#a wall of climbing ivy

[climbingivy97]

Saltburn fanart of Felix and Oliver

Original fanart made by me because I cannot get this film out of my brain 😅

Would people want me to sell prints of this or stickers? (Or both)

[vulcanette]

‼️ Ivy’s groovin’ ‼️

🎥: via discord user @ mr.hedgehog7407

[u5an5]

Of things obtained: Once Upon a Witchlight Ep. 39 | Too Many Cooks

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.

! Fair warning, this post contains SPOILERS. If you don't want to be spoiled, STOP READING !

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Gricko

Languages: Common, Goblin, Gigant, Druidic, Sylvan?

Class: Druid, Circle of Primal Spirits (Reflavoured Circle of Stars with focus on Monstrosities instead constellations)

Title/s: Splop, the Green Baron (by King Gullop XIX; ep.27); One of creators of the Frogna Croaka (ep.36)

Abilities: -16hp/??hp-6+2; -1 Wild shape; -4 lvl1 spell slot; -3 lvl2 spell slot(MAX); 1 cantrip used; -1 Star Form (Short Rest)

In possession from beginning:

Primal totems (Gorilla, Rook, Toad; ep.1)

Alarm whistle (ep.1)

Ocarina (ep.2)

Glue dropper bottle (ep.3)

Eyedrops bottle (ep.3)

Peanut butter jar (ep.10)

banañas (ep.12)

Can of WD-40 (ep.19)

Wooden carved pocket watch (ep.20)

Cool hat (ep.26)

Items acquired:

Bag of 603 gold pieces (couldn't find it; ep.1)

Cloak of Displacement (ep.1)

Magic Face Paint (Disguise Self 1h; ep.6)

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (gained due Fey Pact) 2/8 (ep.7)

Witchlight wine (ep.7)

Glove puppet wizard (Illusion 3/3; ep.8)

Wooden wand (Prestidigitation 8/8; ep.8)

Blue ribbon "I dropped a beat on the Carnival street" (ep.8)

5x fridge magnets (ep.12)

Rocky Talkie (ep.14)

Mouse Harness (ep.15)

Bag of leeches full of Witchlight (ep.25)

Knights standard ribbon (ep.32)

Red chess piece from the King (ep.34)

Bullyjugs magazine teared in half (ep.34)

Crowbar from Kremy/Briggsy (ep.35)

Set of x3 dice from Kremy (ep.36)

List of quests to complete by Torbek (ep.37)

Jar with a living frog (ep.37)

Butchers knife from Bloody Toes

It's the most rusted one she had, which means she used it the most often. From what she said that means they became quite fast friends. It might've been as well a starting point of some weird courting rituals of redcaps, considering the fact that she went from not considering anyone her friend to her stating she might've found her Mr. Toes in few minutes after gifting it to him

A small wooden box (left it in the icebox in the kitchen)

From the inside of it a faint heartbeat is audible. It contains the frozen heart of Coral Rayheart

Trinkets:

Golden Bell (ep.20)

19 - Vitrified eye of a displacer beast (ep.23)

36 - Rock that floats and is small enough to hide in your closed fist (ep.23)

55 - Mask that helps you remember your dreams if you wear it while you sleep (ep.23)

65 - Tiny wooden lute with cat hairs for strings (ep.23)

Things lost:

Joy from receiving best gift he was given (his first bone harp from Uncle Glorbo) (ep.17)

His greatest joke (ep.29)

Clothes:

Pacts/contracts:

No ticket - after giving away his ticket to Gideon, due to The Rule of Reciprocity, his most prized possession (Hootsie) was taken away from him by Sowpig (ep.5)

Fear: Groblin (2D beings in general; ep.12)

Status: Alive, with the Krew

Hootsie

Class: Familiar; she's considered Gricko's daughter

Abilities:

Trinkets:

90 - Set of false wooden teeth (ep.23)

Clothes:

Ugly yuletide sweater (ep.29)

Status: Alive, with the Krew

Snail Number 2 [NPC] (ep.35)

Class: Mount

Clothes:

Mouse Harness

Status: Currently waiting for the party next to the Watchtower

.

Gideon

Languages: Common, Primodial, Sylvan?

Class: Fighter, Chain Brawler (Reflavoured Rune Knight)

Title/s: Mundlemud, Earl of Swampgunk (by King Gullop XIX; ep.27); One of creators of the Frogna Croaka (ep.36)

Abilities: 14hp/??hp; -Action Surge; (Short Rest)

In possession from beginning:

Engineered manacles (ep.5)

Cigar (ep.10)

Really tiny notebook (ep.11)

Really tiny spectacle (ep.11)

Flask (ep.22)

Items acquired:

3 letters from Mr. Roslov (ep.1; they did NOT read it)

x5 Magical Invisibility Cupcakes (ep.3)

162 gold pieces (ep.7)

Wooden wand (Prestidigitation 8/8; ep.6)

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (gained due Fey Pact) 3/8 (ep.7)

Cuddly toy spider (Spider Climb ep.7)

Letter from Mrs Witch & Light (ep.8)

x2 Cuddly toy spider (Spider Climb; ep.8)

Pixie dust (ep.8)

Wooden wand (Prestidigitation 8/8; ep.6)

Blue ribbon (ep.8)

"Engineering for Fae Dummies 101" in sylvan [book] (ep.19)

Remains of Agdon Longscarf's ear (ep.22)

A letter from Bavlorna (ep.32)

Knights standard ribbon (ep.32)

Red chess piece from the King (ep.34)

Set of x3 dice from Kremy (ep.36)

Handkerchief from Kremy

banaña from Gricko

Trinkets:

17 - Sheet of music that goblins find upsetting when they hear it played or sung (ep.23)

76 - Collection of baby teeth in a tiny wooden box (ep.23)

40 - Wax candle that roars and crackles like a bonfire while lit (ep.23)

45 - Bar of soap that smells like something memorable from your childhood (ep.23)

3 - Silver hand mirror with a nymph-shaped handle (ep.23)

28 - Tiny clockwork dragonfly that slowly beats its wings (but can't fly) when wound up (Gideon has seen schematics for this exact dragonfly at the end of his book; ep.23)

73 - Nunchaku sized for a pixie or sprite (ep.23)

Things lost:

Joy from receiving best gift he was given (A silver comb from Kremy; ep.17)

His rhythm in his step (ep.29)

Clothes:

An iron pot with a lid weighing about 30 pounds, strapped to his back with a chain; now with two Lornlings inside that says they'll tell them how to access the mirror

Pacts/contracts:

Marriage - He has to get married to Taxie after asking her to marry him in exchange for a ticket for Frost. Additionally, Frost, as show of gratefulness, will do at least one nice thing for him each day and fulfill one bigger favour once every two weeks. (ep.14) Due to him and all betrothed signing Kremy's contract he became a sole husband to all three Bixie, Zaxie and Taxie and due some additional fine print he had to marry Kremy too (ep.15) (In next 7 days, if he's 30 feet or less from people he married he gets one +2AC for each of them)

Presumably its effect should end somewhere this day but considering how weird the time is in Feywild and that they had it outside of it I'll just leave it here with this note (ep.37)

Clown kill manslaughter count:

Chuckles the Clown - after being punched in body by Gideon, which broke every rib he had, laughed himself to death (supposedly he was already dead by this time due crippling alcoholism; before the campaign)

Klutzy the Clown - got hit by Gideon throwing Impossibal at incredible speeds directly into his face. The actual supposed cause of death was deadly allergy to unspecified ingredient/s in this processed not-meat sludge (ep.6)

Bumbo the Clown - Tripped and fallen directly onto Gideon's sword hand puppet, completely running him through. Was allergic to felt, he hit the ground and he died. (ep.9)

Thaco the Clown - Was deadly allergic to peanuts and ate an unlabeled peanut butter pie that Gideon chose for his wedding. It took over 1 hour for anyone to notice (ep.15)

Status: Alive, with the Krew

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Kremy

Languages: Common, Draconic, Bullywug, Sylvan?

