____________________________________________

You were woken up by a hurried, frantic knocking on Ramshackle's front door. You slowly got up, cautiously making your way to the entrance. Even though you knew it couldn't be anybody threatening, besides you had the ghosts and Grim as back up, a little caution never hurt anybody.

What you didn't expect to see is your frazzled boyfriend, engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug the moment you opened the door.

"Whoah, Jamil. Are....are you okay?" You gently hugged him back, fingers gliding through his hair, untangling any knots he might have.

He didn't respond, instead pulling back to look you in the eyes. You looked at him dead in the eyes, no fear or disgust in your gaze whatsoever. All he saw was worry and perhaps curiosity. His eyes were glassy with untold emotions, gaze heavy with guilt.

"M-may I come in?" He inwardly cursed himself for stuttering.

"Of course, you can. Come in, come in." You grabbed his hand, leading him to your couch. "What happened? Here. I'll get you some water, did you sprint here?"

Before you could get up, he pulled you to him, hands gently cradling your face.

"Jamil, my love." You breathed out, reaching out to cup his face, "Did you perhaps have a nightmare?"

His guilt-ridden gaze moved to the floor. Somehow, only from you, he couldn't hide a single thing.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He wasn't sure what to answer. Now that he was with you and his head had cleared up, he realised how bizarre the situation was. Of course it was a nightmare.

But that didn't get rid of the weight on his heart.

"I... dreamed of my overblot. I saw... destruction everywhere. And I was hurting you. Constantly. And the fear in your eyes, it looked so real. I -" he sighed deeply. "You died... By my hands." He felt a lump forming in his throat.

"Oh, Jamil."

"And I know it's just a dream, I know but-" he couldn't keep talking. It all overwhelmed him so much.

"Jamil."

"S/O, I-"

"Jamil!"

He snapped out, turning to you.

"Jamil, I have never, ever, for a single moment, felt afraid or disgusted around you. Your overblot happened, we can't change that, but you didn't hurt me. You didn't then. And you haven't since. And I know very well, that you'd never intentionally hurt me in any way. I trust you and I feel safe around you."

He let out a shaky breath. "How do you know you're not being controlled even right now?" It was stupid of him to ask, but his mind wasn't letting him rest.

"Jamil, both you and I know you can't keep using your unique magic indefinitely. So far, every single thing I've done, I've done on my own accord."

"And you don't fear me..?"

You looked at him dead in the eyes, with the most unwavering, serious gaze you could muster.

"How could I fear the man I love?"

He pulled you in for a gentle kiss, which he poured all of his emotions into.

"I promise you, I won't let any harm come your way, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe and content, and free." He mumbled, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"Love, you sound like you're about to propose." You teased, trying to lighten the mood.

A small smile graced his features. "Perhaps in the future.", He thought to himself.

"How about we go back to bed, you are most certainly staying the night here, mister. I'll be right next to you when you wake up."

"I'm sorry for barging in at such an ungodly hour."

"Oh, shut up~. You know you're always welcome here, and besides, I'd always prefer to have you next to me when I sleep."

He didn't really understand what he did to deserve you, but you were his beacon of light and he swore to treasure you and keep you safe for as long as you let him.

[naffeclipse]

Please do elaborate 👁️👁️

@jackofallrabbits's and I made a new AU starring Dragon!Eclipse! A dragonborn-esque creature, he possesses red scales, a lashing tail, and a great crown of dark horns. He lounges on a great hoard of riches in his sooty cavern, but he hungers for more, a most lovely jewel to crown his possessions.

Y/N is a princess (gender-neutral). Beautiful and regal, you, unfortunately, catch Eclipse's greedy eye. His avarice leads him to kidnap you from your royal castle and smuggle you away into his cavern. He plays with you as a cat does with a mouse, and though you defy him and attempt escape after escape, he drags you back into his clutches. You must endure his posesssion, scalding touches, and forked tongue while awaiting rescue from a knight brave enough and strong enough to face Eclipse. With the promise of your hand in marriage to whoever can save you, several have already tried and failed, falling to Eclipse's teeth and claws.

Then two knights, celestial-like, set out to rescue the princess.

[hana-no-seiiki]

Yoooo idk if you know what my hero academia is but what about a batsib( platonic) who’s a lot like dabi. Abused all there life has blue fire burns all over them. Abnormal body heat. Who would be more interesting in the fire? Who would help batsib take care of there burns. HOW WOULD THEY REACT TO THE STABLES COMING OFF!!!

Just the amount of chaos has me foaming out the mouth. 

YANDERE BATFAM + YANDERE TODOROKI CLAN x READER

I tweaked your request a bit and added yan todo clan into the mix if you don’t mind anon? if you rather a version without them then feel free to request again!

I’ll prolly do a part two of this to expand more on the Todo family, Tim, Dick, and Bruce but who knows what my ADHD will hyperfixate on next.

God can I just say that I love Todoroki Clan v Batfam fics. However few and far between they are so I’ll be writing this with a Todoroki! Reader in mind. Perhaps a twin of Dabi.

status: unedited

Humans have a natural, visceral attraction to fire. One can’t help but be drawn to its glow.

You were born as Touya’s (fraternal) twin except your power didn’t have to rely on emotions.

You burned the day you were born. Hurting your mother in the process. Scalding her skin as she desperately tried to feed you despite the danger it meant to her well-being.

In spite of her growing hatred for her husband, you managed to sear your way into her heart and make your mark.

Rei adored you. You looked the most like her underneath all the flames and charred skin. She would coo at you while glaring at her failures. She would run her hands through your hair while the room slowly froze when hearing about that kid who asked for your hand in marriage.

You were her precious gem. A jewel amongst the icky, dark, coal the others call her children. She would do anything for you. Anything.

Enji had to admit. He loved you more than his ambitions himself. He abhorred the pained screams you’d make whenever you tried using your powers. Luckily, unlike his eldest son, you were much more susceptible to the idea of not becoming a hero. All of his attempts at another heir were all in hopes that you didn’t have to face the horrid world of villains.

Touya admired you ever since you two were little. Your parents would often speak of how he’d cry whenever you two were separated. Of how he’d wail whenever you’d get burnt by your own quirk as if he was the one who was hurt.

As you grew up, he grew distant. Envious of your flames that were already so strong. Angry that you born several steps ahead of him regardless of being his twin.

Natsuo and Fuyumi bore the brunt of his complaints. His parents were too entranced by your being so who else did he have to talk to?

It all came to a climax when Shouto gained his quirk. You’d never forget the hope draining from your twin’s visage. The flames that surrounded the two of you when he dragged you out into the woods only to take an attempt at your life.

As darkness consumed your vision, you reach out to your brother’s face and choked out as the smoke covered the two of you.

“I will . . . always . . . love you.”

You awoke to your parents in tears, the news that your twin’s body was never found, and your belongings packed in several bags.

You were to study far away. Have a new start. Where you’d forget your brother.

Gotham.

It was a place known for its crime rate, but Enji’s close friend Bruce promised he’d take care of you while you’re here.

You were greeted by one of his sons, Tim. He was around Fuyumi’s age and was utterly fascinated by your powers.

Through him you were able to appreciate your flames a little more. It was hard not to get close to him. You attended classes together, ate together, played together. He even made you equipment and salves that would ease the burns.

It wasn’t long before you found out about his vigilante persona and thus Bruce’s. But for the sake of safety (your own and their’s) you decided to keep that fact to yourself.

Dick often came by once in a while. It was rare but his visits started to become the highlights of your stay in Gotham. He was fun and energetic. Tim and Bruce were great and all but they always had an air of seriousness that reminded you all too well of your family back in Japan.

He’d often sneak you out and teach you some acrobatic moves. Through process of searching good old google about the Robins, you figured out he was Nightwing after a short while.

