#The screams really spice up a boring day

[masquenoire]

"It's your birthday, too? Well... happy birthday!"

"Same to you, though I sure hope you've been having a good day..." How nice they shared a birthday! His own special day hasn't been too terrible; putting some shmuck through a round of torture always put Roman in a good mood, though he strongly doubted she'd find similar appeal.

[adventuringblind]

Misheard, Misjudged

Lando Norris x Leclerc Reader

Genre: Angst with a pinch of spice

Summary: Lando overhears a conversation and thinks it’s about him

Warnings: Lando’s self-esteem plummets

Notes: I’m aware I have things to do but I’m doing a friend a favor

Masterlist

Lando and the little Leclerc are everybody’s favorite couple. He clings to her every second of every day and she gets livid when her brother call her little. Younger then Arthur by a minute and she never hears the end of it.

Their families love them, the fans love them, but most importantly is that they love each other.

They met when Arthur started racing again. She was bored without her partner in crime, so Charles took her on as is social media manager. Needles to say they banter a lot. Charles’ fashion choices are horrendous at times but she loves him nonetheless.

Charles teases them all the time about how they are practically glued together. Which is probably true, considering they are like magnets in the paddock.

So in Lando’s head, it makes no sense why she would say such things about him. In their home. With her friends.

‘Sure he’s good looking, but like - is there really anything else? He’s so childish and whines like a bitch. Also, have you seen how clingy he is?”

He couldn’t listen anymore after that. Is he really that clingy? And for all intensive purposes, isn’t she also clingy? He never thought it was that bad. Sure, people tease, but who cares what they think? Or, maybe he’s just overthinking and he should just ask about it.

Scratch that - a terrible plan. Instead he shall withdrawal himself and see if it makes her happier.

The first week she looks confused and a little hurt by his actions, but she doesn’t say anything. No more initiated physical contact. No random hugs and kisses. He doesn’t cling to her during the race weekend like normal.

See! He isn’t cling! if anything, she’s definitely the more clingy one out of the two.

Week two hurt more then the first. He catches snippets of a few phone calls between her and Charles. She’s locked in the bathroom and her voice is cracking. “I don’t understand what I did, Charlie.”

Doesn’t understand what she did? You can’t just say things about a person and expect everything to be okay after. Why doesn’t she talk to him about it? If she wanted more space he would’ve just rather have talked about it then have overheard the love of his life shattering his heart into pieces.

He turns her back to her in bed starting week three. She looks tired over the next few days. Not just yawning, but the dark circles under red eyes screams that something is wrong.

she starts leaving sticky notes on his things, on the counters, the insides of cabinets, and even plastered all over thee mirror.

He ignores them. Yet his mind starts to wonder if maybe he should just ask her why. But it’s not like she talked to him, so why she he talk to her now?

He wonders again when he catches Max glaring at him.

And again when Oscar grows concerned.

And then when George gives a PowerPoint presentation with how to communicate properly.

Yeah, ok - so this wasn’t the right way to go about this. He really wishes George and his stupid PowerPoint had come earlier.

The icing on the cake is when he comes home one day and passes Charles as he’s leaving. He doesn’t look happy at all, and honestly, Lando can’t blame him.

He goes straight to bed, face buried in the pillow. Limbs tossed dramatically like a Disney princess in despair.

“Lando?” Her small voice shreds every ounce of strength he has left. She sits on the bed beside him. He doesn’t look up and she sighs heavily. “Please talk to me.”

When he does finally look at her. Truly, for the first time in months, he sees just how broken she looks.

“What’s there to talk about?” He curses himself and his tone because she flinches away at it.

“Why are you avoiding me? I don’t understand what I did…”

He scoffs. “Don’t know what you did? Last month at your little get together? Calling me a clingy whiny bitch behind my back?” He chokes on the last part.

She looks at him, head tilted in confusion. The same look she gives when he’s trying to read directions. Confused, loving, patient. Why is she smiling?

“You didn’t hear the beginning of that did you?”

“No.” He pouts.

“Lando, love, light of my life - that was about Charles.”

His entire body freezes. It’s true that her friends like Charles and she hates when the fawn over him. Oh, he’s been an idiot. An Absolute asshole.

“I’m so sorry.” He throws himself at her and every ounce of anxiety over the past month is washed away as soon as her fingertips touch his skin.

“Charles is terribly clingy to everybody and he’s my brother. Of course he’s a whiny bitch in my eyes.” He would respond but his brain is mush at her hands in his hair.

“I just got so in my head. I’m so sorry I didn’t talk to you - George gave me the whole lecture about proper communication.”

“I Know. He said you were hopeless.”

“How encouraging of him.”

Lando pulls her on top of him. Her warmth, her skin, her full body weight is everything he ever needs to survive.

“I can’t believe you’re smiling at me.”

“I’m mad at you, but maybe we can make up.” She raises her eyes suggestively.

“I think I can make that happen.”

[inkspiredwriting]

The Great Birthday Present Hunt

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: Klaus being Klaus ;)

Five Hargreeves prided himself on his precision and efficiency, but shopping for a birthday present for his wife Y/N was proving to be a challenge. He wanted to get her something special, something that showed how much he cared. Realizing he needed help, he reluctantly turned to his brother Klaus.

Klaus, ever the enthusiast for anything involving fun and chaos, eagerly accepted the mission. "Alright, Five! Let's find the perfect gift for Y/N. And maybe have a little adventure along the way."

Five sighed, knowing this was going to be a long day. "Let's just try to focus, Klaus. Y/N deserves the best."

They started their quest at the local mall, an unfamiliar battleground for Five but a well-known haunt for Klaus.

The first stop was a jewelry store. Five pointed to a delicate necklace. "What about this? It’s elegant and beautiful, just like Y/N."

Klaus tilted his head, scrutinizing the piece. "Sure, but it’s kind of boring, don’t you think? Y/N is unique. We need something that screams, 'I thought long and hard about this!'"

Five rolled his eyes. "Fine. What do you suggest?"

Klaus’s eyes lit up. "Leave it to me!"

They moved to a quirky gift shop filled with unusual items. Klaus picked up a bizarre-looking sculpture of a cat wearing sunglasses. "How about this? It’s funky and fun!"

Five gave him a withering look. "Y/N isn’t a fan of kitsch. Let’s try to find something more meaningful."

Next, they wandered into a bookstore. Five’s eyes brightened. "Y/N loves to read. Maybe we could find a rare edition of her favorite book."

Klaus nodded approvingly. "Now you’re talking! But let’s spice it up a bit. How about we get a rare book and then hide little notes inside it, like a treasure hunt?"

Five considered it, a smile tugging at his lips. "That’s actually... a good idea. But we need to find the right book."

After browsing the shelves, they found a beautiful vintage edition of Y/N’s favorite novel. Five paid for the book, feeling more confident about their choice.

As they were leaving, Klaus spotted a toy store and couldn’t resist dragging Five inside. "Wait! We need to get something fun too. How about a giant teddy bear?"

Five frowned. "A teddy bear? Really, Klaus?"

Klaus grinned. "Come on, Five. Everyone loves a giant teddy bear. It’ll make her laugh!"

Against his better judgment, Five found himself agreeing. They picked out the biggest, fluffiest bear in the store and somehow managed to carry it out to the car.

Finally, they stopped at a craft store. Klaus had one last idea. "Let’s make a scrapbook of all your adventures together. It’ll be personal and heartfelt."

Five nodded, appreciating the sentiment. They gathered supplies and headed back home, where they spent the evening compiling photos, ticket stubs, and little mementos into a scrapbook.

On Y/N’s birthday, Five presented the gifts with a mix of nervousness and excitement. First, the vintage book with hidden notes. Y/N’s eyes sparkled with delight as she read the messages Five had written.

Next, the giant teddy bear. Y/N laughed, hugging the bear and shaking her head. "This is ridiculous, but I love it."

Finally, the scrapbook. Y/N flipped through the pages, tears of joy welling up in her eyes. "This is perfect. Thank you, Five. And thank you, Klaus."

Klaus bowed dramatically. "Anything for my favorite sister-in-law!"

As the day turned to evening, Five pulled Klaus aside. "Thanks for your help, Klaus. You actually had some good ideas."

Klaus grinned. "Anytime, brother. Just remember, the best presents are the ones that come from the heart. And maybe involve a little chaos."

Five laughed, realizing that sometimes, a bit of Klaus’s madness was exactly what he needed. And as he watched Y/N’s face light up with happiness, he knew they had found the perfect presents after all.

[fillinforlater]

The Gamer and the Pornstar

Male Reader x Miyawaki Sakura, Song Hayoung

Length: 3725 words

Tags: one-night-stand turned porn turned friendship, gaming buddies, shy yet prepared, ANAL, missionary, GAPING, anal creampie, slow sex, love making, SLW, making out, extremely loud moaning, cumshots?

TW: barely edited, kind of rushed

Inspiration: @gangplanksorenji and @praeluxius because you know: GAPE KKURA and SLW gang

(A/N: This popped up in my mind and for some reason was easier to write than all my other drafts. An almost plotless mess mess mess mess mess, but I hope you enjoy it.)

“Hey, you wanna come over?”

It all started a couple of months ago, when an adorable young lady tapped on your shoulder. Her name was Hayoung and she immediately started to shower you with compliments. Your body's imminent reaction was to blush and increase your heart rate, but after a while you assumed there was a catch. Your intuition was right.

“Thank you for all the kind words,” you said. “But I bet you’re not doing this just to brighten my day at this boring-ass party.”

“You’re right,” Hayoung responds with a huge smile on her small face. “Let me be blunt—”

Oh, she was blunt. Hayoung, you see, is a self-made porn star, using a brand new site called Only Fans to promote her lewd, addictive videos (her words). However, she needs to spice things up, try different sizes and girths in her holes, so she is going around and finding attractive guys who’d like to help her (once again, her words).  

Hayoung, pretty and pure looking, it all changed with every new word dropping from her lips like the pin of a grenade before she exploded onto you, arms wrapped around your nape, her lips on yours. You turned into the Flash: in the blink of an eye you found yourself in her apartment, balls deep in her cunt, surrounded by two cameras. Hayoung loved to moan and scream over the top, the neighborhood surely knew of her new hobby right from the get go, and she had them all inside her (her words, her stupidly lewd words). 

Needless to say, you had a great time, and after wrapping up the shooting, you wanted to leave the apartment. The mind-blowing sex with Hayoung really had your mind blown, because instead of taking the exit, you entered another bedroom. Hayoung was sharing the apartment with someone else, a poor roommate who had to listen to the endless amounts of sex coming from the walls behind her.

To block off all the noise she was wearing a large headset and her entire focus was on this game, League of Legends. You were familiar with the game and started watching her. She must not have noticed you, even when you inched closer as the game got more intense. Her defense was on point, the towers did not fall until one of her chips-grease covered fingers slipped off and she eventually lost.

Both of you sighed—and then she started screaming as she finally noticed your presence. That’s how you met Sakura.

“I’ll be there in 10.”

#

You put your ear on the door. No screaming, no moaning. Either Hayoung is trying out choking or a ball gag or she is not shooting anything today. The last one is the least likely, yet you still give it a shot and knock a couple of times. Quick taps of tiny feet can be heard.

“Hello you guys—oh, it’s just you,” she sighs in disappointment, the horniness on her face vanishing in a moment's notice.

“Nice to see you, Hayoung,” you sarcastically respond and make your way past the small girl. “I see, you’re waiting for someone.”

“Yeah, but not for you. You’re only hanging around with Sakura-unnie all the damn time.”

“Hey! I thought you wanted to try new cocks all the time.”

Before you can reach the door to Sakura’s room, Hayoung grabs your wrist and stamps your foot. It does not hurt one bit, as her feet are naked (to be honest, she is almost fully naked, except for shorts that barely cover 80% of her ass and a bikini top to show of her small breasts) and you’re still wearing shoes.

“That does not mean you couldn’t be useful to me,” Hayoung whispers sultrily, her fingers fiddling with your zipper, pulling it down and up. 

“I think I’ll pass for now. Don’t wanna keep your Unnie waiting,” you respond and remove her hand without resisting the temptation to feel more of the silky smooth skin on her arm.

“If you’re not gonna undress for me, at least take off your shoes for her.”

“S-sure, sorry.”

Kick them off then kick in the door. The way Sakura jumps always amuses you. Her shocked expression with huge, round eyes and a wide open mouth is just gold.

"Stop doing that!" she shouts and quickly turns back to her game. Sakura looks tiny in the gaming chair, the black fabric swallowing both her pale skin and white outfit. Her raven hair is a tangled mess, weaving through every possible opening of her pink headphones. 

"How is it going?" you ask and lean onto the table, something she despises and you know that. Luckily, there are no more snacks next to her colorful keyboard. Living off of chips and chocolate could have really ruined her health, so you had to help her get rid of this habit.

What she won't get rid of is the large bottle of Pepsi. You tried to convince her of drinking water, but she wouldn’t budge a centimeter on that. Even Pepsi Maxx seems to be a no-go for her, so the dark, sugary liquid still sits on her table—until you close the lit and hide it behind your back.

“Put it back,” Sakura barks, eyes switching in between your face and the match in rapid intervals. She taps her feet in annoyance, you grin.

“Only if you answer me~” you tease her.

“It’s been going good, until you joined. We are four thousand gold ahead, everything is working, so please, don’t ruin this for me.”

You put your hands up in defeat and place the bottle back down. Then everything happens rather quickly: Sakura stands up and you immediately get on her chair, spread your legs far enough so the japanese girl can get in between them and she does so. Just a second, Sakura’s rhythm is not interrupted as the team fight starts. 

“Let’s get it,” you whisper, while Sakura still adjusts herself on your lap. The two of you, though there might be a lot of bickering on the outside, have become a coordinated team. After that fateful incident a couple of months ago, you came over more often to watch Sakura play. She was very talented, but her erratic behavior has led to her losing games she should have won, so you started to assist her.

Sakura sits on your lap. This has multiple reasons. One is that you can easily hand her something to drink while she still has both her hands occupied with the game. The second is that you can easily grab her and keep her down when she has one of her outbursts again. Sakura is used to jumping up from her chair and then lose control and focus on her character. To prevent that, you can hold her light frame down. The final reason is that after a while, Sakura finds your lap more comfortable than the chair. 

Why did you agree to taming this small lioness during her gaming sessions? For starters, Sakura is gorgeous. Her face, her body, everything is pretty and basically perfect, Who wouldn’t like to have her sit on their lap? Then comes her impeccable smell. Ever since you got rid of the greasy snacks, Sakura’s true odor of sweet sweat and even sweeter cherries has you in a dazed state.

This is your favorite job. You can’t help but smile stupidly while handing Sakura another drink or adjusting her posture, while watching an intense match of your favorite game. It’s literally perfect. If only someone could turn down the volume of Hayoungs porny moans coming from her room—who are you kidding, she sounds hot. 

“Okay, let’s go to the base. Thirty more seconds of buff, go go!”

Sakura is winning. You try everything in your power to keep it that way. Your hands find their way to her slim waist, holding it firmly so she doesn’t stand up. On some days, she wears a crop top, exposing her amazing midriff, which makes holding onto her like an ascend to heaven. Sadly, she only wears a pretty, yet modest dress so you have to live with feeling silk rather than silky skin.

“A couple more hits, come one!” 

Wrap your arms around Sakura as she almost flies off the chair in enthusiasm. Even as her teammates die at the hits of the enemy, she is able to close out the game with fantastic gameplay. Although you could let her go the second she closed out the game, you still hold her tight and she falls backwards onto your chest.

“Good job, Kkura,” you say with a smile as she struggles to get her headphones off. Her messy black hair falls over her face like drapes and the way she frees her vision is beyond beautiful. Sakura is a goddess, she plays, looks and smells like one. 

“You weren’t so bad either. Thank you,” she responds and stays. She does not stand up or shift away. She stays in your tight embrace. 

“S-so shall we—”

“Fuck, yes! Fill my pussy with your big cocks, ah!”

You can feel your cheeks burning. Sakura’s are doing the same. Hayoungs never ending screams of pleasure make the two of you tense up in awkwardness. You’d love to say something witty, but everything feels so wrong, especially with how your fantasy leaps into dangerous territory.