Class: Warlock, Death Loa Patron (Reflavoured Undead patron)

Title/s: Augluth, Pondflower Knight (by King Gullop XIX; ep.27); Electrum Chef Winner (ep.32); One of creators of the Frogna Croaka (ep.36)

Abilities: 22hp/??hp; -1 lvl1 spell slot; -1 lvl2 spell slot; -1x Hungry Jaws;

Outside of battle Suggestion spell functions for him as a cantrip

In possession from beginning:

Tophat (stollen by a darkmantle-like shadow creature)

Skull Cane

2 gold pieces (ep.1)

at least 1 handkerchief (ep.3)

Compact mirror (ep.4)

Frying pan (ep.4)

Knife (ep.4)

Bacon grease (ep.8)

Cigarettes (ep.10)

Cigarette holder from Gideon (ep.17)

Pocket watch (ep.20)

Canteen (ep.20)

Set of x3 dice (ep.36)

Items acquired:

Satchel with Carnival map and Three Rules of Feywild (ep.2)

Stuffed Almiraj plushie from Gideon (Minor Illusion 3/day)

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (gained due Fey Pact) 2/8

45 gold pieces

A replica unicorn horn filled with candy (ep.7)

A replica unicorn horn filled with candy (ep.8)

Bright orange ribbon "consolation prize" from Torbek (ep.8)

Pinecone Pug plushie x2? (ep.12)

Pinecone Pug backpack (ep.12)

Gricko's teeth (ep.12)

Frost's fingernails (ep.12)

x3 Toffie (ep.13)

Fist sized cup made from snail shell (ep.14)

Great Fiddle (ep.15)

Satchel of human bones (ep.18)

Duke Ickrind's message (ep.25)

Real unicorn horn (ep.29)

Forlarrens Remorse [dagger] from Gideon (ep.31)

Vial with 1 drop of Witchlight from Torbek diluted with moonshine, half used up (ep.31)

Chefs outfit of the Soggy Court (ep.31)

Electrum Chef Winner medal (ep.32)

Knights standard ribbon (ep.32)

Red chess piece from the King (ep.34)

2x Humanoid pincushions (ep.37)

set of Basilisk eyes (ep.37)

Trinkets:

34 - Fake Three-Dragon Ante card depicting a faerie dragon (he put it on his tophat beside his other two cards) (ep.23)

94 - Tasseled wine charm shaped like a sprite (ep.23)

49 - Piece of parchment bearing a child's drawing of an oni (ep.23)

100-sided die the size of a plum, cut from coal (ep.23)

1 - Cookie cutter shaped like a unicorn (ep.23)

Things lost:

Joy from receiving best gift he was given (cigarette holder from Gideon; ep.17)

Color of his eyes (ep.29)

Clothes:

Magical Belt (ep.31) 21/d

Beezleberries he gave to Bloody Toes

Chef's apron

Pacts/contracts:

Due possessing unspecified knowledge he didn't pay for when he "abandoned his station" has to deliver 100,000 gold pieces to Mr. Garou by the end of the month as recompensation. If he's no longer able to do so by dying, the rest of the Krew is obligated to pay it (ep.1)

Marriage -Due making his contract with his betrothed he was able to transfer it onto Gideon and also marry him himself. (ep.15) (In next 7 days, if he's 30 feet or less from people he married he gets one +2AC for each of them)

Fear: Remy Garou and his debt to him (ep.12)

Status: Alive, with the Krew

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Frost

Languages: Common, Celestial, Elvish, Sylvan?

Class: Sorcerer, Mystic Mind Origin (Reflafoured Aberrant Mind)

Title/s: Grumple, Count of Bogbottom (by King Gullop XIX; ep.27); One of creators of the Frogna Croaka (ep.36)

Abilities: -1 1lvl spell slot; -1 ?lvl spell slot; -1 2lvl spell slot; -2 sorcery points

Due to a close bond between the Krew, he can communicate with the rest of the party at will unlimited number of times (somewhere before 16th ep)

In possession from beginning:

Backpack (ep.2)

Glue (totally not related to horses; ep.3)

Tambourine (ep.3)

Water skin (ep.3) full of Oasis Water (ep.20)

Peanut butter jar (ep.10)

Peanut M&M's (ep.11)

Ball of yarn (ep.11)

Buttons (ep.13)

Crowbar (ep.18)

Towel (ep.20)

Water skin full of Oasis Water (ep.20)

x5 vials full of Oasis Water (ep.20)

10ft pole (ep.21)

Ball of thread and a needle (ep.22)

Sticks of incense (ep.33)

Items acquired:

Letter to Zybilna by Madrik Roslov (ep.1)

Bag of Beans (ep.1) -7/?

1 gold piece

Morning Frost license plate (ep.12)

Pack of pixie dust (ep.12)

Sky blue T-shirt three sizes too small with "Bird Chad" on it (ep.12)

1 ticket to Witchlight Carnival (gained due Pixie Pact) 0/8 (ep.14)

Teapot & pack of Scatterleaf tea (ep.14)

Killmoulis Spectacles (ep.15)

Wand of the Pact Breaker 3/3 (ep.15)

1 banaña (ep.16)

A Letter to Duke Ickrind (ep.25)

15 - Spell scroll of an 8 (ep.29)

Disspelling dust 3/3 (ep.29)

Knights standard ribbon (ep.32)

Red chesspiece from the King (ep.34)

A bottle of wine from King of Hearts (ep.36)

Set of x3 dice from Kremy (ep.36)

Wooden Eyeball (ep.37)

Parchment with a word Spittlespew (ep.37)

Bobbing Lily Pad [vehicle] (ep.38)

Trinkets:

64 - Piano key carved from a satyr's horn (ep.19)

6 - Tiny pair of sharp, iron scissors (ep.19)

25 - Silver fork with the outer tines bent sideways (ep.23)

9 - Chess piece shaped like a dancing satyr wearing a bishop's hat and clutching a gnarled staff (ep.23)

63 - Black executioner's hood sized for a pixie or sprite (ep.23)

74 - Copper coin with a smiling satyr's face on one side and a satyr's skull on the other (ep.23)

54 - candle that can never be lit (ep.28)

66 - A single caltrop made from bone (ep.35)

Things lost:

Joy from receiving best gift he was given (a signaling whistle from Gricko; ep.17)

An ounce of his fear (ep.29)

Clothes:

Duke Ickrind's Brooche pinned to his chest (ep.25)

Pacts/contracts:

Pixie Ticket Pact: In exchange for Gideon marrying Taxie to get him his ticket, he will do at least one nice thing for Gideon each day and one bigger favour once every two weeks; not as much pact as bros wanting to be fair (ep.14)

Fear: Being alone, being the last one standing and going insane, being left out (ep.12)

Status: Alive, with the Krew

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Torbek

Languages: Common, Goblin

Class: Blood Hunter (Presumably tweaked Mutant)

Abilities: -7hp/??hp; 1x Dimension Door spell (ep.23; used it to get the Naked Satyr out of his cage); 1x free nat20 (ep.28);

Title/s: Brigand Prince of Prismeer (by conquest; ep.22); Ribble, Knight of the Pickledfly (by King Gullop XIX; ep.27); One of creators of the Frogna Croaka (ep.36)

In possession from beginning:

Old Witchlight Carnival ticket 1/8 (ep.20)

Filthy Sack (ep.20)

Items acquired:

Bloodstained blue scarf (ep.23)

Small brass whistle (ep.28)

A Book (ep.29)

Knights standard ribbon (ep.32)

Red chesspiece from the King (ep.34)

Set of x3 dice from Kremy (ep.36)

Magical Rose from Satyr

A beautiful large blue rose flower in full bloom, glinting with magic, growing out of a twig of some sort of creeping plant he broke off that is clearly not rose. It's nearly pristine and not showing any signs of wilting. Having it near you, you feel... lucky. . (It works like a Luckstone; While this item is on your person, you gain a + 1 bonus to ability checks and saving throws.)