Although you absolutely despised them now, you couldn’t deny them their credit for reigniting your passion for heroics.

You started training on your own. Control was something you had already practiced in the past. You knew how to stop the flames when it flared up too much. But you never really got to the point of using it for attacks and combat.

You didn’t really get that far. The most you could do without getting suspicious was to ask your father for a tutor in self defense while only adding some of your flames for the extra damage.

Not to mention the fact that a fire based vigilante would definitely raise flags for the family you’ve been living with.

So you started your “hero” life without using much of your flames until such a time that you were able to either go back to Japan or move out to another state.

That’s when you met Jason. You didn’t know much about him at first. Only that he killed a bunch of the thugs that you were trying to handle on your own.

Without him you’d probably have been dead several times by now.

Thus you took it upon yourself to help him in any way you can.

From being a hindrance you slowly started becoming an essential asset to Jason’s patrols. So much so that he often would blow up if you disappeared for a week only to apologize profusely and buy you pizza when he found out you were gone because of exams.

Jason also made you discover a very important part of your power. While your quirk didn’t rely on emotions to be strong within itself, emotions still played a huge part of it.

And as he slowly placed his lips upon yours, a wall of flame sets off.

You never returned to him after that day.

Around your early adulthood, Damian was taken into the household.

It wasn’t that long before you figured out he had no filter and a lot of ego to boot.

He reminded you a lot of a cat. Your parents would never let you adopt one out of fear for you being scratched, or worse a cat barbecue so you often projected that childhood desire of yours to him.

So while he’d hurt you both physically and emotionally, you in turn would return whatever he gave with love and headpats.

It annoyed him to no end. Who were you to treat him like a baby? If it weren’t for your flames he could probably have you on the floor in a minute tops.

But whenever you’d disappear he realizes how much he enjoys your presence.

He was there when you came back after your encounter with Jason. Your burnt and tattered clothes.

He saw the news. He knew that you’ve been going out to save civilians with one of his predecessors. He knew all about your past and your powers.

And he knew that from this day forth, you were never going to leave the manor ever again.

GENERAL BATFAM TAGLIST: @the-sander-fander

[merakiui]

thank you scalding sands event for reminding me of just how crazy rich kalim is... orz i often forget how spoiled he is and how willing his parents (especially his father) are to do all that they can to ensure he's happy. like remodeling the entire scarabia dorm to fit kalim's vision so he wouldn't be too homesick. or owning giraffes and elephants. or even having an entire private park attached to their already massive property. he is so rich. it's driving me insane. T_T

i wrote about the tweels using their family's influence to essentially "buy" you, but the real buying of you quite literally happens with kalim. you, the servant he's grown so fond of, will suddenly find yourself swimming in wealth. all of these things are gifts, courtesy of kalim. your family is spoiled rotten, and it's such a whiplash. you try to be humble because that's how you were raised, but kalim insists. take these jewels! take this aureate statue! take this car so that you can get yourself a license and drive him around in it! kalim isn't even trying to curry favor with you by drowning you in excessive opulence, even though he very well could. he just wants to give you these things because he likes you and wants you to be happy! but it's so suffocating; you have to thank him because he's your master. your family will forever be grateful to the asims. but it's so awkward. you don't want any of these things. you just want to work in peace.

of course you can't possibly imagine yourself in a relationship with kalim. he's very sweet, but you just don't see him in that way. the gap in wealth is too great, as is your social status. so it's shocking when his father personally visits your parents with kalim, where he gives his blessing for kalim to marry you. and in addition to that, he delivers a very expensive care package, a means of goodwill. "our families will be one now," he says with a radiant smile, "so please think nothing of this little gift!" and you try to say no, but your parents won't hear it. how could you say no to kalim al-asim?! are you foolish? do you not see how lucky you ought to be?

but you can't quite call it luck or a blessing. it feels more like a curse. kalim loves you, yes, but you don't want to love him for his money or his willingness to mindlessly spoil you. but you don't have much say in this matter. kalim's made up his mind and so has his father. the two of you will be wed. it's a nightmare. jamil would pity you, but he's known kalim long enough that any sympathy he might extend to you has long since shriveled.

[ashtavula]

Royalty AU Pt 4: A Meeting With Kalim

Gender Neutral Housewardens x Reader

Word Count: 2424

Start Here

You pace up and down the parlor room as you wait for your guests to arrive. Today, you’ll be meeting with the esteemed Kalim Al-Asim and his vizier, Jamil Viper. You roll the word around on your tongue. Vizier. You’d never heard it until recently, but to your understanding, it simply meant that Jamil was an advisor to Kalim. 

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by your steward, Trein. He warns you that Kalim and Jamil are at the gates, and to be prepared for them. His stern features are pinched. “And they’ve brought a veritable mountain of what seems to be gifts for you.” Trein gives a disapproving sniff. “Don’t let mere baubles sway your judgment of his character.”

With that said, the older gentleman leaves. You suck in a breath, and you force yourself to sit down on a couch and wait. Just as you’re starting to get antsy again, Trein reappears and announces their arrival to you. 

The first thing that you notice is the bright smile plastered on the face of the white haired man that bounces into the room. The next thing is that his body is covered in gold. Stacked bracelets and anklets clink together as he moves, and you can see a jeweled necklace. A heavy set of earrings sways, and his fingers are adorned with gold rings. Even his clothing is adorned with gold thread. In the back of your mind, you think that this man wears more jewelry than you do. 

Even his vizier wears jewelry, though he wears less of it, and his is more plain, for lack of a better term. The man is attractive, with his narrow eyes and silky hair. But what stands out to you is the thick ring of gold that encircles his throat. It’s a gold choker, but it reminds you of a collar. You also notice the way his eyes appraise you and your surroundings. In a strange way, it reminds you of how Azul sized you up when you first met him.

Before you can open your mouth to greet them properly, Kalim’s smiling visage bounds up to you. “Hello, Your Highness! I’m Kalim AL-Asim, heir apparent to the Al-Asim Trading Company. And this is my trusted vizier, Jamil Viper.” His hands clasp yours, which surprises you. You weren’t expecting him to touch you so casually. “I’m really happy to be able to finally meet you!”

“Uh…I’m happy to meet you too,” you murmur. You turn your gaze towards Jamil, and you incline your head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, vizier.”

Jamil’s eyes widen slightly, like he wasn’t expecting you to speak to him. He quickly dips into a low bow. “The pleasure is mine, Your Highness. But there’s no need to address a mere servant like myself. I am simply here to assist Master Kalim.”

Kalim shakes his head, still smiling. “It’s fine, Jamil! We’re not in the Scalding Sands, so it’s fine if you talk.”

You can see Jamil’s eye twitch. It looks like he’s about to scold Kalim, but he doesn’t do so. Instead, he lowers his head with a quiet murmur of, “As you wish…”

Kalim’s words stick out to you, and your eyes return to him. “Are servants not supposed to be addressed in your country?”

“Well, most people just don’t pay attention to them. Jamil’s from a low caste, and people from a higher caste usually won’t bother to talk to them unless it’s necessary. But I think that that’s wrong! Jamil and I might be from different castes, but he’s still my friend!” Kalim’s grip on your hands tightens slightly, and he fixes you with a hopeful look. “So, please treat us the same way, okay?”

“Kalim!” Jamil’s face twists into an expression that you can only label as irritation. “Please don’t make such bold requests of Their Highness!” Jamil bows to you yet again. “Please disregard that, Your Highness. Just treat me like any other servant.”

You don’t miss the way that Kalim pouts, nor the way that Jamil grits his teeth. You decide to change the subject. “I was told that you’d brought things for me?”

Kalim takes the bait. He brightens up again, and he lets go of your hands. “Oh yeah! Jamil, help me bring them in!”

