#Your ideas are great...but have mercy on me and write one at a time in a different message

[the-genius-az]

You're welcome!

It can have lots of drama before the little pack has their happy ending. I think part of Azula's redemption + healing arc would involve her eventually understanding that they didn't think they had an option + didn't know it could hurt so much. (Original!Azula herself only realized what was happening in the night before she passed away). With the bond still there, Azula tends to be protective, and a little more forgiving once she sees Ty Lee and Mai do love and need her.

I already am thinking about a "Izumi is Maizula's baby" tbh, now that the A/B/O obsession has infiltrated the Azula-centric part of my brain.

Ty Lee needs more fics where she's not the silly, stupid little girl. In the KS AU, I'm making Azula much worse than in canon to make it work with the plot, considering how canon!Azula is a jerk but definitely not a psychopath or anything of the sort. I really don't like the way fandom demonizes her, for a few reasons, and it also makes me feel weird for writing AUs where she is, indeed, a monster.

Yes. Here's the thing, I like the parallel of Oh Sangwoo, a straight man, being SA'd by his mother & Azula, a lesbian woman, being SA'd by her mother (+ I think Oh Sangwoo hallucinates her at some point? So that's a good parallel). Like, something that works into this specific character hating women so much they abuse and kill them in horrific ways.

(I don't like it either, which sounds almost like a hypocrite with the way I have multiple OCs that have SA in their backstory and I do write fucked up content. And because I also have read a lot of fics that have it in them – thankfully they do tend to work it so, so well. Like, not as a torture porn kind of thing, but another layer of her character. Azula x Ozai CSA seems to be almost a must for Maizula fics, and I eat it up every time.)

When I say "everything possible", I do mean it. It's a dragon AU and when Azulon asks for Azula's life instead of Zuko's (because she's Ozai's favorite), Ursa kills Azulon + takes Azula out of the palace (and Azula's hatred comes from how they abandon Zuko in the palace). Like, Ursa up until that point gave Zuko lots of attention, but there's a silent agreement between mother and daughter that goes like "this boy is ours" because they're dragons and all of that. I can talk for days about this AU too.

- Ash 🔥🍌

Thank you for this, Ash!

Original! Azula herself only realized what was happening in the night before she passed away.

I wonder how sad Azula was at that moment, she must have been screwed.

I already am thinking about a "Izumi is Maizula's baby" tbh, now that the A/B/O obsession has infiltrated the Azula-centric part of my brain.

I have an idea about a baby Maizula, maybe I'll post it later!

Ty Lee needs more fics where she's not the silly, stupid little girl.

I needed to bookmark this...

I really don't like the way fandom demonizes her, for a few reasons, and it also makes me feel weird for writing AUs where she is, indeed, a monster.

I know, sometimes the Aus completely change the characters, that makes them interesting or worse.

I like the parallel of Oh Sangwoo, a straight man, being SA'd by his mother & Azula, a lesbian woman, being SA'd by her mother (+ I think Oh Sangwoo hallucinates her at some point? So that's a good parallel).

I see the potential! I still don't like the SA though, but it's because of the plot.

(Honestly, I'm glad that we agree that it is Ursa who commits the act, sometimes everyone ignores that she is not a saint)

I don't like it either, which sounds almost like a hypocrite with the way I have multiple OCs that have SA in their backstory and I do write fucked up content.

Oh, I actually hate that kind of stuff, any fics, novels, manga and more, I'll leave it quick and fly away! I can't stand him, that's why I don't like Bl very much, he always has those things and the fans normalize him.

Seems to be almost a must for Maizula fics.

They are the only Fics that keep me on a leash, there is little content and I am hungry for Maizula.

It's a dragon AU and when Azulon asks for Azula's life instead of Zuko's (because she's Ozai's favorite), Ursa kills Azulon + takes Azula out of the palace (and Azula's hatred comes from how they abandon Zuko in the palace).

You are a bomb from Au's Azula!

(Sometimes my mind spins because of so much information in English, please have mercy next time).

Azula is a VERY loyal girl, it makes sense that she would be a little confused and angry about abandoning one of her own.

Actually, I think I talked something about Azula/Dragon, and her possessions that are people.

Like, Ursa up until that point gave Zuko lots of attention.

What did Ursa change to leave everything for Azula? I'm not saying she doesn't love her, I just don't think she would leave Zuko for Azula.

[honey-flustered]

Along For The Ride (Part 1 of 2)

MDNI +18 Only!!

Farmer!Older!Beefy!Eddie Munson/ Mean!Bougie!Fem!Reader

Summary: A drunken joyride leads you in the midst of Eddie Munson, who’s seeking repayment for the damages made to his property by you. Fed up with your constant misbehavior, your father makes a deal with Eddie in which you will do some manual labor around his farm in exchange. You’re not too pleased with this arrangement and your differences in personalities lead to a clashing of heads…and tongues?? (8.5k words)

A/N: I have not written in ages. It is really tough being a writer with the pressures I place on myself to be perfect, to gain more likes and followers, to write things as quickly as possible. I’m learning to fall in love with writing again. It’s a slow process but someday I’ll be able to share all the great things I’ve been working on for the past year. Anyway, here is my start to starting my journey again and thank you all for supporting me.

Older!Eddie photo edit by: @/eddiemunsons-missingnipple

CW: fluff and lots of angst, enemies to friends to lovers trope, SLOW BURN, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), mean!affluent!reader, bad girl reader, light smut/eventual heavy smut, bratty!reader, ugly duckling turned swan trope, reader character development, mean friends, minor canon events from tv series (chrissy death, eddie accused of chrissy and other victims deaths), limited knowledge of farm life and work, drunk driving, consumption of marijuana and alcohol, committing of property crimes, return of reader’s ex, mentions of insecurities, descriptive and graphic language, lots of sexual tension, kissing, dry humping, eddie cums in his pants

You bellow out the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Getting Back Together” along with your three friends, not a care in the world for who would be unfortunate enough to hear you in the chilly 3 am evening. The girls pass around a bottle of tequila when your best friend, Tana, ��seated in the passenger seat— attempts to pour a shot into your mouth.

“Babe, no. I drank enough at the club. The guy that asked for my number was practically throwing them at me. I had to kill a plant by pouring my drinks onto the poor thing. Men ruin everything.” You pout.

“Amen to that, sis,” Tana says, snapping her fingers. “Had a guy tell me that he thinks I’m the one for him. Turns out, he’s married with a baby on the way.”

You all playfully point your index fingers to your tongues, faking gags before leading into a giggling fit.

“I had a guy ghost me because he didn’t like me sharing my selfies on social media. Said that ‘they should only be exclusive to him’.” Your friend, Essie, shares.

“I feel like we need to get back at men for the shit they put us through,” Brooke chimes in. “I’m in the mood to make a man fall to his knees, whimpering for mercy.”

“You kinky little minx!” You laugh. “Are you trying to make men pay or are you trying to get laid?”

“Can it be both?” Brooke says, biting her acrylic-donned thumb.

“I say…” Tana calls attention to herself, raising a hand. “We choose a random house on this street to wreak our vengeance. One of the homes has to belong to a man.”

“I’m in!” Essie beams.

“Me too.” Brooke says, high fiving Tana for her devious plan.

“I don’t know, guys,” You say, reluctant to rain on their parade. “We’re pretty drunk but I don’t think we’re drunk enough to want vandalism charges. Let’s just go to one of those rage rooms and let out all this pent up energy. We could scream out female rage lines from our fave movies and break shit.”

“That’s…okay but it’s not as epic as Tana’s idea,” Essie says, leaning forward to be in better earshot range. “Come on, y/n. It’s only for tonight. You know, we’re just having some harmless girl time fun. It’s not like we’ll be breaking and entering. We’re just gonna do some silly stuff then leave. Pleeaaase. I just broke up with my boyfriend. I need this.”

You take a quick glance at the girls who all send big, puppy eyes your way. You sigh then laugh. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

They cheer at your response, knowing that they’ve won. You raise a hand to cease their cheers and they quickly go dead silent. “Since, I’m the most sober one here. We’re doing this my way,” While staring at the road ahead, a smirk slowly spreads across your face. “I get to choose the place.”

——————

The four of you sneak onto the open field, tiptoeing through the tall grass. Based on the smell wafting in the air, you are certain there are barn animals nearby.

With a nasal tone in her voice from holding her nose, Tana says, “Ugh, how could anyone work around this icky smell?”

“Shhh,” You order, putting a finger to your lips. “If we need to be quiet if this is going to be a successful in and out mission. Do you remember the plan?”

“How could I forget? It’s the most basic prank ever.” Tana whisper-yells, holding up the two rolls of toilet paper in her hands.

“It’s still a huge pain to the homeowner,” You defend confidently before letting out a wicked giggle. “He will be so inconvenienced when he wakes up in the morning.”

Tana shakes her head lovingly at you before peering to her right and left. “Umm, y/n, where’s Essie and Brooke?”

Your eyes widen as you unintelligibly peer to your right and left as well despite knowing the space is empty. “Oh shit,” You facepalm. “How could we have let them out of our sight? Who knows what those morons are doing?”

“Hew we awe,” Essie carries a ‘baby talk’ inflection as she materializes from the dark bluish night with a medium-sized pig cradled in her arms. “Evwyone meet Wilbur.”

“I’m sorry but where the hell did you get that pig?!” You say, no longer able to keep your voice to a whisper.

“The barn, obviously.” Brooke replies.

“What happened to not breaking and entering?! I take my eyes off you two for a second and you’ve already broken a handful of crimes.” You scold.

“But we’re saving him, y/n. You don’t want this pig to become bacon, do you?” Essie says, holding up the pig near your face only for it to wiggle out of her grasp and take off running.

“We’ve gotta catch that stupid fucking pig!” You yell and the girls obey. The group comically chases the animal around, slipping and sliding through mud and crops. In the chaos, the pig makes contact with the toilet paper you’ve long abandoned, tossing it around with the help of the forceful winds to guide it all over the field.

You spot the pig approaching the door of a small blue cottage. You dive forward, fully immersed in the thick mud that soiled your white tank top and denim skirt and you cared little for this fact with your concerns focused on obtaining the pig in your arms. He squeals and whines against you as you plead for its compliance.

Suddenly the porch lights turn on, shining down on you like a spotlight. The door swings open and not long after you’re forced to look into the eyes of your prosecutor from the ground.

A rugged, older man with unruly, curls of brown hair cascading down his shoulders and the deepest brown eyes that are as large as buttons. The same eyes that were now staring down angrily at you.

“What the fuck?” He says through gritted teeth. It’s not until he sees the full extent of your wrath that he decides to emphasize his previous statement with a fury of a thousand suns. “What. The. Fuck!”

You swallow hard, releasing the pig as you collect yourself off the floor. The man feels no need to check whether his pet had entered the home safely, wanting his eyes to focus on you in case you tried running.

“I-I could explain. W-we were just—”

“We?” He abruptly interrupts, upholding the gruffness in his tone.

You were afraid that he’d say that. After all, those bitches were a little too quiet for your liking. After looking behind you to confirm their abandonment, you slowly face your prosecutor once again.

Swallowing the hard lump in your throat you begin, you try scrambling for an answer. This is already a very terrifying situation. This man looked terrifying himself. He’s robust in build, littered with tattoos, and had piercings. You don’t see men like him everyday or at all on your side of town. Men usually groomed themselves like ken dolls where you come from. But when you have come across men that look like him, the experience has always been a negative one—-only this time you were the one at fault.

“I’m sorry.” You shrug with an awkward smile then tack on a “Please don’t call the cops.”

He sighs deeply. “I’m not going to call the cops…”

“Oh, thank god.” You sigh in relief, a hand to your beating chest.

“You’re going to call your parents,” He finishes. “And you are going to tell them that we’re going to come up with a solution for this or I will be calling the police.”

“Oh, fuuuck.” You groan.

————-

“I’m so very sorry, sir. Truly,” Your father says after profusely apologizing for the 7th time since his arrival. “She’s been acting out a lot ever since she’d gone away to university. My wife and I don’t know this girl but she is not the y/n we raised.”

You roll your eyes at the comment, texting away at your friends who wanted to know the details of your capture. Meanwhile, you’re too busy cursing them out to care about how badly you’ll be punished for this.

“I’m just glad things didn’t get any worse or when someone could’ve seriously ended up getting hurt.” The farmer says, staring pointedly at you.

“Now I was thinking…though I could very well pay for the trouble and we could be out of your hair, I’m a man that likes to go above and beyond when it comes to taking responsibility. My daughter’s exceedingly aware of this fact about myself,” Your father scoots his seat up closer to the table, fingers together as if proposing a business plan. “It appears that you might need some temporary assistance in tending to your farm work. If you’re looking for an extra set of hands to help with some manual labor for the next two weeks, my daughter is happy to oblige.”

“Excuse me!” You say, attention fully invested in the conversation. “Tell me you're joking.”

“Nope. You are grounded. Meaning that though you are visiting for spring break, you are currently under my roof, my rules. I am still your parent after all. To clarify, there will be no going out with your friends. You are to come straight to

Mr. Munson’s farm every day after your time at your mother’s shop. You’ll help the gentleman around with whatever he asks of you.” Your father explains.

“And what if I don’t?” You ask, defiant.

“Then you’ll be cut off and you’ll have to earn money on your own.”

“Y-you m-mean a j-job?” You ask, horrified.

“Exactly.” Your father confirms.

You stare wide-eyed at farmer Munson who has a prominent smirk on his face. “I like the sound of that, sir. You’re a good man.”

You shriek in anger. “You’re the worst!”

You furiously stomp out of the home, hating your life and men once again.

————

Your father had no doubts that you’d be going to work on the farm once he’d threaten to take away your (his) money. When you arrive at the address, you’re immediately reminded how you're not on your side of town anymore. It’s officially Hickville.

Reluctantly knocking on the door, you hope that Eddie won’t answer the door, praying that he’s changed his mind and took the money instead. Unfortunately, he answers the door with a huge smile in contrast to your deadpan demeanor.

“Oh, come on, lighten up, sugar. I made some of my famous iced tea ahead. One taste and it’ll all seem worth it.”

“It’s not fair!” You rant, pushing passed him. “Why am I being the only one punished? This was all Brooke’s idea. And Essie was the one who stole the goddamn pig.”

“His name is Wilbur,” Eddie corrects. “And who are we talking about exactly?”

“Doesn’t matter,” You sigh. “Bad things always happen to good people.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie says, staring you down.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You really think you’re the victim in all of this?”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we check out the lovely view of the TP’d trees blowing in the wind?” He asks sarcastically, gesturing to his window.

“It’s just a little toilet paper. Never had a little prank done on you.”

“Wow,” He feigns a smile, shaking his head at you. “Your audacity to diminish all the negative things you’ve done to me into the spirit of good fun is astounding.”

“My therapist did always say I have a knack for looking at things on the bright side.” You retort.

“Is that so?” He asks mockingly. “Well then, you’re gonna love this special job I have for you.”

—————

Which leads you to the situation you’re in now. You’re staring into the eyes of a cow whose large brown eyes kind of reminded you of farmer Munson except they actually held kindness in them and not pure disdain.

“There’s no way I’m milking this thing. I have no idea how to do that,” You say, prompting Eddie to raise a suggestive eyebrow at you. “You know what I mean, pervert.”

Suddenly, an idea clicked in your head. Maybe you could use this ‘pervert’ thing to your advantage. He’s obviously single or he wouldn’t be this much of a crab. You can easily seduce him and get out of doing anything!

“Mr. Munson,” You say with a purr in your voice as you press yourself up against him. “I’m actually really good at milking other things after all. You’ve got me pegged at that. Maybe…I can show you just how skillful my mouth and hands can be for you.”

He laughs. He fucking chuckles in your face. How fucking dare he?! “That was rich. Seriously, that performance was just…moving. You can try to sway me with sex all ya want, hun. Trust me there are women and men who’ve tried,” He slightly narrows the gap between your faces, staring you down. “I don’t buckle under that kinda pressure, sugar. It’ll take a lot more than salacious words to make my dick jump. Now why don’t we go back to the task at hand, shall we?”

You’re fuming. This asshole really thinks he can get away with making you out to be a fool. Well, two could play that game. You’re going to make his existence for the next two weeks feel like a total nightmare.

He seats you on a small stool beside the cow before instructing you on how to milk her. You halfheartedly reach for an udder, shrieking at the feel of it between your fingers.

“This is so gross!” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m going to disassociate and imagine that I’m in a niche boutique in Manhattan.”

“Ah, spending daddy’s money even in your dreams. How thoughtful.” He mutters.

“You have no right to judge me just because you think I’m privileged.” You snap.

“I don’t ‘think’ you’re privileged. You are privileged. See the difference?”

You tug on an udder, purposefully targeting him as the milk drenches him. His face puckers his face before staring daggers at you.

“Oops.” You say in a sickeningly sweet tone.

——————

You begrudgingly enter your house key into the doorknob, body aching from the day's work. The moment you enter, your father’s happy-go-lucky spirit engulfs you and it takes everything in you not to explode.

“Hey, honey, how was your first day?”

“Question, father,” You begin, calling him the formal term instead of “papa” or “dad”. “Do you love me?”

“Now what kind of silly question is that?” He reverts back with his own question, befuddled.

“I’m just curious because I don’t think a father who truly loves their daughter would ever put her through the kind of hell I just went through today.” You respond.

“You milked a cow,” Your teenager brother, Aspen, enters the dining room before beginning a dramatic act. “Someone save the poor girl! She’s gaining new life experiences! You are such primadonna.”

“Shut up, ya little twerp.” You say, pulling his hoodie over his face.

“Your brother’s right, dear,” Your father says. “You are being really dramatic. I don’t get it. You never used to be this way. You loved reading books and conducting personal science experiments and geeking out over your favorite movies—”

“That just isn’t me anymore, dad. The sooner you accept that, the better it is for us all.” You grumble.

He decides to drop the topic in favor of keeping the peace for the dinner your mom prepared for the family to enjoy as a unit. But your mind couldn’t help but to wander back to those times where you were seen as a nerd and bullied for being different and having different interests. University was a different story though. There, you were able to reinvent yourself into the hot bad bitch you know today.

But why is it that your father’s words resonated so much with you? Had it been because it wasn’t the makeover or the new friends and partners you’d make along the way…it was the fact that he knew that you, yourself, couldn’t believe your own act. He knows that you're lying to yourself about liking the person you’ve become. No way could ever admit such a thing to him. And it’s not like you’d feel this way forever. Once you’re done with this hell labor with Eddie “The Devil” Munson, you can go back to your popular life.