Trinkets:

50 - Tiny hourglass without sand in it (ep.23)

82 - Petrified robin's egg (ep.23)

39 - Vial of viscous liquid labeled "Fomorian spit. Do not drink!" (ep.23)

64 - Piano key carved from a satyr's horn (ep.23)

Clothes:

Contraption - A big contraption consisting of weird fey machinery and containers with liquid Witchlight embedded into his flesh on his back. It cannot be removed and it activates due unknown trigger, turning him into a feral beast (ep.19)

The blue rose, fixed to his lappel

Status: Alive, with the Krew

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Twig [NPC] (ep.19)

Languages: Common, Sylvan

Class: Warlock (most likely with an Archfey patron)

Abilities: -1 lvl1 spell slot

In possession from beginning:

Acorn Satchel (ep.20)

Inn at The End of The Road shrunk down and kept in the Satchel (ep.20)

Items acquired:

Sterling silver comb from Gideon {Inn} (ep.19; given to Twig as payment)

Signaling whistle from Frost {Inn} (ep.19; given as payment)

Ball of red yarn from Frost {Inn?} (ep.20)

Trinket Ledger (ep.23)

Frog key to Morgort's cage

Bundle of Sticks (after dismantling it, it revealed that inside it is)

Mysterious Wand (ep.29)

Small dagger from Frost (ep.31)

Set of x3 dice from Kremy (ep.36)

Trinkets:

Wooden mouse figurine that squeaks when squeezed (ep.23)

Set of false wooden teeth x2 (ep.23)

Tiny beehive (literal hive of bees) wig made for sprites or pixies (ep.23)

Tiny wooden stool (sized for a pixie or sprite) that gives splinters to those who hold it if they're not an owner (ep.23)

Clothes:

Status: Alive, with the Krew;

Pigtunia [NPC]

Class: Familiar (Twig's)

Status: Alive, with the Krew

. .

Krew (The Party)

In possession from beginning:

2 gold pieces (ep.1)

Items acquired:

5 gold pieces (ep.2; for street-performing)

Wand of the Pact Breaker 3/3 (ep.15, currently in Frost's possession)

Duke Ickrind's Brooche (ep.25; currently in Frost's possession)

Charm of the King (ep.27)

A letter from Bavlorna (currently in Gideon's possession; ep.32)

A small wooden chest from King (ep.32)

Very large paddle boat, rented out until the evening (ep.33)

A bottle of wine from King of Hearts (in Frost's possession; ep.(ep.36)

Pacts/contracts:

With Madrik Roslov: In exchange for checking if Zybilna is alright, and if true, giving her the letter he wrote, Party will get what is left from his possessions once he passes away (ep.1)

With Diana Cloppington: In exchange for riddle concerning Prismeer, with knowledge and information she was able to store about current state of it in it, Party promises to, at least, attempt to help her return to human and be reunited with Sir Cloppington; Not really Fey Pact but on their rules (ep.2)

With Palasha & Candlefoot: In exchange for bringing Candelfoots voice back they pledged allegiance with Krew and promised to come and help them if they ever need them; not as much pact as keeping true to Third Rule (ep.13)

With Clapperclaw: In exchange for retrieving their head they will transport Krew to Tither (ep.23)

With Sir Talivar: upon receiving the message wit the key to his cage he's obligated to organize an audience with Titania, queen of Summer Court for Krew (ep.24)

With King of Hearts: In exchange for information about and weaknesses of each hag, if party comes to the gates of the Palace of Hearts Desire and provides him an trinket from each of the hags in next 13 days, he'll provide the Krew with info they need to complete their task and defeat the hags, clear their debt and give each of them their deepest hearts desire; If they're unable to complete it in time, all, both Krew and Prismeer, shall be lost; According to him, if they didn't accept the deal he would just leave them to fend by themselves until their time runned out and then after, leaving them unable to escape the realm. After shaking on it, all of them began hearing soft ticking in their heads and shall until the deals deadline (ep.34)

Info provided about Hags: (ep.34) -- Bavlorna Blightstraw - A Hag of present, ruler of Hither. Those that seek her out do so to resolve a nagging problem or anxiety, a problem with the here and now. A trinket from her needs to represent her present magic. Her downfall is widdershins (counterclockwise) -- Skabatha Nightshade - A Hag of the past, better known as Granny Nightshade, she offers her assistance to those hunted by regret. A trinket from her needs to represent her past magic. She is a part toy. She has a wind-up key protruding from her back, of which speed of turning can tell what she's truly feeling - she is a master of hiding her true intentions. -- Endelyn Moongrave - Better known as Creeping Lyn or Bitter End, people seek her out to learn about their futures. A trinket from her needs to represent her future magic. Her downfall is that she has seen her own death and it haunts her.

Altered states:

New rule - They can do 3 Twists of Fate to cancel out 1 Twist of Dread (ep.18)

Twist of Fate curses:

Twist of Dread curses (by DM):

Silent Dread (ep.34)

Would you kindly...

To-do list:

Get the 100,00 gold pieces by the end of the month (ep.1)

Find out why Madrik Roslovs patron, Zybilna, stopped answering his calls for 15 years so he can die in peace, knowing her fate (ep.1)

Get to the Witchlight Carnival before it ends and find the only available entrance to Prismeer, Zybilnas domain (ep.1; completed)

Try to become Witchlight Monarch (ep.1; completed)

Find out who was the man that cut off Lexi Pott's wings, why he did that and what happened with them (ep.1)

Find a way to reunite Diana Cloppington with her with her horse, Sir Cloppington, and return them to their previous forms (ep.2)

Win Cake Eating contest (ep.3; completed)

Find a way to return Candlefoots voice (ep.4; completed)

Find some clothes for Torbek (ep.6; completed)

Keep Torbek occupied for an hour when Carnival Hands find manacles for him and take him away for his punishment (ep.8; completed)

Catch the Kenku and bring her to Mr Witch & Mr Light for her punishment in exchange for some answers (ep.9; not realised)

Get ahold of Mr Witch's Pocketwatch or Mr Light's Weathervane and keep it hostage to get the true answers to what they seek (ep.9; completed)

Get reunited with Hootsie (ep.16, completed)

Avenge Willa and find a way to free her from being tied to the Well (ep.17)

Find Brody Snake-Snake in Yon and deliver him message from his parents (ep.18)

Retrieve a key to his cage from goblin named Jingle Jangle and free Sir Talavar from it (ep.18; completed)

Take care of Harengons so they don't harass Jingle Jangle anymore and return her truffle bag (ep.21; completed)

Retrieve Clapperclaws head, a stag skull, from Agdon Longscarf and return it (ep.22)

Get Twig all limited edition Bunko-Pops of the Krew as drag queens if they ever have a chance (ep.25)

The False Flag Plan: Pin disappearance of Bavlorna's Big Book of Bad Blood on someone who is NOT King Gullop XIX but on darklings that got him it with suggestion that her sister sent them for it (ep.27)

Reform Downfall from hereditary monarchy into constitutional republic (ep.27; completed)

Find a way for Morgort to not get killed (ep.27; completed)

Have Gideon fight Chuckles as Morgort's champion, defeating evil clown in her name so that her life is spared (ups; ep.28)

Convince entire Soggy Court and Downfall of Morgort's innocence by performing an opera as political propaganda (ep.29; completed)

Find out who the Guy with the Boots is and take care of him so he doesn't hurt Torbek again (ep.29)

Go to Bavlorna's Cottage next night for the dinner to talk about possible deals they would make in exchange for things she can offer (ep.30; failed?)

Win Electrum Chef (ep.31; completed)

Find a way to tell Morgort about Wigglewog (ep.32)

Find a trinkets from hags associated with their respective magic, one from each, in next 13 days and bring them to the King of Hearts, next to the gate of Palace of Hearts Desire (ep.34)

If they ever find it in Bavlorna's Cottage, give back Coral Heartray his still beating heart so that he can feel emotions again (ep.34)

Find out "the fine print" of Mr Witch and Mr Light's deal with Hags (ep.37)

Find the creature that stollen Kremy's hat and retrieve it (ep.37)

Have Frost teleport two Lornlings into an empty pot, so that Bloody Toes can sate her urge to bathe in blood of her enemies (Lornlings acquired)

Get the naked satyr, Vansel, out of his cage (completed)

.