Jamil is already heading out the door before Kalim finishes his sentence. Turns out that Trein is correct. Kalim has brought you more gifts than you can count. There are bolts of colorful silk, boxes of jewelry, and spices that you’ve never even heard of before. It’s overwhelming, and Kalim tells you about everything with great enthusiasm. Jamil silently presents each item to you as Kalim points them out.

By the end of it, you’re adorned in almost as much jewelry as Kalim, and you have a length of silk wrapped around your shoulders like a shawl. They’ve all been placed on your frame before you could even express your opinions on the gifts. You can’t help but wonder just how much money all of this costs. 

Kalim carefully slides yet another gold bangle onto your wrist, and he smiles. “I really wanted to bring you a tiger, or a parrot, but Jamil said that would’ve been too much.”

You look at Jamil, hoping that the look in your eyes is enough to convey your gratitude towards him for stopping that particular piece of insanity. With the way the corner of his lip twitches, you think he understands. You turn your attention back to Kalim, and you smile. “Kalim, how would you like to eat lunch out in the gardens? The flowers are all in bloom right now.”

Kalim answers your question with the same unwavering enthusiasm he’s shown for everything. “That sounds great! What do you think, Jamil?”

Jamil nods. “Your suggestion is most excellent, Your Highness. I trust that your gardens are well guarded?”

Well, that’s a strange question to ask. But you nod. “Yes, there are regular guard patrols. And a pair of guards will be stationed close by as we eat.”

This seems to put Jamil at ease, and he quietly bids you to lead the way. Kalim takes hold of your hand, and Jamil trails after you two as you walk. You take a moment to inform Trein of your intentions, and the steward assures you that lunch will be served shortly. With that done, you guide the two men out to your castle’s sprawling gardens.

Kalim seems impressed by the variety of flowers being grown. He asks questions, and openly asks Jamil if it’d be possible to grow some of the plants in the Scalding Sands. Soon, the three of you are sitting down under the shade of a gazebo while your servants carry in trays of food and drink. As Kalim is served, you notice that Jamil is quick to take small bites or sips of anything that the merchant is given. Kalim doesn’t seem to notice, continuing to happily chatter away. 

“What’s Jamil doing,” you ask.

“Oh, he’s just testing things for poison,” Kalim replies cheerfully, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. Jamil takes a sip from a glass of lemonade, and places it in front of Kalim after a few moments. Kalim only drinks from it after that's been done.

Jamil notices your frown, and elaborates for you. “Please don’t be offended, Your Highness. It’s not that we don’t trust your servants. I just need to verify everything that Master Kalim eats and drinks, to be on the safe side. In our home country, poison is the weapon of choice. And everyone there knows that Master Kalim is currently visiting your castle.”

Your frown deepens, but you suppose you can understand Jamil’s caution. The things you consume here at the castle have already been tested for such things, but you can see why Jamil and Kalim would want to take extra steps to insure their own safety. “It’s alright. Please do whatever you think is necessary.”

They both thank you. You wait patiently for Jamil to test everything before you tuck into your own plate. The kitchen chefs have made one of your favorites today, and you smile as you take a bite.

“Is this one of your favorites?”

The question takes you by surprise, and you look at Kalim. “...It is. How did you know?”

Kalim laughs. “It was pretty obvious! You looked so happy when you saw it being brought out, and you smiled when you took your first bite.” Kalim takes a bite of the food, and he lets out a pleased hum. “I can see why you like it so much. It’s delicious.”

A faint blush colors your cheeks at his words. You hadn’t expected him to notice your joy. “What sort of things do you like to eat? I’ll see if I can get the chefs to prepare it for you next time.”

“Hm, I really like coconut juice, but I don’t know if your servants can get it here. Don’t worry about it! I’d rather try the sorts of things you like while I’m here.”

As Kalim turns his attention back to his plate, Jamil leans over to whisper to you. “I can send a kitchen servant over with some recipes and supplies if you wish.”

You nod, and whisper a thank you. Jamil seems to be more than capable. It’s easy to see why Kalim trusts the man with his life. Once again, you can tell that he’s not quite used to people expressing gratitude towards him. He turns his face away from you, and he lets out a quiet cough. 

As you continue to eat your lunch, Kalim proves to be wonderful company. He’s attentive, sweet, and endlessly happy about everything. You find yourself being swayed by his infectious energy. In the time it takes you to have a meal, you find yourself laughing more than you have in the past week. Kalim just has a way of making you forget about your stress. So far, he seems like an excellent candidate for your hand in marriage.

However, the sight of the bracelets on your arm gives you pause. He had given you a lot of very expensive gifts without batting an eye at the price. If Kalim was used to spending money like it grew on trees, then he might be a drain on the royal coffers. You sneak a peek at Jamil. The man appears to be trustworthy, but it seems like Kalim heavily relies on him. Jamil might be an excellent advisor, but would that continue to hold true in your kingdom? Or would the two of them falter when faced with the stresses of moving to a foreign country?

As you ponder this, your brow furrows. Jamil notices, and he turns to Kalim. All it takes is a few well-placed words to distract the man, and Kalim looks away from the two of you. Jamil shifts in his seat, and he makes eye contact with you. 

“Kalim would be a wonderful husband.”

Your head feels fuzzy, and you forget what you were thinking about earlier. Yes, Kalim would be a wonderful husband, wouldn’t he?

“You should choose to marry Kalim.”

It’s hard to think about anything other than the words that Jamil is hissing to you. Marrying Kalim does sound nice. After all, it’d be so easy to choose him. He’s right there. All you’d have to do is tell him, and he’d be yours.

Jamil looks away, and your head clears. Yes, Kalim is an excellent choice. But you shake your head slightly. You still have to meet your other candidates. You can’t make a choice before then.

Kalim’s voice brings you out of your thoughts. “I’m sorry, what did you say Kalim?”

“I asked if we could take a walk around the garden after we eat. Jamil said that your castle was given a Taif rosebush for your birthday last year. I’d like to see them.”

You nod. “Yes, they were a gift from your Sultan. I’d be happy to show you.”

You get up, and the two men follow you down the path. The Taif roses were planted in a place that you’d frequently pass through, as they were a gift for you. Kalim gasps when he sees the thriving bush. Their sweet scent fills the air, and Kalim leaves your side to rush up to the blooms. “Wow! You’ve taken really good care of them!”

“Thank the gardener,” you say. “He’s the one who takes care of them.”

“Okay. Where is he?”

“Kalim…” Jamil sighs.

You reassure him. “I’ll make sure he knows, Kalim. Don’t worry.”

Kalim nods, and he turns to the flowers again. His warm hand finds yours. “Your Highness, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

His grip tightens. Kalim keeps his eyes on the roses. “Can we be friends if you don’t pick me? I don’t really have any friends besides Jamil. And I really liked spending time with you today.”

Those soft, earnest words make your heart hurt. You know what it’s like to not have any friends because of your status. You also remember what you were told about Kalim’s family. His own siblings frequently try to poison him. It can’t be easy to trust people after such experiences. You squeeze his hand. “Of course we can be friends, Kalim. I’d like that.”

Kalim’s hand slips out of yours, and he throws his arms around you. He gives you a tight hug. “Thank you,” he whispers. When he pulls away, the smile on his face is nearly blinding.

Out of the corner of your eye, you think you can see Jamil’s face soften slightly. But when you turn your head to look properly, his expression has evened out again.

Later, when the two of them leave, you retire to your bedroom to rest before dinner. As you lean back in your chair, your thoughts turn back to the pair. Particularly Kalim. It’s strange, but there’s a little thought in the back of your mind that’s telling you that Kalim should be the one you marry. 

You frown, and shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the thought. You’re not sure where it came from, or why the thought is so persistent. Maybe it’s just because you enjoyed his company so much.