“Sh-she is unbelievable,” Sakura laughs awkwardly. “She said something about inviting t-t-ten guys a-and… yeah.”

“She is crazy.”

More silence from you and Sakura, while a whole choir of guys starts to groan in the background, only interrupted by Hayoungs demand for rougher, faster, deeper sex.

“Yes, fuck my ass! Stretch my hole with your—yes, right there! I’m cumming!”

Sakura melts in your grip. The word cumming has her dazed, you can see it in her expression when she looks up at you. Her round, puppy eyes have narrowed in desire and you feel her butt rub over your crotch, intentionally feeling more of your cock and making it erect.

“I-I always wondered,” she suddenly whispers, unable to hold eye contact with you. “How this w-would feel.”

“How what f-feels?” you ask her, unable to focus as she suddenly starts to face you and reveals a lot of cleavage. Wait, is she even wearing a—

“L-like… ha-having sex in th-the—

“In my b-butt…”

You have never seen Sakura so abashed, so uncertain about something. She looks fragile, a shy girl who is incapable of asking for what she really wants because it’s so lewd, so wrong. At the same time, she is already all over you, not even wearing a bra. Her hands are on your chest, you can easily pull her closer, yet your heart forces you to ask away.

“Why… why are you thinking that?”

“I-I just wondered because… when I lost my vi-virginity… Hayoung showed me how to ride th-this guy. My-my first was not that big, b-but Hayoung couldn’t stop. I-it was very… and then he put it in her… butt.”

Sakura hides her flushed face, but continues nonetheless.

“I have never s-seen a girl c-cum s-so hard.”

“So… you want to t-try it?” you carefully ask, hands still on her waist, eyes fixed on the opening of her dress. Her small, bare breasts with dark pink areolae look like a feast and her also small, not (yet) bare waist fits perfectly into your hands.

Sakura peeks through the gaps in between her fingers and takes deep breaths. “Yes, I want to try it. With you. I-I don’t want to wait any longer, please… say yes.”

You try not to smile stupidly and carefully nod. Sakura lowers both her hands, one weakly squeezes the growing bulge in your pants, while the other reaches for her drawer. In it you eye a surprising amount of condoms, douching devices and lube containers. Sakura reaches for one of them. 

“D-don’t worry,” she stutters. “I did s-some preparation.”

“Can I see?” you ask without thinking. Rationale is a steadily decreasing factor in your decision making, especially because Hayoung continues to moan with all the power her vocal cords have. She could have been a great singer—

“S-sure.” Sakura gets off of you and reaches underneath her dress. She pulls down slutty, soaked panties that only Hayoung would wear (if she wears any underwear at all). Hesitantly, she spins around and her fingers dig into the hem of her dress, her knuckles turning white.

“You don’t have to, you know?” you chuckle and take the container before any of the clear liquid will be spilled out through Sakura’s digits. Your attempt to relieve her of some pressure seems laughable with Hayoung’s crescendo reaching yet another overhyped climax.

“No!” Sakura rebuts, a pull sending her dress up and exposing her most private part, a smooth, shaven nether region and a firm, spreadable butt. Why spreadable? Because even a somewhat timid Sakura can’t help but pull apart her ass cheeks to show you what’s in between. “My-my fingers, the toys—they are not enough. I-I need you.”

Your cock threatens to break through your pants at the sight, the smell, the absurdity. Is this the b-plot to Hayoung’s porn? A slow burn scene only now reaching its final destination? Things developing at a snail's pace and now the tip of your fingers are almost in her flesh and your tip is almost in her lubed rear end? You can’t complain about this movie. 

“Now?” you ask, a final stern facade to hide your desire.

“Yes, please,” Sakura’s last, final, ultimate whimper, her lower lip tucked underneath her teeth in a bite to sever all doubts—

Wrap an arm around Sakura, her slutty little waist perfect in your hold before you let go and send her backwards on her bed. The disconnect between your bodies is not for long; one hand is already hiking up her dress further, the other is in her marvelous strands while your knees only start to make contact with the mattress.

Sakura sinks back, laying down into her pillows and your hands exploring everywhere but her stimulating spots, yet your touch and longing alone make her feel a bliss that numbs her feet, her legs, her arms. They all become idle as you spread apart her knees and get in between them, still fully clothed. 

When your lips suddenly initiate a feverish attack on her jaw, she can’t hold back. More of you, more of you—her dizzy eyes jump open and her fingers find ways to permanently reveal your body. Your bare chest is only a breath away from hers, her crotch almost on yours. You smile down at her.

“You want me this badly, Kkura~?” you tease and rub a circle on her thigh with your stupidly hard cockhead. Sakura’s soles swirl in the air, her entire body flooding with heat.

“Be careful, please.”

Her fingers sneak to her ass once more, this time showing off exactly where she wants it. The puckered entrance is not only clean, hell, even prepared would be an understatement to how inviting her hole is. Sure, the pussy above it looks fabulous, oh-so tempting to fill up and make endless love to, but the there is an unbridled thrill to the way Sakura’s asshole lightly clenches and relaxes and clenches and relaxes and—

Align yourself. Stop yourself. Sakura’s lips tremble more than the rest of her small frame. Place your elbows on each side of her head to gaze at her beauty, maybe find out what’s wrong by the glassiness of her eyes. 

“Kiss me already,” she husks.

“But I want to see your face while I do it,” you whisper.

Sakura mewls, all ten of her sweaty fingers on your lower back as she locks eyes with you. No further instructions, this is where all your knowledge ends and you can only act due to instinct. Push your hips forward, slowly, but with force to get your swollen tip into the tight hole. 

Sakura’s lips part wide open, her eyes are even wider. Her short, yet pointy nails find their way under your skin, creating a pool of pain in your lower back that you have to push through. The way she wraps snuggly around your cock negates all the pain elsewhere. Half way in, you grit your teeth and see Sakura doing the same. She is certainly in pain.

“Relax,” you whisper between profound breaths.

“K-kiss me!” she demands and you let your face finally sink to hers. In wanton need she offers her tongue and you take it for a ride, pushing it around in her mouth in a tornado-like kiss. The torrential pace tears out tension from Sakura’s body, first her limbs, then her face and finally, her insides relax. It’s a gradual process in which you become well acquainted with Sakura’s mouth, making it entirely yours.

“You feel so good,” you compliment her when your lips disconnect. “Did I ever tell you that—”

“Shh, not now,” Sakura interjects with a smile. “C-can you start… now?”

“Sure~”

For the first time since the initial penetration, you move your hips backwards, dragging your cock alongside Sakura’s lubed walls. It’s a lewd sound, a sound only the two of you can hear because Hayoung once again trumps it with her scream, though there is clearly a cock in her mouth. 

When only your tip remains inside her, you gently grab her tiny waist and begin to both push in and pull her towards you. Sakura melts into the mattress, her sweaty body becoming one with it, one with yours when you gradually fill her with more of your inches. You stop before the final one and the two of you groan straight into the other's face, eyes closed, deeply satisfied.

Or not?

“M-more,” Sakura whispers, one of her arms loosely around your nape, the other moving over her midriff to her pussy. “I want all of you.”

And you want all of her all over your dick. So you push in, further than any of her toys, girthy, pulsating; you’re close to losing your mind over her incredible body and marvelous insides. Sakura gets everything she asked for, your sack is already crazing her buttocks and in a drawn out moan, you know that she does not regret asking. 

“Kkura, I can’t—”

“D-don’t stop, fill me aga—”

She gives you a hint of permission and you take it. Like her body is just a light fleshlight, you take her slutty little waist and slam her slutty little asshole on your length to force screams from her slutty little mouth. You want Sakura to succumb to the same pleasure as you, yet she still finds a way to give you more leverage, an easier time to fuck her rear end. 

Hayoung’s porny sounds are nothing anymore to the sheer lewdness of you pistoning back and forth along lubed walls and Sakura rubbing her clit manically. You and Sakura suddenly start to lick all over the other person. It’s devouring the other without hurting them, consuming more of them without having to stop the grabbing and thrusting, both increasing their pace. 

There is a perfect rhythm, which is no rhythm at all. Switch from slow thrusts and biting her collarbone to stopping it all together and just feeling her flex and struggle around to suddenly go all out for dozens of hits that make her eyes disappear in the back of her head. Sakura is the same, her fingers rubbing her clit then two of them disappearing into her pussy for a quick double penetration, before suddenly invading your mouth. She tastes even better than she smells. Impossible.

“I’m—”

Sakura’s moan is cut short by you jerking her clit side to side. Her orgasm pulsates through her body, initiated from both her deeply penetrated asshole and her continuously flicked nub. To your surprise, she is rather quiet, unlike her roommate who never stops shouting out her pleasure. Sakura instead goes for your lips, loving biting your lower lip, evoking groans out of you. 

You realize there is nowhere to go, it’s either you cum now or you’ll be painfully blueballed, so you fold Sakura further, slam down harder and watch her narrow eyes release tears of pleasure. Everything goes quiet, except for skin slapping on skin and you groaning your final words right into her ear:

“F-fuck, I’ll fill you up, Kkura. I’m gon—”

Your vision blurs to white lick a bad transition during a powerpoint presentation. You feel Sakura’s butt squeezing out your sperm in multiple massive dumps that make her warm deep inside. But that’s not the only thing she squeezes tightly: her arms are wrapped around your upper body, forcing it onto her sweaty tits and you want to mold into her, to become one. 

Only after your final droplet of cum is inside Sakura’s ass, you slowly pull and while caressing her buttocks, you feel a lot of you running out of her. She giggles in embarrassment.

“Gu-guess you spread me pretty good.”

“Ye-yeah.”

You can’t help yourself but look at the mess you made out of her hole. It’s utterly gaped, endlessly oozing your load onto the bedsheets with her body only supported by your arms on her thighs. 

“That was great,” Sakura sighs, still out of breath. “We need to clean up though.”

Suddenly, someone goes apeshit on Sakura’s door, banging it like the drumset of a metal band.

“Hey! Hey! I know you’re inside there! I need your help, quick!” Hayoung shouts at the top of her lungs. It baffles you how she still can after all the ‘performing’ she’s been doing in the last couple of minutes.

“Uhm… bad timing,” you respond and quickly cover Sakura with a blanket. “U-unless the house is burning down, I won’t open this—”

“I need someone to cum on me, for a cumshot scene! I know you have one in you for me, please, quick!” Hayoung begs. In front of your inner eye you can see her, glazed in cum running down her entire lewd body, yet there is one part of her face not yet properly covered. Maybe one of the guy shot blanks—

You look at Sakura, her gaping hole, your thick creamy load on the bed sheets. 

Yeah, you won’t be of any help for her today.

[ilongfor-the-arts]

A REQUEST FOR LIP PLEASEEE!! him getting hammered in a party then he calls you to rescue him or smth then you gotta drag him and drive him back home. he asks you sleep over and you stayed! thats basically my idea u can develop it however u like <333 can be fluff alone or added w a bit of spice🤭 but we’ll enjoy it nevertheless

Drunk Mind, Sober Heart

Pairing: Lip Gallagher x fem! Reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, angst (nothing happens bc Lip is drunk), dirty talk, language

Summary: *in req*

Word Count: 2.5k

An ear splitting noise startled me awake. I shot up, my eyes flinging open, only to discover that my bedroom was completely dark.

Was that my alarm?

No, there is no way in hell it was eight in the morning already.

I groaned in frustration and reached for my bedside table. As my eyes adjusted, I ran my palm along the smooth wood, my bedroom gradually coming into view. Unfortunately, my vision was not properly adjusted to perceive the small black box. My hand pushed a mysterious object, and a soft thud echoed.

“Shit!”

I exclaimed. I threw my torso off the bed and inspected the carpeted floor for my phone.

Whoever was calling me at this hour was gonna get it.

When I realized I didn't have much time before the call went to voicemail, I quickened my pace, grunting from the unexpected effort.

“Yes!”

The artificial glow burned into my retinas as I flipped the phone over to expose the screen. I was forced to squint so I could see who had the audacity to call me at such an inconvenient hour.

I rolled my eyes.

Of fucking course.

With a sour attitude, I accepted the call. I was miffed at Lip for ruining my perfect night of restful sleep.

“What? This better be good Lip, or I’m gonna be really pissed.”

I flopped onto the bed and fixed my gaze on the boring ceiling. On the other end of the line, there was a cacophony of voices and screams. It was so loud that it resembled a roar. To prevent going deaf, I moved the phone a few inches from my ear.

“Heyyyyyy Y/N. How are ya?”

Every syllable lacked clarity. Oh, come on, why did I have to be the one getting booty called tonight? I disregarded his inquiry and instead put forth my own.

“Lip, what time is it?”

I inquired in part to gauge his level of inebriation and in part because I was too sluggish to remove my phone from my ear to check the time.

“Uhhhh- that’s a great question.”

There was rustling from the other end of the line.

“It’s 9 oh 3.”

I cocked a brow.

“You sure about that?”

“Uh-hold on. Gimmie a sec.”

Rustling.

“Do you read from left to right or right to left?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. At the very least, this would make a good story in a few days after I recovered from my extreme sleep deprivation.

“Left to right, at least in English.”

“Okay, thanks. You’re so smart.”

Rustling.

“Okay, it’s 3 oh 9. Well… 3:10 now.”

I tried to shake the sleep from my brain by closing my eyes and gently kneading my soft eyelids.

“That’s just perfect. You do remember me saying I had an 8 am class today, right?”

“Yes I do. I just-I lost my phone, and yours is the-the only phone number I remember.”

He had never been this drunk before. Lip had a very high tolerance for alcohol. The number of drinks he must have consumed to get to this point is beyond my comprehension. His speech was becoming more slurred by the second, almost as if he were nodding off.

I completely ignored the fact that he used his phone to call me. He was comprehending very little at this moment.

“How many drinks have you had, Lip?”

Silence.

“Uh-that’s another great question…”

His voice trailed off. I sure hope he didn't doze off on me.

“Alright Lip, don’t fall asleep.”

I threw myself into a sitting position and switched on the bedside table lamp. The room instantly filled with bright light. My eyes watered. I squinted to accommodate the abrupt change.

“Where are you? I’ll come pick you up.”

I tucked the phone between my shoulder and ear as I reached down to put on my slippers.

“Uh-I don’t know the address.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Alright, well, can you give me any information that could help me find you?”

I stood, the phone pressed to my ear. I threw a light jacket over my shoulders to hide the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra.

“Uh-it’s down the street from an old gas station.”

I knew exactly where he was. There was only one party host who lived next to an old gas station.

“Are you at Christian’s house?”

“No. Well, actually, I don’t know.”

I walked to my front door, shaking my head in disbelief. I plucked my car keys from the wood tray by the door, twirling them between my fingers. The silence that engulfed my apartment complex was deafening compared to the soft jingle.

“I’ll come and get ya’. Just give me ten minutes. Don’t move a muscle.”

“Okay. I’ll be waitin’ for ya on the front lawn.”

“Perfect.”

I drove slowly, not in a hurry to arrive at Christian's house. Lip could handle himself when he was drunk. Sure, he said stupid shit at times, but if I truly believed he was a danger to himself, I would increase my urgency.

Not even a meek flicker of light could be seen in the windows of nearby houses. My car was engulfed in darkness. Everything was pitch black save for a few street lamps that did little to penetrate the gloom. The world was still and silent.

It reminded me of the twilight zone. I was imprisoned in an environment where time did not exist. I was alone. There were no people who could guide me. I was trapped.

That was the impression I had up until I arrived at Christian's house. The street was lined with parked cars. There were sober individuals mixed in with those who were stumbling drunk. Christian’s house was bursting at the seams. People could be seen congregating on the lawn, in the upper windows, shoving their way inside, and shoving their way out. I stopped my car in front of the grass. Sure enough, Lip was standing on the front lawn, gazing at the street with a blank stare.

I giggled. He looked lost.

I opened my car window and protruded my head outside.

“Lip Gallagher! Your chauffeur is here!”

I shouted sarcastically. My joke elicited a few giggles from various partygoers. A stupidly uneven smile appeared on Lip’s face as he awoke from his stupor.