Time

9th day of Campaign, 7th day in Prismeer, Feywild, early evening - about hour and half later

?th of the month (?? days until The Debt deadline)

11 days until the King of Hearts' deadline ~(11d, 17h, 30m)

Random Info

Man whose name Lexi Pott was unable to say was going to "wake her" and she was very scared for the Party meeting him. When they mentioned name Zybilna, she said they "already were too deep" (ep.1)

After Lexi Pott died, Party was surrounded by Fairy Ring made up from mushrooms (ep.1)

Tasha and Iggwilv The Witch Queen are the same person (ep.4)

Chuckles said Gideon will join clowns in Hell and become Eighth Clown Lord of Crazy Eights (ep.7)

Torbek's poem is based on Immortality by Clare Harner (ep.8)

Burly the bugbear has a twin, Hurly, that went missing (ep.9)

Mr Witch and Mr Light got into pact for them to be able to run the Witchlight Carnival in exchange for things it wants (people breaking rules) to Hourglass Coven (ep.11)

The original owner of Witchlight Carnival was an archfey (ep.11)

Fey Pacts leave magical aura around those which they bind that are visible to fae (ep.11)

Whatever is stollen from Carnival always finds its way into Prismeer (ep.16)

The only people from Carnival staff who go outside its bounds are Witchlight Hands. All other creatures stay inside (ep.16)

According to Mr Light, Krew is affected by Fae Magic way more than anyone he have ever seen in his life for some reason (ep.16)

Mr Witch's last words were "Mind the rule of three - future, present, past" and Mr Light's were "Find the alicorn and free the dormant Queen at last" (ep.16)

Brody Snake-Snake went to act at The Theater in Yon and haven't been in any contact with his parents since (ep.18)

Wigglewog is stated to be "very well dressed and very well dead" (ep.18)

Hags used Iggwilv's Caudron to freeze time inside Zybilnas Palace, trapping the archfey inside (ep.18)

Time works differently in Feywild (ep.18)

Torbek is at least five years older than the last time Krew saw him and doesn't have recollection of what happened to him during majority of this time (ep.19)

The magenta liquid in Torbeks machinery is made of Witchlight, an extremely potent Feywild drug made from Witch Cup mushroom found only in deep parts of Feydark; due how hard it is to procure only the richest can afford it, like archfey (ep.19)

Jingle Jangle can only refer to herself in third person since she made deal with Bavlorna, because she lost sense of self when she was made to be obsessed with keys. However, as far as she knows, Jingle Jangle has always been her name (ep.21)

The only entities that can move between Realms of Prismeer are Hags and few guides that somehow found a way to travel between; the only one known in Hither is a pincer-clawed scarecrow, Clapperclaw (ep.21)

Tither is ruled by Granny Nightshade (ep.21)

Granny Nightshade, the hag that made Clapperclaw, gave its head to the Hag ruling in Hither, Bavlorna, and then she gave it to Agdon Longscarf; it looks like a stag skull (ep.23)

In Feywild, unless someone has someone next of kin or ever specified otherwise, after their death their belongings cease to belong to anyone, making taking them away and claiming as your own perfectly legal and not a case of breaking any of The Rules (ep.23)

Person, of which voice Krew heard in the dream vision and Torbek heard on the table on which he was experimented on, told Torbek telepathically that "They are coming", that Torbek won't be able to separate from "him" any time soon and that number 13 will have some kind of significance (ep.23)

Torbek has in the past unexplainably survived many instances of fatal situations that by any accounts should've killed him (like falling off the Harris Wheel uncountable number of times despite no one else falling off it more than once, ep.23; eating a whole rubber hose after mistaking it for licorice and passing out for almost two weeks, ep.34; severely burning off all his facial hair, completely covering his face in scars for several years, only for it to be seemingly perfectly fine now, ep.38; Eat copious amounts of vulture feathers from several birds without seemingly any side effects)

The ash on the place where the unicorn horn was cut off is sulfuric in nature, just like whatever was stopping Lexi Pott's wounds from closing up (ep.29)

The Witch's Cup mushroom is definitely main but most likely not the only ingredient of the Witchlight in Torbek's containers (ep.29)

Carlfish are a species of a Feywild talking fish; all of them are named Carl and they behave like stereotypical gym bros (homebrewed; ep.31)

Beezleberies are a type of a magical berry in shades of burning fire with juice sacks that need to be milked to get their juice. Behind them there is a hidden gummy heart that stinks horribly but tastes delicious. They whisper ominous and disturbing things in hundreds of voices, even after being baked. A faint heartbeat is faintly audible from it. After being removed their seeds need to be burned, otherwise they'll turn into horrible abominations (homebrewed; ep.32) if not eaten quick enough, food made out from it can make your eyes scream (after closing them little teeth replace your eyelashes and they begin to let out horrid screams every time you open them) or run off (ep.33)

Pigtunia reported a frog man tried to free Sir Talivar from his cage and later on helped him with repairing the balloon and he and his neck didn't seem to be in any way damaged (ep.33)

The barn owl that party have seen is a one of forms of man that introduces himself as King of Hearts, an unnaturally beautiful and perfect archfey humanoid creature with a barn owl face mask covering upper half of his face, that claims to be one of the former rulers of Prismeer. He was supposedly cursed by the mother of three hags to be unable to enter the Castle where Zybilna is trapped. Supposedly, barn owl is a form of his familiar, as he is the moon to Zybilna's sun. He's able to cast spells and has a silver pocket watch that seems to be able to manipulate passage of time. (ep.34)

According to the King of Hearts, the Contraption on Torbek's back is not Prismeer-made but of somewhere deeper in the Feywild, probably by someone from the Twilight Court, and he claims to know who might be responsible for it. (ep.34)

King of Hearts never either confirmed nor denied that he's the Tight Pants Dude from their visions, nor wherever they are true, just gave them incredulous comments about them being ready to believe some dreams or visions over him. However, the state in which the unicorn is right now according to him seems to be perfectly aligning with the unicorn horn vision Kremy had. (ep.34)

The mirror in Bavlorna’s bathroom leads to the Hall of Mirrors in Witchlight Carnival and going by what they saw in it, Mr Witch and Mr Light just began to walk away from it in Material Plane (ep.37)

Grickos tracking spell suddenly stopped working prematurely, meaning that Kremy's hat either was teleported over 1000 feet away or was taken to another plane of existence (ep.37)

Jelly Worm is a giant worm-like 30ft long and 10ft wide in diameter creature with properties of a gelatinous cube/the ooze with its teeth rotating and covering the whole inside of its maw. It appears to be the reason why the well wasn't working and the acidity of the water (homebrewed, ep.37)

Despite them being in fights and dangerous situations numerous times after the Agdon Longscarf Confrontation, the Other haven't appeared since then. It would suggest that the adrenaline, stress and/or fighting aren't direct triggers to him emerging. They theorise it may be Agdon having actual blood in him unlike the Jelly Worm, but it can't be the case because literally in the last fight his whole hand was covered in blood after he shredded a pixie with it. (ep.38)

Torbek weighs about 250 pounds, 180 without the Contraption (ep.38)

.

Bavlorna has a visitor right now, one of the darklings from the balloon shop. She's a guest frequently, often staying for hours and drinking tea with Bavlorna. During this time she shares whatever new information about Bavlornas sisters she learned

Bloody Toes is imprisoned by Bavlorna as her chef. She can somehow sate her murderous urges by also being her butcher but according to her it's not enough

According to Bloody Toes, Bavlorna's stomach is so acidic she can eat anything, including poisons (she was also able to eat chunks of glass and syringes during Electrum Chef without any visible difficulties)

After giving the party the rose as a reward for freeing him from the cage (which was mentioned to be non magical whatsoever), the naked satyr jumps off the cliff they were standing on. There is no sound from where he jumped, besides faint flapping of wings. According to Twig, his smile and behaviour was kinda weird, uncanny, strange, unnatural and bizarre.

Total money: 817 gold pieces

.<- Previous | Masterlist | Next ->

[locationbuildingprompts]

Location Building Prompt #283

[mostly-imagines]

The Venus Drug

jason todd x afab!reader

aka the side effects of a run-in with poison ivy

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), sex pollen so its inherently not strictly speaking consensual, oral (f & m receiving), free use, overstimulation

A clattering in your living room has you blearily shifting awake. The dark of your bedroom takes your eyes longer to adjust to than usual, it feels like. You peer at the time, finding it only just past midnight. Even on the good nights, midnight is pretty early for him to be coming back. 

Though, there’s really little concern of the noise-maker being anyone but your boyfriend, he’s set up too many security measures and failsafes around your apartment for anyone to get lucky waltzing in. It does worry you though that he is making such a clamor when he’s usually so careful about entering silently as to not wake you. 

You’re about to climb out of bed to investigate when the door creaks open, though light doesn’t flood through the crack like you’d expected.