There’s a knock on your door, and Trein enters your room.

“Pardon the intrusion, Your Highness, but you have a visitor…”

[webism]

KINKTOBER DAY TEN: sensory play with sub!geto

kinktober masterlist

cw; reader got a pussy 🙂‍↕️

First you steal his sight—a blindfold stolen from a certain white-haired sorcerer wraps around Suguru's violet eyes and renders his world dark. You suppose that tonight you'll miss the way he looks at you, eyes always blown out when he's feeling lustful, but it's worth the way he shivers in anticipation of your next touch. He can't predict your ministrations now, not without being able to look at you, so he's left just as you want him: vulnerable.

Then, you steal his touch—bind his gorgeous wrists to the headboard above him and deny him the pleasure of his hands on your skin. You tell him, in as serious of a tone as you can conjure, that the second he tried to free himself from his bindings—because you both know he's strong enough to do so—you'll stop touching him, fucking him, altogether. And you know he aches to map your body with his burning palms, which makes the whines that slip from his lips at the prospect of having your body untouched, all that much hotter.

Then, you alter his hearing—play some soft music that will disturb the sounds of your movements. Something with a deep bass that he can feel in his chest, something strong enough to fuck to but gentle enough that when you lean in real close to his ear and whisper all of your plans to fuck him absolutely stupid, not a note of music reaches his pretty mind.

Play with his sense of smell, too— light a candle or two that he clocks the smell of immediately, because though the wax smells nice, it feels even better scalding and dripping onto his skin. A promise of later through his sense of smell alone, he wonders if he's going crazy already—if your final goal is to melt down his sanity and leave him too mindless to care.

And once he's at your mercy, stripped of his basic abilities—to see, to hear, to touch, to smell— the only thing left to fuck is his sense of taste, right? Because what your sweet Suguru is expecting is an ice cube down the column of his neck, or hot wax dripped over the hard planes of his chest and abs, or a fucking feather ghosted across his nipples.

What he isn't expecting, is for you to sit full force on his pretty, blindfolded face and have him taste you entirely on his tongue. He swears against your cunt, laps at it like you're holy—which in his eyes you are—and has to will himself from begging to forget this whole scene so he can lay you down and eat your pussy proper and messy.

Oh but you rub yourself over his chin and nose, and arch down to trace your nails down his chest, over his sensitive nipples, over his stomach and through the gentle patch of hair that rails down to the base of his cock. Your touch is unknown, sporadic, and Suguru Geto will never admit he loves the lack of knowing what's next, but he cums before you an even wrap your fingers around his cock.

Maybe taste is his kryptonite.

@medusamara5 @echodead @aliisinwonderland @curiositykilledthecatx3 @hirainne

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@samaraxmorgan

[rakiah]

Akanda & Akedya Siam

▪️Bio

They grew up in a wealthy family in Scalding Sands, their mother is a famous opera singer and their father a Spelldrive pro player, striker for the Burning Sands team.

Both parents are beastpeople, mama is an Abyssinian cat and papa is a tiger.

They’re always together. Never have been separated.

Love their mama a lot and so does she.

Incredibly good swimmers thanks to their dad, unlike their mama who can’t bear it.

▪️Facts

Doing mischief since birth because only their parents can identify which is which.

Their UM appeared when they were 5, consequently they were assigned a special teacher to teach them how to manage their magical power.

Each of them has his own voice but they learnt to speak the same voice at a very young age.

They like shiny things because their mama used to wear a lot of golden bracelets. When they were kittens, she left some of her jewels in their basket to help them sleep when she was performing.

They bite/chew a lot so beware. Can't always say if they do because they like you or they want to annoy you.

▪️School life

Wished to be in Scarabia but ended up in Pomefiore. They fully accepted their fate after seeing Vil.

End up a lot in Scarabia nonetheless for napping under the home-like sun.

Like to hangout with the freshmen (not a shared feeling for most of them) but usually go by themselves.

They’re pretty good students but their attention span is really low. They constantly need new interactions to not lose their focus.

They don’t like reading. Utterly. But someone reading for them can make them deeply attentive and quiet.

▪️Relationships

Vil — Admiration, their new shiny mama

Kalim — Friend (bonus homeland pal)

Jamil — Dislike very much, too sneaky

Silver — Nap friend, he’s like a magnet if Silver sleeps they have to sleep on him too

Floyd — Meal Enemy to Partner in Crime

[words-of-wrath]

Conquered

Once upon a time there was a knight and a princess 😈

Enjoy 🖤

The city burned outside, as did the furnace. It blazed like the glory that was ignited in Lady Maven's heart when the siege began. She could not yet shake the exciting imagery of the battle, still raging outside though she was not part of it anymore. The trebuchet's flinging large boulders, the swords clanging and clashing. Lady Maven remembered dashing through the mud and dirt, scuffed and scorched. She remembered screeching as she drove her freshly sharpened blade into it's first heart. And soon it was dripping with the blood of the enemy, flecking droplets over the grass. And the bodies lay strewn around her, eyes hanging eternally open. Lady Maven rose a hammer up and brought it down upon the petite golden crown in front of her. She was a knight of the realm. Respectable, full of valor, loved by many. But now, oh now, she would let a more deviant side of herself out. 

She remembered what he had said to her. "I have a special job for you, Lady Maven. Oh, Maven, bravest and best of all knights!" Her commanding officer had said. She had smirked at that then and she was smirking now. Another strike on the crown, and it buckled under her force. Soon it would mold to her will, her specific desires. "Once the siege starts you are tasked with... taking care of the princess." Lady Maven struck the crown again and it nearly flattened. She dislodged the jewels from their homes and started to reshape the attire in the heat of the flaming furnace. While doing so, her eyes wandered over to the post just next to her. There she was, bound by the torso, arms behind her back, and gagged. "Do with her what you will," she remembered him saying.

The princess. The fair lady. What would they think of her if they saw her now? Lady Maven grinned deviously. Her auburn hair was spilling over her shoulders chaotically, her deep brown eyes filled to the brim with fear, wide as they could go. She watched Maven hammer away, twisting and contorting in her pretty pink dress. She was like to ruin it fussing like that. Maven cared not, however, she was nearly done. It would still be hot, but a snot-nose noble brat like this one deserved a good branding. Maven fastened the jewels back into place on the newly shaped collar. She smiled wickedly, turning in the Princess' direction. 

It was hot, but her knightly gauntlets protected her from most of the head. Princess shook her head from side to side quickly, mumbling against the pair of panties gagging her as Maven squatted down and opened up the scalding hot golden collar. Maven gripped a fistful of Princess' wavy auburn hair. She began to scream even before it was fastened around her neck. When the heated metal finally touched her bare neck, her eyes rolled to the back of her head as her skin singed. The collar cooled around her throat while tears streamed down her cheeks and drool dripped from her gagged mouth. 

"Come now, Princess," Lady Maven cooed sinisterly as she hooked a leash to her neck and started to unfasten her bonds. "Darling, a little pain never hurt anyone," she reassured as she tugged Princess toward her feet. The gag was taken off and her screams were freed from her mouth, spilling over the dirt ground. On her hands and knees, Princess could barely look up at Maven. The pain was still too much to bear. "Beg," Maven said plainly. "Beg for my mercy, Princess..."

A single sob caught in her throat as she gripped Maven's ankle with weak fingers, clutching and slightly digging her fingernails into the flesh. "Puh-puh-p-please, Lady Knight... I wish not for thine wrath... please..." she gurgled out, saliva dripping down from the corner of her mouth to the ground. "I've done n-nothing to deserve this..." Maven took a deep breath, and then a swift kick to the Princess' perfect ribs sent her careening across the ground in a heap. She tugged Princess back up, unfastening her belt and letting her trousers fall to her ankles. 