“Oh hi, Y/N! I didn’t even know you were coming!”

“Get in Lip. I’m gonna take you home.”

Lip walked over, nearly tripping ten times in the short distance he had to cover. I laughed at his erratic behavior.

“You're gonna sit in the back, Lip?”

I caught a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror. His head was leaning against the headrest, and his eyes were closed. He looked serene. Lip jerked awake. His half lidded eyes hurriedly scanned the back of my car as if expecting company.

“Uh-no. I’ll sit in the front.”

I anticipated that he would exit the vehicle and move to the front seat. Instead, he launched himself over the center console.

“Jesus Lip!”

I exclaimed, a flurry of limbs obstructing my view. His body relaxed as he sank into the passenger seat.

“That’s better. It’s much more comfortable up here.”

I scoffed and decided not to participate in this pointless conversation.

Lip didn't speak once during the entire drive back to his apartment, which surprised me. His breathing evened out. I could only assume that he had dozed off. His head would softly crash into the window when I crossed a bump in the road. Although the position didn't appear to be comfortable, Lip was too far gone to bother.

I parked in front of Lip’s dorm complex.

“Lip.”

The mere mention of his name caused Lip to instantly become alert, his hands fumbling all over my car.

“Yes?”

I grinned.

“Do you need help walking or can you manage?”

“I got it.”

Lip stumbled out of the vehicle and looked up at his run-down dorm building. Thank God he was at a dorm and not in his chaotic home. Only occasionally have I had to pick up Lip from a party. Yet, I always seem to run into one of Fiona's conquests who is using the cover of night to elude detection.

“This isn’t my house.”

“Yes it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Lip, you moved. You live in a dorm now.”

Lip squinted, still not convinced.

“Oh!”

His eyes widened as his face relaxed.

“Yeah, I remember now.”

We moved slowly as we ascended the stairs. Lip kept stumbling forward, tripping, falling, then shooting back up. The cycle was then repeated ten steps later. Eventually I caved and slung his arm over my shoulder to quicken the process.

“Are your roommates home?”

I wanted to ignite a casual conversation because I could feel Lip growing heavier. I was struggling under his weight and quickly ran out of breath.

“Yes. Actually, no. I don’t think so. I think they left town.”

“Where did they go?”

“They went… to- somewhere.”

Thank God. I could throw Lip on his bed, tuck him in, and leave without any awkward encounters.

I threw Lip’s dorm room open and reached for the lightswitch.

“Noooooo. Don’t turn on the lights.”

I reconciled.

“Alright. Whatever you say.”

It was the home stretch. Lip’s bed was in sight.

I threw him onto it. Under his weight, the springs groaned loudly, disturbing the peace.

“Alright Lip, looks like my work here is done.”

I couldn't help but smile as I turned to leave. Even though I adored Lip and knew this would make a great story, I was eager to crawl into bed.

“Wait…”

He said meekly.

I turned, exhaling an exasperated sigh.

“What now?”

In the ten seconds that I was looking elsewhere, he had somehow gotten himself into a seated position.

“Come here.”

With the most threatening voice his inebriated mind could conjure, he demanded. I rolled my eyes as I approached him.

His expression was sluggish. He seemed to be in a drug-induced coma. Lip’s eyes were half lidded and the corners of his mouth were slightly upturned in a silly manner.

I came to a halt about a foot and a half in front of him.

“Come closer.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest and taking a step forward.

“Closerrrrrr.”

He was undoubtably fucking with me. But whatever, I’ll play his stupid game. I took another step forward, our knees brushing.

A slight smirk appeared on his lips as he glanced at me through his thick lashes.

Shit.

What have I gotten myself into?

Lip encircled my thighs with his large hands, tugging me forward until the waistband of my shorts was level with his nose.

The air hitched in my throat.

“Lip!”

I exclaimed.

Lip began pressing tender kisses to the tops of my bare thighs, maintaining intense eye contact.

“Come on Y/N, live a little.”

I chuckled, my face flushed with embarrassment, despite the fact that Lip was completely unaware of his actions.

“Lip you really are drunk out of your mind.”

Lip chuckled against my skin.

“Maybe.”

He mumbled.

“No, not maybe, definitely.”

His voice was remarkably crisp and clear. Lip was in his element. He was truly demonstrating his ability to woo any woman, even when his mind was under the influence of alcohol.

“Okay, I’m a little drunk.”

I couldn’t deny that he looked unbelievably sexy with his hot mouth trailing along my thighs.

“But I bet you’re already wet just thinking about me inside you.”

His tone was sultry.

How did he manage to flirt drunk better than I could flirt stone cold sober?

Smug bastard.

“I-“

I couldn't refute his accusation because he was completely correct. I could already feel the wetness pooling in my panties and all he had done was kiss my thighs.

“Come on Y/N, just let me fuck you.”

He pushed the hem of my shirt upwards, exposing a thin strip of my stomach. Lip’s fiery touch ignited an expanse of goosebumps along my soft skin.

He pressed several hot, open mouthed kisses to my lower abdomen.

I shuddered.

My knees began to shake.

Jesus.

I placed my hands on his shoulders and meekly pushed him away. Lip resisted, his mouth remaining pressed against my body.

“You’re so tense all the fuckin’ time.”

I gulped, squeezing my eyes shut. If I continued to maintain eye contact, I would never have the strength to put an end to this.

“You need to relax… and I can make you relax. I can eat you out and make you cum all over my face- I can fuck you real slow- make you feel really good-“

His warm mouth was hovering just above my waistband.

“Lip, we’re friends-“

“Friends fuck. Friends fuck all the time.”

He moved a hand forward, rubbing soft circles into my clothed clit.

Jesus, he was touching me through two layers of clothing and I was still getting insanely hot and bothered.

No.

Hell no.

“Sure, but sober friends don’t fuck drunk friends.”

I was more assertive in my actions. I pushed him away from me. Lip's mouth disconnected from my stomach with a soft pop. His hands landed in his lap.

“No?”

He asked with a sarcastic pout.

“Maybe another time.”

I said despite knowing Lip wouldn’t remember this tomorrow.

“Okay. But I got ya thinkin’ about it, didn’t I?”

He asked smugly.

“Yes, you did.”

Lip fell to one side, his head hitting the pillow.

“Will you stay with me?”

I chuckled.

“What are you, seven?”

Lip groaned, his eyes shut.

“No-I’m at least 10.”

Despite my jokes, I wanted to be with Lip. I'd possessed a small crush on him for the many years we'd been friends, but I wasn't sure if it was something I should pursue. It was always a minor nagging thought in the back of my mind, never something to take seriously.

Until tonight.

“Well, you’re not wrong.”

I crawled into bed with him, slinging an arm around his waist.

“Love ya Y/N.”

His voice was slurred to the point where his words could barely be understood. But I recognized what he was saying. When it was time to say goodbye, he always told me he loved me (platonically, of course). I'm grateful that drunk him still clung to our traditions.

“Love you too Lip.”

Lip smelled like stale tobacco and cheap alcohol. It wafted into my nose in waves, lulling me to sleep.

[mikalame]

Halloween with Tokio Hotel

Check out @riaisnotok as i got a lot of inspo from them!!

Bill

he goes all out with big fancy decorations as Halloween is his favourite holiday, he drags everyone else into it as well

wakes everyone up super early to start with costumes and on the day of Halloween he gets everyone super hyped up before trick or treating even with Georgs grumbles of 'being to old for this shit'.

Make sure to milk all the people that give candy out for a lot of candy so he can get the most he will brag about it on the way to the next house to do the same thing

doesn't really dress up as gory characters more so fictional characters he sees in shows or reads about but he will make up sure the decorations around the house are gory and scary as shit.

love doing face paint and putting latex and fake blood on everyone thinks it is really cool to see it like drip down and how you can make some one look like they just got beaten up

Tom

Most gory shit ever its his whole thing could be the most plain character ever and he will be like "yeah i wanna be -------- but make me look dead 😁"

Scares little kids with Georg like around the time where 8-9 year old are walking around cause its not super dark but the sun is setting and they hide in bushes jumping out.

threw up in the middle of the night cause he scoffed down his lollies and got sick even though he was told not to eat them quickly but he didn't listen. this also happens every Halloween.

Gets scared by the fake skeleton bill puts up and will screech every time he sees it even in the middle of the night when he gets up to go puke.

Georg

Moves the fake skeleton around the house and even moves it so its hovering over top of toms bed so it looks like it was watching him sleep then laughs his ass off when he hears tom scream.

tom dared him to mix all his lollies together with a fizzy drink then when the drink tasted like pure sugar and no other flavour he punched tom for 'wasting his candy' then steals like 5 from everyone else.

like to get the Halloween drinks they do at cafes and will never admit it though. Gustav found out and now uses it as blackmail when ever he wants something from him.

Dresses up in THE most boring costumes ever think like batman or harry potter you know and they're also from the dollar store where they are really cheap shitty quality. gets hounded at by Bill for it.

Gustav

Makes all the best Halloween snacks like little ghosts and skeletons or zombies and they're all gone by like the 2 day of October because bill made sure this was a month long holiday

helps Georg with scaring tom and puts fake cobwebs in random places so he can walk into them but walked into them instead and screamed cause he thought it was real them got super embarrassed

didn't really do Halloween before moving in with the band but then because of bill he got into it but doesn't really dress up to much kinda basic as well but well thought out.

May tease Georg about his little pumpkin spice lattes but he in fact does drink them as well but comes up with an excuse about why he is going out (they don't really believe him most of the time)

Taglist:@oppopotamus@saumspam@violentnewmarley@adissonsss hope you all enjoy halloween and make sure if you have any ideas reqest them 😁

[ancuninfiles]

Lithium Pt. 4

Screenshot by @lavendarr00

9.3k words - F/M - Astarion x F! Durge - 18+

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence.

Summary: Astarion nearly walks in on Ronnie during a very private moment. Mortified, Ronnie throws her toy under a pillow, pulling up her pants and… letting him into her apartment, as he's found a better way to restrain her this time.

Oh... and Ronnie makes Astarion watch Twilight: New Moon

꒦꒷♡꒷꒦

Tags: smut, AU modern setting in London UK, mental illness, p in v sex, creampie, cunnilingus, shibari, bondage, TW domestic violence (not with Astarion and Ronnie), roleplay, dirty-talk

MASTERLIST (Other works and chapters)

Read on AO3 for full tag list and proper formatting (recommended)

꒦꒷♡꒷꒦

Beginning notes: CONTENT WARNING for this chapter, but Astarion will always be a softie :3 I promise.

9.3k words. Like Comfort™, This one has been sitting in my files—over 90% done—for a long time. I guess sometimes I just agonize over how to finish a chapter... it's like... my motif or something LOL.

I really got my Gonzo on with the beginning of this chapter. I was ✧*̥˚𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯' 𝘪𝘵˚*̥✧...

Anyways, to the few people who like to read fucked up shit like this, enjoy <3.

꒦꒷♡꒷꒦

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒: 𝐀 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭

꧁꧂

The dildo: an object shaped like an erect penis used for sexual stimulation—according to the Oxford Dictionary. 

—Boring, basically useless phallus. Does nothing. 

   —Good for nothing. 

      —Takes thirty minutes to get me off; If I do at all.

   —Fucking sucks. 

—Waste of my Godsdamned time.

...

Jen had taken Ronnie to a sex shop when she first got together with Alfira, suggesting it would "spice things up". However, the extra "spiciness" became unnecessary once Alfira’s trachea nearly collapsed in Ronnie’s grip.

It happened in Jen's bed, the morning after one of her parties. While Jen was making breakfast, Alfira and Ronnie had taken over her bed. They'd been intimate before—always at Jen’s place. Although they weren't exclusive, their relationship was certainly developing. At that time, Ronnie had only ever been a danger to herself—her violent outbursts occurring solely in the privacy of her own flat. She didn't yet know what she was capable of.

From what Ronnie could recall of the incident, one moment she was giving head, and the next, she was on the floor of Jen's bedroom while Jen tried to calm Alfira down.

Apparently, Ronnie had straddled Alfira and was attempting to strangle her to death—her hands like a vice on her lover's neck. Alfira had been screaming, calling for help until her throat was seized. Jen barged in at the perfect time, put Ronnie in a headlock, and dragged her off Alfira.

Jen did the damage control—she let Alfira know that nobody would ever believe her and that if she told anyone, she would never be allowed at her house again. Shortly after that, Alfira was completely excommunicated from their “friend group"—if you could even call it that.

And it was true that nobody would've believed her. Ronnie was known to be a pacifist, even standing back, unable to form words and frozen in place as she watched Jen get into fights. Jen always said it was better that way so that Ronnie wouldn't get hurt.

Since that day, she hadn’t seen Alfira— hadn’t been able to apologise, get closure, or make amends. Nothing . She knew Jen was only trying to protect her, but the rot in Ronnie's stomach grew tenfold that day; not only from discovering the boundlessness of her violent ailment but also from the guilt of what she’d just done.

Remembering such things didn't aid in Ronnie's climax—or lack thereof. 

—Distractions

—So many distractions.

So she pulled the phallus from her top drawer, eyeing it with scepticism, knowing it would bring back bad memories. 

However, in it went.

It was a wretched pink silicone thing—a “rabbit” or something of that nature. Press a button, and it tickled the outside and undulated on the inside; both futile operations if you're too anxious to get off

—Fuck.

Trying to cum was a regular occurrence for Ronnie—at least once a week. She didn't care for porn—it was all made for men, so she relied on her own broken imagination.

Lately, her imagination brought her to Astarion; but with the thoughts of Astarion came the shame of wanting him, and, subsequently, the knowing that she'd never have him.

The cycle would repeat in circuits of two minutes or so, on and on for thirty minutes until she gave up or fruitlessly orgasmed on the wretched, pink, silicone phallus.

—Useless.

Not like sex is important, anyway. Sure, it felt good.

Well...

It felt great; but was it necessary? Certainly not.

Especially in regards to friendship—and she and Astarion were just friends… Barely friends.

—Just met.

   —Wretched friends.

      —Just kill me, already.

—Anyways...

Resisting the nymph would prove challenging; thankfully, it's extremely responsive to “no” and “stop”. 

But, likely, also very responsive to “fuck me” and “kiss me” and “spank me” and—

—Kill me... Maybe not that one...

Of course, Ronnie knew she was attractive, but her naked form was disfigured with jagged, protruding scars all over. She felt like a monster—her beleaguered skin only matching the sickness within.

Nothing a long-sleeved shirt and leggings couldn't hide—that is until you're spread open. Maybe then, the darkness would help, but eyes adjust eventually, and Ronnie would only be lying to herself if she thought otherwise.

She felt ill, her stomach lurching at times by simply staring at her own reflection. Other people surely would feel the same. The only reason she’d felt so comfortable being nude around Alfira was because Alfira has similar scars.

Yet, Astarion had seen her nude form and...

reverence, every time. Washing her like an expensive car, stitching her like a cherished doll, and touching her as if—

... as if she mattered to him, God knows why.

Well... maybe it was because he wanted her to kill his boss—however that would go down, she wasn’t sure.

She got the impression that he wanted to teach her how to win—how to cheat at poker in exchange for her assistance… as if she could control it. As if she wanted to “bask in gore” as he did.

—Gods... what a freak.

There are limitations to what a friend would do. Ronnie might kill for Jen if she asked—if she needed her to...

Jen would kill for Ronnie—without a doubt, or a second thought. That's what friends do—that's what Jen says.

But to build a friendship based on murder? Well... that was—

... different, to say the least. She'd come close before—to murder—but never succeeded. She never wanted to succeed.

She wanted a break: a drink.

꧁꧂

Movie night at Jen's place was the day after Friday afterparties, where Jen would invite some close friends to watch cheesy classics, horror, and comedy—but mostly horror.

Nocturne would sit on the couch with Jen and Wyll. Sometimes, others would join—the flatmates—but Ronnie sat in her own seat, away from the fray of intimacy, not speaking to anyone.

The movie night-goers were accustomed to this. They let her watch quietly in the corner because they were nice people —respectful adults. Jen wouldn't have it any other way, of course, lest they wish to be tossed in the teeming rain on their arses.