Jason stumbles into the doorway, falling into a lean against the wall for support.

You sit up quickly, instantly on alert. “What’s wrong?”

He takes one glance at you and immediately averts his gaze to the floor like he saw something he wasn’t supposed to.

You look down, thrown by his behavior, only to see your usual nighttime attire: one of his shirts over underwear.

You blink back up at him, furrowing your brow. “Jay?”

You can vaguely make out a sigh from him, “Fuck…” he squeezes his eyes shut. “Ivy..”

Ah. This has happened before to the others, but this is the first time you’ve seen him affected by it. You’re prepared for it, though you hadn’t anticipated that it would be so seemingly debilitating.

“What can I do?” You try not to look as concerned as you feel but you can’t say with confidence that it’s working.

He slowly pushes himself off the doorframe, heading wearily towards the bathroom. He tugs his shirt off with difficulty, tossing it to the side. “Nothing, nothing..I jus’ need to…” he takes a deep breath, “Get it out of my system..” He’s trying to be comforting but the pain in his voice rids it of all believability.

You frown, watching him linger. “That seems like the exact kind of thing I could help with.”

His eyes close helplessly as his head falls back, “You can’t, baby.”

“Why not?”

He sighs, “I’m not…as in control as I’d like to be right now.”

Your pout deepens. This is something you’re working on with him—trusting both you and himself with vulnerability. Especially when it comes to situations where he feels like he’s putting you in a vulnerable place too. But you trust him with your whole being and you want him to know it. “That’s okay.”

“No,” he shakes his head vehemently. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” you say resolutely. “I trust you.”

He wavers, “No, I…No. I can’t.”

He says that, but he’s still not retreating to the bathroom. Instead, he loiters awkwardly, like he’s caught between decisions.

You feel a twinge of heartache in your chest, “Does it hurt?”

He’s quick to answer, “I’m alright.” Though he doesn’t try his hardest to sell you on the idea. 

Your face pans, “That’s not what I asked.”

“I—” he huffs, conceding. “Yeah. Yes.”

You extend your arms out, beckoning him towards you. It clearly goes against his better judgment but he can’t help himself from moving closer to you. An evident testament to the strength of Ivy’s work.

You take his hands in yours, looking up at him with begging eyes, “Let me help you? Please?”

Up close like this you can really see how labored his breathing is and how pained he looks. You sit up onto your knees, pulling his hands closer. “I wanna take care of you. Let me help my boy out. He deserves it.”

He steels his jaw, trying to replenish his rapidly weakening resolve. He exhales heavily before grabbing your chin, eyes serious. “Look at me,” he says sternly. “You stop me if I’m too rough.”

You nod adamantly, “I will.”

You fidget with the loop of his belt, waiting for permission. 

He squeezes your hands slowly, head bowing. “Help me, sweetheart.”

You’re instantly up on your feet, maneuvering him to switch places with you and sit down on the bed. You kneel down in front of him, undoing the clasp on his belt.

You tug his belt off, letting it clatter on the floor before freeing him the rest of the way. To your surprise, his eyes remain on you rather than your actions. He brushes your hair out of your face haphazardly, murmuring, “Pretty fucking girl..”

You keen at his words, fighting the urge to pause and rub up against him. Instead, you busy yourself and lick a line up his cock, immediately feeling his body stutter. You lick another stripe, this time adding a kiss afterwards.

His hands squeeze at the comforter under him, “Baby, please.”

You give a short nod before taking him in your mouth completely. He groans like it’s automatic, body practically vibrating in place. You rest your hands over his and he’s quick to turn his own over to hold onto yours.

It only works as a momentary distraction, as one of his hands leaves your grasp to move your hair from blocking his view again, petting your head nicely as you suck him off. “Oh, good girl. My good girl.”

He babbles when he gets overwhelmed during sex, though it doesn’t happen often. And especially not like this.

“Fucking—” he stammers, “God, you’re so—”

Frankly, the image of you on your knees in front of him, so willing and eager to help him out…it’s killing him. He’s putting absolutely all of his remaining restraint into not taking over and fucking your mouth the way he wants to—and it shows—so you’re doing your best to take as much of him in your mouth as you can and using your hand to compensate for the rest.

His head bobs back as his hand falls to a rest atop your head. His breathing is deep and heavy and you can see the way his abs flex through his restraint. His hand briefly fists up before stuttering back to lay open-palmed on your head.

“Oh, baby—” he lets out a gravelly moan and his arms nearly give out from holding him up as he comes.

You happily collect it on your tongue and he audibly groans when you swallow.

He’s quick to pull you up off the floor and place you on the bed so he can clamor over you. You fall back to have your arms hold you up as he finds your lips. 

“Take your shirt off,” he tells you breathlessly. “Please.”

You oblige without hesitation as he kisses and gropes along your torso. You don’t realize what he’s doing until he’s at face level with your underwear, fingers dipping under the band.

You sit up onto your hands, “Jay, you don’t have to—”

He shakes his head, “‘M not gonna hurt you,” he mumbles, very adamant. “Not doin’ it.”

It’s been a long running personal requirement for Jason to thoroughly prep you in some way before fucking you, and he’s right for it—you would definitely get hurt if he didn’t.

You feel conflicted about it now though, like it’s not fair of you to let him pay such mind to you when he’s quite literally in unprecedented pain.

But he slips your underwear down without hesitation, not wasting any time in getting to work. He doesn’t start with his usual teasing and build-up, instead he goes straight into licking at your core, eyes closed and strands of white hair stuck to his forehead. 

He hooks one hand around your knee and the other wraps around your thigh, pulling you closer. He used the newfound proximity to lap at you with more concentration and purpose, quite literally devouring you. You struggle to keep your breathing in tune with the rest of your body, not having been prepared for so much so quickly.

He’s eating you out like it’s the only thing keeping him alive, not giving himself any time to breathe or even think about anything else. You’re about to push him away so that he’ll take a breath or two when he moans into your cunt, instantly veering your brain straight off course.

He breaks from licking your pussy only to change course in favor of sucking on your clit, leaving open-mouthed kisses every few seconds. You thread your fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him as best you can.

This is a new experience for both of you in terms of intensity and desperation and it has you feeling like you were injected with the same toxin he was. It throws you so completely out of your senses that you don’t even notice that he’s rutting into the bed as he kisses you. Though, odds are he doesn’t realize he’s doing it either.

His grip on you tightens as he gets more fervent, the dig from the indents of his fingers promising to bruise. His eyes flutter as he makes out with your pussy, little mewls making their way through periodically.

“Jay—” you cry, tugging harder than you’d meant to on his hair. He hums in response, letting you know that he’s here, he’s with you, he’ll take care of you. 

Even high out of his mind he can still read you like a book, and can tell that you’re nearing your peak. He gets meditated and precise with his actions, leading you right up to the edge. You whimper again and he begins to rut harder.

It takes only a few moments of this repetition for you to briefly tense up before you start to tremble, heat flooding through your body. The saccharine new taste of your cum motivates him to reach his own end, moaning into you and sending a second wave of rapture over you.

You exhale heavily as his forehead drops against your stomach, catching his breath. It doesn’t take him very long. 

You can just start to realize the persistent trembling in your thighs when he licks another stripe down your pussy. You whine, sitting up on your elbows and squirming higher up on the bed.

He pulls back murmuring, “Sorry.” He kisses the inside of your thigh, “Sorry.”

You watch as he pushes up on his forearms to look at you proper, seeming almost dizzy. “I need..I need…” his shoulders drop. “Please.”

You just nod, giving him permission to do whatever he needs. 

He pulls you up by the waist and tugs you into him as close as he can, kissing you hard. You move to hold his jaw in your hands, stroking your thumb across lightly. He leans you backwards to lay you down flat, head just below the pillows. He folds over you easily, kisses becoming less and less intentional in placement as his hands stroke and squeeze up your sides. 

He pulls away only to glance down as he lines himself up with you, pushing in slowly. He peers back up at your face as he does, watching carefully to make sure it doesn’t hurt.

You hold onto his shoulders as you take him, the stretch feeling significant but familiar.

He kisses your cheek once he’s fully inside and begins to rock in and out of you slowly. The pace picks up quickly as he continues to makeout with you.