————

The routine continued including your constant pushback. It went: shadowing your mother for the day with her bridal clients, heading over to the Munson farm soon after, non stop bickering between the two of you for 2 hours, then heading back home to soak your aching body and curse out the world.

Today is no different with the task of you grooming the stupid pig that got you into this mess in the first place.

“Wilbur. His name’s—”

“I know!” You shout at him, gathering the metal pail and wooden brush from the table. You grumpily made your way to the backyard of the home in search of the shed supposedly carrying the soap to clean the pig. When you notice Wilbur rushes out of a trailer home stationed in the backyard. “Hey, get back here!”

The pig is long gone and you don't care to chase after it once your interest is piqued by the mystery home in the backyard. Searching around to make sure there were no signs of Mr. Munson, you enter the place cautiously.

It’s as if the trailer had been stuck in the 1980s. Everything is vintage and old looking but also well kept. You see photos of the younger Eddie Munson scattered around the walls of the home and—-though you hate to admit it—he was just as handsome as he is now. In some of the photos including one pinned to the fridge by a magnet, you can see an older man. Maybe his father.

Your eye catches an old poetry assignment also pinned to the fridge with a large ‘C+’ above it. A little note at the top explaining his grade being contributed to some misspellings and some inappropriate language despite the good work.

You raise the paper to your eyes and read:

If I Were A Hobbit

If I were a hobbit, I’d be so free

I’d frolic in the grass and smoke some trees

With furry feet and a merry heart

From adventure’s call, I’d never depart

With Bilbo’s tales, I’d while away time.

In the beautiful land of Middle Earth’s rhyme

I’d wander the fields beneath the sun

I’d travel it world cause it’s all in good fun

If I were a hobbit, maybe I wouldn’t get laid

But, hey, it’s goddamn worth the price I paid

You giggle, amused at how fun Mr. Munson had been long ago. You wonder what could’ve happened. Immersed in the poem, you were unaware of his arrival until he whispered haughtily into your ear.

“We’re continuing the trend of breaking and entering, I see.”

You jolt away, facing him. “I-I’m sorry. But you said that I had to look for a shed. Should be more specific.”

“This looks like a shed to you, sugar?”

“Trailer…shed…it’s no different.”

He chuckles dryly. “You are a piece of work.”

“Look who’s talking? You know, you seemed a lot more fun when you were a teenager.” You comment, holding up the poem.

“Give me that,” He yanks from your hands, placing it back on the fridge. “Ain’t anyone ever tell you it’s wrong to go snooping around people’s things. Wait, who am I kidding? I met your father. Even if he were to have taught you these things, you’d probably go against him.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” You hiss.

“Right back atcha, sweetheart.” He retorts.

“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I continue to do so.” You say, pushing past him to go into the hallway.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, hot on your trail.

You enter a bedroom and it’s another blast from the past. The typical kind of teenage boy bedroom. It’s no shock to you that he's a metalhead. You begin to rummage through his collection.

“You little brat,” He huffs. “I’m too old to be dealing with this shit!”

“Live a little,” You say, popping in a blues cassette into the radio. “Dance with me.”

He stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed as you begin to dance in circles around him. Your boot kicks up a newspaper article crumpled up on the ground and you go to retrieve it, ignoring Eddie’s protests.

It is an article about 15 years ago that expresses Eddie Munson’s exoneration in the death of Chrissy Cunningham and him receiving only a $50,000 settlement. It also goes into detail that his only known immediate family and caretaker, Wanye Munson, had died just a month before his release.

“Oh my god, Mr. Munson. I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” You trail off, knowing what to say or even where to begin.

“It’s all in the past now,” He sighs. “Besides, I’m fine now. I still have my friends. They are like family. They’ve got their own lives but when they can they check on me. That’s more than enough.”

Without thinking, your arms curl around his body and for the first time you get to feel his body against yours and it’s addicting. He tenses for a moment, unsure whether this is okay but eventually he melts into your embrace.

His beefy arms cradle you, a large hand resting atop your head. Your heartbeats fall in sync with one another’s and you allow yourself the brief moment to nuzzle into his chest, the chest hairs peeking above his tank top tickles the tip of your nose.

You dare to look him in the eyes, seeing them already looking down at you. They were wet with unshed tears, pleading with you for something. It’s the first time you’ve seen that look on his face and like a magnet you're drawn to it. You’re suddenly moving on your own accord, tiptoeing to brush your nose against his. He lowers his face to your level. Your lips are only a mere centimeters from his full ones when the sound of his phone ringing takes you both out of the moment.

He’s quick to pull away as if freed from an intense spell. Excusing himself, he leaves the room and heads outside. You’re left standing in the room alone, the soft, rhythmic melody of blues playing in the background.

Willing yourself to cool down, you decide to go on with your original task and find Wilbur while hoping it’ll shake off the electric feeling he left on your skin.

————————-

Bathing the pig proved to be quite the distraction because this little shit is making you use all your brain power to keep it still. Having stripped into just your bikini and rainboots, you held the pig for dear life as you washed and scrubbed at him and practically yourself.

You notice Eddie from the corner of your eye, stifling laughter as he leaned against a nearby tree.

“By the way, I’ve already washed off all the barn animals, tended to my crops, and was able to make myself a sandwich in the meantime. You, however, you’re still working on Wilbur. Or should I say, he’s working you.”

“Hardee har har,” You say, unamused. “Will you just help me with this pig?”

“Alright, alright,” He says, heading over to you. The pig immediately jumps from his grasp and into your arms. “It’s all in the technique.”

“Easy for you to say. He already knows you.” You grumble.

“Now what you’re gonna want to do is come up behind him. He's a big fella so in order to hold him down you’ll need to straddle him like this and place your hands down firmly on his back. That way he’ll know to stay put,” Eddie says getting into position, his boots digging in the dirt for some leverage. “He’ll tussle with ya a little but it’s only because he’s not used to being handled by other humans. He’s still a little frantic with me even after all these years. I saved him from the slaughterhouse so it comes with the territory.”

“You mean you weren’t going to turn him into bacon?”

“No, sugar, Wilbur’s family. Now get up on here with me. Don’t put too much of your weight on him. Only just enough to hold him down.” He instructs.

You follow suit, straddling the pig and placing your hands over Eddie’s before looking back over your shoulder at him. “Like this?”

“Just like that, sugar. You’re a natural. See? Now I’m just gonna go ahead and get up and you’ll take the—”

“What? No, don’t leave me! He’ll just shake me off again.” You protest.

Sure enough, the pig began to shake the both of you off its back, side to side until you both fell back into the soil. You fall right into Eddie’s lap and he instinctively grips your hips hard, causing you to let out a yelp and scramble out of his grasp.

You sat on your knees, looking at him with wide eyes and he returned with the same expression. The blush on his face intensifies and you follow the way his hands rush to pull the cowboy hat from his head to hold against his lap.

He quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat.

“You’ve got—erm, your bikini bra…” You’ve never seen him so flustered. So speechless. You eish you could relish in it but when you realize exactly what he’s insinuating, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you wish the world will swallow you whole.

Your tit is hanging out for the world to see. A fucking nipple slip! Why did God cease at nothing to make you the butt of every joke?

You briskly adjust your bra, shaking in your boots. The itching desire to run heavy on your mind.

“I-I s-should go,” Your shaky legs somehow allow you to stand as you peer down at him. “Have a good evening, Mr. Munson.”

You stiffly power walk your way to the small cottage home to gather your discarded clothes on the porch. Eddie’s large hand rests on your shoulder.

“Wait! I can’t send you off like this. You’ll track mud in your car.”

“It’s not like I haven’t done that before.” You scoff.

“Why don’t you shower here and I’ll offer you some fresh clothes? I’ll be making my stir fry in case you're hungry.”

“You being nice to me all of a sudden, Mr. Munson?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t help but think there’s some kind of hidden agenda.”

He smiles a genuine 100-watt smile. “No, sugar. I’m just extending some needed hospitality is all.”

—————

You pull on the long sleeved t-shirt Eddie offered you, studying its logo. A horned demon, swords, dice and so on.

“It’s my old high school club t-shirt.” He says, coming to sit beside you on the couch.

“You were in a Dungeons and Dragons club?”

“You know D’N’D?”

“Know it?! I loved that game.” You say, excitedly.

“I didn’t think kids in your generation still played that game.” He laughs.

“Oh, yeah,” You nod. “I was a dungeon master. My campaigns were fire. Anyone who’d joined my games would always go around telling their friends to come see me in action.”

“No way! I was a dungeon master, too! I took it a little too seriously at times but it was like my second passion,” He looks you up and down. “I would have never thought someone like you would be into that kinda stuff.”

“I’ll ignore your sly comment to clarify that I wasn’t always like this back in high school.”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Well, you heard my dad. I used to be a goody two-shoes. A nerd. And I even dressed the part, too. The old me would’ve totally geeked at your Hobbit poem. I’m different now though.”

“What’s so wrong about being a nerd?” He inquires, scooting closer to you.

“I used to get bullied everyday. Boys would ignore me. Even the geeks would only ever see me as a friend. When I got to university, that all changed. Everyone wanted me.”

“I think if I’d known you then, we’d probably be good friends.”

“Yeah right. I seemed like the bad boy type who falls for the cheerleader. You wouldn’t have looked twice in my direction.”

“No,” Eddie says firmly, staring you intensely in the eyes. “I would see you.”

He repeats for emphasis. “I see you.”

You swallow the hard lump in your throat, choking back tears. You’ve never felt so vulnerable. It’s strange to be so open with a man who 5 days ago you would have choked with your bare hands.

“Besides,” He says, breaking the silence. “I think it’s you who would have ignored me. I’m not the bad boy you think I am. Sure, I was a bit of a troublemaker here and there. But I was a huge geek, too. Hadn’t even lost my virginity until age 36. A year after my release. No girl wanted to fuck me back in high school. I was ‘the freak’. To some people today, I still am one regardless if I’m innocent.”

“I would’ve believed you’re innocent. I’d have been by your side, too. Us, geeks, have to stick together, yeah?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”

There’s that magnetic pull again. The attraction that makes you want to be as close to him as possible. You resist not wanting to make that move again but he takes the initiative, leaning in further only this time you're interrupted once again with the sound of your phone ringing. You throw a silent fit in your head. Eddie’s just as frustrated, expelling a long duration of air from his nose.

“Hello.” You say, answering the phone.

“Hey, baby,” A familiar voice says on the line. “It’s been months. I still think about our time in Venice and this spring fever is only making it harder to ignore.”

Now the memories come flooding in. It’s an ex-fling you met while studying abroad in Italy during your freshman year of university. The man who’d taken your virginity and showed you the ropes to popularity. The moment you left Italy you expected him to call you back but he immediately ghosted you. From then on, you became the maneater you are today.

“What do you want?”

You, of course. I hear you are back in your hometown. Luckily for you, I am doing some research here and I was wondering—-“

“Luckily for me? Are you on drugs, Stefan? I don’t care if you want me. You could forget my number and then you’ll forget me. Have a goodnight.” You quickly hang up the call, ignoring his pleas.

“Is everything alright?” Eddie asks, noticing the way you’re hyperventilating.

“I am now,” You sigh. “That was my ex. He was also my first. He treated me like shit made me feel stupid and like I needed him as if he created me. And back then, I felt like I did need him. Then he ghosted me. It felt good to give him a piece of my mind although I wish I could have said more.”

“I think you said enough. I’m certain you hit him where it hurts.” He laughs.

“I should probably go.” You say, standing up from the couch to grab your coat.

“What happened to staying for dinner?” He asks.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Munson”

“Eddie. You can call me Eddie.”

“Eddie,” You say, testing his name on your tongue. You’re not exactly sure if you’re ready to be this informal with him despite your almost kisses and the boob slip incident. “I’m sorry but his call has left me shaken. I think I need to be in the company of my girls.”

“You mean, the girls who got you into trouble and left you behind? The ones your parents warned you to stay away from?”

“Come on, dude, I need this. It’s not like you can give me great advice about guys.”

“I could. Considering I am one.”

“Well, I don’t think we’re close enough for that kind of session.”

“We just had this whole heart to heart. I thought we were seeing some improvement in our friendship.” Eddie says.

“We’re friends?”

“Us, geeks, stick together?”

“That’s just an oath. Doesn’t exactly confirm a friendship between us.”

He exhales deeply, trying to contain his anger. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I tell your father about your little hangout.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Your eyes narrow at him.

“That would suggest that I’d be getting anything of value out of this which I wouldn’t be. Therefore, no this isn’t blackmail but it is definitely a threat. I don’t care if we’re friends. I don’t care to be your friend, sugar. But as the more responsible adult between us, I think it’s within our best interest that you don’t hang out with the people who cause you to commit crimes. So, I think I’ll be taking you home, hmm?”

“And what about my car?”

“I’ll take good care of it for tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for your next job.” He smiles smugly.

If looks could kill, he’d be 7 feet under and you’d already be in hell.

————

Eddie pulls up to the front of your house. The whole ride there had been silent. You angrily gather your things, hurriedly trying to exit his van.

“Have a goodnight, sugar!” He shouts as you slam the door in his face.

Once you’re inside, you do the routine process of angrily ranting out your annoyance with farmer Munson while stomping angrily up the stairs. Your family used to this by now simply goes about business as usual.

You dial up Tana and after a couple rings she answers. “Hey, bitch! I was just about to text you the news. Did you hear who’s in town?”

“Yeah, Stefan, I know. How’d you know?”

“He's been calling me nonstop asking for you. Says he wants to talk to you.”

“I already did. Told him to fuck off,” You say. “And I thought I’d feel a lot better about it but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get to stomp on his weirdly-shaped small dick.”

“Oh, yeeahh. I remember the dick pic he sent you. It is weird, isn’t it? Like an undeveloped banana. Anywho…you wanna get high at my place and watch America’s Next Top Model reruns. I’ve got Jell-O shots.” She singssongs the last statement.

“I can’t remember. I’m on lockdown,” You sigh. “If I get into any more trouble or I might as well hand over a contract of my soul to the devil.”

“Bitch, you are a grown woman. These are the best years of our lives where we’re supposed to live it to the fullest. Sneak out! I’m coming over to pick you up.”

“Tana, n—” But she’s already hung up the call. Sometimes, you really hate this girl. With no choice, you’re forced to make a plan.

Firstly, you create a human-shaped pile in your bed, disguising it with your comforter. Next, you’ll be climbing out of your window and quietly land on your lawn. Finally, you enter your friend’s car and you’ll be homefree.

Although, the climb is a lot more daunting than you anticipated. It seemed like a lot of a higher jump from where you are standing. Tana’s car pulls in and she rushes out to jump up and wave, whisper-yelling to encourage you to do it.

“Tana, this is fucking crazy. You always make me do crazy shit.” You yell down at her.

“But it’s all for the sake of fun experiences.” She retorts. “Come on and jump. Be the bad bitch, you are. Think for a second. WWBD: What would Beyonce do?”

“She'd probably fire you as a friend.” You growl.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, I’m ready to jump. Just be ready to catch me.”

“What?” Before Tana could register what you meant, you jumped, hurtling into her arms and straight to the ground.

“Huh, that wasn’t so bad.” You smile.

“Yeah, because I’m the one breaking your fall.” Tana groans.

“Payback’s a bitch, love.”

—————

“So, is the farmer plowing your garden?” Tana asks, while applying mascara to your eyelashes.

“Tana!”

“What? That’s got to be the only reason you’re officially over Stefan.” She says.

“I was already over Stefan. Eddie’s just my headache.”

“You’re on first name bases with him. Oh, you are definitely fucking him.”

“I’m not!” You insist.

“And did you say Eddie? That’s the infamous Eddie Munson. How could I have not seen the connection? He’s so hot. Is that okay to say about a murderer?”

“He’s not a murderer.” You quickly defend him causing Tana to raise her hands in surrender.

“Yikes, I’m sorry I didn't mean to offend your friend.”

“He’s not my…well, he is. But…he’s not a murderer. He never killed her. I did some digging on the internet and this town used to be really strange back then. Not how it is now. I don’t know but the circumstances in all the deaths that happened back in ‘86 are all too weird. No human could do the things that I’ve seen done to those corpses.”

“Bummer. Guess we’ll never know who did it. I hear people who know of this case still harass him to this day. It’s no wonder he practically lives off the grid.” Tana sighs. A knock at her front door leads her away and you’re alone to ponder your thoughts.

An overwhelming need to comfort Eddie hits you as you thought back to the moment he’d asked you to stay for dinner. You assumed it was all a ploy to get into your pants but now you realize that he’d genuinely enjoyed the little company he’d gotten.

You hear Tana’s footsteps and a set of another coming up the stairs and before you could get a chance to tell her that you’ll be leaving, she enters the room with your ex.

“What the hell is this?” You sneer.

“I just thought maybe you should hear him out.” Tana says with an anxious smile.

“I’m out of here.” You say, grabbing your jacket from her bed.

“Where are you going? Your car’s not here.” Tana rushes down the stairs after you.

“I’ll walk!” You hiss over your shoulder, pulling the door open where you’re unfortunately met with the presence of your father, brother, and the devil himself.

“Mr. Munson? Dad? What the hell are you all doing here?”

“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Your father says.

Stefan steps out from behind you, handing you a piece of paper. “I can see that it is a bad time, mi cara. Please, call me when you can. It’s a new number since you’ve blocked my old one.”

With that, he acknowledges the men before him with a nod and leaves. It’s not lost on you that Eddie stares him down with a dirty look on his face before his eyes land back on you.

“If I could just explain...” You begin.

“No, y/n, I’m sick of your excuses. You sneak off at night to god knows where. You reek of pot and booze. Is this the type of example you want to set for your younger brother? He’ll be graduating next year. Should anticipate that his time in university will consist of lollygagging around instead of focusing on his career?”

You look over to your brother who, instead of carrying a smirk, he had a look of genuine concern for you.

“I was just having fun.”

“Is that all you can think about? When did fun require drugs and alcohol and committing crimes?! Fun for you used to be attending cosplaying conventions, not vandalizing properties and drunk driving.”

“Well, I’m not that anymore so you could fucking stop clinging to the past.” You yell.

Your father is taken aback and you could faintly see the waterline rising in his eyes. “Get in the car. Now!”

You shoot Eddie an angry look. “Us, geeks, stick together? Forget anything I ever said about believing in you.”

Your heart twinges at the shattered look on his face at your statement. No longer wanting to see the extent of your blow, you brush past him and follow your father’s command.

“As for you, young lady,” your father points to Tana. “I will be in touch with your parents regarding your misconduct.”