And so they sat with the TV as the only light source, eating popcorn and drinking vodka straight or mixed with anything.

A proper Saturday night—in recovery from Friday night. Jen's hand-me-down velvet chair more than sufficed as a routine seat. Nag champa incense burned on the coffee table, and tarot cards might be read later, as Jen was an avid believer in their prophecy.

This night’s movie was Twilight: a supposed romance about a vampire and a teenage girl who fall hopelessly in love with one another.

Bella, the main character, moved from Arizona to Washington to live with her dad in a small town called Forks. Shortly after, she met Edward, the aforementioned vampire who happens to sparkle in the sunlight.

Bella's eyes lit up upon seeing his glittering form, but Edward recoiled in shame at her admiration. “This is the skin of a killer, Bella,” he said.

Everyone in the room giggled when he said that, and Ronnie joined in the joviality, realising that it was indeed a very silly interaction between the two characters, considering the inoffensiveness of sparkles.

At one point, Edward seemingly teleported into Bella’s room where he watched her sleep, to which Wyll said, “That's just not right.”

It was discomforting to watch the choked-up vampire talk about how he wanted to kill Bella... just because he thought she was hot? And because he couldn't read her mind like he could with everyone else?

Perhaps he confused lust with hunger somewhere down the line. To Ronnie, craving chips felt quite different from horniness. However, they allegedly abstained from sex until marriage in the penultimate movie because Edward was too afraid of hurting Bella while shagging.

—Relatable. But as if marriage would make him less dangerous.

It could have made more sense, and the story could have been better, but Ronnie actually enjoyed it overall.

How wonderful it would be to be lifted from your mundane reality by a romance with a supernatural creature. Also, she related to Edward in the way that she, too, felt like a monster—always on edge, worried about being a danger to others.

That night, she slept in the spandrel as usual, only to be woken by the sound of plates smashing in the kitchen. Lae'zel—Jen's girlfriend—had stayed over, and their relationship was tumultuous, to say the least.

At times, they would almost seem like the perfect couple. Other times, however, they were at dire odds, and Lae'zel would hurt Jen in a myriad of ways.

“You think you're such a princess because Vic takes care of you. Some of us have experienced real hardship,” Lae'zel would say, but it was untrue.

Jen had been kicked out plenty of times, and she'd had to fuck for a place to rest her head at night. Vic was anything but merciful when it came to Jen, and it didn't help that she was her landlord, her boss, and a huge philanthropist to the hospital where her dad stayed.

Vic had kicked Jen out for a slew of unjust reasons, those being:

Not paying rent on time, but Vic hadn't sent Jen's pay that month.

Not cleaning up after her disgusting flatmates.

Jen struggling with addiction.

The list goes on, truly. Unfortunately, it was after these bouts of verbal and physical violence perpetrated by Vic and Lae'zel that Jen would spiral further into substance abuse. Ronnie had seen it many times—where Vic would leave after letting Jen know how “worthless” she was, or Lae'zel would slam the door after claiming that it was “over”; though she would always be back within a week with a box of cheap chocolates, apologising and claiming that she'd change.

“I love you to death,” Lae'zel would ominously exclaim, as if she'd be the one to end Jen.

Ronnie knew the look on Jen's face too well by this point—the pursed lips and wet eyes. Surely, her stoicism was crushing her throat. But there was no stopping her in her ascent to her bedroom, where she'd lock the door behind Ronnie, unwilling to accept any comforts—the type that she'd consistently given Ronnie. No , she'd dig her stash from under her bed and get to work, meaning: get as fucked up as needed to numb herself.

It often ended in Nox having to knock the door down, lest Jen drown in her own vomit or overdose on ketamine or whathaveyou. Vic and Lae'zel weren't aware of Jen's fragile disposition—or, at least it didn't seem that way, considering their unrelenting cruelty towards her. Jen would never tell them about what she'd done after they’d stormed out—it'd probably not make a difference, anyway.

Ronnie would wait outside Jen’s door, leaning her back on it as she sat on the ground. “Jen,” Ronnie would say, not knowing what to offer other than her presence. “Please, Jen.”

Jen would not respond. All Ronnie could hear were the rustling of bags, sounds of nasal insufflation, or the sharp exhales after swigs of liquor.

Narcan was kept in the "House of Grief” and it'd been used on Jen before. She always acted resentful when the ambulance showed, metaphorically pushing everyone away because she thought herself deceitful enough to make her friends believe that she was a cunt, after all. To which they would retort with a “nice try” sort of attitude.

— As if losing Jen: my cunt friend would be easier than losing Jen: my friend.

When she'd get out of the hospital, she'd essentially pretend that nothing ever happened—life went on like normal, and “I'm fine” became her two favourite words in the English language.

Cliché.

꧁꧂

Ronnie sat on her shabby couch, scrolling and scrolling. It was a Monday night, and she'd had the day off work. She'd prepped her meals, stretched, exercised, and cleaned her flat—it always becomes a wreck after a few days, but she usually manages to tidy once a week.

Behind the couch was the chipping-white-paint-covered beam and stool, then a blank space, then the kitchen where the ceiling light dimly illuminated almost the entirety of her basement flat, except for her bedroom and bathroom.

The leak dripped, and the mould on it grew every day. Ronnie wanted to get it fixed, but then she'd be alone with the handyman in her flat: a terrible idea, considering her history of violence.

It had been almost two weeks since the tavern and, of course, no sign of Astarion. Maybe he'd changed his mind about her, or maybe he simply got bored.

Ronnie… missed him. They never exchanged numbers, as neither Astarion nor Ronnie brought it up. She would have thought that he'd leave a piece of paper with it written down for her to see when she woke up at the tavern, at least, but no. Nothing . She thought it might be better that way because if she hadn’t scared him away yet with her problems, she'd surely scare him away with her eagerness. She'd have to make a constant effort to text him no more than once a day—at most.

Since the events at the tavern, Astarion had been on her mind more than was justifiable. It bordered on entirely obsessive—obsessed with countering the lustful thoughts, contemplating the meanings behind his words. What was the deal with his boss—was he some sort of mobster? And Astarion—what part did he really play in all of this?

Over the past two weeks, she had likely spent hours staring in her bathroom mirror, admiring her wound, pulled tight like a corset—although not too tight, of course. She would examine it up and down and run her fingers along the sides, feeling the slight burn of her swollen tissue. It felt almost as if the dissolving thread was Astarion himself, diving through her laceration and holding it together. She imagined herself tearing it open and reaching for her heart through her ribcage, handing it to him like a cat with a dead bird at his doorstep.

And then there was the fourteen hundred pounds he'd given her—she hadn’t spent it yet. She didn't know what to do with it.

—Maybe something for Jen.

Jen needed a new laptop—she was always complaining about hers glitching out, freezing, and crashing. So Ronnie browsed the web in search of just that.

It was amazing—the type of laptops one could buy with fourteen hundred pounds; but what brand would she want? Would she want a large screen or something more compact?

— Hmm... I'm bored.

But, out of her periphery starred the wretched, pink phallus—the torturous, useless thing.

Though; useless as it was, Ronnie sought to give it another go—not accepting total defeat just yet.

So she sat up, pulled down her flannelette pyjama trousers, grabbed the thing off the coffee table, hoisted her knees up, and got to work. Facing the black TV screen, she closed her eyes to avoid visual distractions, mainly her scars.

She tried thinking—imagining ideas of what ought to get her off. 

A beautiful woman above her, glistening all over with dexterous fingers. Or maybe a man with a skilled tongue, or maybe—

—Alfira.

...

No. She would stay focused.

The man with the skilled tongue is... doing things with his tongue and he is hot...

— No.

— I need to get groceries. I hate the grocery shop. Maybe I can just use some of Astarion's money to have them delivered.

—Astarion is hot.

— No. I can't think of him while I'm doing this.

—But he...

Ronnie remembered vividly their first night together, when he'd been inside and teased her so. What if he'd continued? What if things went further? They both could have finished—finished with each other. On each other, in—

She was so close. She allowed herself to imagine that maybe he was right there—inside her. She tried picturing his body, and the way his muscles would ripple with the smallest movements—with each thrust, perhaps.

How his hair would be damp with sweat and his expression— oh, his expression would be sinfully picturesque. It would be a face one would never catch him making except for in the moments before rapture. 

And his sounds—his little grunts of pleasure.

“You take me so well, Ronnie,” he'd say. “Such a good girl, all for me.”

It was the closest she’d been in weeks—right on the precipice—

*Knock-knock-knock*

…

She panicked, throwing the thing under a pillow on her couch and hastily pulling on her trousers.

—Who would be knocking on my door at eleven at night?

She tiptoed to the spyhole in her door, making sure not to be too noisy in case she didn't want to answer.

But it was Astarion, standing and waiting patiently with a bag on his wrist and his hands in his pockets. His hard chest was evident under his buttoned-up shirt.

Her face reddened; it couldn't have been worse timing for him to show up—or better timing, depending on how she looked at it. Maybe he could cuff her to the pole and take her on the floor— NO.

She couldn't. What if she lost her wits amid a shag? It would be humiliating for her.

—But he said he would wait there for me—wait for it to be over.

Even still, was that enough insurance? No. She thought she'd better be safe than sorry.

Elated, Ronnie opened the door to look at him through the chain lock, but she suddenly became very aware of how plain and makeupless she was, so she bit the inside of her cheek to ground herself.

“Astarion!” she started, sounding much more eager than she'd meant to. “Hi. What are you doing here?” She smiled, lowering her pitch.

He wore a dress suit again, but this time, with an unbuttoned raincoat. Dressed nicely, as always.

His pocketed hands drew Ronnie's eyes lower to where his narrow hips were, but her gaze didn't linger there for more than a moment.

He looked relieved. “ Ah —finally. I've been coming here almost every night looking for you,” he said. “ Er —may I come in?”

—He's been looking for me? Oh my Gods, yes. I missed you, I missed you, I missed you so much.

Ronnie cleared her throat. “ Ahem —do you have handcuffs?”

Astarion held up his bag. “Yes, I have all the fixings.” He grinned roguishly.

Ronnie wanted to scream into her pillow and punch her mattress a hundred times or more. She had an unignorable rising feeling in her chest that reverberated through her arms—a feeling she knew was bound to make her stupid. What could he possibly mean by “ all the fixings”? Had he brought treats? Games? Gifts? She had to know.

Reeling herself in, she responded coolly, “Right. So the protocol is you have to cuff me to the beam immediately as soon as you come in. That always has to be our number one priority. Yeah?”

Astarion gave a curt bow. “Yes, ma'am.”

“Are you ready?”

“Very.”

—I hate you, you stupid freak.

   —I hate how you make me feel.

—Why do you make me feel like this?

Ronnie gritted her teeth. “Set.”

Astarion huffed a laugh, throwing his head back—which exposed his perfect smile—but ultimately, he bent his knees in a playful battle stance.

“Go.”

Ronnie slammed her door shut and unhooked her chain lock. Astarion opened the door before she could open it for him herself, and she giddily ran to the stool that was always at her pole. He closed the door and laughed mirthfully, approaching her already. She tried to suppress a grin as he ran up and hooked her cuffs on behind her in one swift movement.

Ronnie tugged to test her restraints, and she sighed happily, feeling the stability they provided as Astarion hung his coat on her coat hooks and rolled up his sleeves.

Astarion stood in front of her, arms crossed with his bag on the ground beside him, looking awfully satisfied and smelling delicious. She wanted to bite him, only softly to steal a salty taste... or to immobilise him. She scrunched her features, shooing away the intrusive fantasy.

“Have I ever told you how good you look when you're helpless?” Astarion joked.

Ronnie blushed, averting her gaze from the handsome man. “Whatever. You can quit the evil act. I know you're not going to hurt me,” she spat; although, she wanted him to hurt her—only a little. And she knew he would if she asked.

“ Oh? But why would I do that when you clearly respond to it so well,” he teased with a devious and toothy grin. She wondered how much of her bullshit he could see straight through.

Ronnie chuckled, craning her head back. “What did you come here for, anyway?” He'd been looking for her. It had to be important. Or maybe she was important. Or... what she was capable of. Nevertheless, he was there—right where she wanted him, or close. She preferred him to be closer. But she wouldn't—she wouldn't cave.

He held his chin in thought for a few moments. “To see you,” he started, “and I suppose to teach you a few little tricks—using sleight of hand with card games.” His voice was smooth but raspy, almost like the sound of a bowling ball rolling towards its pins.

“Oh... that’s calm. Okay.” She nodded, looking at his feet.

She should have guessed that he'd only come to continue their “business”—not to simply hang out. It might make it easier to keep it in her pants, but his flirtatious remarks were tugging at her strings already. She was thankful that he'd shown up with a purpose, after all. And she was thankful that he hadn't abandoned her—that he'd been looking for her, even.

She never thought someone could want her after knowing what she was capable of, or what her body looked like—save for Alfira, but it was hard to come by someone with morals as pure as hers. 

He'd called her visage “ominous.” Shouldn't that have meant that he was repulsed? But he still made advances on her after sharing his derogatory and unwanted opinion—maybe he liked “ominous.”

“Also, I've thought of some solutions to the mobility issues that would arise given our use of handcuffs.” He put one hand on his hip, and all of his weight on one leg as he feigned disinterest, looking at his nails. “Although the cuffs are the most convenient, they didn't seem like the most... practical, nor the most comfortable idea.”

Ronnie's lips parted, her eyes sparkling with intrigue, or perhaps enamourment at his thoughtful consideration.

“Do you want to see what I've come up with?” he asked, pulling his phone from his pocket.

She bit her inner lip. “Yeah, sure,” she drawled, unsure of exactly how much gratitude to display, as she had to avoid leading him on.

He fussed with his phone for a moment and then showed Ronnie an image of a mannequin that had been intricately tied around its torso and waist. It looked beautiful, but it also looked quite lewd, somehow.

“This is called ‘shibari’. It's an ancient Japanese roping technique that has been historically used on prisoners. Now, however, people primarily use it for art and— er ... sex, to be quite honest,” he said, briefly chuckling after his statement.

Cheeks flushing, Ronnie kept her gaze on the screen as he swiped to another picture of a mannequin tied similarly, but this time the rope extended through the groin.

“Of course, some of these are a bit more... salacious than others, but I thought I'd give you options. Given your circumstance, it only seemed fair.”

He swiped to the next image, this time showing the back of a mannequin with its arms fastened straight vertically, adorned with knots along their length. It looked much more comfortable than the handcuffs.

“Um... is this okay?” Ronnie asked, rubbing her knees together nervously. She couldn't quell the dirty images in her mind of her tied up—naked and displayed—free for him to touch in whatever way he pleased.

“What, tying you up? Sure! It's perfectly fine— er ... that is, if you want to, of course.” He tilted his head, smiling awkwardly.

—This doesn't have to be sexual. He said it was originally used with prisoners. I am just being tied like a prisoner, she justified to herself.

“ Um ... we—we can try,” Ronnie stammered.

—Fuck. Now I'm stuttering? Stupid.

“Just don't make it weird, please,” she added, only partially confident that she would be able to rein herself in. She would have to count on him.

“ Me? ‘Make it weird’?” He scoffed. “Why, I would never,” he said, frowning disingenuously.

“Astarion... I need your help with this,” she tried her best to sound serious. She knew that shagging him would be wholly reckless—unfair to both of them, given her condition.

“Relax! I'm only joking. Ugh —you’re no fun,” he teased. “ So ... which one would you like?” Astarion asked.

Ronnie squinted at his screen as he flipped through the carousel of pictures, looking for the one that looked the least perverted.

One, in particular, caught her eye: a harness that only hugged the torso and shoulders without riding between the breasts or groin. It was perfect and safer than the handcuffs for both parties involved. She doubted that she'd be able to free herself of the binding, and she wouldn't be able to dislocate her wrists in it either. Additionally, it looked like a comfortable setup, and she'd even be able to traverse a portion of her flat—as much as the rope connecting her to the pole would allow.

“Can we do that one?” she asked.

Astarion looked at his phone. “Of course. This one should be quite easy, actually,” he exclaimed, squatting to grab a red rope from his bag. “Could you stand, please?”