Princess watched, half awestruck, half in horror as Lady Maven's cock beat to life in the freshly heated air. Her lips pursed together and she shook her head as Maven grabbed another fistful of her hair and drew her close. Princess' nostrils were suddenly filled with Maven's scent as she nuzzled the base of her erect member. Lady Maven dragged her lips up and down her own shaft. Princess was forced to kiss up and down, coating her with a thin film of lip gloss. Finally, when she got to the tip, the knight shoved her halfway down her length. Princess hummed at the sudden filling of her cheeks, forced again to slide down to the base. She gagged. 

Tears welled up in her eyes once more as Lady Maven bucked her hips, gripping her face on both sides with her gauntlets and sliding her cock in and out. Down her throat it bored, hitting the back harshly. Maven rolled her eyes to the back of her head and let out a grunt as she continued to violate Princess' mouth. "You're no longer royalty, dear. Not when you're with me," Maven hissed through a moan. "Now, you're just a harlot. A dumb whore for my use." Princess looked up at her desperately, innocently taking Maven's cock between her lips. Finally, Lady Knight shoved her down to the base as she spilled down Princess' throat. 

Mouth dripping with seed, Princess was tugged off of Maven's half deflated cock. She was tugged up to her feet as their lips were drawn together. Lady Maven tasted herself from Princess' lips as her tongue snaked into the throat she had just gotten done violating. Princess was pushed up to the lip of the furnace. Palms extended, heat blasting over her, she winced as the leash was tugged from behind. Her back was forced to arch, and a gauntlet ripped at the skirt of her pretty pink dress. Maven's metal fingers massaged her slit. She was completely exposed underneath as Maven had ripped the panties off earlier to gag her. 

Princess had begun to sweat, the flames ever so close to her. Lady Maven squatted down, drawing her hips near with a firm grip and shoving her face into her cunt, dripping with anticipation. Princess shivered as her tongue snaked along the clit, flicking and spelling her name. M A V E N, each letter carefully drawn out with the tip of her tongue until Princess was a shivering and moaning wreck of a human being. Her tongue mercilessly invading her body, assaulting her pussy as Princess gripped the lip of the furnace, dripping with sweat. 

Maven stood soon after it was clear she couldn't take it anymore. Princess felt the tip of Maven's cock teasing her slit. She braced, back arching once more as the leash was tugged. One hand on her hip, the other gripping the leash, Lady Maven thrust into her. "Your body will be conquered like your kingdom," Maven said as she started to thrust in and out of her. "Sown like the farmlands we take, bred like the animals we raise." 

"A-ah!" was all Princess could muster as Lady Maven took her then and there, sheltered by the rickety stable. Heat spilled over her as her tits spilled from her pretty pink dress, bouncing up and down as Maven fucked her mercilessly. She was tensing, aching, body begging for more but too prideful a Princess to admit it openly. In that moment she was owned. And she may very well be for the rest of her life as Maven pumped in and out of her like a wild stallion. Maven reached around to grope her tits, tugging on the collar with one hand as she pounded Princess from behind. Her cheeks slammed against the knight's hips and jiggled as the rest of her body tensed. 

"G-good girl," Maven said with one final push, pumping loads of warm seed up into her womb. Maven could no longer hold it back, and she let out a deep cry of pleasure. A slap was planted on her ass and Maven tugged out. "You're not a noble now. You are nothing!" she said as she tossed Princess to the ground. Her pretty pink dress torn, her hair mussed, and her body aching, Princess fell to the ground. "A noble knight's toy. A slut!" Maven turned her onto her back with her boot and planted it into her chest. "Tell me you're mine," she said, cocking her head to the side and staring at Princess expectantly. The kingdom burned outside, the people screaming as they fell one by one by the sword. Princess turned her gaze onto Lady Maven and gulped. 

"I-I'm yours," she said.  

[separatist-apologist]

Love Is A Lie

Summary: After her mothers death, Arina goes from the well-loved daughter of a nobleman to a servant in his home. She dreams of escaping to the coast and making her own way, and when she learns of a ball the King of Avalon is hosting to pick a wife, Arina sees her chance. With a little help from a fairy godmother, Arina agrees to exchange a favor for one night with the King.

But Eris Vanserra has other plans when they meet, and Arina isn't sure she's ready for the consequences of one night dancing at a ball.

Part Two of OUAT series

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

The sound of heels against stone drew Arina from her reverie. Three days in the dungeons had made her numb to noise—to the moaning, the pleading, and the rattling chains. Unfortunately, it hadn’t numbed her to the smell—coming back to consciousness brought with it the smell of human filth and misery. Turning her head through the gloom, Arina saw the beautiful face of her fairy godmother.

Amarantha.

“Tsk, tsk,” she began, slipping through the bars as though she were made of water. “You were caught.”

Arina turned her head, staring dead-eyed at the wall in front of her. There was no point in pleading with the witch.

“I could free you,” Amarantha continued, snapping her fingers so the barred door that held Arina swung open of its own accord. “Let you try again, if you like?”

Arina didn’t respond. 

“Or maybe you failed on purpose. Love,” she spat as though the word tasted foul. “Look where it got you.”

“Just kill me,” she said tonelessly. 

“In time, perhaps. I’m not quite finished with you just yet. You did fail me—the prince lives and so, too, does little Elain Archeron. I can’t seem to stay ahead of the little wretch.”

That drew Arina’s attention. What did Elain have to do with all this? Amarantha wasn’t really talking to Arina, merely at her. 

“I’m merciful. You still have time to make this right,” Amarantha crooned, turning her attention back toward Arina. Arina shook her head.

“He won’t see me. He hates me.”

“Yes, I’ve heard the rumors. He loved you once, though,” Amarantha said in that syrupy voice of hers. It was as if she wanted to make things better having already destroyed so much. “Perhaps he’d see you if you got on your knees and begged.”

Arina swallowed her revulsion. “Got on my knees only to stab him in the back, you mean?”

“Why not whisper how much you love him right before you press the dagger into his ribs?” Amarantha suggested, revealing the same dagger Eris had taken from her. “Let it be the final words between you.”

“Why this dagger?” Arina questioned, reaching for the jeweled hilt sitting at her bare feet. “Poisoning him would be far easier.”

“Ah, there’s a trick to this blade,” Amrantha told her, delight burning in her beetle black eyes. “It keeps a soul trapped until I have use of them. A king is a useful toy to have in my possession. Now, I want you to take your pretty little self back to his bed and plead with him until he is close enough you can drive this into his body. But just in case you think to defy me…”

Amarantha snapped her fingers and in an instant, heavy, iron shoes were strapped to Arina’s once bare feet. She watched in horror as the metal began to warm, the metal brightening until the heat was overwhelming. Shrieking, she reached to pull them off only to scald her fingertips.

“You like to dance, don’t you? Consider this an incentive. Kill Eris Vanserra or dance for me until I’m no longer amused. Understand?”

Arina nodded, tears streaming down her face. All at once, the metal began to cool, though not quick enough for her liking. She couldn’t move her feet without touching skin to the contraption. “Take these off.”

“Oh, I think I’ll leave them. Just in case,” Amarantha said with a sharp-toothed smile. “I want you to think only of me and just how unpleasant my displeasure will be should you fail me a second time.”

With a snap of her fingers, Amarantha was gone. The door to her cell was still open—as if it mattered. And though Arina’s feet were burned, she was mostly intact. Arina counted her breaths, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her dress as she waited for night to fall.

Minutes felt like days, the hours stretching miserably. With no windows and only the dim torchlight just outside her cell, Arina had no way of telling time. While she waited, Arina picked at the metal shoes that held her feet. There had to be a way out of them, though it felt like the more she tugged, the tighter they adhered to her skin. 