Tana’s mouth drops in complete shock at this revelation and for a moment you actually are proud of your dad.

————-

You plop yourself onto your bed, crying your eyes out. Not even really crying for yourself but for Eddie. How could you have been so cruel to him? All for the reason that he cares enough about you to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble. There’s no way he’d ever forgive you for the way you spoke to him.

A knock on your door calls to your attention. You reluctantly answer, knowing you’ll be getting yet another punishment. You’re surprised to find your brother, Aspen, at the door.

“What do you want, twerp?” You say.

“You should really apologize to dad. You made him cry. I’ve never seen him like that.” He says.

“I know. It’s just that I hate when people remind me that I was…a loser. I didn’t mean to be so awful to him, though.”

“You were never a loser. In fact, I used to think you were pretty cool. I wanted to be comfortable in my weirdness as you were. I’m happy that you’re finding yourself and all. But you don’t have to change who you are to appease anyone. Not even dad. It’s your life, sis. If you like drinking and partying, that’s okay. If you like reading nerdy books and cosplaying, that’s okay, too. As long as it’s something you want to do and not something you do to make people like you. So stop acting like you’re some psycho fembot that wants to spend the rest of her life in and out of jail.”

“Wow, Aspen, I’m impressed. I did not know you could speak incoherent sentences.” You tease, pulling him into a hug.

“Fuck off.” He laughs, struggling to free from your tight embrace.

————

The next day, after some time to think of your apologies. You began with your father. He admitted to you that he was scared of the thought of you growing up and not needing him and let’s just say that the two of you ended up bawling in each other’s arms and confessing your love and appreciation for one another by the end of it. Your busy event planner mother stumbled into the scene both heartwarmed and confused.

The next one is going to be a tough one for you. But you felt prepared with a handy long written note in your hand in case you needed to find the right words.

However, the moment you arrived on his farm and were met with the look of indifference on his face, you began to break down sobbing. Hard. The thought letter long abandoned to the ground.

His demeanor immediately softens, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

“I-I’m s-so sorry….you…friend…mean…,” You gasp an unintelligible apology through your tears. “Bitchy…geeks…believe you…stupid pig Wilbur…never would have met a great man like youuuu.”

He gives you a small smile, pulling you into his embrace. “I know, I know.”

“Understand?” You ask.

“Yes, sugar. I understand what you said. Crystal clear.”

“Accept?”

“Yes, I accept your apology.” Eddie laughs.

“You don’t hate me?”

“I never hated you. Even when you’re being an annoying brat. ” He says.

“Good,” You sniffle, pulling away from him to wipe your tears and compose yourself. “I’m happy we’re friends again.”

“Friends? Who said anything about friends?” He quips before patting your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re friends again.”

“Now you could get to work and then later you can make me that stir fry that I've been dying to try.” You beam, skipping into his home.

“Only if you’re a good girl.” He challenges.

For the day, the two of you would groom the horses together. Of course, you were still quite jumpy and the bougie princess he knows you to be but it was nothing he didn’t find amusing about it anyway.

“You should seriously take a look at my note though. I really thought out all the things I had to say for you. My weeping apology was only the tip of the iceberg.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think anything in that note will top that moment but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Read it when you’re alone though. I don’t want to see your face when you read it.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you’ll be all smug about.” You say, rolling your eyes.

“And you say you hardly know me,” He chuckles then switches to a serious, gruff tone. “So…Stefan…he’s a looker. Thinking about going back on your word to end things with him.”

You laugh. “I’m playing it by ear. He says he’s changed but that’s every jerks’ favorite line.”

“Just let him know that if he ever hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.” He threatens.

You step into Eddie’s space, his face flushes at the close proximity. Your hand raises up to cradle his heated cheek. “You couldn’t hurt a fly, Edward Allan Munson.”

Lost in your eyes, he fails to notice you tug the joint nuzzled behind his ears. Until you raise it up to his face with a knowing smile. “You smoke weed?”

“Baby, I used to be a dealer. In fact, I still grow my own supply.”

“No way.”

“Oh yeah. Maybe I was the freak but those jocks and cheerleaders were begging for a piece of my supply.”

“You wouldn’t mind if we smoke this one together.” You suggest.

“After your father chewed you out for it last night?”

“He knows I do it. And I learned this morning, after our heart-to-heart, that he was once a pothead, too. And now that I know that you are also a pothead, not only does this confirm my personal theory that most people smoke weed but also this makes our friendship so much more interesting.”

“You’re starting to throw that whole ‘friendship’ word around a lot more enthusiastically now.”

“My friend’s a dealer. I’m going to take full advantage of that.” You loop your arm around his guiding him to an empty stable so you can both fall against the hay.

He picks the hay from his hair, laughing. “I don’t even have a lighter and the fumes are not safe for the animals.”

“Babe,” You say almost insulted. “I always carry a lighter. You never know when you’ll find yourself in an impromptu smoke session or possibly get lost in the middle of the woods. Besides, we released the animals into the field for their little recess. We’re the only animals left here. Just you and me.”

“Alright, fine I guess we’re doing this. Don’t tell your dad about this, though. This will just be a one time thing.”

“Mhm, yeah sure, bud,” You say nonchalantly, busying yourself with lighting the joint. You hand over the joint to him and he protests, wanting you to take the first hit. You oblige. “It’s your joint. Don’t you know the rules? The one who bringeth, smoke..eth.”

“You wanted it badly so I let you take it first.”

“I didn’t want it ‘badly’. I’m not a fucking addict,” You laugh, bellowing out a puff of smoke. “I just thought it’d be a nice bonding moment. Wanna see how you get when you’re high.”

“It’s nothing special. I’m the same as I am now.” He shrugs.

“You mean, ‘a stick in the mud’?”

He bumps you with his shoulder causing you to lay back against the hay.

“You jerk, I just pick all that out of my hair.”

“Serves you right. Now hand me the joint. You’re hogging it,” He tries to reach for it but you raise it above your head. “You’re such a tease.

He attempts to reach for it again, falling on top of you. His full weight on your body is so damn delicious it takes everything in you not to moan. It doesn’t help that the weed has heightened your senses making you feel EVERYTHING. The way his hot breath feels tickling your neck along with the way his curls on his head gently caress your skin as he reaches for the joint. He seems oblivious to the state he leaves you in even after he’s gotten it until he lets out a puff of smoke in the air then looks back down at you once again. It’s evident he can see the darkened lust in your eyes because of the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He suddenly feels so thirsty and it isn’t because of the weed.

Afraid a moment like this will be interrupted once again, you lunge forward attacking his lips. He’s caught fully by surprise, a strangled moan swallowed up in your frenzied fit of passion. You’re the one controlling the kiss, forcing him to roll on his back so you can grind down on the sizable erection in his jeans. The friction from the fabric of your lace underwear and the rough denim of his jeans are an undefeated combination against your puffy clit, sending flood after flood of your wetness to pool between your legs.

The kisses are sloppy. Your hands are everywhere; in his hair, yanking his shirt for dear life. His hands cup your face before entwining in your hair then they’re around your neck, unable to keep them still because he’d like to feel every part of you just as you wish to do to him. Every so often growls would escape your lips as you grind harder and harder against him.

“Fuck, Eddie, you feel so fucking good.” You whisper desperately into his ear.

“So do you, sugar. Ain’t even inside you yet and I’m already about to blow.” He groans, sweaty forehead pressed against your own.

“Can I fuck you, Mr. Munson?” You plead.

And the whine Eddie lets out confirms that it won’t be happening anytime soon. You look between your bodies, seeing the dark, wet patch on his jeans then back up at him.

He’s obviously embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while.”

“That’s okay. Um, this was…this was really spontaneous.” You don’t immediately get off, wanting more and hoping he’d give you more so that he can make you cum, too.

Instead he grabs you by waist, lifting you off him in a hurry. “I’m sorry. I need to—-this was a mistake.”

And once again, he leaves you to your thoughts. All you could do is stare as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, while you began to feel smaller and smaller on the inside.

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | everybody talks

a/n: don't love this chapter. definitely a filler, but the next chapter is much more fun!

iii. everybody talks by neon trees

series masterlist | previous | next

tagged chrisr0driguez, travisstoll, and connorstoll.

lukecastell4n: little break but we'll be back so soon poisonedmercury

poisonedmercuryfan: new music????????

castell4nsgf: omg im excited

stollsluvr: ME TOO

chrisr0driguez: we miss you guys already!

lukecastell4n: fr, we miss seeing your beautiful faces on tour :(

travisstoll: working hard

lukecastell4n: hardly working 🥱

connorstoll: give me my guitar back

lukecastell4n: no

--

“mornin’ five star,” luke tossed you one of your probiotic drinks from the fridge as you entered the kitchen. 

you caught it seamlessly, mumbling a quick thank you. it wasn’t even seven am, but the two of you were already awake. it became a routine since it seemed like you both had the same idea. your coach told you that you needed to workout, even though you were on probation, in the off-chance that you’ll be allowed to play again when the season starts. you figured that the campers would be enjoying their vacations and sleeping in so you’d have the community gym to yourself. unfortunately for you, luke castellan was an early bird. 

your gym schedules synced up and you often found yourself having to make small talk with him in the kitchen while you filled up your water bottle before you ditched him to head to the gym. he would trail a respectable distance behind you, giving you your space, as he walked to the gym. the two of you did your separate workouts, sneaking glances at one another because it was a little awkward that you lived together, went to the gym at the same time, but didn’t talk to each other. 

it wasn’t for a lack of trying on luke’s part. he’d tried to talk to you a few times, but it seemed to not be a good idea to start a conversation before you had your morning coffee. it was funny for the first few days, but he was afraid that it would quickly cross the boundary of being quirky and cute to being straight-up annoying. he lived with you and he showed mercy to the rest of your cabinmates by not pushing your buttons. too much. 

he still occasionally indulged in bickering with you, which seemed to be all of your conversations. you always found something new to argue with him about. your dad was right about you being hard-headed and stubborn, but for some reason, luke didn’t mind. his days at camp were fun, at least, as fun as a summer camp could be, and your interactions kept him on his toes. the usual schedule of meals, rehearsals, and attempts to write new songs, became repetitive after a few days, but with you in his face, ready to argue at any moment, it felt like there was something to look forward to. 

you took the foil off your drink, downing it in one go. you tossed it in the recycling bin before turning to him, “do you go to the gym at this hour to spite me?”

luke chuckled, cracking open a red bull, “the word doesn’t revolve around you, you know?” 

“i know that,” you rolled your eyes, “but you can go to the gym any time in the day and you choose to go at the ass crack of dawn. why?” 

“it’s peaceful,” he shrugged, “the machines are empty and i don’t have to wait. it’s nice.” 

“that’s why i go this early.” 

“see,” he smiled, tilting his head. “great minds think alike.” 

you grimaced at his comparison, scrunching your face up. the sun was beginning to rise causing an orange glow to cast on your face. despite waking up so early and sleeping so late– he’d heard you come in with clarisse at 3 am this morning after a late-night smoke session, luke couldn’t see a trace of tiredness on your features. luke envied you. he definitely did not look that good after 3 hours of sleep. 

you fixed the zipper of your sweater, adjusting the bottom of it to better fit your hips. you were wearing a tight-fitting workout outfit, black nike pros, and the usual vans you wore when you worked out. your hair was in a high ponytail keeping it out of your face, which was a good thing. he’d seen how intense your workouts were and you definitely didn’t need to have your hair in your face while you leg pressed 275. 

“i just feel like i see you everywhere,” you commented, “and everyone just wants to talk about you.” 

luke’s eyes twinkled, “what do they say?” 

“luke castellan is so talented, luke castellan is so hot, blah, blah, blah,” you imitated the words you’d heard from other campers, sighing in discontent. “like shut up already. i thought that it would die down after the first day of you guys being here, but it’s been a week and it’s the same thing.” 

luke followed you out the cabin door, walking beside you for the first time since you both started going to the gym at the same time, “well, do you agree with them?” 

you stopped in your tracks, turning to face him. your eyes raked over his face and his body, contemplating. you weren’t blind. you understood why people said what they said about him. luke castellan was attractive with his curls and toned arms and his stupid full lips, which seemed to always be in a smirk, but the hype was too much. and poisoned mercury’s music was good– great even, but you needed to hear something other than how muscular luke castellan was or how his scar made him look rugged or how his voice sounded like angels singing. you were at your breaking point.

luke stood there, rocking back and forth on his toes and the balls of his feet, patiently waiting until you made up your mind. your lips formed a tight line, “i don’t see it.” 

“fuck, five star,” luke scoffed, unable to stop the smile on his face. he shook his head, curls bouncing around, “you sure know how to make a guy feel special.” 

“don’t need to fuel your ego any more than everyone else does,” you replied, continuing your walk to the gym. 

you didn’t seem to mind that luke continued to walk beside you, which was progress, in luke’s mind. his bandmates have been on his ass about trying to be friends with you since the rest of them developed friendships with you and clarisse over the week they’d been here. 

he’d seen you on the couch with chris watching tiktok videos on how to properly take care of his curls a few times. (luke was not stealing some of the curl cream that chris bought per your recommendation. his curls just suddenly became a lot more defined recently.) he watched you play darts with travis at the activities center and argued with him about why he didn’t need to buy a dart set for the cabin. (he agreed with you there. there was an incident in atlanta where connor was sent to the er because travis managed to lodge a dart in connor’s calf after losing a game.) he once saw you, clarisse, and connor return from a swim in the lake in the middle of the night when he stayed up trying to write a song. (the song remains unfinished on his notepad, tucked safely away on his bedside table. he had no inspiration to write any music at the moment.) 

again, it wasn’t for his lack of trying. you just didn’t seem interested in forming a relationship with him outside of being roommates. it was getting to him. just a little bit. he found himself thinking of you a lot. the boys started to comment on how he hadn’t gotten with anyone at camp yet, despite getting numerous offers from older campers and head counselors alike, but luke shrugged it off and said that he didn’t want to start drama so early on in the summer. it wasn’t a lie, per se, but it wasn’t the whole truth. for some reason, he just couldn’t get you out of his head. 

“i can’t control what people say,” luke said after a moment. “i’m sure it must be so annoying to hear about how great i am.” 

“you are so full of yourself,” you groaned, shooting daggers in his direction. this made him laugh. “you know what you can control, though?” 

“what?” 

“the mess you make in the cabin,” you replied, “seriously, you guys have been here a week and the cabin already looks like a fucking frat house.” 

luke thought about the state of the common area. you were right. the cabin was a mess, empty cans everywhere, crumbs on every surface, and wires from the playstation scattered across the living room floor. the boys weren’t the neatest, they were teenagers after all, and luke had to clean up after them more times than he could count. having his mom on tour meant that he often got stuck with clean-up duty. 

“hey, don’t blame me,” he raised his hands up in defense. “i recycle.” 

“aren’t you a model citizen?” you remarked sarcastically, opening the door to the gym. you pursed your lips, staring at luke. “yeah, i still don’t get it.” 

luke snorted, smiling at you, “have a good workout, five star. looking forward to walking home in silence with you.” 

when you didn’t say anything else, but threw up the middle finger as you walked away, luke couldn’t help but stare at your figure before you disappeared from his view. what a way to start his day. 

– 

“hi, luke,” two girls called as they passed by the boys, waving flirtily at the lead singer. 

luke sent them a smile back, tossing a wink to them that made them giggle as they walked away. it was a miracle that there were no news leaks about where they were. luke’s mom was happy that this arrangement was working out. 

travis swung an arm around luke, “c’mon castellan, save some girls for the rest of us.” 

luke pushed his arm off, laughing, “trav, didn’t you literally go home with a girl on our first night here?” 

“ah, yes, stacy,” travis sighed, dreamily, smirking to himself as he recalled his first night at camp. he shook his head, facing luke again, “but seriously, castellan, ten girls have said hi to you since we left dinner and you’re flirting with them but not doing anything about it.” 

“i promised my mom i’d be good this summer,” he shrugged, stuffing his hands in his front pockets as he led the boys into the cabin. “and i told you guys, it’s too early to start shit. we got the whole summer. spread out your escapades, stoll.” 

luke thought that being back at camp half blood would bring back some terrible memories, especially his last summer there. it was the summer right after his dad left and luke was miserable. he was a moody 8-year-old who yelled at everybody who tried to be his friend, which resulted in him being alone all summer. he sat in the back of the room during music lessons, refused to participate in the end-of-summer performance, and on many nights, cried himself to sleep because he missed his dad. he felt pathetic. 

but so far, surprisingly, camp was actually nice. at his core, luke was a music fanatic, so it was energizing for him to get to talk about his music and his journey to stardom. his favorite interaction so far was with two, younger boys, who enthusiastically approached him and said that they were learning how to play guitar and sing because they looked up to the band. it was a little concerning at first, given that the band’s reputation wasn’t necessarily kid-appropriate, but he appreciated the sentiment. grover and percy walked away grinning from ear to ear when luke made them promise that they’d stop by again soon to show him their progress. 

luke sat on the bar chair, watching as connor and chris turned on the playstation, mumbling about a rematch on 2k to prove that one was better than the other. many things changed in all of their lives, but some things stayed the same. they were still just four best friends; the difference was, now, they got to travel the world together doing what they loved. 

chris and luke met in their freshman english class. chris let it slip that he was learning how to play bass because his mom warned him that if he broke another bone trying to skateboard, he’d have to walk to the hospital himself. she was joking, of course, but chris figured that after two years of failed attempts at learning how to skate, he should hang it up. 

he decided to try his hand at music and the bass became his new hyperfixation. they started writing music in luke’s old bedroom in connecticut shortly after. for years, the songs were just for them. they recorded it on shitty equipment and used garageband to fill in the instrumentals until they met the stolls. the stolls, luke’s neighbors who moved into town when luke was 16, heard them trying to figure out a hook for a song they were writing and offered some help. travis, with connor behind him, introduced themselves and the rest is history. 

poisoned mercury was born. travis convinced the other three that their music was good, that they should go out and play at local cafes and bars. at 16, luke became the front man of poisoned mercury. the song the four of them wrote together on their first day as a band, became the lead single of their debut album. kilby girl spent thirteen weeks on billboard top 50 and in less than a year and a half, the boys had a record deal with olympus records and they were heading off to start the north american leg of their world tour. 

you walked into the cabin with clarisse, laughing as she explained the incident that caused her to have glitter all over her face and her hair. one of her campers was having trouble opening the glitter jar and when she came over to help, the top popped off and glitter sprayed all over her. 