“ Oh —yes, of course,” Ronnie said, standing and moving around the pole—away from her stool.

He unravelled the rope and then folded it in half to find the middle. Then he began his wrapping and knotting. He wrapped above her shoulders and around her ribs, honed into his work as he was when he'd stitched her.

His brows knitted together and he bit his bottom lip while he focused, pulling the rope through the loops made around her shoulders as it brushed against the fabric of her loose cropped t-shirt. Ronnie held her breath almost the entire time, as each brush of his tender digits made her internally recoil in shame.

Next, he moved to her back, fastening her arms to the harness and immobilising them. The binding felt more secure than the cuffs, but without the discomfort.

As he was finishing up, Ronnie had a fleeting recollection of what she’d been doing just before he came in—what she'd been thinking about. But she gritted her teeth and attempted to relinquish the thoughts.

It was a consistent effort, in the silence, though. She thought she might have more luck once he began his lesson.

To be fair, Ronnie didn't really care about learning how to cheat at poker, but he seemed like he wanted to show her, and she was simply happy to spend time with him at this point—she wasn't going to be picky when genuine friendships were so difficult for her to come by.

Once he bound from her shoulders to her elbows, he unlocked the handcuffs and then proceeded to tie his last knots along her upper limbs. Then, he pulled a separate rope from his bag and stuck his fingers under one of the loops in the middle of her back, inadvertently jostling Ronnie and consequently gripping her arm to steady her. She must have been hot because his hand was cool against her skin, and she wondered if she was red like the ogre at the tavern.

He fed the second rope through her harness and knotted it to her before doing the same with the other end on the pole.

At last, she was free of his touch, grateful for the chance to create some distance between them.

Astarion stood in front of Ronnie with his hands on his hips. “All done, safe and secure. You’re free to walk about, but the second rope is only about three metres long. It’s safest to keep it that way.”

Ronnie tugged at her restraints as hard as she could, but they didn’t budge. She walked until the rope connecting her to the pole was taut, then leaned her entire body weight on it, giggling as she balanced on her toes at a forty-five-degree angle.

She felt a slight tug and looked back to find Astarion pulling at the rope towards the beam, also testing its strength.

“As I thought, it won’t come undone easily,” he said, letting go of the rope.

“How’d you learn how to do this?” Ronnie asked as she straightened up.

Astarion paused for a moment, walking around to the sofa with his bag in hand. “Let’s not exhume the past tonight, eh?” He plopped onto the sofa, awfully close to the pillow under which the thing was hidden, causing Ronnie to gasp sharply through her nose.

When it came to exhuming the past, she could do without revisiting what she’d been doing immediately before Astarion arrived. She really ought to have put away the thing before letting Astarion in, but she’d been too distracted by his presence, and she could all but hope she wouldn’t have to pay for that mistake.

She climbed over the back of her sofa in her bare feet and settled on the opposite end from Astarion, feeling the plush cushion beneath her.

He pulled out a deck of cards and began to shuffle, the cards snapping crisply between his fingers. “The first thing is that, of course, you’ll need to know where the cards are in the deck.” He set the deck on the table and flicked the corner up with his thumb, exposing each card for a split second. “That’s how much time you have to take in the contents of the deck. Now—if I’m looking for the Jack of Spades, I can find it right here.” He lifted a portion of the deck and showed Ronnie the card at the bottom of his chosen section—it was the Jack of Spades. “You’ll need to learn the weight of the cards—how ten cards feel versus... twenty-two cards, and so on.”

Ronnie watched him put the deck back together and riffle the cards, her eyes drawn to the way his fingers moved deftly, the muscles in his forearms flexing with each gesture. There was something hypnotic about his movements—a grace that made everything he did look effortless. She imagined those hands on her skin, the same dexterity applied to tracing lines along her body.

He continued shuffling in a myriad of ways, his voice a low murmur. “The most important part, when you’re first starting, is to wait for an opening—wait until your opponent’s eyes are busy. That’s why you’ll begin with Heads-up—one-on-one poker—”

Ronnie could hear the cadence of his words, but her focus was on his lithe fingers, the way they worked through the cards with such precision. His fingernails, perfectly manicured, danced across the deck, and she wondered what those fingers would feel like in her mouth.

“Ronnie?” His voice snapped her from her trance, and she realized he’d stopped talking and she’d been staring at his hands.

She shook her head, trying to clear the haze. “Sorry. I’m just—distracted. Do you think we could maybe watch a movie instead, tonight?” she asked, giving him a tense smile and hoping he didn’t notice the flush creeping up her neck. Though; the mischievous glint in his eye and his roguish grin informed Ronnie that he knew exactly what he was doing to her, and that caused her to stir slightly in her spot.

“If that's what you'd prefer.” He shuffled the cards one last time before placing them in the box and away in his bag. He retrieved the remote from the coffee table and switched on the TV, navigating to the built-in streaming service.

Ronnie hung her head in relief before looking at the list of recommended shows and movies. He flipped through them, witnessing her embarrassing stack of dating shows under the “Continue watching” section. Tensing, she held her breath, but he didn’t seem phased by her taste in media. She could've been sure that he’d tease her about it, but he didn’t say a word.

One movie in particular caught her eye: New Moon, the sequel to Twilight. Her eyes widened with excitement. “ Oh! Can we watch New Moon?” she asked.

“I remember hearing about this one a decade ago. It’s about werewolves and vampires, correct? Infamous for its mawkishness?” Astarion asked.

“Yes! Exactly!” She bounced excitedly. “I just watched the first one at Jen’s not that long ago.”

“ Hm— I’ll entertain this, sure. We have to change it if it's boring, though,” he said, clicking on the movie and then getting up to flick her kitchen light off before returning to his spot on the couch.

“Yes! Okay, I'm so excited. I've never seen it before.” She shimmied, bringing her knees to her chest.

Ronnie watched raptly as the opening scene began with Bella in a forest clearing with Edward. They approached an elderly woman, only to find out she was Bella’s reflection. Glancing at Astarion, she saw his brows knit together in a frown, clearly already entranced by the film.

He was… cute —the way he seemed utterly intrigued.

“He can go in the sun? He's sparkling,” Astarion asked.

“Yeah. He's all bitter about it, as well—haha,” Ronnie giggled.

“Bitter? Gods . You think he would be grateful that he doesn't burn to ash.”

Bella and Edward were standing together in the school parking lot when Edward said: “Jacob's here,” before Jacob was within eyesight.

“How did he know that Jacob was there?” Astarion asked.

“He can read minds.”

“Terrifying.”

“Except for Bella's, but Alice can tell the future, and Jasper is always hungry and constipated-looking,” Ronnie exclaimed.

Bella was sitting at the back of the class watching Romeo and Juliette with Edward. They were casually talking about the movie when Edward—out of the blue—exclaimed that he envies Romeo because he committed suicide.

“He envies Romeo because he killed himself? Edward is a fool,” Astarion said, frowning.

“You're granted immortality, and you can walk in the sun, but you spend your days in high school around a bunch of teenagers? Their master must be some sort of eccentric. Though, it beats rotting away in a kennel.” Astarion seemed personally offended by this premise, causing Ronnie to stifle a giggle.

“Those ‘Volturi’ seem like awful creatures. Quite ugly, as well,” Astarion said, and Ronnie enjoyed his commentary on the movie—keeping her entertained.

Jasper—the constipated one—became feral over Bella's papercut. In response, Edward pushed Bella away from him to protect her, but she flew into a table, injuring herself further. Alice had to escort Jasper away.

“ Oh —I like this movie,” Astarion exclaimed, smirking.

—Of course he would say that during the most chaotic scene, Ronnie thought.

Carlisle—the “father”—stitched Bella's wounds, and he mentioned to Bella that he believed he was “damned” due to his vampiric condition.

“‘Damned’? These vampires are free of a master, they live in a comfortable abode, they can walk in the sun, and they think they are ‘damned’? Ridiculous,” Astarion said.

“I know. It's a little silly, but I guess I understand if they're depressed,” Ronnie added.

“Edward is in love with this beautiful young lady, and he refuses to change her? The stupidity,” Astarion spat.

A scene played where Edward breaks up with Bella in the woods because he's moving away. Bella said: “I'm coming,” to which Edward responded: “I don't want you to come.”

Astarion huffed a chuckle. “I would never not let you come, Ronnie.”

“Sod off.”

As a result of Edward's abandonment, Bella fell into a deep depression, and a scene played where she was staring out of her bedroom window as the months passed by.

“Is this what you do when I'm not around?” Astarion asked, grinning.

“No.”

“I'm hurt,” he said, grabbing his chest in mock offence.

Bella began spending more time with Jacob after experiencing a hallucination of Edward’s presence while riding on the back of a stranger's motorcycle. She realised there might be a link between the hallucination and engaging in life-risking behaviour, so she decided to take advantage of Jacob’s skills as a mechanic. Bella brought him two dirt bikes from the scrapyard, and Jacob helped her fix them. She rode one of the bikes intending to induce the same “Edward hallucination.” While it worked, the distraction caused her to crash the bike and smash her head against a rock.

“He's clearly reinforcing Bella's dangerous behaviour. How does he not see this?” Astarion protested.

The movie continued, showing Bella spending even more time with Jacob, their friendship nearly approaching romantic territory.

“This Jacob boy isn't half-bad,” Astarion said. But when Jacob started lashing out towards Bella and her friends, Astarion changed his mind. “Nevermind. I take back what I said about him earlier.”

Eventually, the plot dragged on and Astarion became frustrated. “There are no vampires in this movie!” he complained, shifting his position on the couch and sitting on the pillow.

The moment he descended on the pillow, it began to vibrate—or rather, the thing began to vibrate under it.

Mortified, Ronnie's eyes widened and she held her breath as Astarion half-stood to search for the source of the buzzing beneath him.

“Wait!” she raised her voice in a panic.

He stood, crouching in front of the couch. “Sorry, I'm just trying to figure out where that sound is coming from. I can rewind in a second, don't you worry. I—” He froze, lifting the pillow to find her toy undulating beneath it. “Oh—I see.” His face of confusion quickly warped into one of mischief at his discovery. 

Grinning, he lifted the phallus and inspected it before switching it off. “We've been very naughty, today—haven't we?” His head was unmoving but his conniving stare landed on Ronnie's face. He smiled, almost strategically so—or that's how it felt. 

He looked away only to pause the movie—a freeze frame of Bella.

Ronnie sat back in horror, watching him examine it . If it wasn't for her restraints, she would've snatched it from him already. Blushing, she frowned, gritting her teeth as her heart raced with embarrassment. 

There was no going back now—not since he'd seen it . If she could've erased it from his mind like her amnesia, she would've.

She hadn’t spent all that much time with Astarion yet, but she already surmised a few of his consistent character traits. 

One: he was an instigator.

Two: he was cunning.

And three: he was opportunistic.

“No,” she denied his allegation, as it was all she could manage in her fragile state of shame—feeling stupid for letting him in; for not putting away her toy properly beforehand.

Her desire crept up on her, its languid grasp much like a boa constrictor. Attempting to ground herself, she shook her head. She knew what was coming next—he wouldn't drop this… wouldn't let her live this down. 

“ Hm ... Good girls don't lie,” he purred, hovering over Ronnie as his shadow cast on her. 

Checkmate.

He had her.

And she felt small under his stare.

“Now—I'm going to give this a little wash, I think, and then I'll be right back.”

Ronnie watched as he waltzed away, past the couch, out of her field of vision, and into the darkness of her kitchen.

Visions of Astarion played in her mind as a needle on vinyl—visions of him “torturing” her with the thing. Her womb throbbed at the idea.

She heard the ominous sound of running water emanating from the kitchen, and then—even more ominously—the footsteps towards her after it stopped.

Astarion—phallus in hand—climbed onto the sofa, facing her. “You must've been in an awful hurry to hide this, considering its location and the remnants that adorned it,” he cooed. “Pray tell—it was within you when I arrived at your door, was it not?”

— How did he...?

Cunning

Opportunistic

Perceptive

Instigator.

Ronnie bit her inner cheek, her brows tensing as she shook her head. Her breath was caught in her chest as her head became weighty on her neck. Instinctively, she laid back, her nape resting on the arm of the couch as she watched him crawl closer, like a feline.

“ Tut tut, Ronnie. You truly are too easy to read, you know,” he teased. “I’ve always wondered: do you think of me when you touch yourself?” 

—Yes, you bastard.

She looked up at him—framed by her thighs—eyes pleading, and excuses stuck on her tongue. 

Her eyes pleaded for mercy—mercy of any breed. All or nothing. But—at this point—she'd prefer the former.

Her thoughts became muddied, snuffing the enervated flames of coherence and obligation.

“Your lips look so pretty when you bite them like that—so... kissable,” he rasped, climbing atop her.

The sudden taste of iron invaded her mouth. She hadn’t realised she was biting her lip—but she’d been biting it hard enough to break skin. 

Ronnie released her lower lip from its toothy restraint, and she saw a flit of something restrained in him when her lip bounced back into place.

The way his palms sunk into the sofa on either side of her made her arch her back expectantly.

He leaned in, and she gasped, feeling his cheekbone fleetingly make contact with hers.

His breath brushed her ear. “You know, Ronnie,” he started, “I wish for you to confide in me—your desires,” he whispered. 

Ronnie's knees neared her shoulders—his hips, hovering inches from hers.

“If it helps, I'll share mine first. Would you like that?” he purred, playing with a lock of her hair.

He rose from her torso, humming low and soft as he watched her, tilting his head condescendingly and sitting on his heels.

And Ronnie felt like something precious was torn from her.

Her skin tingled, yearning for his touch. Astarion's cadence was soothing and his demeanour, benevolent. She let her eyelids fall closed, remembering the safety of his embrace after their first coupling. She'd never felt so cherished before; or at least… not that she could remember.

She wanted it again.

“Tell me,” Ronnie said, her voice trembling with nerves.

“ Hmm... ” He snaked his hand down her shin, leaving sparks in its wake. “I want to roam your body with my touch,” he began. “I want to make you whimper and squirm as I fill you,” he cooed, teasing under her waistband with his fingers. “I want to hear you breathless while I make you come undone.” He splayed his fingers under the hem of her shirt. “Your turn,” he instructed.

Ronnie arched her back, finally finding her breath again as the nerves melted into solace. “I want... your touch,” she whispered. “I want to kiss you again… please ,” she pleaded, rolling her pelvis into his, and—to her delight—finding his hardened length; though, it was imprisoned by his trousers.

Dropping the phallus, he grabbed at her hips and pulled her core to his hardness. “ Mm —there we are. You'll find that I'll reward you for honesty,” he hummed, slotting his fingers under her waistband and pulling her pants off, leaving her fully exposed, scars and all. He leaned into her, caging her in with his elbows. “How innocent of you—to want a kiss; though I'm sure you want more than that,” he whispered, his lips brushing hers as they shared breath.

Ronnie let her lashes flutter shut as she basked in the feeling of his skin—so close to hers. He pressed his forehead into hers—their noses, staggered.

“I'm right, aren't I?” He smooched her experimentally. “You wish to be ravished, don't you?” Teasing, he pecked beside her lips.

Ronnie felt as if her shabby couch had transformed into a cloud as she wrapped her legs around him. Even her disorder felt like a distant axiom, with the way he enveloped her.

“Tell me,” he said, pecking her cheek. “What is it that you truly want?”

Ronnie craned her head forward, capturing his lips, to which he promptly reciprocated. Astarion groaned into her mouth, and she could feel his smile as they kissed. His cunningness was troublesome and inescapable.

She was at a threshold she hadn’t planned to cross with him again, but the safety of her bindings began to feel much like the safety provided by her lithium on the day they’d met—safety that would give consequence to the morrow.

Capitulating, Ronnie pulled from his kiss. “I want…” she breathed, “I want to have sex with you.” She found his lips again, pecking him roughly.

Astarion growled his assent, their lips colliding once more as Ronnie could hear him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers—music to her ears.

Their mouths disconnected with a pop, and Astarion stood to unbutton his shirt. As she'd expected, his body was impeccably toned, and his muscles rippled as he discarded his top on the coffee table.