Finally, she heard the clipped sound of boots against stone followed by the pale, lined face of the man she’d married. Eris took her in, eyes sweeping her curled form, the dagger balancing on her knees and the iron shoes now strapped against her feet.

“She came?” he whispered, standing in the doorframe. 

“Yes,” Arina agreed, biting her lower lip. “She brought me this.”

“Did she explain its importance?”

“It’s imbued with magic…it’ll trap you. This isn’t about you, Eris. It’s about Elain,” she whispered, waiting to see what would happen next. Eris had asked her to trust him and she had, though that had only resulted in her being thrown in the dungeons while he ordered the guards not to speak a word that she was there. He’d get to decide what happened to her and having spent three days alone in the dark, Arina was beginning to wonder if he wouldn’t just kill her after all.

Eris crossed the filthy cell, joining her gingerly on the bench. He was so wildly out of place in his fine clothes.

“Are you hurt?”

Arina wanted to cry. “I’m okay,” she lied, unwilling to tell him the truth. Just in case. Eris reached for her face, sweeping his thumb over her cheek. 

“You’re not. But you will be. Are you ready for what comes next?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on,” Eris said, offering Arina his hand. She hesitated before taking it, crying out softly when her injured feet touched the ground. Her knees buckled and the only thing that kept her from slamming to the stone was Eris’s arms. “You are hurt.”

“I’m fine,” she panted, though she pressed her cheek against his chest all the same. It felt good to be touched after days of utter deprivation. In her worst moments, Arina indulged in a fantasy in which Eris just never came back. Sometimes she imagined the speech he’d give in which he’d laugh at her, asking if she genuinely believed he could ever love her. 

“You’re not,” Eris whispered, kissing the top of her head. “And I won’t be either if I have to sleep another night alone. This is what she wants, isn’t it? For you to charm me?”

“And then kill you,” Arina reminded him. 

“I would gladly die at your hands.”

Arina had to choke back her laughter before it devolved into tears. Maybe Eris recognized it because he murmured, “It’s almost over now.”

Arina didn’t think that was true though there was no point in arguing. Eris led her out of the dungeon, hands tight around her body. If she’d thought there would be a reprieve once they were back in his bedroom, Elain was mistaken. Eris’s brothers were waiting with Elain Vanserra, all of whom looked equally furious. Not at Arina, whom Eris set gently on the bed.

“She means to trap me,” Eris told his brothers softly, taking out the blade to show them.”

“I knew it,” Elain murmured, wrapping her arms around her body. “She knows I’d bargain for your freedom.”

“You won’t,” Eris snarled, whirling on Elain as Connall picked up Arina’s damaged foot to examine the contraption binding her. “This is not the time for heroics.”

“Any soul, right?” Arina murmured as Tanwen sat on her other side. “Including hers?”

“It won’t work,” Eris began, but Lucien’s once serious gaze had brightened. 

“It will work,” Lucien breathed, looking at Elain. “She’s not clever—she’ll come to gloat and that’s when we’ll have her. We can trap her until we figure out a way to kill her.”

“What about my sisters?” Elain demanded, rounding on her husband. “They’re still out there and I need to know how to free them.”

“I promise we will,” Lucien said, taking his wife's hands within his own. “I swear it. But for right now, we have to do this.”

“She’ll know—”

“She won’t,” Eris interrupted, turning to look at Arina. “You can do this, can’t you?”

Arina agreed with Elain. Amarantha would suspect a trick, would be prepared to kill them all. What were the odds she and Eris survived? It seemed impossible. Still…maybe it was better to go down trying than it was to lay down and accept defeat. And if there was a chance they could be together, Arina had to take it. 

“Do you trust me?” Eris asked, turning the full weight of his amber eyes on her. She saw his hope, his determination. 

“Tell me what to do.”

ERIS: Eris felt Arina’s legs straddle his hips. In other circumstances it would have been a dream to know she wanted to be on top of him. Now it was all he could do to keep himself still and quiet and let her work. He could feel her trembling hands, could all but taste her fear. She didn’t think this would work.

 Neither did Eris, truthfully. Still, they had to try. The alternative was losing Arina and Eris wasn’t willing to accept that. They were so close. All she had to do was take that knife and cut exactly where he’d told her to. After that, everything was out of their hands. 

Eris felt the knife pierce his clothes, felt the warm gush of blood spill against the bed. Arina whispered, “I’m so sorry,” before dropping the knife loudly to the floor just as they’d agreed. 

“So sweet,” came a twisted, crooning voice from the dark. Eris didn’t dare move even as Arina scrambled back, her metal clad feet clanking against the marble floors. “If only love was enough to save you. It’s nothing personal.”

Arina cried out, knees buckling as the room illuminated in a sickening, orange glow. Her shoes had ignited in the moments after Amarantha’s arrival, forcing her to either hop foot to foot in some sick kind of dance or frantically try and get them off her feet. 

Eris rose from his place in bed, their plan already falling apart. 

“Tell me where little Elain Archeron is, and I’ll spare your pretty wife, princeling.” 

Eris didn’t dare look at his wife lest he ruin the entire thing. Her death wouldn’t be on his hands. He could play it cool just long enough to free them, if only temporarily. Gesturing absently, he said, “She’s around.”

“Call for her,” Amarantha ordered. Eris heard Arina whimper at his feet and dug his nails against his palms to keep himself from reaching for her. They were so close. Elain could fix this for them—Eris knew it. She’d see the pieces laid before her and she’d make it happen.

So Eris called for her, well aware Elain was merely in the next room surrounded by his brothers. Amarantha must have known it too, because her head turned toward the closet doors before Elain ever emerged. 

With one hand resting on her rounded stomach, Elain was the picture of serene grace. Like she hadn’t once survived an attempt on her life by the same witch now standing in front of her. Eris was in hell watching things play out, all the while having to see Arina writhe below, forgotten by everyone but him. How long could her feet remain in that contraption before they were no longer of any use to her? 

Grinding his teeth, Eris forced himself to remain where he was, still bloodied from the blade before. Of course the blood was fake—but it was only ever meant to lure Amarantha to him. She wanted Eris dead but not so badly she couldn’t resist trying to get Elain back, too. Her hubris would be her undoing, though Eris wasn’t fool enough to think they’d manage anything but containing the witch today.

“Look at you,” Amarantha breathed, ignoring the way the metal around Arina’s feet glowed orange. Eris and Elain met each others gaze in the dark, her resolve unmistakable even as she jutted out her bottom lip and held her stomach protectively.

Was Lucien losing his mind behind the door? Eris thought he understood how his brother must feel. If he had to wait another minute, someone was going to die.

Probably him. 

“You’ve been busy,” Armantha breathed, her focus wholly on Elain. “You look ready to burst.”

“What do you want?” Elain asked, adjusting her stance in an attempt to look threatening. She failed—miserably—but Amarantha wasn’t looking at Arina on the floor. The witch didn’t see how Arina’s fingers curled around that dagger, sliding it slowly across the floor where Eris was able to catch it beneath the toe of his boot. 

“What do I want?” Amarantha cackled, throwing her head back so her blood red hair cascaded like a river of blood down her back. With her attention on Elain, Eris crouched as slowly as he dared, eyes locked with his wife. If he failed, they’d all die here and his kingdom would crumble to ruins. His heart swam in his stomach as ice flooded up his spine, causing his fingers to tremble ever so slightly.

They would succeed, he told himself, if only because they had to. 

“If you leave them alone, I’ll give it to you,” Elain breathed, causing Lucien to finally emerge from behind the door, hand on his blade.

“No!” Lucien interrupted, causing just enough of a commotion that no one caught Eris rise to his feet, blade in hand. “No, Elain—”

“Let the girl speak!” Amarantha ordered, wholly focused on Elain in front of her. What did she imagine she could get? What kind of twisted bargain was she working in her mind? Elain inched closer to Eris and he knew right then what Elain wanted.