“i feel glitter everywhere,” she shuddered, “i need a shower before we help out with concert prep.” 

you looked around the cabin, grimacing, “it smells like boy in here.” 

“it’s our bachelor pad,” travis called out from the kitchen. he walked out into the living room with a fresh hot pocket in his hand, eyes widening at the sight of clarisse, “woah, what happened to you?” 

“arts and crafts day,” clarisse cringed, falling into the couch cushions. “i’m gonna be covered in glitter for days.” 

“hey, watch out,” connor paused the game he was playing with chris, shoving clarisse slightly. “you’re gonna get glitter everywhere.” 

“ah, yes, because having glitter is going to ruin the aesthetic of empty cans and half-eaten chip bags?” clarisse cocked an eyebrow, pointing at the mess the boys made. you and her were engaged in a passionate rant about how much it sucked living with teenage boys before your arrival to the cabin. 

“we’ll clean up,” chris rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly glancing at clarisse. you had a feeling that cleaning was the last thing on their agenda. 

you sat on the bar stool across from luke, “i didn’t expect to live in the mojo dojo casa house this summer.” 

“the what?” 

“from barbie,” you replied, “when the kens take over barbieland?” 

luke shook his head, “haven’t seen it.” 

of course, he hasn’t seen it. clarisse and the boys fell into a conversation about how she accidentally got glitter bombed. luke watched you as you mindlessly scrolled through your phone, occasionally letting a chuckle leave your lips when you found something funny. he felt a little creepy staring at you like this, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. 

the sun was shining behind you, a soft glow framing your face and it made your brown eyes look like pools of honey. your nose piercing was iridescent under the light, which made luke’s eyebrows raise in surprise. he thought it was just plain silver, but when you tilted your head in certain directions, he could see sparkles of purple and pink. your long hair was thrown messily over your shoulders, a few tangles here and there, and the god-awful, orange camp half blood shirt you wore actually suited you. luke was a firm believer that nobody looked good in orange until he saw you in it.

“you’re staring,” you mumbled, looking up at him. “don’t tell me i have glitter on my face now too.” 

luke cleared his throat, playing with the chain around his neck, “yeah, like a tiny speck on your cheek.” 

you groaned, rubbing the right side of your face, “is it gone?” 

you didn’t actually have any glitter on your face, but luke figured it would be less awkward to say that you did instead of telling you that he was staring just to stare. he nodded, “you got it.” 

“thanks, i cannot deal with glitter,” you got up, walking over to the group. “hey, we can use some help with prep for next week’s concert if you guys are free.” 

“we’re not doing anything, right?” connor looked around. travis and chris shook their heads. “what about you, castellan?” 

“nah, i can’t,” luke said, “promised mom i’d try to write at least one song this summer and i’ve been in a rut so i think i’ll try to do that. you guys have fun though.” 

“perfect,” you smiled, “we can leave after clar gets out the shower.” 

they sent you a thumbs-up before you walked into your room. clarisse disappeared into the bathroom shortly after. luke took clarisse’s spot once you both left. he propped his feet up on the small table in front of him, leaning back on his seat. he waited patiently for the sound of the showers to turn on before he spoke, “she’s hot.” 

“yeah, she is,” chris said, hitting play on their game. 

“don’t even think about it, castellan. when i said start a relationship with her, this is not what i meant,” connor remarked, shaking his head, “we are not gonna fuck up our relationship with mr. d because you can’t keep it in your pants.” 

“oh, you’re talking about y/n?” the three boys stared at chris, who sunk into his seat, blushing furiously. luke narrowed his eyes at chris, a playful smile on his lips. he’ll have to ask him about that later. 

travis blinked, bringing his attention to his brother, “s’not like castellan has a chance anyway.”

luke’s head snapped to travis, “what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“i mean she’s out of your league, big guy,” travis shrugged. 

“well, yeah,” luke rubbed his jaw. he wasn’t that dumb to believe that you were in his league. you were lightyears ahead of him. he’d been rejected before, of course he had, but not since poisoned mercury got big– again, really bad for his ego – but he’d never been counted out before he even threw his hat in the ring. 

“i’m with trav on this one, luke. don’t fuck it up.” 

luke stared at his friends in disbelief, “can’t y’all have a little faith in me?” 

“no,” they said in unison. 

“fuck you guys,” luke flipped them off, ignoring their snickers. “i’m going for a smoke.” 

he really needed to get you out of his head.

[anyaeras]

Agatha & Rio Kinktober Thoughts

A/N- Happy Kinktober for all my little freaks, I sadly haven't had time to write all my fics but I did come up with some NSFW head cannons so enjoy

──────────────────────

Aftercare— Agatha, she was always great with aftercare her go to method would be a bath, she would run a nice bath after a hard session and relax with you while you let everything melt away in the warm tub.

Body Parts— Rio was obsessed with your body, touching you physically as often as she could. But your eyes, a part she couldn't touch but she just loved to hold your gaze, let looking longingly into your iris while her deep colored eyes searched yours

Cum— Agatha loved the idea of being able to breed you, she often would use her magic to enchant her strap, making the whole interaction feel so real as she pounded her cum deep into you.

Dirty thoughts— Rio had an active imagination, her thoughts ran wild with ideas the things she could do to you but her favorite was, Rio longed to use her magic bounding you to the bed with her vines so she could ravish you, edging you while you were tied unable to move, hours of endless playtime all while flowers and vines wrapped around you until your couldn't take it anymore. The found the joy in your struggles, being a slight sadist and all.

Experiment— Agatha was very willing with you, she adored trying things to with you, Agatha was very precise on how she tried things nonetheless, she would research things you wanted to try offering the best experience for the both of you.

Favorite Position— Rio Was a stone top, she loved having you under her, she also loved to see your face while she played with you. So she would always love tying your legs open while having you lay on your back, forcing you to be at her mercy but she could watch your emotions display on your face. All your pain and pleasure.

Guidance— Agatha was a soft domme out of the bedroom, she liked to be in control with things in their lives. Agatha would often step in to order for you, help you get ready, do simple task for you till you were dependent on her help.

Humiliation- Rio had no issue teasing her sub, playing little games to keep them a blushing mess. Rio would mix praising and Degrading to keep her sub embarrassed, Rio would also give you task that were impossible to complete setting you up to fail just to punish you for failing like a sick little game.

Intimacy— Agatha loved the freaky and kinky sex, but she also loved just holding you. Agatha loved physical touch and honestly needed it, the action would often reassure her. Sometimes Agatha felt the best when you and her were cuddled up on the sofa watching tv just with you in her arms.

Jack off— Rio didn't allow you to touch yourself without her, but tying in with her humiliation kink sometimes the witch wanted a show. Rio would order you to touch yourself for her watching with a smirk while you played with yourself just for her. "Aww don't hid your face let me see how good you feel" Rios voice would whisper anytime you tried to avoid her gaze while doing so.

Kink— Agatha biggest kink, was her size kink, the idea of stretching you out on her strap or toys just watching you take everything she gave you like a good girl made every bone in her body melt. She adored watching your cunt swallow everything thing and toy she shoved inside you. She got creative with it.

Latex, Lingerie, and Leather— Rio often wore Leather, she wasn't a Latex person but adored wearing Leather and she knew you liked it when her gloves would rub on your skin. She also had a few whips and Floggers made of Leather that she would use on your body.

Mommy/Mistress— Agatha had a mommy kink and honestly was a mommy dom, to no one surprise she loved when you called her mommy, in and out of the bedroom, tying in with her love for Gentle domination she loved helping you, and babying/ caring for her sub.

Name calling— Rio would often do a bit of degrading mixed in with her Praises. Her favorites being "my dirty whore" or "you like being a play toy? My little slut?" Rios voice would be low but full of lust whenever she got to degrade her little pet.

Orgasm Control— Agatha trained you to be the perfect little pet, you knew better the to cum without mommy's permission. Agatha had you trained to not be able to cum without her orders so you always relied on Agatha's touch for your pleasure.

Power play— Rio loved a good challenge, she actually wanted you to fight back, try and dominate her, all because she knew you'd end up under her begging for her to let you cum after you tried so hard to be so big and strong only moments ago.

Quicky— Agatha didn't mind quickys but they are from from ideal, she would much more prefer to have you for a long period of time, giving her time to really enjoy you. Nonetheless sometimes quickys worked as great punishments when you were being a brat, pulling you to the side of an event out of sight just to finger you till you were close to cumming, then pulling out. Leaving you wet and needy until she had time to handle you.

Ropes— Rio did like to tie you up, but not with ropes, she wanted to use her vines and green magic to tie you up, if she was really feeling it maybe a few thorns would be in the vines. Depends how sadistic she was feeling that day.

Spanking— Agatha used spanking as a punishment, when you were being a brat it was often her method of correction. You would often find yourself acting out just to be bent of Agatha's knee held down with your pants around your ankles.

Toys— Rio had quite the collection of toys for playtime. Yet her favorite was her green strap that had many ridges along the shaft. It also paired well with a small vibrator she would put on your clit.

Unfair— Agatha did play dirty, her tricks were much kinder then Rios thought, she wanted you to fall into her trap as her sweet submissive pet, she knew ever trick to dumb you down and turn you into her perfect pet.

Vibrators— Rio absolutely loved how many uses Vibrators had, she would have you wear them like clothes for her fun. Adding them to your outfits like a little accessories watching you squirm in front of others throughout your day as she turned it on and off edging you slowly. Leaving you overstimulated.

Wild card— Agatha had no problem taking out her anger and emotions during playtime. When Agatha was stressed the sex just got better. Sometimes you didn't see it coming when you got shoved up against the wall into a heated make out sesh leaving you feeling her emotions on your lips.

eXtreme— Rio could be a bit much sometimes, her most extreme kink was knife play, sometimes she would drag her dagger down your chest laying it flat like a threat as she pounded you into the bed, the excitement of the risk brining you both pleasure.

Yearning— Agatha has a lot do trust issues, and when she found you, someone she longed for she couldn't let you slip away, She would keep you close and away from others to the best of her ability.

Zzz— Rio loved to wake you up with her tongue between your thighs, wrapped around your sensitive clit watching you whine and squirm awake.

[beastszai]

mwah what up dawg can i requests dazai with a s/o whos very immature like laughs at the wrong time, whos laughs at inapporiate jokes and pranks kunikida. :33

YAHOOO hello hi hey anon!! TY for the request ehhehe MUA also dazai is so silly i wanna put him in a microwave *having a near death stroke*

✦ Dazai with an immature S/O ✦

♫ Walking On A Dream - Empire Of The Sun

✧ warnings : gn reader・ bad writing・slight hint at suggestive jokes・dazai being dazai (what else is new)・crack?・fluff??? (what the fuck is this help…)

✧ summary : some headcanons (my brain is fried) + you and zaza Dazai are a tad bit silly together at the agency instead of workin

w/c : 1K-ish

Youuuu two are pretty much the cause of Kunikida's daily headaches…

…though it's not just Kunikida losing his mind at this point, with both you and Dazai matching each other's energy, the whole agency is praying for peace every day.

Dazai feels prideful when he gets to get a little laugh out of you, it's easy for you to laugh at things and he finds it adorable

Your laughs and giggles feed his ego TRUST

His favorite moments are when you both seem to read each other's mind, later going back and forth between your ideas of how to annoy Kunikida

Both end up getting scolded and lectured by him, and in a worst-case scenario, he forces the two of you to sit as far apart from each other as possible while dumping piles of paper on your desks.

Your laughs also make him burst out laughing as well no matter how unfunny or serious the situation can be

With his way of wording things and your humor combined, it’s impossible for you to not snicker when he says the most normal things

“Dazai can you over real quick—” “I’m coming!” “…….that’s what she said LMFAOOOO”

A hundred percent made you laugh so much once that your stomach AND jaw were hurting

Dazai is silly, so it’s only fair he gets an ALSO silly s/o

…Today was unexpectedly boring. No special cases, no special encounters with the infamous port mafia… no special anything. Just paperwork. The only way to entertain yourself—and slack off from dealing with the paperwork and reporting on earlier cases—was to cause a little bit of chaos. The awkward silence throughout the agency’s office was killing you anyways…

You took a quick glance at Dazai who was sitting across the room and laying his chin on his desk, half asleep and bored out of his mind. He was quick to notice you looking at him and returned your gaze with his shit eating grin. The one that meant ‘nothing but trouble™’.

Your lips parted slightly to mouth the words ‘I’m bored’ to him, but Dazai was already spinning around in his office chair and wheeling his way closer to Kunikida’s desk.

“Heeeeey Kunikida~ So, you see, me and y/n are a teensy bit bored and I was wo-”

“Get the hell back to work, Dazai.”

The blond grumbled in frustration, not even raising his head from the monitor screen in front of him. His hands typed into the computer with speed, making a continuous clicking sound. Kunikida then paused, fixed his glasses and turned his head to you.

“…You too, y/n.”

He added, speaking in a much less annoyed tone than when he talked to Dazai. He immediately went back to working. The brunette sighed, getting back to his desk with a pout. Though, you knew that he was way too bored to have mercy on Kunikida today—or literally any other day.

Yanking one of the forms put aside on his desk in a swift motion, Dazai carefully turned it into a paper plane. He continued doing so until nearly half the pile of papers was gone and paper plane-ified. You raised your head from your own work and watched in amusement.

“Oh? You knew origami and didn’t tell me? Wow, ‘samu, can’t believe you’ve been keeping such great talent a secret from me!” You giggled, clutching your chest to add onto your dramatic act while spinning your office chairs’ way closer to Dazai. He grinned, busy adding the finishing touches to his 30th paper plane, “Oh I can do much more than some silly origami stuff, trust me on that.”

A chuckle escaped from your lips, loud enough for Dazai’s ears to catch it and smile with pride. He was so focused that he had even piqued Atsushi and Kyouka’s interest—along with Ranpo stealing glances from time to time.

You had long begun to help him with whatever he was scheming, making a few paper planes of your own and dropping the 45th? 54th? Whatever number paper plane onto his desk. While both of you were busy with your paper plane making, Kunikida’s laptop slammed shut; though neither you nor Dazai heard it or the sound of him stomping his way to the two of you. Dazai snickered while you counted the paper planes he’d made, going back and forth with the numbers as you kept losing count.

“Goddammit Dazai, stop distracting me! Unless you want to count all this yourself…” You grumbled and playfully smacked him in the head with the plane you were holding. He chuckled and opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off when Kunikida cleared his throat.

It made you both sink into your seats, slowly turning to face him—arms crossed and impatiently tapping his foot.

“Dazai. Y/n. May I ask what you’re doing? It’s not work as far as I’m concerned.”

Kunikida’s tone was surprisingly calm… the calm before the storm, you thought. Dazai, completely nonchalant about Kunikida’s presence, held one of the paper planes up and above his own head and grinned.

“Entertaining ourselves since boredom is ought to kill us~ Why do you ask?”

Out of curiosity, you decided to unfold one of the planes to take a look at it’s contents. Your vision blurred for a second once you realized what all that paperwork that you had turned into planes actually was… While Dazai was busy showing off the paper plane he had in hand to Kunikida, you desperately tugged on his sleeve, tapped his shoulder, shook his hand, anything to get him to stop talking.

“Dazai… have you even taken a look at what those papers were about?” Kunikida cut Dazai off, brows furrowed.

“Hmm? Oh, no not really! What’re they fo—”

“They’re all boss’ notes and reports…”

You whispered to him in a shaky voice, eyes still glued to Fukuzawa’s signature at the bottom of the crumpled piece of paper.

“Handwritten notes and reports.”

All three of you turned your head to Ranpo, who was fiddling around with a bag of chips, struggling to get it open.

“Those are all handwritten by him. He left them on Dazai’s desk not expecting anyone to touch them, knowing that he barely—almost never works… Just thought I’d let you know.”

A long pause. Ranpo then turned his chair around and aside from his faint chewing, the silence in the office had become deafening…

“…Wow, nice work, detective Dazai Osamu…” You mocked, eyebrows knitted together.

“Hey! Don’t throw me under the bus like thaaaaat, you helped too! So cruel of you, bella…”

Dazai gave you a dramatic ‘hmph!’ and awkwardly turned to Kunikida—who was practically shaking in fury—with a sheepish smile, throwing the paper plane at his head followed by a nervous laughter.

“Nowwww before you do or say anything, Kunikida-kun~ In my defens-”

“…DazaaAAAIIII—!!!”

p.s : its been awhile since ive written and actually posted it so this is a bit wonky I KNOW im not this ass at writing please spare my life i have a wife and kids…

[ab4eva]

‘You Ain’t Shy, Don’t Lie’

Summary: Austin Butler x Reader // You decide to try something new and surprise your boyfriend with a special request.

Warnings: NFSW 18+ only, thigh riding, smut with little to no plot, titty play, dirty talk, tickling, established relationship, language, fluff, bad puns.

Word count: 2k

Authors note: Welcome to my Lazy Ghouls’ Kinktober, where I write one prompt each week of October. Thanks to @chestharrington for the great idea and for putting it together! I knew I couldn't commit to writing one fic each day, so this seemed like the perfect way to participate. Special thanks to @prompted-wordsmith for agreeing to write me a sentence prompt for each kink I chose 🩵 And thanks to Elvis who definitely messed with me while I was writing it and tried to get me to call Austin’s *ahem* “Coco” - just like we call his 🤭

Kink #1: Thigh riding

Prompt (via @prompted-wordsmith): “C'mon now, baby, sit on my lap. I won't bite... unless you ask me to.”

-

Austin is drained after a long day of meetings, but when he walks in the front door to find you curled up on the couch, looking as cozy as he’s ever seen you, all of his exhaustion seems to just melt away. Glasses on and hair thrown up in a messy bun, wearing your favorite oversized Journey tee and fuzzy socks, you’re a sight for sore eyes, and it feels like he’s coming home in more ways than one. He leans against the doorframe, hands in his pockets and grinning like an idiot until you finally notice he’s there, looking up to return his smile.

“Hey you,” you say, setting aside your copy of Persuasion and stretching, taking off your glasses and rubbing the bridge of your nose. You expect him to be sitting down beside you by the time you look up at him again, but he’s still just holding up the doorframe like it’s his job, his long and lean body casually slouched, his eyes dancing with a sort of mischief. You stick out your bottom lip, pouting a little, and make grabby hands at him. He chuckles and launches out of the doorway and towards you so quickly you don’t have time to prepare before he’s on top of you, tickling you without mercy. You squeal and thrash, trying to wiggle out from underneath him, but his long fingers dig into your ribs relentlessly. You can’t stop giggling long enough to get a word in edgewise but you do manage to wrap your legs around his waist and slide to the floor, dislodging his attack for a split second, which you use to crawl away from him, holding up a couch pillow in defense.