He slotted his thumbs under his waistband. “What a sight, you are—now that you've given yourself to me, at last,” he teased, relinquishing himself of both his formal trousers and his briefs.

His length sprang free—it was much larger than her meagre toy and it glistened with precum in the television's dim light. She had no recollection of shagging someone with a penis, and, of course, her sexual relationship with Alfira was painfully short-lived. And so, excitation became her, as she laid with her thighs resting on her tummy which bounced ever so slightly as Astarion sat on the couch to pull off his socks.

“You're such a princess, you know?” he teased.

—Princess?

Ronnie tilted her head away, huffing. “ Hmph —I’d be doing more if I wasn't tied up like a... rabid animal.” She scowled.

Astarion threw his head back, chuckling darkly. “That’s not what I meant—and you're tied up like a gift, not a ‘rabid animal’,” he mocked, crawling atop her form. “I'd quite like to unwrap you, my dear.” He tugged at her shirt, easing it through her bindings to crumple just above her breasts. “ Oh —your wound healed beautifully, I see.” He traced his finger beside it, languidly.

“Yeah.” She blushed. “Thanks, again, by the way.”

Astarion quirked up the corner of his mouth as his hands slotted beneath her—one under her back and the other, carding through her hair. He eased her towards him so that her head rested comfortably against the pillow. Consequently, she felt his length brush against her folds. 

“Better?” he asked, peering into her eyes as he caressed her cheek with his thumb.

“Yeah... Thank you,” she said, her eyes, heavy-lidded with desire.

— So courteous.

His face seemed relaxed, except for a barely perceptible intensity in his brow. At last, he descended to her breast with his open maw, flicking her hardened pebble with his tongue. Thumbing her other nipple, he gave her nip a playful bite, causing Ronnie to squeak as he rocked his heavy length between her folds.

He created a trail of small hickies from one breast to the other, thumbing her now-wet nipple. 

Ronnie twirled her pelvis, trying to urge him inwards, but her efforts proved futile.

Groaning, he disconnected from her mound—a string of saliva between them. He kissed her, hungrily sucking on her lower lip and grabbing her waist rough enough to bruise her marred flesh.

Breathless, he pulled away, and Ronnie’s lip bounced back into place. 

“I’m sorry. I seem to be... getting lost in you. Are you okay?” he asked, frantic.

Ronnie welcomed a reasonable level of pain—their first tryst being evidence of that—and his ungentle treatment hadn’t phased her. “I’m good,” she said, attempting a smile to stifle his woes. “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” he said loudly before catching himself. “No. I just... need to keep my teeth to myself, that's all,” he scolded himself, looking away.

“ Hm —I don't mind. Don't worry,” she hummed. “I like it.”

He sighed, closing his eyes as he held her waist. He snaked his hands under her bottom, and crouched, lifting her core to his mouth. He relaxed in his position as he began lapping at her clit, sticking a thumb inside her as he licked and held her up with his forearm. 

Sucking on her bud, he removed his thumb, only to replace it with two digits which he pumped into her at a consistent pace. Astarion closed his eyes, his brows furrowing as he feasted on her like a starved man—lewd, wet sounds emanating from his tongue and lips.

Ronnie's thighs tensed as she approached her climax—breathing heavily, pliable in his grasp.

He placed the flat of his tongue on her, working her similarly to her toy, but—of course—better, as it was Astarion. Astarion, who she'd been restraining herself from since after their first coupling—denying herself the pleasure out of trepidation... because she didn't want to hurt him. But, with her wrapped up, he could more than handle her— devour her. 

One last raucous emission—deep from within Astarion's chest—was enough to break the bough, splintering Ronnie into broken cries of release.

She went limp entirely, his fingers still working inside her, and his tongue relenting before he removed his face. "That's it," he murmured, " good girl." He spread his digits apart inside her. "You're going to take my cock so well, Ronnie. You're doing so well," he said, kissing her clit ravenously and making her hips lurch as she panted, overstimulated from her orgasm. 

Chuckling darkly, he let up, grabbing her thighs and parting them as he aligned himself with her weeping nethers. He sunk into her slowly, allowing her to stretch and adjust to his size as his tip hugged her cervix. “See? You were made for me,” he purred, setting a dilatory pace. “ Really. I should have kept you tied up for me to fuck whenever I pleased the day we met—kept you hidden away for my own personal use—my little prisoner,” he rasped, snapping into her. “You would like that, wouldn’t you—to be my cherished fuck slave?” His rutting quickened.

“Yeah,” she whined, picturing herself, his bound and subservient personal whore. Astarion truly had a way of plucking the right strings, as if he knew exactly what would make her sing for him.

Nobody had ever done that before.

He used her hips as leverage, rotating them forward so that her back arched and he could thrust into her at the right angle. “You wish to be mine to fill whenever I want, I know it. You want me to spill inside you and coat your womb with my seed—to be fucked until you’re swollen and sore from my cock,” he rasped.

Eyes wet, Ronnie nodded, messy with perspiration as she cried her assent.

“ Good girl. See what happens when you’re honest?” he praised, sucking his fingers and then dutifully reaching them to rub her clit. 

Ronnie moaned through gritted teeth as she watched him work her, feeling awfully stuffed by his member—so long and wide and pressing up into where she felt it most.

With a snap of his hips, he sheathed himself fully, stilling as he worshipped her bud with a rapidly moving hand. “I want to feel you cum on me, darling. Cum on me, and you’ll get your reward,” he said,  warming his pulsing girth in her channel.

Tears flowed from Ronnie’s eyes, and her muscles flexed as she felt him twitching inside of her. She let go, weeping, watching him choke out an undignified moan as she quivered around him, violently clutching him with her climax.

Astarion squeezed his eyes shut as he finished with her clit, allowing himself to move again. Grabbing the backs of her thighs, he pushed her knees towards her chest, forcing her to fold in half. Watching himself stretch her folds, he would languidly pull out—almost completely, leaving only his tip sheathed—before thrusting back in with punishing snaps of his hips. Ronnie's bound body was no match, as it was forced up with each sloppy pound of his pelvis.

His lips pulled into a satisfied smirk, watching her bounce haplessly. All she could do was take it; it was everything she wanted since she began to crave him. Her body and mind's reaction to his ruthless sexual treatment came as a surprise to her, as she'd only ever been with the kind and gentle or selfish types; or at least, that's all she could recall. 

His grip on her thighs was pressuresome and wild—sure to mark her skin. Her back rubbed against the rough polymer texture of the cheap couch as he slammed into her, his smirk faltered as his breathing became more erratic. 

Again, he slowed. “Does the princess want to be filled with my cum?” he asked, condescendingly. Entering her fully, he began twirling his hips teasingly so that his girth would compress against every bit of her inner walls in a venerated circle. “Honesty, my dear. What have we learned?”

Ronnie felt entirely debauched with her damp, limp body and her humiliating whines. She wanted to get him back for his incessant teasing, but the euphoria was overwhelming. He must’ve been close, she could tell by the way he kept stopping. So she clenched her lower muscles, squeezing him inside her—babbling out a broken cry of agreement as she took her revenge by bestowing pleasure.

As she'd expected, his composure shattered momentarily at that. He began slurring curses, and leaning in—resting his elbows at her sides. Kissing a line from her lips to her neck, he sucked her skin into his mouth. His rhythm picked up—hard and fast as he chased his climax.

Ronnie closed her eyes, tilting her head, and allowing him to ravish. Although he was glistening with sweat, his cologne still whelmed her, relaxing her as he speared her over and over. She flinched when she felt a sharp and sudden pain on her throat, where he was creating hickeys, but it quickly faded. Unbothered, she let him continue, as she loved the feel of his lips and tongue anywhere on her body.

She wished she could wrap her arms around him, embrace him how he’d embraced her, and she mused about doing so the next time they were somewhere less secluded. 

For now, she pressed her legs into his sides as he slammed into her, emptying himself at last. But he was unrelenting with his latch on her throat. Pity, she wanted to see his o-face, but she revelled in the feeling of his churning tongue on her neck.

Fully within her, he muffled a whine on her skin before tearing his maw from her and licking her where he had placed the bruising kiss. “Shit,” he whispered, pumping into her before lifting his torso from hers and admiring their entanglement, frowning and grunting. 

He thrust into her once more before pulling out, covered in their combined fluids. Sitting back, he stared at his mess for a moment, leaning his side on the back of the sofa and quirking a brow. 

“Are you okay, my dear?” he checked in.

And he massaged her knee…

The reverence…

The tenderness…

It felt like… like nothing she’d ever felt before. 

And she wanted it to last forever.

“I’m good, yeah.” She swallowed, nodding with the smallest smile as if she didn’t just experience a drug-like euphoria because of what they’d just done.

She had to be cool… 

She had to be calm…

He hung his sweaty head, shaking it as he laughed. “Do you remember how I told you that there were things I couldn't disclose to you yet?” he said, his voice quiet and benevolent; although you could hear his smile when he spoke. “I seem to have created a situation that requires my transparency.”

꧁꧂

Read Next Chapter>>

[idyllcy]

from one admirer to another : scrambled

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Dear scrambled eggs,

Thank you for that Ada print. It's going into my shrine (you were weird first, alright? Don't go calling me weird now.) and the fact that it's signed? crying screaming throwing up. Also, how dare you call yourself her day one? I was there when she first debuted you can NOT be more day one than me (joke).

I like my eggs in the form of shakshuka. If you haven't tried it before, you really should. It's delicious. It's basically eggs in tomato-based sauce with a ton of other spices and god it's so good I could just die. My favorite season... probably Thanksgiving. I know turkey gets pretty boring at times, but the cranberry sauce that my friends make is so good it's criminal. And, yes, I am unfortunately no different from you, but that's our secret, alright? I think I do an okay job of pretending to be normal at work.

Life updates... I had a shoot with a random model two weeks ago and I'm unable to get the way their hand felt on my bicep out of my head. I felt like a teenager all over again when they did. I'm not a teen anymore, and it's been a hot minute since I have been. Is this the curse of working with attractive people as a model? It was my first time seeing them, and the director didn't even refer to them by name, so my assumption is they don't do that many shoots. Maybe I'll be lucky and never see them again? Big day for losers in love (me). I'm kidding. I'm moving too fast. This'll be over in a couple of days. It's not like they're as hot as Ada— but they're pretty damn close. Got any advice for a loser who's just fallen in love at first sight?

Other than that run-in with the model, I got a couple of days off last week which I was supposed to enjoy, only to get absolutely obliterated by okaokra's newest chapter on glhf <3. Why am I an Ada stan who likes angst. Why am I cursed to love the way okra writes? I am not immune to the Ada brainrot or whatever the youth are saying these days. Every time I think of Ada I feel a little more like those twitter artist reaction memes of them biting wood.

The good thing about being only semi-well-known in the industry though is the fact that I can still sneak around at local events as a fan. It's nice that masks are so accessible nowadays. I'll be stopping by at the Ada-themed cupsleeve event in Raccoon in a couple of days, so I'll probably mail you a little something from that. So, if my letter finds you late, my apologies.

Oh, right, since we're on that topic. Merry Christmas, and happy new year.

See you around? Christmas

The cupsleeve event is relatively easy to sneak into for Leon. He puts on old glasses from college and a jacket that makes him look a lot younger than he really is, and he orders an Ada drink, grinning at the table on the side when he spots a familiar face.

"You're an Ada fan?"

You blink up at him, visibly surprised, and he takes a step back.

"Sorry, I thought you looked familiar—"

"No! I'm the same person. Yeah, I'm a big Ada fan. I'm running the event this time, actually. I model for spare money to host events like this." You scratch your cheek. "Wanna enter the lottery?"

"And what would I get?"

"A limited edition, signed, Ada photocard."

"What is this, Kpop? —take my ten." He hands you a bill nearly immediately, and the two girls at the table with you jump in their skin.

"Wow, you're down horrendous, huh?" You hand the ten to the girls, patting his shoulder. "How should I get the stuff to you? You have to leave a social or something."

"Mm..." He clicks in his twitter handle, and you blink slowly.

"Can I bid for it?"

"That was not the plan, but I mean—"

"You'd have to out-bid them." One of the girls get up to put their hands on your shoulders, and you scratch your cheek.

"How much did you pay for it?"

"The base price is two hundred dollars." You grin.

"Mm... and if I give you three hundred?"

"It's signed, so no."

"Shame." Leon clicks his tongue. "I would've paid good money for that photocard."

Leon turns his head at the sound of the door opening, eyes widening as Ada herself steps through the doors to her cupsleeve event. The people in the coffee shop yell as she does, too many people crowding around her to beg for a signed autograph on their cupsleeve.

"Guys, give her a little space." You call from the table.

The people ignore you, and you scoff.

"Do you need—" Leon's cut off by your actions instead.

You grab the megaphone on the table and nod at the workers, most of them covering their ears as you yell.

"CAN YOU GUYS GIVE HER SOME SPACE, PLEASE?"

The megaphone renders everyone quiet, and Ada laughs.

"I'll sign one by one at the table. Please let me sit first. I just finished a shoot." She waves thank you to everyone as she takes your seat, and you ask her if she needs anything to drink. Leon finds that it's almost as if you planned it, and as Ada meets eyes with him at the table, his heart flips.

She's literally so hot. He's going to pass out.

"Well, since you're here. Do you want a signed cupsleeve too?"

"Yes, please." Leon fumbles as he hands her his cup, looking for a pen, and Ada hums.

"It's good. I brought a sharpie."

"Can you sign my arm— wait, that would violate my contract." Leon purses his lips.

"Do you model?" She asks almost naturally, signature smooth on his plastic cup as she hands it back to him.

"I started just a little ago."

"Any major goals?"

Leon steps to the side to let the other fans get something signed. "I'd like to have a shoot with you one day."

"I look forward to seeing you at a shoot one day, then." She hums. "Who knows? Maybe we'll meet at a runway too. What's your name?"

"Leon. Leon Scott Kennedy."

Leon's heart flips into this throat, and his cheeks turn red.

God, he's going to pass out.

prev letter : masterlist : next letter

[justmeinatree]

Black And White Film Camera

Summary : photography student harry x reader autumn themed meet cute

Word Count : 1.5k

A/N : fall is in the air where i live and i really couldn’t help myself ✌️

autumn was here. finally. the heat of the summer had thankfully broken, the leaves were turning a mix of bright reds, muted oranges, and golden yellows, and pumpkin spice lattes were in full swing.

you were ecstatic to take out all of your cozy knit sweaters, cute boots, and colourful scarves. going for walks in the park, hot coffee, or hot cider, in hand, an extra skip in your step as you crunch your way through the early fallen leaves.

it was your favourite season, and it was no secret. you’re almost certain the people around you can tell that there’s a new twinkle in your eye, an added sparkle to your rosy cheeks, and a brighter smile gracing your lips.

as you lightly twirl under a tree, having turned to get a better view of the vivid orange colour that this tree specifically seems to embrace every season, you hear a faint, but deep, “excuse me.”

the voice catches your attention, making you twirl a little more than you were expecting, your feet stumbling a bit before catching your footing. a small “oop,” escapes your slightly cold chapped lips, followed by a giggle at the mere thought of yourself falling.

your eyes fall on the tall frame of a young lad, bundled up in a scarf, thick, loose fitted knitted sweater, and perfectly tailored corduroy pants, brown curls tousled from the wind, and what seems to be a fairly vintage appearing camera hanging around his neck.

you note that he seems a bit shy, the rosy tinge of chilly air on his cheeks having darkened significantly as your eyes shamelessly rake over his frame, a friendly smile gracing your lips, “yes ?”

he smiles at the sweet tone of your voice, biting his lip and furrowing his eyebrows, looking down at his camera, “umm,” he hums, taking a breath, “m’not too sure how to say this without sounding like a total creep.”

you giggle, because really, not a single ounce of this man screams creep. his demeanour is more that of a cuddly teddybear that’s much too shy to actually have a snuggle. but you don’t want to put him off, so following that giggle, your eyes flick to his camera as well, eyebrows furrowing in question, “do you want to take a photo ?”