Retribution for the pain and suffering she’d experienced. For what they’d all been through. He reached for her, pulling her back to his chest so she could reach for the dagger concealed in his other hand. Elain’s fingers also trembled though no part of her expression waivered. 

“What about my child?” Elain suggested as Lucien surged forward again. This time Amarantha flicked her fingers, throwing his brother roughly against the far wall. 

“You’d give me your unborn baby in exchange for this man's life?”

“For everyone's life,” Elain whispered, her eyes on Amarntha. The witch stood facing Lucien, her back half-turned to Elain. All they needed was one more diversion from his brother and they could make their move. “I can have more children.”

“Your first two children,” Amarantha crooned. “There are twins in there.”

Lucien moaned, pushing himself to his feet. “Elain, this is madness. They’re our babies—”

“We can have more,” she said, her voice heavy with sorrow. Eris nearly believed Elain’s grief. “You want them both?”

Amarantha’s joy was obscene. “Yes. Both your babes, in exchange for the lives in this room.”

There was a trick to her words—some game they were all missing. Arina whimpered, dragging herself closer to Eris while trying desperately not to touch her skin against the scalding metal contraptions. 

“No!” Lucien roared, running forward to head butt Amarantha. It was the distraction they needed. The witch turned her attention toward Eris’s brother just as Elain stepped forward and buried her blade in Amarantha’s neck. The witch let out a blood curdling laugh, head thrown back even as blood began to pour from the wound. 

“Foolish girl,” she hissed, the words gurgled from her mouth. “Now you’ll never find the eldest.”

Still holding her dagger, Elain leaned forward. “I’ll find her and when we’re reunited, we’ll be back to kill you.”

“We shall see,” Amarantha replied, her edges fading into the room. It took another moment before the knife Elain held clattered to the floor, leaving only a pool of blood behind. 

“Get these off me,” Arina whispered, prompting the room into a flurry of movement. Lucien reached for Elain, pulling her into his body as she cried into his chest, swearing she would never have given up their unborn children.

The metal burned Eris’s fingertips badly, but in the end he managed to get them off Arina’s feet and haul her up into his arms before Elain ever finished apologizing.

“That dagger doesn’t leave my sight,” Eris ordered, nodding at Elain to put it on his side table while he set Arina gently to the bed. “Holy fucking gods.”

“Everyone is okay,” Elain murmured, but Eris wasn’t having it.

“Get out,” he added. It had been days since he’d last seen his wife.

And he wanted to talk to her.

[adidastain]

good luck

1999 serj tankian x fem reader (unnamed)

warnings: smut (handjob - M receiving)

notes: all lowercase, first person perspective (I, me, my, etc.)

word count: 2818

—

the scalding heat of the day paired with the amount of people in the crowd was an agonizing combination to endure, especially for the band onstage. it was nearing the end of the first half of the set, so the band was getting ready to head backstage for a quick break and cool off.

i was already waiting in one of the tents, sweating my ass off. i recognized the song they were playing and could hear that it was coming to an end. i’d watched most of their set, but there were way too many people to be even slightly comfortable, so i left.

the guitarist announced the end of the first set and thanked everyone, and in the midst of the crowd’s cheers, the boys filed offstage one by one.

as soon as my best friend was within 5 feet of me, i was all over him. he was covered in sweat. his white tank top clung to his muscular body and his skin was shiny. just seeing him made me lose my breath.

“there you are- thank you- where were you this morning?” he asked me, taking a water bottle from one of the roadies. serj nudged me with his knuckles as we began walking to his dressing room.

“i had a late start,” i sighed. “partied too hard last night.”

god. i hated how awkward i was around him now that i realized i liked him. no one else made me as squeamish as he did when i was near him.

serj let out a low, dry chuckle. i could hear that he’d lost his voice while singing. he broke into a series of coughs before taking another swig of water.

“missed you,” he said. “we had this great breakfast. it was, like, this huge buffet thing. like what you typically see at hotels, but way better.”

“i’m terribly sorry i missed it,” i said, walking backwards in front of him with a smirk on my face.

“i don’t forgive you,” he said dramatically, poking my stomach. i poked him back, and he then began chasing me around.

i bolted down the backstage hallway, taking a turn down another hallway. the walls were white and silent, without any echo.

i lost serj behind me. i couldn’t hear him running around anymore. all i could hear was my own breath. it was eerie.

the hallway was lined with white doors, all of which had gold doorknobs and tiny bronze labels.

“serj?” i said in a normal voice.

i wandered around for a few minutes, catching my breath.

suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around my torso and tackled me onto the ground.

i landed flat on my palms with a thud. a thin layer of carpet was all that covered the concrete floor beneath us.

i whipped my body around and saw serj towering next to me, sitting on his knees. he poked my sides and torso mercilessly now that i was basically defenseless.

i squealed, pushing him away by the shoulders. serj just grinned and watched as i flopped around, trying to escape his friendly torture.

my knee collided with the jewels between his legs on accident, and he immediately froze and collapsed next to me with a loud wince.

i desperately scrambled to get back on my feet while serj laid on the ground in a fetal position, groaning and wailing.

“fuck, man, jesus…” he whined, holding himself.

“i’m sorry,” i exhaled in a laugh. i fell to sit down next to him. “it was an accident. i’m sorry.”

“you fucking owe me for that,” he grumbled, his face smushed against the rough carpet floor.

“it was an accident!” i laughed, nudging him.

he laid on the floor, still and silent as i calmed down from laughing. i just stared at him, listening to his breathing in the dead silent hallway.

“i’m sorry,” i said softly, shrinking in my position. i played with my fingernails, waiting for a response.

serj inhaled and rose to his feet, holding his hand out for me to take so he could help me up as well. i grabbed it and he pulled me back up to stand.

once i was on my feet, i felt my heart leap after realizing how close he was to me. the hallway was tight as it is, but we were way closer together than we should’ve been.

i took a step back out of a panicked instinct. serj just smiled at me. what was he thinking?

i didn’t move. i just stared at him. maybe he knew i wasn’t going to go anywhere without him.

“are you okay?” i asked quietly, shooting a glance at his previously devastated junk.

“no,” he said. “i cannot believe you would do this to me.”

i knew he was joking. i rolled my eyes and pushed him away, laughing. he nudged me back.

in response, i nudged him back, then he nudged me again. i then grabbed his arms and aggressively pushed him, pinning him against the wall with a thud.

“ouch,” he exhaled, looking at me with a shocked grin. i didn’t back away and he didn’t fight back. “what was that for?” he asked quietly.

“for being mean,” i huffed.

“i’m being mean?” he laughed.

“yes, you are.” i confirmed, laughing. “i thought you were genuinely hurt.”

“i am, thank you very much,” serj argued lightheartedly. “you’re lucky i won’t do it to you too.”

would i let him do that to me? probably. i would probably like it.

“does it still hurt?” i asked him.

“of course it still hurts!” he laughed.

serj immediately shut his mouth as i leaned in closer, sliding my hands up his arms. i swallowed nervously before speaking. “want me to rub it better?” i asked, sticking my lip out.

a harsh swallow slid down his throat. he anxiously glanced down both ends of the quiet hallway before responding.

“how about a kiss?” he suggested, squirming between me and the wall behind him.

“that’s all you want?” i asked.

“no, i mean- you know what i mean,” he said, nudging me.

“i don’t think i do,” i teased him, trying to bury a smirk.

serj scoffed and rolled his eyes. i loved getting on his nerves like this.