“Hey,” you say breathlessly. “Hey now, is that any way to treat someone who has a surprise for you?” Your hair has fallen out of its bun and hangs loosely around your shoulders, your eyes sparkle with laughter and your cheeks have the prettiest pink tint to them - Austin thinks you’re the loveliest thing he’s ever seen.

“Mmm…is that right, baby? You planning on giving me something extra special to end this day on a really good note?” He starts to crawl towards you on his hands and knees, his blonde curls mussed and standing on end after your tussle. He looks like the cutest puppy you’ve ever seen and you can’t help but bite your lip to keep from laughing.

“Mm hmm…be a good boy, now, and you’ll get your treat.” His face flushes crimson and you stand, holding out your hand to him. He grabs it without hesitation, letting you pull him up and lead him to the bedroom. His hands are on your hips, squeezing gently and he whips you around the moment you’re near the bed, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. You feel how excited he is already and your hands move grab his ass, pulling him closer to you. He plants a kiss on your cheek, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear before moving to your neck, starting to nibble softly there with his teeth. You let out a low whimper, your breath leaving your body in a rush as you melt into his touch and he feels you start to squirm a little against him. He smiles into your neck as he continues to kiss and nibble gently at the sweet spot just below your ear that he knows sends electric sparks shooting through your body.

“Babe,” you pant, and it takes everything in you to pull away, “the surprise…” He groans at the loss of contact but keeps his hand firmly planted on your hips. He cocks an eyebrow curiously at you, his mouth curving into a half-smile, his blue eyes deepening a shade darker to navy, his pupils already blown wide.

“It’s…actually two-fold, this surprise. So, first of all…” You take a step back, out of his reach, and grasp the edge of your t-shirt, pulling it up and over your head to reveal a new lingerie set. A sheer black bra and panties, edged with lace, cling to your curves and you bite your lip as you wait for his reaction. His eyes go wide as he takes you in, from head to toe and back again. You see his chest heave, drawing your eyes to that little bit of chest hair peeking out through his open collar and suddenly you need him naked. You almost forget that he hasn’t said anything yet.

“You are so goddamn sexy, babe,” Austin breathes as he closes the distance between you again, grinning as he looks at you and moves to kiss your lips, letting the passion slowly build as he kisses you languidly. His fingers brush across the silky skin of your back, making you shiver and he lets out a groan of pleasure as his hands begin to roam the soft curves and smooth skin of your body, like he can see you better if he feels you.

“You like it?” Your voice is expectant and a little breathless.

“Like it? Sweetheart, I love it. You're so fucking beautiful…and I'm gonna to show you just how much I like it right now...” His head dips to lick a long stripe up your throat and your breath catches. You grab onto his broad shoulders to steady yourself.

“Babe, can we try something tonight?” You whisper, ducking your head a little. “I was thinking…that is I…want to…” you trail off, suddenly a little shy.

“You want to what, babe? You can tell me.” He raises his eyebrows as he lifts your chin with his finger, causing you to meet his gaze. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

“Well…I think…” you take his hand and lead him to the bed, pushing him down onto it gently to where he’s leaning against the headboard. “You’re here…and…bend this leg for me?” you say, tapping his right leg, and he obeys, bending it up and placing his foot flat on the bed. “And I want to…” you stop, suddenly shy again.

“You want to what, shy girl? Go on, whisper it in my ear.” Austin smiles, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer, causing you to lean over him, your ample chest in his face. You blush and lean down to whisper in his ear. “I want to ride your thigh…” you bite your lip and pull away, looking at him expectantly. Austin feels the air leave his body for just a moment and his heart starts to beat a little bit quicker. The blush on your cheeks and your timid smile, in contrast with the almost sinful lingerie you have on, does something to him.

“C'mon now, baby, sit on my lap. I won't bite... unless you ask me to,” he murmurs as he nips your bottom lip with his teeth and pulls you in for a heated kiss, grabbing some of your hair in his hands and pulling lightly. You moan and start to unbutton his shirt, as his hands make quick work of his pants. You help him shed his clothing until he’s naked and in position again, his cock straining and standing at attention. You can’t help but lean down to plant a kiss on his pretty pink tip and it waggles in appreciation. You giggle and his cheeks color slightly.

“One more thing,” you say with a chuckle.

“Ok, pretty girl, name it,” he says with laughter in his voice as well.

“Well…I know how much you love my ass. And I was thinking…what if I faced away from you? And we can watch each other in the mirror….” you trail off. Instead of a verbal answer, Austin just growls and pulls you onto his lap so that you’re straddling his thigh and facing away from him, settling his hands on your hips and leaning in to trail little kisses across your back.

“My inventive girl. I'm going to love seeing you this way.” His hands travel up from your hips and grab onto your breasts as he gently pinches your nipples, making you gasp and grind down on his thigh a little. “And seeing you watching me as I watch you...” He bites your shoulder and you grab onto his knee to steady yourself. Austin starts to kiss and nibble your back, his hands sliding up and down your body as he slowly makes his way to your hips again. He grips them tightly, fingers digging into your soft flesh. You let a breath out as you feel his firm thigh beneath you, already pressing against your sensitive clit. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and a heated look passes between you. His face is filled with anticipation and he can see the pleasure you're already feeling.

“Alright, my princess, let's have some fun,” Austin says as he looks at you in the mirror, kissing your earlobe and nibbling that spot just below it to send a jolt through your body. You moan a little as you start to move on his thigh, the friction sending a shockwave through you. You’ve already soaked through the sheer panties you’re wearing, the wetness of the thin material only adding to your pleasure. Austin let’s his eyes travel down your body, stopping at your breasts as he moves his hands to cup them, kneading gently before slipping his fingers inside your bra, toying with your nipples, teasing them into stiff peaks. He pulls your heavy breasts out of the bra completely, gripping one in each of his large hands. Your head arches back and you slide down his thigh, pressing harder, the slickness from your arousal easing your way.

You look at Austin in the mirror, his face clouded with lust and watching yours intently, his hands on your breasts, his hot breath panting heavily in your ear. Your eyes travel to your own face and are surprised to see how fucked out you look - your face is flushed, brows drawn together in concentration and your mouth parted wantonly. Something about seeing you and Austin entwined like this in the mirror sends a rush through you and you start to speed up your movements.

“That’s it, baby girl, just like that. Ride me good and hard. Put me away wet, just how I like it. Leave your cum smeared all over me. Soak me,” he whispers in your ear, his fingers pinching your nipples harder and that’s all you need to break apart, to push yourself that last little bit until you feel the familiar wave crest and wash over you as you come, squeezing your thighs together against his. Austin’s hands keep you from falling forward. Instead, he hauls you back again his chest, settling you in his lap as his arms wrap around you and your head rests on his shoulder, catching your breath.

“Jesus. Austin. That was…” you can’t finish your thought, still coming down from your high.

“Incredible,” he finishes for you, kissing your temple and smoothing the hair back from your forehead. “You trickster, you. Bet you had this whole thing planned, right down to the book you were pretending to read when I got home.” He squeezes your waist lightly, making you jump a little.

“Hey,” you say indignantly, “I never joke about Jane Austen.” You grin at him in the mirror. “But I’m glad I could surprise you, baby. End your day on thigh note,” you tease. He groans at your bad joke.

“Just for that, missy, looks like I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson,” he whispers in your ear, before flipping you over on the bed, pinning you down and tickling you right in your ticklish spot. You yelp and giggle, but there’s no getting away this time.

-

Tagging some Austin lovers who might be interested, since I don’t have an official tag list: @elvisabutler @butlersxbirdy @precious-little-scoundrel @jelliedonut @missmaywemeetagain @eliseinmemphis @slowsweetlove @purejasmine @prompted-wordsmith @austinsmutler @klizzie93 @burninlovebutler @steph-speaks @austiebuttbutt @areacodefan @stylespresleyhearted @austinstyles @blurredcolour @richardslady121 @joshuntildawn13

[idcbabyialreadylostmymind]

Unwanted

Pairing- Tsu'tey x dreamwalker!reader

Summary- Tsu'tey has fallen in love with someone the one species he hates with all his heart.

A/N- also thank you @eywas-heir for helping me come up with who to write this for 🤭

After you and your colleague Jake Sully had to run from a thantor and survive through the night in Pandora, you were saved by a woman and a man. The woman was a beauty, blue skin illuminating in the moonlight, braids. And the man was just as gorgeous, little white freckles on his face and body, even with the deep scowl on his face you cheeks lit up a little when his eyes turned to yours.

"You two are like babys, always stepping on things don't know what to do." The woman hissed, "Come on we have to take them to Mo'at see what we must do, if the great mother has mercy she may kill them." The man said and your ears perked, killed. "Eywa has chosen them we can't kill them." She said. "Yeah I'll just wait for Grace and the tea-" You say walking backwards from the other three. "No sky-demon you will come." The man hisses at you gripping your arm.

And with that Mo'at, the Tsahik inspected you and said that you will learn the ways of Omaticaya. "You Neytiri will teach this JakeSully." She says hushing her daughter up before she could complain. "And you," she pointed at the man who brought you here "will teach this Y/NL/N." The older woman said and Tsu'tey only scoffed.

Then they made you put the traditional clothes on, both you and Jake pulled in the clothing getting popped by Tsu'tey and Neytiri. You ate with the two and you saw Jake trying to spark conversation with his teacher you thought you should do the same.

"So what your name." You say picking at the fruit peel you had in your hand. He stuck a little bit of food in his mouth, "Tsu'tey." He said. "Tsu'tey." You mummer memorizing it, "Cool." You say picking up fruit. "Whatever demon." He said making you furrow your brows, "Asshole." You think.

It was a few weeks, when you weren't in your avatar you were with Jake and Norm learning the Na'vi language and traditions barely having time to sleep. And when you were in your avatar it wasn't easy, Tsu'tey made sure of it. Anytime you messed up a menacing chuckle would erupt from him, or he would say "You should leave." "You'll never be one of us demon." And honestly you tried to ignore it, you really did. But you got tired of it.

You picked up a arrow putting it on the bow and try to hit the target missing it by millimeters. "You are terrible just give it up." He laughs and you grunt at his words picking another one up. "Yeah I'm sure you weren't Robin Hood when you started." You scoff focusing on the target again. "I do not know what this stupid sky demon you talk off." He says before walking off.

You didn't know it but Tsu'tey was going insane. Everytime he looked at you his heart felt like it was going to explode of his chest. When you smiled at someone or when a male Na'vi would flirt with you he got this unsettling feeling his his stomach. He didn't get it, he hated you he thought but your dazzling eyes, soft body, caring words he couldn't help it but love you, and he hated himself and you for it.

He only had one idea and that was to go to the Tree of Souls and may Eywa have mercy on him.

He says down in front of the tree connecting his queue to the tree, smiling as he hears the voices of his ancestors. He took a deep breath, "Great mother why do I feel these things for this sky woman." He says quietly. "Have I done something to upset you." He says, he took one last breath before disconnecting from the tree and begins walking back to Hometree.

And then he saw you with another male, he felt that unsettling feeling again. Then he saw he was giving you a flower, what! He stomped over, his nose was moving at the overflowing emotions in him. "Go." He said to the male.

Tsu'tey was an intimidating man you can give him that, so the male quickly gave you the flower and ran off. "Thank you." You yell to the running male. Tsu'tey turned to you, Eywa you were gorgeous why did you have to be so beautiful. He grips your arm and drags you somewhere secluded despite your protest.

"What the hell was that!" You say when you finally stopped in the middle of the forest. "Why were you talking to him?" He asked making you confused. "He was asking me about going to the tree of souls tonight I do not know wh-" getting cut off before you could finish your sentence. "The Tree of Souls oh that skwang, he was trying to mate with you." Tsu'tey said jaw clenching at the thought.

"Why do you care?" You say getting angry at his angered state that he has no right to. "Because-" he began to speak but he was going to slow for your patience. "You have no right to be angry first I try to be nice and you are mean for no reason and now you are getting mad because a man asked me to go somewhere." You say face flushed in anger. "So why do you care?" You ask once again this time letting him speak. His hand ran over his face and he scrunched his face in anger.

"Because!" He yelled making you jump.

"Because, you are the bane of my existence," he said. "And the objects of all my desires." He said in a low voice eyes never leaving yours. You looked at him and stepped closer and then he stepped closer, your hands and body's inches apart. Lips closer and closer.

"We should not do this." He whispered breath hitting your lips. "No we shouldn't." You say eyes hypnotized by his lips. "I am to be the next Olo'eyktan and you are of the sky it is wrong." He said body begging to be on yours. "It is wrong." You say. "I don't care." He said hands wrapping around your face and captured your lips with his.

A firework lit inside of you holding onto his muscular arms as your head and lips moved along with him. It was a prolonged kiss neither of you wanting to pull away but needing to.

Finally both of you pulled from the kiss still holding each other and you smiled at him. "You are a very stupid man Tsu'tey." You laugh patting his chest and he smiles and tilts his head up, "Is that so?" He laughs and grabs your chin in between his fingers you shake your head, "Yes." You whisper. His smile grows as his lips connect once more with yours.

[s0xmsstuff]

You can't see it, and I constantly wonder why.

{reader} x y!Wally Darling

Warnings: Obsessive behavior, mentions of harassment, bad outlook on love, Threats of isolation, mental torture, gn! {Reader}

– English is not my first language! If you see grammar problems I will happily accept a correction.

You can't see it, right? You cannot see how this heart hidden in the skin of my chest begs for your attention, for your love, for all of you.

I don't understand why, why can't you hear the beating of my poor heart? Why do you deny what is already written? Why don't you accept it?

It would be better that you accept that you are mine, it would be better that you accept to stay with me, it would be better if you were obedient, {reader}.

It would be better for you.

Because the only thing you gain by resisting is a great hole of despair and horror, where both the victim and the perpetrator are yourself.

You just have to agree, my dear. Just accept your fate, accept that we are made for each other.

Just imagine it; Mr and Mrs/Mr/Mx. Darling

You only complicate things with your negativity, with your unnecessary resistance. None of it will stop our love, my dear. Nothing and no one will.

I am always watching you, from up close of course, I have always been a witness to how your eyes carefully observe the shape of the trees. I have witnessed how the skin of your beautiful fingers plays with the fabric of your clothes, and I have witnessed everything.

Why do you run away? Why are you crying? Why do you beg for mercy? Why you do not trust me? Why don't you look back at me?

I, your future husband, promise with my very existence that I will protect you as the knight protects his queen. I will love you as the sun has loved the moon since its creation. And I'll show you that I love you, just like I do.

I have always wanted to feel more than what I have been forbidden to feel. And after so much wishing, praying and asking... You appeared.

You appeared in the neighborhood with your big and beautiful smile, greeting everyone equally, that day I saw you through the window and I said to myself... ”Someone new, new feelings."

And it was true, you made me feel lighter, you made me feel so shocked, everything you did or said was right in my eyes. I didn't care if what you said wasn't relatively accurate, but for me it was.

You were smarter than Frank

Kinder than Eddie .

Funnier than Julie

More interesting than Barnaby

More passionate than Sally

More attentive than Poppy

More agile than Howdy

I even dare to say that you became more incredible and special than Home. That was almost alien to me, I didn't know why I felt that way. But I didn't dislike it, in fact I liked it.

I like the way this feels, it's like being alive again.

But you refused to accept it, you wanted to live too. I don't get it, you and I could live

together.

So I had to do whatever it took to keep you from leaving my side, it was hard at first I didn't like the idea of ​​hurting you. You are special to me, you know that right? But a few sacrifices are necessary to achieve peace, right?

So I locked you in Home, with me. Together

N/Y; This is my first time writing for this character, and I like the obsessive wolf dynamic. Probably something nicer will go up, but that will be decided in another future.

– s0x

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Carve Out A Place For Me to Sing

Okay so, I had an idea for a story a long time ago and I was going to write this out, but I figured I'd try a hand at making this into a fanfiction first. I think y'all will really like the idea though. Hear me out:

Exectutioner!König

I know others have done the idea, but this is a world I've been building for ages with its own established lore and history. I think you'll all find this to be pretty fun.

CW: public execution, mild descriptions of gore,

Wordcount: 4.8k

Art from This Post

Story below the Cut

Carve Out A Place For Me to Sing

You hated execution wakes*. They were miserable, wretched shows of viscera and torment for the insatiable masses below. You despised the way the crowd roared and cheered as the criminal’s severed head was held up to the crowd, eyes still fluttering with prayers for forgiveness on their trembling lips. You were revolted by how judge Holten would laugh like a great, bellowing tracker* as the criminals would writhe and beg for mercy at his feet. What chilled you most of all, though, were his eyes. Not judge Holten’s, most certainly not Father Kim’s, but his.

Cold blue eyes like the hold of Criah’s-turn* on your heart. A chilling draft through thatched roofs. His blank stare felt like stepping into a frozen forest, lost under a pale sky without neither a hearth or home in reach. Whenever he looked at you, you could feel the cold chill winding up your spine. You were a good, honest woman. A good, honest woman was always afraid of a bad man. Any woman would be afraid of a beast like him.

You shuddered as you kneaded the sourdough bread beneath your hands. Your aunt clucked her tongue at you.

“Well come on! We don’t have all day, now do we?” she shook the dark curls that framed her face, “daylight’s fading fast!”

“Auntie, my arms feel like they’re going to fall off!” you complained as you dropped the dough into a bowl to rise again.

“Well I’ll knock them off if you keep up with your whinging!” she squawked and threw another tray of buns into the oven.

“You know, if you’ve got this sort of energy, you’re free to go out to market tomorrow in my stead,” you tried once more as you drew out another batch of dough to knead.

“I’ve got three young’uns underfoot,” your aunt scolded you, “I don’t have nearly enough time to go out hawking bread to those animals.”

“Animals” you scoffed, “I didn’t think witch Rozlin was an animal.”

“Witch Rozlin is a good woman, but anyone going out to one of those blood shows is naught much more than a pig out back,” Auntie sniffed.

You rolled your eyes as you got to kneading the next batch. It wasn’t like you disagreed with your Auntie, but you were rather nonplussed by the idea of going out and selling buns to the rabid mob that was sure to form in the town square next Brak-Hah’s-watch*. Your Auntie had a point. The three rapscallions that currently out at school would be a handful on a Hollinwake, but all god-watch you’d been looking forward to having the day to yourself. After all, Hollinwake was the one wake in a god-watch devoted to caring for yourself and for your family. It was meant to be a day of peace, rest and personal growth. As such, it figured that judge Holten would schedule an execution for the final day of a god-watch. It was just another tally onto the ever-growing list of why judge Holten was the most deplorable man in Mormonia.