A particularly intense thrust has you wrapping your arms fully around the frame of his shoulders, hugging him close to you. He immerses himself in the crook of your neck, fucking you with deeper and more punctuated strokes than you can remember.

“Jay,” you gasp as he places firm kisses across your jaw like he’s trying to hammer it into your head that he fucking loves you.

His thrusts gradually get faster and while it’s perfectly overwhelming for you, it doesn’t seem to be enough for him. 

He huffs before pulling out of you without warning. He untangles your arms from around him so he can flip you over to lay on your stomach. He pulls you back up just as quickly, arm wrapped around your torso, leaving you to hold yourself up by your hands and knees as he kisses on your neck messily.

This time when he reenters you he continues on with his previous pace, taking you by surprise once again. Your mouth is practically hanging open as he ruts into you, successfully sending your thoughts straight out of your head.

He lays kisses down your spine murmuring, “I love you.” He moves in and out of you without falter, “Thank you, thank you..”

His hands hold your waist in place, keeping you steady for both of your sakes. Multiple times his grip tightens only to loosen the second he realizes how hard he’s squeezing you. You don’t mind though, you’ve never had any trouble revering marks left behind by him before. 

“It’s—” you pant, “It’s okay—” you reach back to put your hand over his, pressing down.

His brash hold returns upon the permission, more assured. “Good girl, good—” he praises, “So fucking good for me, baby.”

He reaches around and dips his free hand below your hips, beginning to rub circles on your clit.

Your arms shake and you worry that they’re nearing buckling, but, attuned with you as ever, his arm wraps tighter around your middle, pulling you up a bit higher so that you barely have to mind any of the work of holding yourself up.

He makes sure to support your weight nicely, holding you in a way that he knows won’t be uncomfortable for you. His circles never cease, never falter from that just right pace he’s come to know like the back of his hand.

You’re brought to your high by the arrival of his, struggling to keep your head upright as you come.

He thumps down over to the side to lay on his back, chest heaving. You pick up your head to look over at him, finding that he doesn’t look nearly as exhausted as you’re sure you do. Still, he breathes heavy, pupils blown out and sweaty.

You notice how his fists clinch up and loosen a couple times over, trying to convince himself that he’s done, he doesn’t need any more from you, he’s all better now. 

But you also notice that he’s still hard. His eyes are fixed on the ceiling, dead set on not looking at you and having to confront that he really, really does still need you.

So you force yourself to sit up, placing a hand on his chest for balance. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to relax for your sake but that’s the last thing you want him to do.

You push yourself up and over his waist, perching over his abs and brushing his hair back from his forehead. You press a kiss to his head before sitting up on your knees and reaching down to line his cock up with your entrance.

You plant a hand on his chest as you sink down onto him with a deep breath.

“You’re okay,” he rasps, watching in mesmerization as you start to lift your weight up slowly off of your thighs and sink back down.

“I’m okay,” you confirm, guiding his hands to your hips. The presence of his hands on you feels like reassurance and works wonders to help you pick back up some of your energy.

The pace you latch onto feels good, for both of you, but you realize fairly quickly that you’re not going to be able to go as fast as he needs you to.

His hands slip down from your hips to your upper thighs, helping you bob up and down. It doesn’t take long for this to give way to him grabbing your hips and moving you entirely himself.

You watch his arm muscles flex as he shifts you around, leaving you awed with the way he shows virtually no struggle while shifting the majority of your body weight up and down over and over again. Just being completely manhandled by him has you letting out an involuntary moan, letting your head fall back.

“There you go, there you go,” he coos, motions without cessation.

He has you riding him faster than you ever have before and it becomes overwhelming quickly. But Jason, ever the caretaker, coaches you through it, encouraging your every movement.

“That’s my girl,” he groans, watching the way your breasts bounce. “Perfect fucking thing.”

The acclaim in his voice makes your eyes shut and your diaphragm shake, all while he continues to fuck you senseless. 

Your body stutters above him, hands flying onto his for support. He comes only moments later, seemingly the only thing that could break his concentration for ragdolling you. The following release of your hips has you slumping over onto his chest, face laying in the bend of his neck.

He turns his head wearily to you, rubbing a hand up your back. “‘R you okay?” he slurs out.

You hum feebly, eyes unable to stay open.

“Can I…?” It takes hearing the words for you to realize that somehow he’s still hard.

You try to nod hard enough that it can be distinguished against the heaviness of your breathing, though you can’t be sure you were successful.

He sighs, “Baby…”

His hangup is immediately clear to you, even through the haze of being post-three orgasms in less than thirty minutes. It takes real, measurable effort to get this singular word through, but you manage.

“Yes,” you breathe out. A ‘yes’ is going to have to work for him because you don’t have a shot at stringing together anymore syllables.

He places a gentle hand on the back of your head, his other landing on your lower back. He slowly starts to fuck you again, this time much softer than before. It’s calm enough that you can settle into the fatigue in your bones and start to feel the exhaustion sweep over your consciousness.

In between kisses laid sweetly upon your neck, He murmurs affections to you the whole time, though you lose almost all of them to sleep. He moves you around a bit more as he goes, though careful to be gentle enough that he doesn’t disturb your peace anymore than he has to.

By the time he’s done he’s bordering on completely out of it and can’t do anything but collapse atop you, nuzzling into your neck.

There’s a pretty consistent pattern that can be found when helping him deal with post-patrol aftermath. Scarecrow’s never any good, his pop-ups tend to end in winding Jason down from panic. There’s always injuries after Bane and invariably there’ll be a mess from Clayface. Half the time he has to get an entirely new suit after a run-in with Killer Croc. So as far as Gotham’s problems go, Poison Ivy isn’t the worst. 

the morning after epilogue

✨ oh you don’t reblog? that’s…no, that’s totally fine for you! im so happy for you…i mean its just been out of fashion for like three seasons but yeah, that shows a lot of…confidence! ✨

[natcordeaux]

Backyard - Gravel Photo of a large traditional full sun backyard gravel formal garden in spring.

[fyeahlsy]

Mediterranean Landscape Inspiration for a sizable brick water fountain in a Mediterranean backyard setting.

[galaktikmermaidcosplay]

Fountain Patio Santa Barbara An illustration of a fountain made of Tuscan bricks without a cover

[factcheckingthefords]

Landscape in Santa Barbara Inspiration for a large mediterranean backyard brick water fountain landscape.

[pseudowho]

Yet Another Nanami Kento Sex Pollen Fic, Part One

Owing our Reader for pleasuring him after his prior drunk escapades, Kento allows himself to be thoroughly used after the Reader encounters some rather unusual pollen.

Read Part Two HERE!

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Hey, darling. Home soon? I was going to run out and grab some wine."

You smiled warmly at Kento's voice over the phone, brushing your mission clothes off with one hand while you surveyed the wreck of your surroundings. The factory you were in seemed ancient, despite its abandonment in just the last decade. Its back wall, you noted, was formed of collapsed brickwork, opening out onto a patch of hazy woodland. You were curious to investigate.

"Soon," you promised Kento, "the main Curse body is gone. I'm just going to do a last sweep around. You know, I--"

"-- like to be thorough," Kento parroted you, knowing you so well. You rolled your eyes at him. Hearing him chuckle, he reassured you, "No, no, I like it. You're thorough. It's a turn-on, I promise." Laughing lightly as you stepped over damp brickwork and ivy, you heard the jangle of Kento's keys over the phone.

"Well, Sir, if I'm that much of a turn-on, you'd best get that wine. I'm ready for our evening." Kento gave you an approving hum, and bid you get home soon.

Hanging up, you stepped into the humidity of what appeared to be a totally enclosed patch of woodland, sprung like an oasis, half-in and half-out of the crumbled factory walls. Beautiful flowers, wild with a heady scent, sprouted from beds of moss and ivy, and low-hanging trees dropped jewels of dew onto the springy floor. You felt yourself becoming heavy-headed and warm. Bending down to inspect a particularly beautiful pink-budded succulent, you squeaked in shock when the buds puffed open into a surprising shade of yellow, coating you in a fine mist of pollen.

Sneezing, you backed away. Bumping against the residual wall, you noticed the forest starting to crumble away from the edges, disintegrating in the same way as the main Curse-body had. With a sinking feeling in your stomach, you recognised you had nearly been so foolish as to walk straight into the remains of its dying belly. Telling yourself off for your gullibility, you watched from the factory as the forest faded away, leaves rising like ashes into the mist.