“well, actually,” he bites his lip harder, his gaze falling on yours, cheeks turning a deeper red, if it was even at all possible. “i swear i didn’t know at the time, hadn’t realized at all, i was much too preoccupied trying to work this camera, and trying to get the perfect angle of the tree, and the lighting and such,” he rambles on, clearly a nervous habit of his. “but umm, you were here yesterday, weren’t you ?”

your eyebrows furrow again, a bit confused now as to where this was headed, but you catch yourself nodding, “yeah, m’here almost every day in the fall. it’s my favourite season, love spending it outside,” your face lights up as you have an opportunity to gush over your favourite time of year.

seeing your passion radiating through every bit of you, his smile grows wide, genuine, as he goes on, “right, so, again, i don’t mean to sound creepy, i swear i didn’t know. but i was right over there taking some photos yesterday,” he explains, nodding further away in the park. “when i got home, and sat to go through all of the pictures, i noticed that you seemed to be the focus of all of them.”

the more he tries to explain, in the least weird stalker man way that he can muster, the more you notice the strong blush on his cheeks is not going anywhere, anytime soon.

“i’m a photography student,” he explains further, not wanting to put you off, needing to explain so you don’t end up getting a restraining order against this random stranger, and so that you don’t have an opportunity to speak and shut him out completely. “i have this assignment, i wont bore you with the details, but you ended up in all of my photos. you were absolutely glowing, by the way. not a single bad angle on you, i reckon. and as much as i’d love to keep the photos, and submit them for my assignment, they’re really not fitting to the guidelines. but i also felt a bit weird hoarding all these photos of such a lovely stranger. so,” he trails off, reaching into the small bag that’s slung over his shoulder, pulling out a few papers.

as he hands them to you, you notice that he’s handed you some photo paper, the pictures from yesterday, edited and printed. and he was right, you appear to be the focus in all of them. 

flicking through the images in your hands, it seems to be your turn to blush. you’d never seen such beautifully captured snapshots, much less of yourself. he had obviously done some cropping and zooming on your frame in the editing process, the sparkle visible in your eye as you look at the trees, a slight twirl in the flowy skirt you’d worn yesterday, “these are beautiful,” you whisper, a growing fluttery warmth expanding in your chest.

“you think so ?” he smiles, biting his lip. “wasn’t sure what you’d think of it. was all pure coincidence, i swear. but you just looked so pretty,” his blush spreading down his neck, “i really wanted to meet the lovely lady that seemingly made her way into all of my pictures.”

you giggle, biting your lip, as your gaze finally leaves the photos in your hands, flicking up to meet his eyes, “m’y/n.”

“harry,” he smiles, reaching out to shake your hand, a task that you stumble your way through, both of you laughing at the slight awkwardness, as you try to juggle the stack of photos, and his greeting.

his hand held a welcomed warmth despite the nip in the air, fingers wrapped lightly, yet having a firm hold all around, “swear you dont think it’s weird ?” he asks, wanting to confirm, needing to confirm, really. he would never want to make anyone uncomfortable, it was absolutely not his intention at all.

“i swear,” you smile softly, “these are honestly breathtaking, harry. i almost can’t believe they’re of me. you’re an amazing photographer, and i’m honoured you’d go through all this trouble just for me.”

“no trouble at all,” he chuckles easily, the nerves seemingly at bay now that the conversation is flowing easily, and you don’t want to run off to the nearest police station. “m’just happy that i found you again. came back to try and take some proper photos for the assignment, and here you were again.”

your eyes grow wide, “oh, i’m sorry ! let me get out of your way. i just love this tree so much, i’ll move, i’ll move,” you rush out, gathering yourself, but harry’s quick to cut you off, “please don’t,” he blushes again. “i can take assignment photos any time. can even find myself another tree. i wouldn’t be able to live with myself if i took you away from your favourite fall spot.”

you giggle breathily, intrigued and slightly infatuated with the man you’d just met, every bit curious to learn more about him. so with a rush of confidence that you’ve no idea where you managed to find, “would you be interested in-“ you cut yourself off, the confidence waning, eyes flicked down to your boots, feet scuffing together through the leaves, as you shake your now empty coffee cup, “m’out of coffee. want to join me for another ? my treat. as a thank you for the gorgeous photos. and then i can maybe show you an even better spot for photos.”

you watch as harry’s lips quirk up into a wide smile, teeth gnawing on the inside of his cheek as he nods, “on one condition.”

“what’s that ?” you hum, growing a bit nervous. had you misjudged this man ? was he about to turn creepy on you ?

“i need to work on my assignment, but-“ it’s his turn to cut himself off, weighing out whether this crosses that creep line he’s been flirting with. taking a deep breath, figuring you seem a lot more accepting than he’d originally wrongfully assumed, “will you let me take a few more photos of you on the way ? you’re so lovely, completely glowing in the midst of your favourite season.” 

he watches you blush, nodding shyly. and if it was an excuse to see you again, with the ruse of wanting to share his work, well, that can be his little secret.

……

Masterlist

tags : @gorlsinmultifandoms

[miyaniacs]

Corrupted by Darkness

- Chapter 7 -

Chapter 6 ; Wattpad ; AO3

A/N: Hey.. sorry for not updating... Uni got in the way ... I hope you like the chapter tho :) And thank you all so much for reading and the feedback <3 

"She bonded you way before I did." 

The words keep on repeating in my head. 

Sanguis bonded me... A big white dragon with dead black eyes. Noctis wasn't even surprised I knew how she looked like. He knew I saw her in my head... that I saw her in my head on the worst day of my life. 

It was dark outside as I looked through the widow in my room. Something seemed off, it was way too quiet, no animal was seen outside and when I somehow managed to saw one, it looked like it was running away from something. Resting my head on the window, I scratch the cat on my lap and close my eyes. Just when I'm about to fall asleep, my cat gets up and hisses at something outside of my window. "Huh? What's there?" I ask her and press my face against the window trying to figure out what she's hissing at. 

Suddenly two dark eyes appear right in front of my face. 

My cat screams and tries to attack whatever there is. 

Then I feel it. 

Every cell in my body starts to burn and something's pushing... against me from within. 

"No!" I scream out as I fight against it, throwing everything my soul has to offer against the intruder. I scream and scream and scream, but the burning sensation is too much. 

From somewhere I hear my parents voice and I feel their hands on my body. I try to answer, tell them to go away and leave me alone, but I can't form words, I just keep on screaming. 

Tears run down my face as I feel my parents hugging me, shaking me, screaming at each other in panic. I need to warn them. Need to tell them to run, run from what I'm loosing control over. It's pushing against me, trying to take control over my body, I feel it's power, it's soul, it's thought and everything screams death. 

"I'm sorry." I whisper as my mind goes black and I it taking control over my body. The last thing I see are the faces of my parents crying red tears. 

"Hey little one... hey... heyyy... you're awake." A soft deep voice echos in my head. As I open my eyes I stare at the night sky ... within someone's eyes. 

"What...who are you? Where are my parents?" I panic and look around. I'm in an unfamiliar room, its rather small yet cozy, the windows allow a look at a beautiful small garden, the sun is out and shines in the room, showing small particles in the air. 

"You're save here. I'm Rhysand and you're in my home in Velaris." 

I open my eyes and close my mouth. I really need to stop screaming in my sleep. 

"Nea? Are you alright?" Liam calls out from the other side of the wall. 

"Yes." I yell back. 

"Are you sure?"

"Yes Liam, go back to sleep." 

Rolling my eyes I get up in my bed, put on my small light. The light illuminates my the skin on my wirkst, making the small mark on the inside glow. A smile spreads across my face as my fingers trace the form of the small dragon. Taking a deep breath I get up and start searching for my coat.

The wind blows around me and I pull my coat closer to my shivering body. As if being in a trance something inside of me pulls me towards the flying field. I need to see him, I need to feel save, need to put off the mask I wore for way too long. 

Taking a few more steps I stop.

"Noctis." I whisper and his glowing eyes appear in the dark of the night. 

"Let go of her." His deep voice echos through my body. 

"No." I reply and smile. 

"Why her?" He asks. 

"Don't know... she looked happy."

"And you needed to destroy that?" 

"No I wanted it... but she didn't want me..." I sigh and fake pout. 

"That's why you killed them?" He snarls. 

"Yup." An evil smile spreads across my face, "That little bitch closed me off, hid me in the darkest parts of her soul. But I manage to sneak out. Not often but I did... "

"You sneaked out on that night with Rhys."

"Yes. I was bored, her life was too boring, I needed to spice things up."

"Spice things up?!" Noctis hisses.

"Yeah. She was about to discover her bond with Azriel ... and since his already snapped..." I shrug. 

"It's been years... you're strong enough now to materialize your own body now." Noctis breathing gets heavier and heavier, he tries his best to control himself but its too late. The anger inside of him is too much. The flames shoot out of him. Light blue flames cover the body of his rider and a sinister voice laughs inside to them. 

"Feeling better now my love?" Sanguis smiles and looks up at Noctis. 

[lvrcpid]

front stage center - modern!au

includes: fem!reader. implied neteyamxreader. implied aonungxreader. dad tsu’tey agenda. i had so much fun writing this. the play is hamilton btw.

imagine being in the school play with modern!avatar.

——————————————————————————————

in the beginning!

— you’re a theater kid!

— your schools annual play was hamilton this year

— you just needed more people to audition with you

— you were lowkey scared

— who else better to turn to than your friends

— lo’ak only did it because tsireya agreed off the bat

— neteyam said yes because he actually enjoyed watching the play on disney+

— you had to bribe ao’nung with a date

— kiri is behind the scenes (lights and stage hands)

— spider was in earshot and did it just to be around y’all

— rotxo did it cause he’s also in theater with you!

after auditions!

— lo’ak got the part of james madison and hercules mulligan

— tsireya got the part of angelica

— you got the part of eliza

— ao’nung got the part of thomas jefferson and lafayette

— neteyam got the part of hamilton??? (ooo yuh get it i guess)

— spider got phillip and laurens

— don’t play with spider that boy can SING.

— roxto GOT AARON BURR??

— ao’nung wanted hamilton but the theater teacher said he fit perfectly for thomas…genuinely think it’s cause of the curly hair… OH WELL

opening night

— why was your dad already tearing up???

— you didn’t even get on stage yet

— THE PARENTS GETTING FLOWERS FOR YOU GUYSSSS

— tuk having a special flower just for you

— jake probably gave her candy to hold her over since you guys were doing the whole show which was 2 HOURS LONG

— kiri is stressed out cause she’s literally doing all the work HERSELF

— well she made herself do all the work

— it’s her friends and her siblings for crying out loud

— neteyam and you practicing together

— ao’nung arguing with hair and makeup

— lo’ak and tsireya taking pics

— rotxo is PANICKING WITH KIRI FOR SOME REASON??

— the whole cast is either freaking out or creepily calm

during the show!

— neteyam definitely is going on broadway

— he was made for this???

— jake and neytiri are so PROUD OF HIM

— being shocked because it’s going really good just for act one

— ao’nung being salty cause you and him have no scenes together while you and neteyam LITERALLY GET MARRIED

— you singing your ass off during helpless and that would be enough

— no literally your mom had to bring tissues for your dad

— spider eating the girls up with his vocals

— lo’ak spicing it up with humor that goes off script a bit

— kiri smiling at all of you from backstage but probably still stressed out

— she ate with the stage hands though don’t play with her

— the audience loves it so why not

— tsireya definitely is made for this cause she portrays angelica so well ??

— it was a one night only show since it’s two hours long and y’all are kids…

— THE TURN OUT WAS GREAT

— the chemistry yall all had was to die for , you guys looked like naturals!

after the show!

— you guys all screaming like little girls cause y’all are so proud of yourselves

— neteyam got you flowers and hid them till after the show :(

— tonowari hugging ALL OF YOU

— bear hug anyone?

— tsu’tey still crying cause of who lives who dies who tells your story

— your mom handing you the flowers HE was supposed to give you

— lo’ak was still in character for like a week afterwards

— tsireya was so proud of herself and everyone that she made little gift bags for everyone

— she’s such a cutie i love her

— tuk probably fell asleep, not cause it was boring she actually really enjoyed seeing it , it was just past her bedtime LMAO

— AONUNG WANTS TO JOIN THEATER NOW.

— i can just see him actually having the time of his life on stage

— she was sad she missed it when she woke up

— kiri is probably so relieved that it’s over now she can go home and sleep

— you guys took a group picture that you all got framed the next day

— y’all went to dinner afterwards in your costumes since the theater director said y’all can keep them 🤭

[saelterlude]

welcome to lc musical list pt7, long one bcs i've been stalling lmao (special thanks to the musical gang over at the 18+ lc discord for being the only reason im up to date whilst sick <3)

(pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6 here)

103. 04/05/2024 day, yall Shu Rongbo and Zhu Hanbin duo is here(shortest-shortest duo lol), my two favorite voices and theyre good together plss I want more of them. theres also sulky SRB refusing to get up on the table after getting pushed off by ZHB aaaand disastrous clap lol.

(also, it's srb lg completion day. congrats on being the first cxs who has played with all lg) (nvm, not anymore! theres 2 new lg actors lmao, srb is still the closest to completion though)

104. 05/05/2024 day, back to back Zhu Hanbin clip but most importantly, it's LG UPPIESS CLIP PLSSS Wang Yifei lifting up ZHB is perfection, they cute. also, chaotic bow lmao, ZHB just wanted to fix WYF's sprout.

105. 05/05/2024 day, same performance as above, have WYF getting bullied by ZHB into announcing his lost in basketball today (15:1 lmao)

106. 05/05/2024 night, right after ZHB bullied WYF 15:1, Teng Chunpeng came out with 101 points. What the actual fuck man. So have this rare encore of him being tired and less energetic than usual.

107. Basketball highlights week 1, simba Shu Rongbo, mad Jing Yanqiao, Du Guangyi scored with one hand, Ding Xingchen lost his shoe too. and many many others.

108. Basketball highlights week 2, 110 points Teng Chunpeng, summersault Du Guangyi, cheating Wang Minhui. Zhu Hanbin continues to ignore his opponent, he only got goals on his mind.

109. Extra behind the scenes, bcs i wanna point out, on 00:45 Du Guangyi talked about how tempted he was to score a goal during the slow part of the song. On the week 2 highlight (#108, 1:50) he gives in to temptation, and fails to score a single goal lol.

Du Guangyi is the true basketball god btw. he makes the best shots and whomever he picks to win, win.

110. More BTS vids, Wang Minhui is a basketball failure <3, especially whenever he's going against Bai Zhuoming.

111. 18/05/2024 day, Cai Qi and Wang Minhui have a shoelace fight lmao

112. 20/05/2024, It's Cai Qi and Wang Minhui again! This time they're having a puppy boxing fight. Yes, I meant that quite literally.

113. 18/05/2024 night, I think Shu Rongbo was particularly salty about losing(6:8) to Guo Hongxu this day lol.

114. Basketball highlights week 3, Shu Rongbo gets whacked, Bai Zhuoming backwards shot, Teng Chunpeng high pitched screams, and more!

115. 25/05/2024 day and 03/06/2024, have a pair of Guo Hongxu and Ji Xiaokun mic-cupping shenanigans.

116. 24/05/2024, This!!! The most tender hug, head cradle by Teng Chunpeng and Wu Yihan. WYH in general is very giggly this performance its so nice to see. TCP, ofc brags abt his basketball skills at the end and WYH just pushes him out lol. There's Zhang Jiahao sneak pillow attack too.

117. 01/06/2024 night, Wang Minhui and Cai Qi fighting on the table again? nothing new. Wu Hanglu (half successful attempt at) pushing them both off the table though? That's new.

118. 02/06/2024, Wu Hanglu rightfully hunts down Guo Hongxu after he introduces her as Deng Xianling lmao. it's the LG curse to struggle with names.

119. 03/06/2024, "rock, paper, scissors is boring. we should spice it up, whoever lose gets slapped"- probably Guo Hongxu and Ji Xiaokun backstage. Twice, during People Pursuing Light and the RPS song.

120. Basketball highlights week 4, Ding Xingchen scoring with his shoes?? what's with him and shoes. Sulky Ji Xiaokun. Zhu Hanbin's basketball skill is like Du Guangyi without the nonchalance and effortless look. Wang Yifei and Guo Hongxu 0:0 gameplay.