It wasn’t like anyone else disagreed with you. Judge Holten was a miserable toad. He was a stout man sporting a grotesque belly overhanging his gilded rope belt with a pugnacious air to him radiating off him with the scent of his tobacco. He’d walk around town in his blessed scarlet robes, scoffing as he whacked small children and animals alike out from under his foot. It was a wonder that any woman willingly shared a bed with the man. You just wished that Halax* might take a shine to you and smite the bastard from existence.

Alas, Halax had long-since turned her back on you when your uncle had fallen ill. Normally, he’d be in your place to prepare the bread and buns for tomorrow, but he had been struck ill at the start of the god-watch. He’d been bed since last Dandorwake*. You’d prayed at church with Father Kim, who’d kindly offered you a cup of mead and a fresh cabbage from the church’s gardens, but you’d declined and urged him to keep them for someone else. He’d tried to insist while gardening, but by the time he turned to hand one over you were already out the door. Maybe it was a sin to turn your back on a priest when he hadn't finished giving an offering, but you knew full well that he needed that cabbage far more than you ever could.

Last cycle* had been cruel. This turning-time* had been fruitful in harvests, but it didn’t make up for an entire cycle of suffering. There had been nothing but torrential rain to drench the ground followed by ages of heat that left the earth splitting with cracks and coughing dust. Most families had to turn to their own reserves, but of course, Father Kim and the church had no such stores. The church, as any good church ought to be, was entirely dependent on donations to run. With families unable to feed even their own children, Father Kim had to make do with an entire cycle of kitchen scraps and meager growth from their garden. Even now, Father Kim was still bony and frail in frame, a mere shadow of the power and might he’d carried the cycle before.

Maybe it was because you’d denied Father Kim’s offerings that your uncle still lay sick, but you weren’t too concerned. Just last wake, witch Rozlin had come with the town apothecary, Darnell to your door. On seeing your uncle, they laughed and told you he’d be up and on his feet within a couple wakes. They still charged you for their time, but you were glad to only be giving over a handful of brass coins rather than paying full price for some balms. So, with the reminder to wait, your uncle had been urged to rest and you had gone out to give the good news to your cousins.

A spark of embers caught your attention. You realized your Auntie must have left to go grab the children from the school master for the evening, leaving you alone in the bakery to work on the next batches. You heaved a sigh and straightened your aching back momentarily before turning back to your work. After all, you had plenty of work to do.

The next wake had started with you loading up the market wagon.

“Auntie, are you sure you want to sell the salted buns?” you asked as your Auntie piled in another load of bread.

“I’m sure of it,” your Auntie declared, “they’re the best thing I’ve made in moons!”

“But-”

“No buts!” she held a roughened finger up to your lips, “just go! You’ll be lucky if it’s not over by now.”

“I hope it is,” you muttered back.

“And just you be careful about The Axe, alright?” your Auntie worried over you as she adjusted your head scarf.

“Worry about The Axe? Why?” you asked.

“He’s a mean one, he is,” your Auntie warned you, “barely talks but… Well… He’s an executioner, dear. He’s not a good man. You’d best keep your distance if you can.” 

“Doesn’t my uncle deal with him?” you frowned.

“Oh he’s nice enough to your uncle, but to a young lady?” your auntie clucked her tongue, “I don’t like thinking about it. He’s not right in the head. If only I could I’d go with you, but with the little ones…”

You smiled warmly, “I understand. Don’t worry Auntie, I promise I’ll be safe.”

“Make sure you have someone with you when he comes to get his rations!”

You barely heard her as you picked up the handles of the wagon and set off to to the Criahlin’s* stone. It wouldn’t be more than a half watch* to get there by foot, less by beetle. You’d always tried to get your uncle to buy one, but he’d stubbornly refused each time you brought up the idea, pointing out the cost of feeding such a thing.

At the very least, the walk was a good one. The warmth of Brak-Hah’s turn had a spring in your step as you moved down the dirt path, formed by generations of beetles, turtles and lizards drawing wagons from town to town. Being on the outskirts had its benefits, that couldn’t be argued, but you sometimes found the walk to be tiresome. At least today the skies were bright and cheery, much like the sun god himself.

As you pushed the wagon, you let yourself focus on the growing wheat of your uncle’s fields. They were slowly turning a nice, bright golden yellow with the coming of Hanndoal’s-turn*, which was heralded by the trees in the distance turning a rugged burgundy splattered with patches of golden yellow. And as you’d noted earlier, the sky above was bright and blue, a glorious day for an outing. It truly was a beautiful day for an execution.

You rolled the cart through the cobblestone streets to the Criahlin’s stone, where the red splotched platform had been dutifully erected. Already, a crowd was milling about in their fine clothes, all shades of bright yellow, soft green and pastel blues, a fond farewell to the warm sun of Brak-Hah’s-turn* and welcoming in the cool winds of Hanndoal’s-turn. You smiled at the sight of it all.

Already, a few others had set up their stalls in preparations for the day. You saw the farmers arranging their Brak-Hah’s-turn’s crops and hanging up garlands of spices to draw in patrons from the crowd. Across from that roughened few, a cobbler was setting up a place to clean people’s shoes of the blood. Today looked like it was turning out to be a beheading. If nothing else, it was an easy death.

You spotted a familiar dark head of hair and hurried to her side.

“What’s the crime?” you asked as you came up to Salvatrice.

She glanced back at you, the scar on the left side of her face bunching with a grimace.

“Why’re you out here?” she growled.

“Is that how you’re greeting a friend?” you laughed.

“Well, it’s how I greet you,” she snorted as she turned to face you properly, “but where’s your uncle? Usually he comes out to these sorts of things.”

“He’s sick as a tracker right now,” you laughed, “but he’ll be up on his feet soon. We had Darnell and witch Rozlin come out to take a look at him.”

“Why didn’t you get your aunt to come instead of you?” Salvatrice scowled.

“It’s almost like you don’t want to see me!” you put your hands on your hips accusingly.

That at least brought a smile to her scarred face, “I just didn’t think you’d like being here. I know you’re not too big a fan of what we’ve got going on this wake.”

“Eh,” you shrugged, “I can look away. But I already know what I’m doing, what’s the crime here? Who’s getting whacked?”

“Judge Holten found Cramus Wright guilty of murder,” Salvatrice explained, “he punched some poor bastard in the back of the neck so hard that their spine cracked.”

“Wait,” you shook your head, “why’d he do that?”

“Beats me,” Salvatrice shrugged, “but he did it, so here he is. Or, well, will be.”

You looked up at the platform where Father Kim was reciting his prayers to the crowd. Most of the crowd looked at him blankly, only a few bowing their heads with his. Beside him, Judge Holten was scratching his stomach and yawning. His great book of law was tucked under his other arm like a fat black slug.

“Where’s the executioner?” you asked, your voice wavering slightly.

“Leading Cramus, I’d think,” Salvatrice fiddled with one of the skinning knives on her belt.

“So it should take a while to get here,” you surmised.

“You should start selling that bread before he shows up,” Salvatrice reminded you, “people might not be so hungry after.”

“Oh you know they always are,” you groaned, but wheeled your cart back to a spare stall and laid out your goods.

It only took a couple of shouts for people to starting making their way over to you. You rolled your eyes when your Auntie’s salted buns sold out first, but vowed to tell her what a great success they were when you got home. Sadly, your uncle’s browned beetle meat buns weren’t quite so popular, but at the very least your crisprunch buns were selling well enough for you to feel confident in your experiments. Of course, the salted turtle buns sold well, but so did anything your Auntie made. You didn’t quite have the talent for coming up with recipes like she did. At the very least, what you lacked in useful creativity you more than made up for in technical skill. You knew your lattice pies were always sure to win over the crowds.

You passed a turtle bun to a small girl when you heard the yelling from behind you. You turned to look, and immediately wished you hadn’t.

There in the center of the road was a great monolith of a man carrying the soon to be departed Cramus Wright, wailing like a mowler on his back. You shuddered as he neared the square, his heavy footsteps slowly trudging by you to make his way to the great platform. The crowd split silently for the man, not a soul daring to step within his radius. Children huddled into their mother’s aprons and men shuddered at the sight of him. Up on his back, Cramus Wright threw his meaty hands against the giant and bellowed like a swamp toad. His eyes bulged so that even from afar you could see the whites of his black eyes as they whirled round and round in their sockets.

“It ain’t me!” the man’s voice carried through the crisp air, “I didn’t do it! It wasn’t me!”

Judge Holten rolled his eyes as Cramus was strapped into the stocks. He begged and cried until his voice went hoarse as he thrashed against the black iron chains. His neck strained as he tried to move his head from the chopping block, but eventually his body gave out and he slumped down over the wood.

Judge Holten sighed and turned to the crowd. He pulled out the black and gold leather book and started up his readings, calling out with a pious voice that grated on your ears. You ignored his callings to focus on Father Kim, who sensing his opportunity, had kneeled by the prisoner’s side to give him his final prayers. He painted the man’s face in pigmented oils, forming complex patterns that linked and looped across his cheeks up to his forehead, where Father Kim painted a bright and glorious eye in red. When he’d finished, he kissed the man’s forehead and stepped back to stand beside the half-giant and speak to him. The crowd roared and cheered as Judge Holten whipped them up into a fury, but you saw past them to the silent duo who stood waiting by the edge of the worn wood platform.

There with his cursed black hood stood the half giant only known in the village as ‘The Axe’. He was a horrendous man, what with his tremendous body and his hulking pose. He stood out in any crowd he stood in, a shrouded wraith covered in dark cloth from head to toe, save only for a tan tunic he tucked in with a girthy black leather belt. He lorded above Father Kim, and yet there was something so tender in seeing a man born of blood and death bowing down so that a chosen holy spirit could whisper into his ear. You couldn’t see his eyes from here (and thank Halax for that), but you could see the man’s shoulders shake with a good laugh.

Eventually, Judge Holten closed his book and tucked it back under his left arm, turning to face the unfortunate Cramus Wright.

“Cramus Wright,” Judge Holten’s voice boomed around you, “you are found to be guilty of murder in the highest degree. Additionally, you are charged with the theft of four-hundred gold coins, thirty-eight silver coins, forty five bronze coins, and ten copper coins. You are hereby deemed unfit to live amongst common man, and are to be beheaded with a blunt axe. May Forruxik* have mercy on you.”

Your knees felt weak. A blunt axe? That seemed absolutely barbaric, and yet the crowd cheered all the same.

From the back, you saw The Axe take his namesake axe from his side, rusted red with a grotty hardwood handle. He twirled it expertly in one gloved hand as he walked forth, ignoring Cramus’s screams and the cheering of the crowd. He leisurely sauntered to the side and looked down on Cramus. He bent in half to lean down to the man’s ear. A brief exchange was made, and The Axe rose back up to his full monstrous height and raised the axe up high above his head in his tremendous hands. The crowd was silent as The Axe took a deep breath, momentarily soaking in the moment, then swung down with all his might. You turned away just in time to hear a fleshy thud.

The crowd screamed with wild delight as Cramus’s head was raised up his, painting The Axe’s creamy tunic in bright scarlet red as blood rained down upon the crowd. They eagerly surged forward to try and catch some of it on any piece of clothing, anything to keep as a memento of the event. The Axe looked down upon them with those cold, cold eyes. You could see the sheer hatred and disdain from where you stood at your stall. You shivered as The Axe took the head and hurled it into the crowd to be torn apart. They grappled over it like wild lizards, teeth gnashing and spit flying as they tried to get a piece for themselves.

When you looked back at the stage, Father Kim had his hand on The Axe’s bicep and was speaking to him. Judge Holten was stepping down the platform stairs to make way for the morticians that crawled up from the earth to take their prize. They’d get the head in about an hour, when all was said and done. If they were lucky it’d be picked clean by then.

You sneered at the display, and instead focused your energy on making your sales to the now-ravenous mob.

You made your sales easily. It was sometimes easier to turn your brain off and just take the coins, tuck them into the pouch on your belt. You worked quickly, efficiently, not fully realizing how many you’d gotten through until the sky started to turn and the crowds dwindled to nothing.

Only once all the patrons had left for the day did you notice a shadow crossing your stall.

You looked up, only to immediately freeze under the watch of those frozen eyes.

“Hallo?” his voice was strangely accented, “I am here for my rations.”

You blinked as you took in The Axe. You’d never seen him this close before, where you could actually see the red trails that hung below the holes he cut out for his eyes.

“Your rations?” you whimpered as you trembled.

The Axe nodded slowly, almost as though you were stupid.

You looked around your stall, but it was bare of any goods. Everything had been sold that day. What did he mean?

“What rations?” you managed to squeak out.

“My bread,” The Axe said as though that might help clarify his meaning, “I want my bread. The provisions bread.”

You blinked up at him.

“What provisions bread?” you asked, now confused more than afraid.

“For my duties I am given rations by the council,” The Axe explained in his whispery voice, “your uncle always puts them aside for me.”

Oh! The rations! Surely your auntie had packed them somewhere.

You turned and rummaged through the cart, but there wasn’t so much as a bun to give over. The shelves under your stall held naught more than a coating of fresh crumbs. You turned up to him with a frown, “I’m sorry, but I don’t have any bread for you. Are you sure that you’re meant to get rations from us today?”

“There is no other miller in the village,” The Axe grunted, “do you not have my rations?”

You cringed at his accusations and subtly tried to shift your coin pouch away, ever so carefully creeping from him as you told him, “I don’t have your rations. I’m sorry.”

The Axe stood still. You couldn’t help but freeze under his icy eyes. You swore you saw rage like no other in those Criah’s turn eyes, cold and billowing out like a hailing gale. He looked you up and down with those frosted eyes before letting out a puff of air, making his black mask billow out before resting back on his face.

“Then next time,” he said quietly.

You turned to leave but he coughed to grab your attention.

“What?” you asked, a bit ruder than you intended.

“Is your uncle alright?”

You lowered your tensed shoulders, then scowled, “Why would you care? You’re not looking for him, are you?”

The Axe swung his head back and forth slowly, “I just want to know if he’s alright. He’s kind when giving me my rations. What happened to him?”

“He’s sick,” you said tersely.

“A shame,” The Axe said quietly, “I hate to hear that a good friend is suffering.”

Your scowl deepened, “What do you mean? That’s literally your job. You kill people all the time. You make people suffer for money. If you don’t like hurting people, then why are you still here?”

“It pays well,” The Axe muttered, “and it’s all I’m allowed to do, anyways.”

You paused. What in Mormonia* was he talking about?

“Couldn’t you get a job as a tailor? Maybe a glove maker?” you offered.

“Who would take an executioner’s son as a journeyman?” The Axe chuckled, “you see how the others are afraid to even be near me. Nobody would take me in.”

You drummed your fingers on the counter, “Why don’t you go to another town?”

“With what work history? Nobody will hire me,” The Axe supplied.

You nodded slowly before grimacing and offering your final solution, “Why don’t you become an adventurer? Somebody as big as you would make a good fighter, right?”

“And leave my home?” The Axe shook his head, “I love my home. I could never abandon what little I have. And anyways, what if I lose it all? What if I lose more than what I have now? Nobody likes me here, but this place is safe. I’m happier here.”

You leaned on the top of the stall, curling your fingers into a fist under your chin as you thought carefully. The Axe didn’t seem quite so scary now. You’d always figured him to be rude and abrasive, a beast of a man, but now that you spoke to him he seemed just as nervous of you as you of him, if a bit (understandably) melancholic.

You tried to think of another solution, but all that came up was, “Why don’t you make somebody else do your job?”

“Hah!” The Axe barked, “nobody can do my job as well as I can. They would draw out the pain, make the prisoners suffer. I make it quick! I try to make it as painless as possible. After all, it might be my head on the stocks one day,” his eyes softened, “I can only hope whoever’s next is as forgiving as I am.”

You nodded slowly. In the end, he managed to take a man’s head off with one sweep of a dull axe. There wasn’t another man in the village that you could imagine being able to pull off the same feat. He easily could have drawn out the killing, had every excuse with a dull axe, and yet he chose to make it as quick as possible. 

“So, you really don’t have a choice,” you concluded.

The Axe shook his head mournfully.

“That…” you slumped a bit, “that’s terrible. I’m so sorry you have to do this.”

“It’s not so bad,” The Axe offered, “just lonely.”

“Lonely?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Lonely,” The Axe nodded, “only a small few are willing to speak to me, and only because they must. I am friends with Darnell, Witch Rozlin, and Father Kim. Occasionally, Sister Callisto or Sister Mila will speak to me. But if they are not forced to speak with me? Nobody speaks to me. Everyone in this village hates me. If they don’t hate me, they are afraid of me.

“So,” The Axe shrugged, “I am lonely.”

You frowned at the thought. It sounded like a miserable existence. You’d always known the community to welcome you with open arms. You laughed with neighbors, chatted with vendors, haggled with patrons with ease. Life was always busy with five nieces and nephews running underfoot in at home. 

The Axe, though, was a different case.

You knew The Axe to be the only son of a waif of a woman and a giant man that had hung himself after his wife passed. For at least four years, you knew the Axe to live on his own out in a cottage deep in the woods, father from town than even your uncle’s mill. Supposedly, it was to protect everyone from the butcher’s rage. Now, you were starting to think the reverse might be true.

“That sounds awful,” you admitted, “I can’t imagine everyone in the village hating me.”

“You get used to it,” The Axe offered.

You frowned, “You shouldn’t have to ‘get used to it’. You should be able to have friends like anybody else.”

“Well, would you be friends with the man who kills for a living?” The Axe snorted.

You looked the man up and down carefully. The blood on his tunic had turned a maroon red. In the dying light of the sun, you could make out some flecks that had made their way onto his slider belt buckle. You flicked your eyes away from his crotch to look down at his thighs, each one thick as tree trunks and just as sturdy. Looking back up at his face, his cold eyes now seemed less dour, severe. Instead, you wondered if he was lost in his own frozen forest.

“I think I would be,” you offered.

The Axe’s eyes widened.

“You would be?” he parroted.

“I think if he let me,” you gave him a small smile.

The bells of the church rung out, indicating the late hour. You hissed as you scrambled to grab your wagon and pull it out from behind the stall. When you turned, The Axe was still standing, looking completely shell-shocked.

“Hey,” you caught his attention, “if you come back tomorrow at the start of the tenth watch*, I’ll get you your rations.”