“you are so annoying,” he stated, gently pushing me away. he began to walk away from me, so i reached for his hand, but instead, accidentally grabbed his damp white tank top,

“you said i owed you,” i reminded him. “let me pay you back.”

serj gnawed on the inside of his cheek in thought. he glanced at his watch to check how much time we had left.

after another second or two, he inhaled deeply and stepped closer to me, placing a hand on the small of my back. he pulled me closer by the waist and pressed a shy, tender kiss into my lips.

my body froze up in shock from the feeling of it, but i eventually melted and kissed him back. he pulled away briefly just so he could kiss me again, moving his hands to gently caress each side of my face.

i felt like i was floating. his kisses were gentle and left me completely breathless, and hungry for more. our friendship was completely out the window now, but i didn’t care.

before he could kiss me again, i stopped him. “do you want me to beat you off, or no?” i whispered, genuinely curious.

serj perked his head up to look down the hallway again, before pulling my face into his chest.

i saw his large hand slide onto the doorknob of one of the doors next to us. slowly, he twisted his wrist to check if it would open, and once it did so, he quickly pulled me inside and locked the door behind us.

the room was dark and lit only by the light shining from outside, beneath the door.

“will you take me?” serj whispered. “in your mouth?”

i couldn’t see his face, but i stared straight in front of me, assuming that it was him.

i wanted to. i wanted to know what he tasted like and feel how big he was in comparison to my mouth. but i’d only ever given head once, and i couldn’t make them finish, so i didn’t want to risk embarrassing myself to serj like that.

“not today,” i breathed.

“okay,” he agreed, sounding slightly disappointed. i blindly ran my fingers through his hair in reassurance.

we never bothered turning the lights on. it was more exciting. especially when i heard the buckle of his belt jangling as he somewhat frantically removed the snug piece of leather from his hips.

i took a step closer and nuzzled my forehead into the crook of his warm neck. i could only barely see the outline of his erection from what little light we had allowed in the room. from what i could see, he looked to be a decent size, on the bigger side.

he made a few strokes with his own hand, before i lowered it and took it in mine. i could have sworn i’d heard the smallest, meekest of whimpers escape his throat once i held him.

his tool was warm and the skin was smooth. i felt his large hand gently grasp both my hand and his dick at the same time, before he began guiding my hand up and down the base slowly.

“you’ve done this before, right?” he asked me.

“not to you,” i said, wearing a smirk that was heavily present in my tone.

“well, duh,” he laughed. his laugh then turned into a blissful sigh, and his body relaxed against the door behind him. suddenly he gasped and stopped my hand for a moment.

“jesus,” he exhaled, laughing slightly.

“what’s wrong?” i asked, loosening my grip on the base.

“i’m really sensitive now,” he laughed sheepishly. “‘cause you hit me.”

“i said i was sorry,” i reminded him, gently tracing the root of his dick with my thumb.

“i know,” he said, kissing my face. i think he was going for my lips, but he landed somewhere on my cheek instead. all i felt was his facial hair brush against my skin. “i’m just not used to it. go gentle on me.”

i kissed his cheek and came closer to his body. he wrapped his arms around me, and i wrapped my hand softly around his base. i buried my face into his neck, kissing his skin tenderly.

all i could hear was his breathing. he held in every possible sound he could make, holding his breath.

“serj,” i hummed.

“hmm?” he hummed back.

“you’re so quiet…” i whispered.

he remained quiet, waiting for me to continue.

“i wanna hear how you i’m making you feel,” i told him, subtly increasing the speed of my strokes. i lifted my head to look up at him.

my eyes adjusted more to the darkness and i could make out his face. one of his hands began to guide mine as he spoke, while the other caressed my waist he leaned closer to me, bringing his mouth close to my ear. “you can go faster,” he said quietly.

i sped up the movement of my hand, following his. i squeezed him lightly and heard him gasp. the hand that held my waist pulled me closer, causing his warm tip to firmly press into my stomach.

my chest grazed his and our faces were too close for us to look at each other anymore.

i lifted my free hand to caress his neck, running my fingers through the soft roots of his thick hair, balling it into a fist to tug on it slightly.

i finally earned a soft moan from him as i did so. my heart fluttered and the pit of my stomach lit on fire as the pleasured sigh escaped his throat.

“rub the tip… here,” serj instructed, placing my hand a bit higher up on the length of his tool. “yeah…”

i picked up the pace, and almost instantly felt a small spurt of precum smear onto my skin.

serj began to let his pleasured sighs escape him freely. they were dry and raspy due to his sore voice, but i loved it.

suddenly, his breath hitched and his entire body tensed up. “r-right there… that spot…” he exhaled. “rub it i-in circles…”

i followed his instructions, tracing circles in the skin beneath his tip with the pad of my thumb, with enough pressure to drag the skin around as well.

serj whimpered, slowly letting go of my hand and letting me take the wheel. i leaned forward and pressed my tongue against the skin of his neck; it was warm and i could taste the sweat that previously covered his entire body. i gently dragged my tongue up his neck, before pulling away with his skin in between my teeth.

“fuck,” he whined, tilting his head to open up the space on his neck. i ran my free hand down his torso and gently tucked my fingers under the hem of his tank top, caressing his hip. “just a-a bit faster… m-more…”

i continued to leave a hickey in the crook of his jaw, matching the pace with that of my hand as i increased it. soon enough, i felt his hips buck into my hands and his oblique muscles tense rapidly. serj groaned and pulled my waist closer again.

“you can cum on my stomach,” i whispered, leaning into his tip with my entire torso. it was firm against my body and poked me pretty hard, but i loved it.

almost immediately, serj let out a series of curses and high-pitched whimpers, before hitching his breath as i felt him spill out all over my stomach.

his entire orgasm lasted pretty long, at least from what i was used to. i didn’t mind it, though.

“it feels better now,” he laughed breathlessly, resting his forehead on my shoulder. “you have a healing touch.”

i chuckled and wrapped my arms around his neck. “can we talk later?” i asked him. “about, just, you know, you and me?”

“of course,” he exhaled, kissing me gently. “what are you, uh, gonna do about this?”

serj gestured to my stomach, in reference to the mess of his cum that my skin was covered in. i was wearing a short crop top, so none of it got on my clothes.

“um, this is gonna sound weird, but i just… kinda want to, i don’t know… play with it…?” i mumbled.

“you’re gonna play with my cum?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

i nodded, looking down at the mess on my skin. i wiped some of it off onto my index finger. it was pretty thick and rich, but smeared more on my skin than it came off. it was somewhat sticky, and had a sort of gooey consistency when i pulled my fingertip away from it.

i looked up at him through my brows and sucked my index finger clean. serj palmed my face with his entire hand and pushed me away. “don’t do that. you’re gonna make me hard again and i have to go back on in… 3 minutes,” he told me.

i pushed his hand away from my face and we both shared soft laughter. he tucked himself back in his boxers and began to put his belt back on, before i stopped him.

“i want your belt,” i said, grabbing the piece of leather. serj just stared at me, before pulling the belt off and placing it in my hands.

“take this too,” he huffed, lifting up one foot to remove his sneaker, then his sock.

i held the piece of fabric with my fingertips, cringing at it. “for what?” i asked him, deeply confused.

“use it as a rag,” he laughed at me, putting his sneaker back on his bare foot. “or a pillow, if you’re into that.”

“god, no!” i cringed, hitting him with his sock. “jesus, do you even know me?!”

“i’m just kidding, relax. i’ll see you later,” he said, unlocking the door.

as soon as he opened the door and the light shone in the room, i could see the big, bright red bruise on his neck very clearly. i snorted back a laugh and poked him in the stomach. “good luck explaining that,” i said, pointing to his neck.

“good luck explaining yourself,” he shot back, gesturing to my own stomach. as he turned his back to me to walk off, i grabbed his wrist with my free hand. “hey, wait,” i started.

serj turned around and i quickly kissed him. “see you,” i hummed after pulling away.

he smiled at me with a big grin, repeating my words to me, before disappearing down the long, quiet white corridor.