Closing this list with (the last?) basketball highlight we're gonna get. And at 120, pretty number. Next list, we're starting with Guo Hongxu in orange, 3 new actor debuts (theyre really good btw), the return of hug pioneers WYH-SRB duo, and maybe (based on how long the list gets) the debut of TCP-ZHB duo (aka tallest-shortest). So look forward to that!

[iniziare]

FILL IN WITH DETAILS ABOUT YOUR MUSE AS IF THEY WERE A CHARACTER IN A DATING SIM. (🤭)

NAME — Yelan PROFESSION — (Intelligence officer tied to a certain logical governing body) Mistress of the Yanshang Teahouse, after having fully cleaned it up and turned its reputation around. And it may function as something else after hours, but shh, you wouldn't know.

WHERE THEY CAN BE FOUND — In Chenyu Village (or Fontaine), seated among its locals, engaging in casual discussions surrounding its teas, that year's harvest, tales of days gone by, or perhaps she'll be in Liyue Harbor where she could be doing similar things, much to Ganyu's eternal confusion as to how easily she indulges in such social things, despite not being an extrovert by nature. If she's been too stagnant and repetitive, or threatens to be, she'll flip a dice and possibly find herself in Inazuma. And if we're speaking work (and even outside of what's 'required' of her, then it is, of course, the Chasm.

FAVORITE FOOD TYPE — Cuisine of the... 'piquant' variety, or as some would likely describe it: food that feels like 'your stomach has descended into the deepest pits of hell'. It's not out of any sort of 'enjoys pain' or 'masochistic' type of reasoning, but simply that she grows bored of food as she does of other things. Once you try something even slightly spicy, food that isn't simply... loses more and more flavor.

FAVORITE ALCOHOLIC DRINK — Alcohol is not exactly her thing. She could indulge in it, but she's not the greatest fan of how it affects a person mentally. But, in some situations, I could see her reaching for cocktails like a kir, or a martini (simple red, or we're going fruity, like a blueberry martini to also match the aesthetic), I could also see her reaching for a vesper actually (don't sigh at me), or something more refreshing and unique like a Blueberry Lavender Fizz. Now, if we apply the same logic to her with drinks as we do with food, that she gets 'bored' because she's veered into spicy. Then we need to look at unique and bolder drinks with twists (I had to research a bit): a Blackberry Jalapeño Smash is an option, although tequila doesn't scream Yelan... hmm, perhaps a Boulevardier if we're not adding traditional spice to it, the Blood and Sand is another option when I look at the mashup of ingredients, though the dash of absinthe, while certainly daring, could be as much of a firm 'no' as it could be an intrigue. Any way, I've rambled on this more than enough.

WHERE THEY WOULD GO ON A DATE — Something simple, actually. A walk in the open air would already be nice. She's not a 'thrill seeker', she simply seeks to find something different from her usual, which something as simple as a walk when it's dark overhead, or even specifically out in the bright sun, would already be.

IDEAL GIFT — Yelan is not materialistic whatsoever, and finds the strongest appreciation in those who pique her interest. So this, I guess she has in common with Serval: your time. But outside of that, if insistent, she's quite curious by trade and nature, and comes from a nation deeply rooted in old traditions and thorough history, which is something that's very firmly rooted in her. In that light, if she gets to be exposed to something that she doesn't know, especially in presence of one she enjoys the company of? Perfect.

HOW MANY DATES UNTIL THEY KISS — Considering that she doesn't really "date", or hold desire to really 'find someone', this isn't really applicable. The one time that I have it set for her that it happened (hi hello, the ship main verse), it was on the first, but the date followed a fair bit of time in which interest kind of... simmered and grew. So it wasn't one's usual 'first date'. If we're talking physical altercations, it is definitely quite fast.

Tagged by: @resolutepath 💙 (Do you wanna do it for Ning, by chance?) Tagging: @delusionaid (Wriothesley) @daybreakrising (Blade) @avaere (it'd be comical for Veritas, but only if you wanted to do it again) @aventvrina and anyone else who'd like to do it, feel free to say I tagged you. I'd love to read it.

[addisonstars]

"lucky I love you"

written for day 4 of october for @jegulus-microfic with the prompt "scream"

863 words

James was making a bad decision that he knew he should not be doing; however, he really didn’t care about it or the repercussions. His years at Hogwarts have taught him so. He had the hair bottle in one hand and Regulus’ high-quality, expensive shampoo in the other. 

James knew his little prank would work because Reg refused to use anything other than the best quality products for his hair, in turn refusing to use James drug store shampoo. “It’s not fair you get to use that shit and look that good. If I were to use that, my hair would be a wreck.” Regulus stated one day when they first moved in together. 6 years, a marriage, and a house later, nothing has changed. 

He hated running Regulus’s hair products because it only meant that James was gonna have to go and buy anew, but it was worth whatever was going to happen. He squirted out most of Regulus’s shampoo and poured in the hair dye to where it was before so that way he won’t notice the difference. He set the shampoo back on the shelf in their shower, and played the waiting game. 

***

“Hey love, I’m home.” Regulus said as he entered the door. He kicked off his shoes and set his bag down. He found James sitting on the couch reading a book. Walking over to him, he sat down next to him, kissing him once he was close enough too. 

James smiled against his Reggies lips, because there was nothing quite as sweet, as intoxicating as this, as the feel of his sweet lips on his lips. Regulus leaned away and rested his forehead against James’, letting out a breath. “Mmm” 

Looking up through his dark lashes, James smiled at Reg. “Hello.” James wrapped his arms around Regulus, pulling him close. They sat like that for what seemed like hours, Reggie curled in James lap, talking about their days and other things. James noticed the clock had turned to six, so he sat up and shifted Regulus off of him. 

“I’m gonna start dinner, why don’t you go and shower?” 

Regulus stood up and loosened his belt and tie, “Already there love. What’s for dinner?” It was James' turn to cook tonight.

“Creamy pesto alfredo pasta with chicken. That sound OK?” James asked as he went to move to grab everything out of the pantry. 

“Sounds wonderful.” Regulus walked to the bathroom, stepping in and doing his regular routine. Meanwhile, James was cooking. He was humming lightly to himself while stirring the pot and adding some spices in here and there. He was about to add the rigatoni in when he heard an ear-splitting scream. 

All of a sudden choad erupted. Regulus came running out of the shower with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, shampoo bottle in his hand, a furious expression on his face, and his black hair faintly dyed pink. 

“You fucking little shit. I just wanted a shower after my day, but what do I get? I got dyed hair. I thought you grew out of this stuff Jamie. What in the actual fuck is wrong with you?” He said, fuming at James. He looked at James' expression, which was a mix of laughter turning into guilt. Regulus takes a breath, steeling himself after his little outburst. “You have exactly five seconds to explain. Go.”

“I love you?” James shrugged. He didn’t really have a good explanation for his little prank, except for the fact that the day off of work made him restless and bored and he wanted to have some fun. He told Regulus exactly that. 

Regulus sighed, temper slightly calmer than before. He set the shampoo bottle on the counter, pushing it to James. “Yeah, and you're lucky I love you. If anybody else would have done this, they would have been a dead man walking. Merlin, I’m still considering it.” Regulus stared deeply at James. “However, I will leave you alive as long as you shower with this.” He said, pointing at the bottle of shampoo/hair-dye on the counter.” 

Whatever James was expecting Regulus to do after the little prank, it was not this. “But Reg,” he whined, “my hair, I-” 

“I don’t want to hear it. Karmas a bitch.” He looked at James' waiting stance, and pointed to the direction of the bathroom. “What are you waiting for? Go. I’ll finish dinner.” 

“I’m sorry!” James yelled as he did the walk of shame to the bathroom with the cursed bottle in his hand. 

“I’m not taking back my decision. Or would you rather be dead.” 

“Going!,” he yelled back. James turned on the shower, got his hair wet and squirted the dyed shampoo in his hands. 

***

He walked out of the shower and put on his pajamas. He found dinner waiting for him on the counter next to Reg. Upon seeing James, Regulus laughed. His chocolatey brown hair was streaked with pink from the dye. James rolled his eyes but couldn't help but laugh. 

“You're so lucky I love you,” James said, repeating what Regulus said earlier to him. 

“I know,” he chuckled, ruffling James’s dyed hair. 

my new hobby is making james and regulus married any chance i get tehe

-a.s.

[freeuselandonorris]

i would LOVE director’s commentary on ‘playboy in the grotto’. i think about birthday and anniversaries for the normals being tuesday nights for these freaks basically daily.

SCREAM this is such a fun one!

so, i think i have written about this before but one of my favourite landoscar headcanons is quite simply that lando is just kinda fucking gross. not in a deliberate way (like, he doesn't strike me as the type to tell super disgusting anecdotes or be especially into toilet humour?) but more that he just...kinda revels in dropping control every now and then? their lives are SO regimented, and lando is such a weird little gremlin. i like to imagine him just not showering for a few days sometimes, wearing scrotty joggers, licking up his own come after he jerks off and getting off on how dirty it feels. just normal gross boy stuff you know!!

and i think i have also written previously about this BUT within their dynamic specifically, it is such a gorgeous act of love to me that oscar would not necessarily agree with or get off on lando's grossness (although he's def not opposed to it, particularly) but that lando feels that free around him, and can voice these weird, slightly sordid desires? he fuckin LOVES that. he loves lando BECAUSE he is weird and gross and has an unhinged streak a mile wide, not in spite of it.

soooo while my headcanon for playboy in the grotto is that this is the first time they've tried more overtly edgeplay-style kinks like watersports, they are very comfortable in the filth and in trying out new stuff that lando's, like, seen a meme about or whatever. and it's just not really a thing for them, most of the time? they're not the kind of couple who would make a big production out of like.. Let's Spice Things Up In The Bedroom! it would just be lando pootling in to the living room in his joggers while oscar's trying to watch an episode of line of duty like "hey osc, i'm bored, i think i'm gonna buy one of these really big butt plugs" and oscar glancing at his screen and being like "oh cool okay, make sure you buy the decent lube this time though cos you know how it turned out last time you bought the cheap stuff".

and that, to me, is the HEIGHT of romance.

also: yeah, it's not a big deal for them, but also lando is HORRIFICALLY smug about what a not-big-deal it is, hence his sneering about poor vanilla georgie.

thank you for asking!!

fanfic writers: director's cut

[libellule-ao3]

Little Shenanigans

T-rated | One-Shot | 1 060 words |

Summary: Gossip about her relationship with Quinn is getting on Merula's nerves, and she's determined to divert attention from the rabble.

Pairing: Merula/Quinn (F/F)

Also on AO3

A/N: The adorable Quinn Lee in this story is the property of the no less adorable @eternalchaoschocolaterain, to whom I dedicate this ficlet.💝

I invite you to take a look at her work via the link above, if you don't already know her.

Enjoy!

Masterlist

Rumours about the nature of their relationship spread around Hogwarts castle like flu in December or like cursed Howlers with a Geminio curse.

The image always made Quinn laugh a lot. She couldn’t help imagining thousands of Howlers screaming indiscretions invading every corner of the castle, filled with students - and teachers! - eager for gossip to distract them from everyday life.

Quinn was very amused by the situation, but not so his girlfriend, who did nothing to hide her annoyance, turning her artificial violet eyes, and sometimes even her wand, on anyone who dared to talk behind her back in order to feel more important than the most powerful witch at Hogwarts.

“Don’t these idiots have anything better to do than spend all their time gossiping about every little thing we do?” she would get angry during their secret meetings. "They piss me off!"

Merula appreciated the attention of others for her prowess in the various fields of witchcraft. She loved to arouse admiration and made no secret of it. But she hated the constant attention paid to her private life, which aroused not admiration but unhealthy curiosity mixed with a healthy dose of intolerable judgement. Not because she loved a young woman - wizards were much more tolerant than Muggles in that respect - but because she was the daughter of a famous couple of Death Eaters.

“Let them tell it,” said Quinn, who had been used to being the centre of attention since she started at Hogwarts. “They’ll get bore. Protesting is just another way of drawing attention to ourselves.”

Merula wasn’t convinced. This had been going on for far too long. Days, weeks... months!

So, to encourage the populace to find something else to spice up their miserable conversations, Merula redoubled her efforts to show everyone that Quinn wasn’t worthy of her and that their reports weren’t worth public display. To no avail... Until the day when the two young women faced off in a fierce duel won by the witch of Slytherin.

Now there were more whispers:

“Did you see that? The beating she gave Quinn in that supposedly ‘friendly’ duel?” said an anonymous voice.

“Yes, that time I really thought she was going to kill her. It’s a good thing Barnaby intervened,” replied another indiscreet pupil.

“Speaking of which, don’t you think it’s suspicious? I mean, it’s not the first time Barnaby has been used as a human shield by Quinn. And the way he’s looking at her with those puppy dog eyes begging for a treat...” added another.

“Do you think he wants to go out with her?” said the first.

“Maybe, but I hear he’s already going out with Liz. Peeves overheard Penny telling Andre that Ismelda was furious after she caught them together feeding the giant squid,” informed a new arrival.

And on and on it went... Rumours were like fucking germs spread by the voices of people, using their ears to accumulate as much dirt as possible.

Thinking about all this, Merula tightened her embrace around Quinn’s aching body as she lay on a bed in the infirmary, injured after their terrible confrontation. The witch felt relieved to no longer be the victim of Hogwarts’ indiscretions.Quinn could not hold back a grimace.

“Sorry, I didn’t think you were that fragile,” Merula taunted bitingly.

Like hedgehogs, the witch always prickled up when she was going through a phase of insecurity, and Quinn had learned long ago to decipher all the facets of her personality.

“You’ve got to admit you didn’t pull any punches!” grumbled Quinn, before letting out a weary sigh and leaning back against her.

“We won’t soon have to play this comedy again: today I overheard Haywood telling everyone that the only thing we shared was the air we breathed and that if it were up to me, I’d make you disappear so as not to have you in my landscape, like that!” said Merula with a wolfish grin and snapping her fingers for emphasis.

“That bad? But what did you say to her to make her believe it?”

The young woman buried her blushing face in her girlfriend’s sparse hair, muttering something to do with her contempt for the insignificance of witches who were valued more for their celebrity than their talent.

Quinn burst out laughing, recognising in these words the bite of his girlfriend as she placed her lips at the base of his neck.

“You’re exaggerating! I remind you that we agreed that I would let you win this duel!”

“It doesn’t matter! Our strategy worked and I won’t have to abuse you any more!” teased Merula, redrawing a bruise on her girlfriend’s cheek with a delicate index finger.

“You can’t imagine how much I’ll miss it!

“So you like pain?”

Quinn straightened up, and with one smooth movement, reversed their positions on the bed. Now she towered over Merula, who gazed at her with a mixture of astonishment and defiance.

“No, I'm more of a revenge-seeking type,” Quinn announced mischievously, leaning down to place a bevy of kisses from her temple to her lips.

During the kiss, Quinn felt herself waver, and she forgot where they were, who they were. The entire universe was reduced to this infirmary, to Merula’s mouth and her hands studying her body like no one had ever done before. Nimble fingers slipped under the thin fabric of her shirt, slid down her stomach, making her skin quiver under the coolness of her palms.

“You’d better go. Madam Pomfrey will be back soon,” Quinn whispered against Merula’s lips.

“Lee promised to keep watch!” Merula protested, in the incisive tone she always used when her desires were thwarted.

“That’s true, but we shouldn’t abuse it. It’s nice enough that he’s our accomplice.”

“You’re not wrong,” admitted Merula, inwardly congratulating herself on Barnaby’s naïve disregard for public opinion.

She gave her girlfriend one last kiss before rising from her bed.

“By the way, maybe we should thank him: he was perfect in his role!” said Quinn.

Yes, that's true! Merula mused, frowning. Barnaby was soooo perfect in his role that he managed to irritate the most powerful witch at Hogwarts!

“But we should clear up a thing or two!” she exclaimed, her voice heavy with resentment.

“When you asked for his help, you should have clarified that he didn’t have to carry you like a bride!”