“But won’t that be after sundown?” The Axe shifted his weight.

“The moon will be up by then,” you agreed, “but it won’t be too late. I can still make it out here and back before my Auntie and Uncle go to sleep. Do you wanna meet up then?”

The Axe looked down at his hands and shuffled awkwardly, “If you’re willing to do all that for me…”

“I’d love to,” you cut him off, “anyways, it’s getting late. I should probably get him before my Auntie gets worried.”

The Axe nodded and sent you off with a wave.

You walked down the path, following the glowing blue and white blossoms of moon flowers. A few patches of luminescent moss growing across the wood fences helped keep you on course when you finally made your way home.

When you did manage, your Auntie was waiting in the living room for you.

“You’re back!” she exclaimed and threw her arms around you before pulling away, “I’m so sorry! Was he mean to you? Did he try to hurt you?”

You screwed up your face, “Auntie, what’re you talking about? Who would’ve hurt me?”

“The Axe!” she exclaimed, “I forgot to pack his rations for you today! Didn’t he yell at you for them? I only noticed once you’d left! Surely he got upset, didn’t he? Was he too scary? I can tell your uncle he needs to find another baker if he tried to hurt you.”

“No, no,” you shook your head, “he was fine. I just told him I’d get them to him later.”

Your Auntie shrieked so loud you had to cover your ears.

“You told him you’d see him again?” she screeched, “what in the realms* were you thinking, girl!? Oh what have you done?”

“I told him I’d meet him at the tenth watch,” you explained, “out by the Criahlin’s stone.”

Your Auntie looked like she’d keel over and faint right then and there, “Oh by Halax’s name, what have you done?” she paused and shook her head, “no, you’re not going. I can’t have you seeing that dangerous man on your own, and especially not after dark!”

“What do you mean?” you scoffed, “I made a promise! You can’t have me breaking a promise, can you?”

“Oh I most certainly can!” your Auntie huffed, “it’s what’s best for you!”

“But Auntie he wasn’t that bad!” you tried to reason with her, “he’s nice! He’s just lonely!”

“Lonely?” your Auntie scoffed, “pah! That’s ridiculous. Now you listen and you listen close: you’re not to go and see him tomorrow. You stay right here with us. If I see you skeeving off, you’ll be in for a realm of trouble!”

You glared at her, but you were too tired to argue. You simply closed your eyes and nodded.

“That’s a good girl,” your Auntie sighed, “now, off to bed with you. We’ve got a busy day of baking tomorrow!”

You tromped up the creaking wooden stairs to go to bed.

You brushed out your hair in the window, thinking about how lonely The Axe must have been out in his cottage. You could see him now, sleeping alone in his thatching, shivering without so much as a fire to warm him. As you settled down into the straw, you vowed to make sure you’d change that.

Glossary

Wake - Day

Tracker - Type of lizard used for hunting (Mormonia's version of dogs)

Criah's turn - Every turn is a season named after a god. Criah's turn is named after the god of death, grief, hope and forgiveness. This turn is effectively winter

Next Wake - tomorrow

Hollinswake - tenth day of the week (there are ten days in a week), named after the goddess Hollin (diety of dreams and nightmares)

Halax - Creator goddess

Dandorwake - fifth day of the week, named after Dandor (diety of aspiration and responsibility)

Cycle - year

Half Watch - half an hour

Brak-Hah - God of the Sun, Light, Children and Joy

Hanndoal's Turn - Fall season, named after Hanndoal (diety of Trickery, Fun, Truth and Creativity)

Forruxik - God of Justice, Order, Wisdom and Intelligence

Mormonia - World

Tenth Watch - Days are split into 12 watches, each lasting 2 hours 24 minutes long

The Realms - There are an undetermined amount of realms of reality, with the three most pressing ones being the Looking Realm (our realm), the Feeling Realm (the realm where the otherworldly live) and the Highest Realm (the realm where Gods live)

Konig Dump

Alternate Universes

[floydsmuse]

A Night Out in the Wild

warnings: 18+ only, mdni, smut, p in v, teasing, explicit language.

pairing: Bob Floyd x f! reader (no y/n)

description: after being forced into going on a camping trip with Bob, you decide to get back at him. you get him all riled up & he ends up taking control… (wc 1k+)

-

a/n: hi :) so i finally finished up a new fic! this one took me a few days & im not super sure why😅 but it’s here! i just knew i had to write something spicy for Bob, so this is what i came up with! i had fun writing this one, so i hope you like it. as always, likes & comments are great! reblogs are appreciated too🥰💕 ty!

————————————————————————-

“Wo..would..you quit that?!” Bob yelled over to you in a whisper, completely stuttering over his words & his voice becoming strained.

You were busying yourself in this moment, rubbing your ass against his clothed half-hard cock. You suppressed a giggle into your pillow, but not letting up on your teasing. Hearing Bob be flustered & getting all hot & bothered was one of your favorite things. On the other hand, Bob was just doing his absolute best to keep quiet in this predicament, not wanting to risk waking up his other fellow naval aviators.

~

See, Bob was forced to go on this camping trip. Rooster had set it up & the rest of the dagger squad were all in attendance. Bob politely declined the offer at first, but Rooster didn’t let him off so easy & insisted that he tag along. He tried to reason that it would be good for Bob to get out of his comfort zone & have a bit of fun. It took a lot of convincing, but eventually Bob gave in, but only on one condition. He would only go if you joined him & while you were not completely thrilled with the idea, Bob’s pleading eyes & him practically begging you to come with was enough for you to agree to go. So, you packed up your things & headed out to a campsite a ways away from home.

While loving the idea of being with your boyfriend in a tent suited for one & in such close proximity to him, you didn’t love the idea of sleeping on the hard woodsy ground, on a particularly chilly fall night. You knew you had to get back at him somehow for dragging you along on this trip. You figured you would wait until everyone else was off to sleep, before you could give Bob a taste of his own medicine.

~

It was around 2 in the morning. You waited until all the guys were seemingly asleep in their tents, before making a move. Bob was cuddled up against your backside, with his head resting next to your shoulder & his arms wrapped securely around your waist. You bit your bottom lip & hesitated for a second, not sure if this was entirely a good idea. You knew Bob could get incredibly vocal when you two were intimate. He never shys away from letting out those cute little noises you adored so much, when you’re pleasuring him or vice versa. You knew he would be mortified if any of the squad heard him in such a predicament. But you figured, it’s now or never. You were gonna get him back good for dragging you here.

You push back further into him, your ass lining up with his crotch. You start slowly grinding against him, not wanting to over do it. Bob stirs, but doesn’t quite regain consciousness yet. You know if you make your movements too quick or too intense, Bob will surely be yelping out in mercy. So, you only go a tad bit faster & push back further into him just a little bit more. A sudden jerk from him is felt from behind you & a gasp escapes his throat.

“Wha..what are you doing? Ahh…st..stop.” Bob groggily spoke, letting out a groan that seems to get caught in his throat. You don’t stop though. You keep going & pretend like you didn’t hear him protest. you knew he liked it, as this wasn’t the first time you two had done this. It just wasn’t done in a place where you could potentially get caught.

“Ao..would..you quit that?!” Bob yelled over to you in a whisper, still stuttering over his words & his voice straining. You let out a light giggle & he let out a fuck under his breath. his hands were squeezing into your sides so hard, that you were sure his strong grip on them would leave bruises in their wake.

“You put this on yourself Bobby, for dragging me here in the first place.” You teasingly reply back & Bob continues to let out the littlest of whines. You start steadying your movements, pushing yourself away from his grasp & sitting up. You gaze down, peaking at his erection just waiting to break away from the clutches of his flannel pants. You couldn’t help but let out a gulp at the very sight. Bob didn’t say anything for a few seconds, his breathing heavy & his eyes blown out. He then looks up at you, his face reads of lust & god knows you were prepared for what was about to happen next.

Bob pounces at you. In a flash your mouths are molded together through sloppy wet kisses & he’s now straddling your waist. You run your hands up his back, but he’s quick to pin them above your head. His lips lead a trail of kisses along your jaw, then to your neck. You bite your lip to suppress a whimper. So desperately wanting to card your fingers through his hair, but Bob still has your hands trapped within his firm grasp.

He suddenly stops the assault on your neck & leans in to your ear whispering,

“I am going to ruin you sweets. I hope you’re ready for my cock.”

He nips at the shell of your ear & your breath gets caught in your throat. The idea of Bob ruining you makes your panties soaked & your thighs start rubbing together, seeking for a type of friction you’re so desperately yearning for.

Bob doesn’t hesitate. he tears your pjs off, leaving you absolutely bare in front of him. Bob was always known to be the shy & quiet WSO, but behind bedroom doors or in intimate settings at times, he becomes a wild animal.

His cock is finally set free from its restraints, awaiting to be fully submersed inside your gummy walls. You are growing impatient with him. Just wanting him to stretch you out to your full extent & have his cock buried deep inside of you, going to town on that spot that just feels so right.

Your wish is granted. Bob spreads you wide open & throws your legs over his shoulders, completely bending you in half. You instinctively wrap your arms around him. He gives you no warning & quickly pushes his plush tip into your seeping wet hole. you let out a gasp, a little too loudly for Bob’s liking. he slaps his hand over your mouth & shakes his head at you. he leans into your ear again. His voice hushed,

“You better keep quiet baby. you don’t wanna wake up the others. Don’t want em’ to know that i’m taking you right here inside this little tent of ours.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head at his words & at the idea of the guys overhearing you two. Bob’s hand remains over your mouth, as he slowly starts moving inside you. Just warming you up, allowing you to get used to his size & that familiar stretch of your walls. Bob keeps steadily thrusting & you let out a muffled whine into his hand, indicating that you were ready for him to pick up the pace.

Bob listens. he picks up on his movements, causing you to dig your heels further into his shoulder blades & your hands wrack into his hair, lightly tugging there. Bob lets out the slightest of groans & you can tell that he’s really trying his best not to scream out in pleasure.

That feeling of his plush tip, hitting that spot inside you just right makes you see stars. Bob continues that fast pace, not letting up. It feels like you two are the only people existing in the world in this moment. You’re both intimately connected & chasing your highs out in the wilderness. It truly was a beautiful sight.

Bob pulls his head from where it rested against your shoulder & immediately latches his mouth onto your right tit. He swirls his tongue over the now perked nipple & nips at your doughy flesh there too. Your eyes squeeze shut at the sudden action & you can’t help but bite down onto Bob’s hand. Bob jolts in reaction to your teeth sunken into his skin, but he still doesn’t let up on his thrusting or assault on your breasts.

He knew you had to be close now & he wasn’t far behind you. Bob removes his hand from your mouth, as quieted whimpers leave your throat & you mutter out a close. Bob grunts at your response, as you pull him closer into you & crashing your lips into his, to suppress a moan. You finally let go, your orgasm taking over your body. You are shuddering under him & Bob follows suit. His own orgasm overcoming him & your name is quietly projected from his lips. being repeated over & over.

Bob’s thrusts slowly start coming to a hault, but you aren’t letting him out of your grasp just yet. Your sweaty foreheads press together, as his cock softens inside of you. You stay like this for some time, continuing to be intimately connected. Both of your breathing starts to calm & all that can be heard are the subtle sounds of nature bouncing off of the trees in the forest.

Bob soon carefully slips out of you, but remains close. He pulls your limp body into his chest, legs intertwining & lays his head against your head. Bob leans in even closer to you, whispering in your ear,

“That’s what ya get for riling me up.”

You can practically feel his smirk against your cheek. You let out a giggle at his words & lean over to press a kiss to his lips. You two remained like this for the rest of the night. Bare & limbs tangled together under the remaining hours of a starry night sky.

-

-

[dokk-fukuro]

On Call. Pt.2

Characters: Edgar Allan Poe, Ogai Mori

Minors DNI

TW: SMUT, dirty talk, afab reader, imagine threesome w Poe and himself (whoah...)

۞₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪۞

For Edgar, this is a real test: not to succumb to your charms when you call him and say that you are only wearing his shirt. Poe has no luck in life with his fantasy - unfortunately, it works very well for him. Therefore, in the head, without unnecessary problems and tension, your image appears in the rays of sunlight.

You stand in front of a floor-to-ceiling window, sunlight filtering through a thin curtain illuminates your figure, and even the shirt that should hide your naked body does not cope with its task as it should. Of course, the fabric does not flaunt everything that you have, but even the outlined silhouette is enough for a young man to want to touch you.

“My angel, this is not fair!” Sitting in his chair, Edgar tries his best to keep control of himself and his emotions as you whisper to him how well his cock stretches you, how much you love his big hands squeeze your boobs.

Thinking soberly and sensibly is hardly possible, because the young man returns to your image over and over again in the light of the sun's rays. You are beautiful, too beautiful. Po really wants to be with you now, but he can’t do anything, ‘cause he has urgent business waiting for him. However, his hard cock demanding attention gives a pretty clear hint: Po won't leave his office until he does something about it.

“You know, I would love to lock you up in one of my novels that I would write for you. Just imagine: a house on the coast, an early, sunny morning, you in soft sheets, me pounding into you, and me using your mouth. You're so cute when you're on your knees in front of me, trying to take my cock all the way,” Edgar is pleased with himself, knowing how much it provokes you. He clenches his cock in his hand, thrusting into his fist as he hears your waning attempts to embarrass him more. The idea of being at the mercy of him alone is attractive. It sends goosebumps all over your skin as Poe continues, “Your walls are squeezing around me as I circle your clit. You want to scream with pleasure, right? Alas, my angel, will not work. You remember that in this novel you’ll be having your way with me? Your moans and screams are muffled with my cock in your mouth. But it's better if I make you mine once again in reality. What do you say?”

It takes a lot of effort to keep himself under control, but the young man almost copes, feeling his orgasm approaching. And your moans only spur.

“Come on, angel, cum for me,” Po exhales, hearing your moans and wet sounds. You reach your orgasm together. Edgar leans back wearily in his chair and smiles contentedly. “But you don’t think it’s all going to end like this, do you?”

۞₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪۞  

Mori left you early in the morning. As much as he would like to, he is the boss of the Port Mafia, and therefore he has to be in his office more often than in the apartment that you share together. Surprisingly, this man has photos of your beautiful body. He sometimes rewatches them, listening to Alice's resentment that it's not safe for him. “Suddenly someone will see. You're a dumbass, Rintaro! You should not allow even the slightest chance of compromising your personal life!” the man hears, but does not answer. No matter how you look at it, Alice is right. But the temptation to see you in a negligee is too great at times.

And it's not some kind of explicit pornography, no. Photos of your body have an incredible aesthetic that Ogai keeps to every time it comes to your photos.

You call him yourself, you discuss everyday topics, without even touching on the issue of intimacy. Suddenly you casually say “Oh, honey, have you seen my panties? I think I lost them while you undressed me." You didn't actually lose them. And he understands this when, straightening his tie, he settles comfortably in his chair. Your pair of panties is in his trouser pocket. How they got there Mori does not know, but guesses.

"Sweetie, we're not teenagers anymore to do this kind of thing, are we? Leave this entertainment for young people,” the man smiles, but it’s hard for him to deny that your antics aroused excitement in him, as if he were in his early twenties again. In response to this, you retort by saying that it is entertainment for young people to keep photographs of the naked body of their beloved. And your slightly shaky voice attracts attention. "You're not wasting any time, are you? Then let me remind you that I’l punish you for it. My hands will mark your skin, digging into it with my fingers while your wrists are chained to the bed. Why do you think I let you touch yourself?”

His firm voice only turns you on more when Mori reminds you again what a naughty girl you are to decide to touch yourself while he's not around. Yes, you know the rules, but you can't help yourself. You love this man way too much in every way.

“But, if you don’t want to be punished, you need to do something for me,” Mori says insinuatingly, and you already listen eagerly, wanting to do anything for this man. “Imagine that it is my hand touching you now. Imagine the warmth of my body next to you. Be my obedient girl and cum for me when I tell you to.”

Hearing you moan and not being able to touch you is like torture. However, Ogai is a strong person who can keep his desires under control, unlike you, who loves his touch to the point of trembling fingers.

You spread your wetness over your pussy, stroke it with your fingers, rub your clit. The second hand is squeezing your boob, playing with the nipple. As you slide your fingers inside, you let out a moan of disappointment. It's not Mori's fingers that fill you up so well, but your walls tighten as the man whispers to you:

“Come on, sweetie. You’re my good girl. You take my cock so well inside you. You can't imagine how nice it is inside you, how wet and warm” in response to your pleas to let you cum, Mori clicks his tongue. “No, not yet. You promised to be a good girl, remember? That's right, and... now I have to gonow, wait for the evening and don't try to touch yourself. I’ll find out it.”

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV Write Entry #22: Kith and Kin

Prompt: rencounter (free write) || Master Post || On AO3 (coming in October)

A/N: Spoilers through Patch 6.5: Growing Light, and very very very minor ones for Dawntrail.

---

Radz-at-Han was a truly beautiful sight from the air. Built atop a large, lonely plateau rising above the Thavnairian jungle, the city covered its entire surface in a myriad of brightly painted buildings, open plazas decorated with mosaics, and lush gardens on multiple rooftops. And even from this distance, there was no mistaking the crowds that bustled throughout the city and crossed the great bridge connecting Radz-at-Han to the rest of Thavnair.

Excitement bubbled up in Ehll Tou’s throat and she trilled an adventuring song as she began to glide downward in a smooth spiral.

The airship landing was easy to spot, a series of long platforms jutting out from the plateau close to the main gate. As she drew closer, Ehll Tou spotted a figure waving from the end of the westernmost dock: large and broadly built, grey skin, large ears, a sinuous trunk, and wearing a beautiful sari of pink and purple. Ah, that must be Nidhana! Ehll Tou obligingly adjusted her course.

The arkasadora took some steps backward as Ehll Tou neared, her ears held up perked and alert. Almost to the edge now, Ehll Tou threw herself into a backwards loop—it had taken quite a bit of practice to relearn how to do that in her adult body—both as display and to slow her momentum. Coming back upright, she flared her wings as a finally braking maneuver, and landed delicately on one foot, and then the other.

[Hello!] she sang happily. [Are you Nidhana?]

“I am indeed!” Nidhana said, striding forward with surprising grace for a being so tall. She held out her hand, and Ehll Tou reached forward to shake eagerly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ehll Tou! Welcome to Radz-at-Han.”

[A pleasure to meet you as well!]Ehll Tou said. [I’ve heard so much about you and your city! Thank you so much for allowing me to attend your introductory alchemy class.]