You felt flushed, heart thumping behind your breasts as you left the factory, finding Ijichi waiting patiently for you outside the veil. Ijichi smiled to you, bowing, thanking you for your services. He held the car door open for you, and you climbed in, grateful for the chance to sit down.

Except, as the car rumbled to life, every small vibration, every graze of the cool leather against your flushed skin, every time you caught the smell of Ijichi's shampoo, you felt the agonising thud of arousal between your legs. You mentally shook yourself when catching yourself looking Ijichi up and down from the back seat, admiring how his hands managed the steering wheel so smoothly, and you were appalled that this wonderful, kind, gorgeous man didn't have a girlfriend yet. Maybe you could be his girlfriend, you thought fleetingly, you'd know how to treat him right--

"Everything okay?" Ijichi caught your eyes in the mirror, full of concern as you gasped at yourself and slapped your own cheeks. Cheeks pink, breasts heaving with deep breaths and underwear increasingly wet, you knew you needed to get home to Kento. There was absolutely nobody else you needed right now, and surely this would wear off, surely he would help you deal with your desire as you had helped with his, in the shower that night--

"I'm okay, Ijichi, I'm fine!" You babbled, arms folded across your chest to hide your pebbled nipples, "Just tired! You know how it is. Busy day." You laughed nervously, hiding your face in shame as Ijichi politely bowed his head and continued to drive you home.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento dropped his keys onto the shelf, slipping out of his shoes and into house slippers as he leaned back against the door, shutting it with a click.

His heart gave a happy leap when he heard you rummaging around the bathroom; you were home. Rolling the wine bottle in his broad palm, he fetched two glasses. In the process of uncorking the bottle, he pretended not to notice as you walked up behind him. He regretted feigning ignorance when he felt sharp teeth nip into the back of his shoulder.

Kento spun, startled, and barely had time to save the open bottle of wine when he was pushed with surprising force back against the table. All thoughts and blood rushed straight to his cock as he felt your body, insistent and hot press against his. Kento offered no resistance at first as you grabbed the back of his neck, fingers sinking into his hair to pull him down for a kiss, but stopped immediately at the feverish and desperate look in your eyes.

Kento gripped your shoulders and held you at arm's length, scowling deeply as he appraised you. Still in mission-wear. Flushed. Eyes glazed. Heat radiating off you.

"You're...hurt? What happened? Tell me." Kento ordered, already moving to grab his keys- you needed Shoko's attention. You moved instantly to block Kento's path, eyes fixed on him and pupils dilated as you panted, arousal thrumming through you in waves, your blood rushing in your ears and between your legs. Not swayed, and firm in his decision, Kento restrained you effortlessly, one arm trapping both of yours behind your back, and another arm diagonally across your breasts.

As Kento's arms pressed your body firmly against his own, you moaned and Kento short-circuited. Not letting go, breath tickling the side of your face, Kento stared at you.

"What happened?" he repeated. You pressed your head back against his shoulder, whimpering in frustration.

"The Curse was very plant-like I suppose, and it had a garden, and these pollen pods just exploded all over me, and since then I've just...I just...god Kento please just fuck me, I'm begging you."

With a blush, it finally clicked for Kento-  you weren't hurt, you were uncontrollably horny. He gulped, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth, and cock hardening against his thigh. In a measured voice, Kento replied.

"You're in no fit state to demand I fuck you. You're under the influence of that curse, and I won't take advantage of you like that."

"Who said anything about you taking advantage?" You whined, rubbing your arse back against his hardening cock, "I'm asking if you'll let me take advantage of you." You squirmed against Kento, one of your pinned hands sneaking between the buttons of his shirt to rub his V-line. Your head turned sharply and you bit Kento's neck hard enough to draw blood. Kento yelped in alarm, now moving you swiftly forwards and pressing you into the wall, using one arm and one knee between your legs to pin you there.

"You minx," he gasped. Wiping at his neck with one hand and holding your wrists in another, Kento watched as you squirmed against the wall, thighs clamped furiously together for relief, blush creeping down your breasts.

"Kento, please," you begged, "I helped you. When you came home, drunk. And you promised you wouldn't refuse me."

"You and I both know that was--"

"It was no different!" Kento let his silence hang in the air. He knew as soon as he let you go, you'd be undressing him in seconds. He was furious to find himself thrilled at the thought. Being used as your toy sounded absolutely delicious.

"If I let you use me for some relief, but it doesn't work, I'll be taking you to Shoko immediately. Understood?" You nodded frantically, hands clenching and unclenching desperately in Kento's grasp. Kento walked you slowly back to the table, and you heard him knock back his glass of wine. You felt a glass placed to your lips, and Kento's smooth voice in your ear, "Bottoms up," as you gulped the wine, the alcohol hitting your heightened senses immediately, and your need for Kento to be buried inside you was suddenly furious and burning.

Kento let go of your wrists, and you jumped him, quite literally, arms locked behind his neck and legs around his waist. Kento grunted in surprise as your lips crashed against his with bruising force, the taste of blood and red wine on his tongue as you forced yours into his mouth, immediately dominant in a way that aroused him to his very core. Kento's hands cupped your arse perfectly, and you shifted your weight so Kento slammed back onto the table, feet on the floor as you straddled him, clothed pussy grinding against his cock.

Kento groaned at the contact, and submitted fully when you pinned his wrists to the table, leaning forward to bite and suck his neck. Kento shivered with pleasure, feeling every mark that he would see in the mirror the next morning. Drunk on the novelty of being so used, Kento offered absolutely no resistance as your hand slipped to his groin, squeezing his clothed erection almost too hard through the thin material. Kento shuddered, coughing in surprise and bucking into your hand.

Your hand left his cock far too soon, and you moved up Kento's body, now pinning his wrists with your knees as you began to undo his tie. Kento watched you with absolute focus as you then began to undress yourself, clothes being flung off at speed, until you were bare breasted on top of him, nipples hard as bullets, and you absent-mindedly draped Kento's tie around your neck as you surveyed him like your favourite meal.

"Oh, fuck," Kento intoned, as you ripped open his shirt, hearing buttons skitter away across the table. Moving down to grind against him again, and replacing your knees on his wrists with your hands, you bit his nipple, leaving lovebites across his heaving chest. Kento's head swam with arousal and anticipation, hands eager to reach you, to give you your own way, to be inside you.

You were focused, predatory in your need, and closed your eyes as you kicked your trousers and underwear off, pussy now totally naked and glistening with your arousal, leaving a wet patch on Kento's groin as you humped his clothed cock fervently. Kento was completely pinned, moaning and gasping as his cock twitched with need. You felt like you were on fire, your clit throbbing as you felt your first orgasm approaching, almost there but not close enough, body and mind still feeling too empty to climax. Your torso leaned closer to Kento's as you tried to increase the pressure and he quickly freed his arms from under yours.

Sliding one hand between your legs, he hurriedly pressed his two middle fingers upwards, deep into the heat and wetness of your pussy, his thumb quickly finding your clit and rubbing harsh circles on it. You cried out and bucked, riding his hand, and Kento nearly came from the feeling of your pussy clenching his fingers alone. You had reached down, both hands holding Kento's wrist, grasping his hand in place as your cunt fluttered around it, wet and needy, your cries becoming higher and louder, desperate to abate the burning arousal that had turned your skin electric.

Kento felt your desperation, watching you, near tears, trying to cum on his fingers. Reaching down, he swiftly unbuttoned his trousers and freed his leaking cock, pressing it up into you without warning, not even removing his fingers, and pinching your clit between his thumb and forefinger.

Your orgasm hit you in hot waves, tears streaming down your cheeks as you called Kento's name over and over, feeling stretched and overfull with his fingers and cock still inside you. Feeling next to no relief post-orgasm, you slammed your hips down on Kento's, chasing the fullness his hand and straining erection gave you.

Kento clenched his teeth as you rode him, refusing to cum until you'd had your fill of him, vision and heart full of you clad in nothing but his tie. One hand remaining between your legs, and the other providing aggressive attention to your breasts and nipples, Kento felt your sweat and cum drip down his balls, groin now soaked with the intoxicating smell of you. He continued rubbing circles on your clit and squeezed his fingers forward against your internal walls, feeling your cervix bump his fingertips, as you shook and shuddered your way through a second orgasm.