“Oh, it is a delight to accept a student so diligent and eager to learn,” Nidhana said, beginning to walk down the pier. “I am only sorry I cannot introduce you to Master Vrtra and Mistress Azdaja, but diplomatic business has taken them to Tural and I’m not certain when they will return.”

Ehll Tou kept easy pace beside her and reached into her bag, retrieving her hat and carefully pinning it back to its rightful, jaunty place atop her left horn. [That’s all right,]she said. [There will be plenty of time to properly meet my kin! I am not in any rush.]

“Ah, the benefits of a draconic lifespan,” Nidhana sighed wistfully. “The things I could learn over such time!”

The two chatted happily as they traveled through Radz-at-Han’s streets towards the High Crucible, with Nidhana pointing out many shops and restaurants and landmarks and Ehll Tou dutifully committing them to memory as she built her mental map of the city. She drew curious looks from many Hannish citizens, though dragons had become a somewhat more common sight since Vrtra began openly ruling as satrap. The adventurers were a familiar sight, and some she even knew from Ishgard! With those she exchanged hellos and promises to meet for a snack and cup of tea.

“Such a wonderful world we now live in,” Nidhana said, her trunk curled and ears gently flapping in the manner Ehll Tou was quickly learning meant happiness. “As terrible as the Final Days were, its aftermath has brought new life to the city and Thavnair as a whole. New foods, new ideas, new friends!”

[It is wondrous to see,] Ehll Tou trilled and tapped her claws together with excitement. [I never thought to see the end of the Dragonsong War, but now I may safely travel the lands of man and learn new skills and meet new peoples, and compose songs to share it all with my kin and encourage them to travel and learn, too!]

Nidhana trumpeted a laugh. “Oh, Sisters have mercy on me, I know now why Synnove adores you so much! It is going to be an honor to teach you, truly!”

Ehll Tou chuffed, chest puffing with pride.

--

Five days later, Ehll Tou was browsing one of the markets, humming happily to herself as she examined a stall of clockwork devices. Her first days of classes had gone well and she had settled into the nest that the Alchemists’ College had prepared for her in the student housing close to the High Crucible. She was making new friends, too, and while some of it had no doubt been engendered by the allure of a draconic classmate, once her classmates realized how well-read she was, they had quickly settled into a mix of gossip and idea sharing. Such fun!

She did miss Hautdilong and Arvide, but they had encouraged her to take this opportunity, and she would be back home within the next few moons once the class was concluded. And in the meantime, she would write letters to them, eagerly await their own, and acquire some souvenirs to bring home with her!

Today was a free day and while she would later meet with her classmates to review their notes and prepare for their first laboratory session, this morning was the perfect time to shop.

Ehll Tou had already purchased some silk for a potential sewing project she had in mind, thread for embroidery in colors that made her purr, and a number of interesting snacks she could share at the study session. The clockwork had caught her eye, used as she was to Ul’dahn styles, and her perusal right now was for an item or two she might carefully disassemble to compare its construction to a Goldsmiths’ Guild mammet she was building. A watch was always a good starting point…

A flash of moving scarlet caught her eye, and Ehll Tou raised her head to spot a dragonet further down the boulevard. She blinked curiously; none of her cousins had said they would be visiting Radz-at-Han, but the dragonet didn’t quite look like any of her cousins, either. Perhaps this was a Meracydian dragonet, one that Great Mother Tiamat felt was well enough to travel beyond the safety of her restored brood? Oh, what fun, she hadn’t met any of her Meracydian kin yet!

Ehll Tou made her selections, gently haggling with the shopkeep, and shook hands once they were both content with their deal. She exchanged gil for the watches, placed her purchases within her satchel, and trotted off down the street.

As Ehll Tou drew closer, she noted that the dragonet was certainly no Dravanian but was quite pretty: her wings had feathers, and a fluffy ruff of white feathers crowned her head behind her horns! She whistled a hello, and the dragonet turned—

—this was not a dragonet.

Ehll Tou scrambled to a stop.

{Oh, look at you!} The great wyrm in a dragonet’s body swooped closer. {What a beautiful dragon you have grown into, scion of Ratatoskr!}

Her voice purred and rolled around the careful enunciations of Dragonspeak in both Ehll Tou’s ears and mind. The sound was warm and multi-toned, drums and dulcimers and heavy woodwinds, a deep contralto of age and experience and affection. In it was echoed the symphonic rumble of Kinfather Midgardsormr and the memory of the green skies of the Dragon Star; the hatching songs of new generations and warsongs of wyrms flying to protect their children; the hollow loneliness of a red moon and the dream of home.

Ehll Tou dropped into a bow, neck low and wings spread, and frantically pawed through her mental library of etiquette. Azdaja the Lost had never mothered a brood, so ‘Great Mother’ would not be the proper courtesy title, but perhaps a more mortal term would work, she could contract the layers of generations into one—

[It is my honor, Great Aunt Azdaja,] Ehll Tou trilled in Dragonspeak, though the term for ‘aunt’ translated rather awkwardly.

{Such wonderful manners, I am well met,} Azdaja said, squinting her eyes closed in pleasure. {Further formality is not necessary, little niece.}

Ehll Tou popped up from her bow, fairly vibrating with excitement. [Thank you, Great Aunt! I am Ehll Tou.]

{Yes, yes, Ehll Tou of Dravania! First of a new generation of dragons born to peace.} Azdaja’s voice had warmed even further. {My brother and I just returned to Radz-at-Han last night. How fortuitous that I met you this morning; Vrtra planned to send you an invitation to dinner so that we might properly meet and exchange songs. Would you be able to attend tonight?}

[Oh, yes, I would! Today and tomorrow are my rest days,] Ehll Tou said, fighting the urge to fairly dance in place. Oh goodness, to share family songs with two of the great wyrms! So much to learn! So much to share! She was going to be the utter envy of Zenith and Anyx Trine!

Azdaja’s laugh was a rippling sound of bells and flutes. {Might I accompany you?} she said. {I am still learning much about Radz-at-Han myself, and such excursions are always more joyous with company.}

[It would be my pleasure!] Ehll Tou couldn’t stop her excited hop as Azdaja came to hover next to her, both of their attentions caught by a samosa stall opening as the lunch hour began.

This, Ehll Tou knew, was going to be one of the best days she ever had.

[rayssion]

I'm torn because in a sense I'm tired of reading pjo, don't get me wrong like it's about time these kids had some rest, found some peace and lived their lives without the constant danger, I'm feeling tired for them feeling tense all the time, only waiting for worst to happen and it keeps on happening. I want it to stop, I want all of this to stop, these demigods to live, to just lead a normal life.

But on the other hand I'm not ready to leave them yet, I want Rick to write more so I can read more, so I can know more about them, so I can live with them. I want more books and I want more series.

At this point honestly, if Rick just wrote a whole series of the demigods just living their lives normally without anything ever happening to them, a boring life were you just follow a routine, I will fucking dig it up.

Why can't we just read about them without them being in constant danger?? Don't you guys feel bad for Percy? Boy spent years going on quests and doing missions, he deserves a real rest.

So this dilemma lead me to the idea of next generation/s, I'd like to read about something in the future of the same timeline/universe setup of pjo hoo toa, it could be their kids or their grandchildren, just imagine how lovely would it be?

It's like watching the legend of Korra after watching the last airbender lol, you'll see Katara and hear all of them talking about Aang and all of that, and you'll feel the nostalgia because you've been their, you lived with them.

Imagine percabeth's great grandchildren going to camps to train and learn and they hear all these stories about their ancestors and how they saved the world, imagine them accidentally stumbling across solangelo's great grandchildren and they befriend each other without knowing that their families go way back.

And then these kids will have their own adventures (they'll suffer now that they're our new squad lol) and how fun it'll be for us as readers if let's say, one time they go on a quest to retrieve something we're familiar with, like Riptide maybe? Idk.

And a huge bonus!! That they'll at some point seek the huntres and I know they'll spend the long nights hearing stories about the great demigods from Thalia and Reyna. They'll tell them every big and small story, even the time Percy arranged with Hermes for his and Annabeth's anniversary in exchange for looking for his staff. They'll tell them about the cocoa puffs and how Nico always slept with them, and I just know one of them will be determined to descend to the underworld to meet them (because Nico is now dead and in the underworld with Hades and his cocoa puffs and possibly Will).

And at some point they'll have to cross Boston for some reason and oh my god they'll meet Magnus and Alex and they'll stay at the Chase house for a while also hearing some stories from Magnus and shopping from Blitzen.

Rick this's my petition to have mercy on Percy and our lovely demigods and let them live in peace but please don't quit writing, I breath your books more than oxygen at this point<3

[artist-issues]

It isn’t all the filmmaker’s fault that all we’re getting is second-rate remakes and sequels to franchises that should’ve been left alone a long time ago.

We don’t have a clear idea of why we like the things we like. So we don’t clearly communicate why we like the things we like. So it’s no wonder Hollywood keeps getting your favorite movies and their characters wrong. The fans don’t even know why they like what they like.

When Genie is set free in the original Aladdin, that moment was impactful, and you remembered it all through childhood. When Luke tosses the lightsaber away and says “I am a Jedi, like my father before me,” it was impactful, and you remembered it.

But did you stop and analyze why? What made those moments, and those stories, impactful?

Did you say, “Genie wished to be free for the whole movie, and he was always trying to tell Aladdin about how freedom only comes from trusting, and he was learning to trust Al himself, and Aladdin finally DID trust Jasmine to still want him even if he wasn’t rich, so he set Genie free in the most satisfying way!”

Did you say, “Luke spent all previous movies rushing into fights, and trying to control everything to save the ones he loves, but when he finally has his enemy at his mercy and is at the height of his power, he realizes that being a Jedi isn’t rushing and fighting and controlling; it’s having faith in the good and throwing your opportunity for control away.”

Did you think through and appreciate that stuff? The values? The point of the whole story, and how the characters act as pillars holding that point up? The good and the bad things that they embody?

No. Not out loud. Because we don’t think critically anymore. We just go “what’s this? Entertain me. Oooh, I felt something! Good! Next!”

The why behind what you like is the only value in liking anything.

But we don’t look objectively at the “why.” We don’t dwell on the “why.” If we dwell on anything, it’s to superimpose ourselves or whatever we like onto the characters.

You think Barbie was hyping feminism because you like feminism, and because you felt things during Barbie. You write fanfiction about Eddie Munson that has nothing to do with what Eddie Munson actually is as a character—because you like love stories, and you felt some compelling emotions when you saw Eddie Munson onscreen, so you’ve decided that those things should go together. You take something that made you feel emotions while you watched the canon material, then you don’t bother to process those emotions or what made the canon material compelling. You just slap whatever you already think you like onto something that made you feel, whether it had anything to do with what you like or not.

You eat the apple and benefit from it without knowing, at all, what nutrients are inside. Then when someone offers you crap and tells you it’s apple-flavored, you wonder why you’re not feeling the same way afterward.

Then you misdiagnose. You say “no, I don’t wonder why I’m not feeling the same—it’s because the CGI in live-action remakes suck!” Okay, great, so they’ll get better CGI. And it’ll still suck. Because that was never the problem, just like the reasons you liked the movie were never the reasons it actually impacted you in the first place.

Figure out. WHY. You like what you like. Figure out if it’s because the stories said what their creators objectively intended for them to say—or if you like the story in spite of that, not because of that.

Then open your mouth about it. It is worth it.

[icamefromthepinterestscreenshots]

CW: child whumper (sidekick), mentions of previous abuse. (If you find any more CWs I’ve missed, please tell me!)

Villain was feeling great. Todays plan had gone perfectly and now hero’s own sidekick was tied to a chair in front of them. Poor sidekick probably had no idea where they were, Villain smirked.

‘I bet your praying hero is going to show up and save you. I assure you they won’t. They don’t even know where my lair is; besides, do you really think they’ll go through all the effort just to save their stupid little sidekick who got themselves kidnapped?’

Sidekick was shaking. Terrified. Now completely at the villains mercy, their identity was going to be revealed, they just knew it. And then it wouldn’t just be sidekick that will die, but their loved ones too. Hero has told sidekick about villain. Sidekick knew villain was a ruthless killer. Their fear mixed with their guilt for having endangering not only themselves but their friends too. Hero would be so disappointed in sidekick. Villain was right, hero would never bother to save them. It was their own fault that they had messed up and gotten themselves kidnapped.

Villain crouched down and reached out to sidekicks face-

‘Let’s see who’s under this disguise- which I must say, is rather pathetic. Could you not have come up with a better costume for yourself?’, villain joked.

-Sidekick flinched away, but villain swiftly grabbed sidekicks mask and roughly pulled it off their face.

‘I bet you’re-‘,

The villains grin dropped along with their stomach. This was not what they were expecting. Rage shook through villain. Sidekicks face showed nothing but absolute fear.

‘A child. You’re just a child’

Villains face softened as they tried to hide their anger from the kid that sat before them. Hero had sent a child to fight them. A child. How could hero do this? And who was responsible for sidekicks black eye? Villain knew it wasn’t them. Was it hero? When villain got their hands on them-

But that could be dealt with later. Villain needed to focus on the terrified face in front of them.

‘I’m not a child. I’m 15’

‘Who told you that was old? Was it hero? You can’t even drink yet, darling. You’re a child.

And to be clear, I am not going to hurt you. I know hero’s probably told you horrible lies about me, but I can assure you, they’re not true… at least most of them aren’t true. But I would never intentionally hurt a child’

Sidekick was shocked by the softness of villains voice, which was completely different from the roughness it had been filled with 2 seconds ago. It was just an act. It had to be. Sure, hero could be harsh to sidekick, but sidekick deserved it right? Hero was just training sidekick.

‘Are you hungry? Injured? Let me patch you up’

Villain gently brushed sidekicks hair out their face to get a better look at the purple bruises forming on their forehead. Sidekick flinched away from the hand, letting out a small whimper.

That was it. Villain vowed they would destroy hero next time they saw them. But first, they have got to help the poor kid.

————————————————————————————————

This was my first time writing something like this, so any feedback and help would be appreciated. In fact, it think this is the first time I’ve written a story outside an English lesson (which I haven’t done as a subject since GCSE’s) since I wrote a short Harry Potter headcanon when I was 12 lol. I still remember that headcanon tho, and I’m pretty sure it might still be on tumblr somewhere 🫡

[eustasskidagenda]

hello im so excited that your ask box is open and youre taking requests! i dont request things often, so this might be a but of a weird concept, and i apologize if its too detailed. however the idea literally wont leave me alone. orz;;

maybe eustass kid has a crush on a somewhat reserved reader whose slow to open up and he hasnt quite realized thats what hes feeling until they stop on an island and meet readers childhood friend. they show a whole new side of themself with said friend by laughing openly, making stupid jokes, being much more physically affectionate. basically reader acts close with an old friend and kid gets jealous about it.

i dont mind if you do a oneshot, drabble, or headcanon, im just curious about your thoughts on this :3 thank you so much and i hope you have a great day!

Hello dear anon! Sure, I'm always happy to write for my pookie. It was fun to write, and it makes me smile a bit because Kid is such a mess, I love this angry tulip. Hope it will match your expectations. ☆

☆Kid with a s/o slow to open up

CW : g/n reader, a bit of cursing but fluff overall

WC : 700

Kid has always been loud. Whenever he's angry, he needs to shoot at someone. What can he say? His heart is filled with emotions, boiling and exploding like a thousand sparks. That's why you're a mystery. Always calm. Not letting others know what's on your mind. What makes you so quiet? He can't tell. 

Just like the moon and the sun, you are polar opposites. And yet, as the sun always chases the moon, he's always looking after you. And he's everything, but not discreet. Asking loudly for almost all of his crew what they think about you and why you are so reserved. 

Sure, he's used to introverted folks. Killer is one of them. But here's the difference: he can second-guess every word, thought, and breath of his best friend. He could probably achieve all of his sentences. And even through the mask, Kid could also guess the exact expression on Killer's face. 

Killer, who is likely aware that Kid has a small crush on you.

Kid is genuinely frustrated. Loudly frustrated, obviously. He needs to feel in control of everything and hates when he doesn’t have a full-understanding. Usually, he fails to notice reserved people because he's taking all the attention. But there's something about you: your slight smiles, the flash in your eyes, the way you're always listening to others but never talk about yourself. He can't tell why, but it keeps his mind alert. 

Perhaps you pose a bit of a challenge. Kid would never give two flying fucks about you if you were easy to see through. He's always looking after you because you're still a mystery. Sure, at the beginning, it was just to try to figure out who you really are. But now, it turned into something bigger. He hasn't noticed it yet, that’s all. Kid sucks with feelings. Feelings are actually something he hates because they make him feel weak. It puts his loved one in danger. Showing your weaknesses to enemies is a foolish move, Kid knows that perfectly.

However, everything is about to change. He decided to stop on that island for the day. For the first time, you asked to avoid robbery or harming anyone around. 

"Ugh, we're pirates, y/n" Kid doesn't want to look like a nice guy. He's a tough, rude pirate. He has a reputation to uphold. For him, the only good way to open a path is by violent means. Kindness? For what? If he's still alive today, it's because he toughened up and decided to never show mercy to anyone. 

"Fine, fine, I won't kill those people." Heavy sighs. But he wants to understand. He needs to understand. And finally, he's about to understand. 

Because suddenly, you're smiling heartily and running towards those scumbag strangers. What. The. Fuck. It's like seeing the sun after an eternity of blizzards and grey clouds. You're a bright light, a true sunshine. A burst of joy. You're joking, laughing, talking, and talking a lot. You never said more than two sentences in front of him, and now you're chatting endlessly with those strangers and hugging all of them. 

He's pissed off. Are those random people with terrible sense of style and ugly make-up better than him? The great Eustass "Captain" Kid? No way. 

"Guys, here's my captain, Kid. Kid, here are my childhood best friends."

Kid's face is a mess of angry scowls and boiling with frustration when they say hello. Why aren't you smiling as warmly when you're with him? Why is his heart pounding so hard, almost painfully in his chest? And damn, is it the cold or are his cheeks completely red? 

Poor Kid is both flushed and flustered. His first reflex is always exploding when he feels something. "Do you have a problem with me?" Barking through gritted teeth. 

He's ruining the happy-shitty mood and he doesn't care. 

So now, try to explain that you don't have a problem with him. Good luck, he's very stubborn. But once he's more or less calmed (because he's still pissed off), he still can't understand why his heart is racing at the sight of your soft, warm smile.

He wants to see that side of you more often. He wants to be part of those privileged people allowed to know the real you.

Yes, maybe he has a crush on you.