Kento removed his hands to grasp your hips, your wetness dropping along his hand. Lifting you up and ramming you back down onto his cock, you slumped forwards onto him, a ragdoll.

Determined to pleasure you until you could barely stand, Kento tilted your hips against his until his cock pumped in and out of you at the perfect angle, his eyes fixed on where his fingers sank into the plush fat of your arse, jiggling as he slammed you down onto him. He hissed as your nails dug crescents into his shoulders, and you pleaded against his chest-- "please please please cum inside me, don't stop, don't stop" -- while his hips bucked you upwards, feet cramping as his toes pressed hard onto the floor, lights in his eyes as he felt his balls and abdomen clench, his approaching orgasm about to overwhelm his stamina. He felt your teeth and hot little pants against his chest.

Your hips couldn't keep up with his pace, hearing his moans rumble through his chest with every thrust, until you felt his cock jump and spurt hot seed inside you, cervix wet and belly warm and full. You lay on top of him, shuddering, feeling the heat in your body gradually dissipate. Kento stroked your hair, strong arms holding you to him, planting soft kisses on top of your head.

"Better?" he inquired, toying with the tie around your neck. You blushed, bashful after your performance, nodding and humming against his neck. "Much," you reassured him. He tapped your bum playfully, "You go shower and get cleaned up. I'll tidy up out here."

You climbed off him with a sigh, feeling his cum drip down your thighs as he slipped out of you, and you padded away to the bathroom.

In a few minutes, sated, sleepy, and feeling the hot water tumble over you, you were struck with a thought. Opening the shower door, you called out to Kento.

"I was just thinking, maybe you shouldn't touch those clothes? There's probably still loads of--" You paused, hearing Kento sneeze and swear in the next room.

A few tense moments passed, the time coiling up in your tummy like snakes, and the bathroom door creaked open slowly. Kento filled the doorway, shoulders tense as he stared you down like you were prey, slowly stroking his rapidly hardening cock.

"Oh shit," you breathed, naked and helpless under the hot water as he approached you, eyes burning with intent.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

REQUEST #1 COMPLETE!

And just think, Kento never even took off his slippers. Get you a man who can rail you like that with his house slippers on.

[augustinewrites]

synopsis: wriothesley always knows exactly what you need.

building a home in fontaine’s countryside was the best decision that you and wriothesley had made. the privacy was your main reason for moving out here, where your home is hidden away from eyes that pry, tucked safely underneath the linden trees. 

of course, there are a lot of things about your house that you love. the ivy that wraps around its walls, the acres of land for gardening and raising animals, or just to sit within and admire. you love the warmth of the fireplace on cool nights and the south-facing windows that let golden sunlight fill the room. you love this home because you built it together (with the help of your friends). 

but your absolute favourite piece in your home has to be the clawfoot bathtub. deep enough to nearly reach your shoulders, long enough to stretch your legs across. sinking into a bath in this gorgeous tub was the perfect way to end a long week.

you’re preparing a bath now, trussing it up with bath salts, essential oils, some bubbles. candles for ambiance. the setting sun was still bright enough to bounce soft light around the room, but you liked the warm glow candles provided. 

the only thing left now was to strip out of your work clothes. you toss them in the basket, rolling your eyes as you pick up a stray sock that seemed to just miss the basket last night. 

“unbelievable,” you mutter with a shake of your head as you grab the stem of your wine glass, cradling it into your chest as you climb into the tub and slowly lower yourself into the warm water. the second you lean back against the ceramic you instantly begins to relax. the tensions from the work week are already beginning to drift away in a heavenly haze of lavender scented steam and bubbles. it’s just you, your wine, and a quiet evening.

the sound of the front door being thrown open jolts you out of your daze. you nearly spill your wine when you sit upright, body alert at the thought of an intruder. 

your husband calls your name. 

“bathroom!” you call back, releasing a relieved sigh as you sink back into the water. you hear his heavy footsteps quickly make their way across the cottage. he’s home early today. 

wriothesley appears in the doorway, lopsided smile on his face as he already begins loosening his tie, stepping into the bathroom. “don’t you look relaxed.”

you simply hum in response, smiling up at him. at least until he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it in the general direction of the basket. 

“wrio,” you pout as his trousers suffer the same fate. “your stuff goes in the basket. not in the area around it.” 

“they’ll get there eventually,” he shrugs, gesturing for you to scoot up. “don’t want the water to get cold.”

so much for a quiet evening.

“you know, the purpose of the bigger bath was so that we wouldn’t be squished together like this,” you mutter as he slides into the water behind you, tucking himself snugly against your back and settling his chin in the crook of your neck

“maybe i just like being pressed up against you,” he says, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. “i do like having a bigger bath for our…activities though.”

you roll your eyes, and wriothesley makes up for his lewd insinuations when his hands start working at the knots in your shoulders. “wanna tell me what you’re doing home so early? i usually have to tear you away from your desk for the weekend.”

“promise you won’t freak out?” he sighs, digging his fingers into a particularly large knot at the base of your neck. it’s a trap and you know this, but it just feels so good. 

“wriothesley–” you start.

his fingers move under your chin, tilting your head toward him so you’re eye to eye. “i may have left clorinde in charge so i could take a few days off.” before you can get a word out, he swallows your argument with a kiss.

“wait,” you sputter. “how many days did you take off?”

“three days starting tomorrow,” he answers quickly, leaning in for another kiss. you place a soap-covered hand on his mouth and push his face away, ignoring his confused noises. 

“you can’t take that many days off, we have the finance meeting with neuvillette on monday,” you remind him, scooting to the opposite end of the tub to avoid any more distracting touches. “i can’t go by myself–”

“ah,” he interrupts, rubbing the back of his neck. “i may have signed off on a few days off for you too.”

“what?!” you yell, but it’s more like a shriek. “don’t you remember what happened last time you left clorinde in charge? the infirmary–” 

“i told her she can’t hit them this time!”

you huff, bubbles floating through the air as you cross your arms over your chest. you’re surprised he’d take so much time off before an important meeting. 

“come on,” he urges, that sneaky smile you hate to love still playing on his lips as he leans forward in the water. you feel his hand grip your ankle, barely lifting your leg above the water, thumbs rubbing firm circles into the pad of your foot. “i’m not trying to get out of anything. i just want to spend some more time with you.”

you have to admit, he looks absolutely irresistible right now. The way the warm sunset bounced off the rivulets of water dripping down the planes of his chest painted a very pretty picture for you to look at as he massaged your tired muscles. 

and he’s right. the two of you have been busy lately, sneaking quick kisses when you pass him in the hall or hiding away for a moment before one of you is called for. 

his skilled fingers work their way up your calf, soothing the muscles you used to walk around the infirmary. You lean your head back, letting your eyes slip closed as he starts describing your weekend off in a low voice that makes heat creep up to your cheeks. 

“it’ll just be me and you all weekend. We’ll lay in bed all morning, then i’ll make you a special brunch–” you crack one eye open to send him a wary look. “okay, you got me. i’ll order us a special brunch. then we’ll have a picnic out in the yard, maybe do some fishing at the dock…”

okay, you’re sold. a restful weekend with your love sounds perfect. 

“well, as long as you’re prepared for the– ah,” you gasp, shuddering as his fingers travel up past your knee. “wriothesley, what are you–” 

“shh, just giving you another preview of what you’re in for this weekend,” he laughs, fingers grazing your inner thigh. “let me help you relax, love.”

[dollfacefantasy]

hi! i love your writing so much! i was wondering if you could write something with leon and a clingy reader? she just likes being held by him, and one day a make out session gets out of hand while he’s holding her so he just fucks her while standing up, not letting her get down. i don’t know if this makes sense but the thought won’t leave my head. hope you’re having a good day/night! <3

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: you're such a needy little thing. leon can't get enough of you, and when he finds out you like being held, he has to take advantage of that.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral sex (m receiving), standing sex, daddy kink

word count: 3.9k

a/n: thank you so much for the request! i FELT this one cause i also have a thing about being held hehe. i hope it's what you were looking for :) reblogs and comments are really appreciated <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi

It only took Leon a couple weeks of dating to figure out that his girlfriend was exceptionally needy. He could tell you tried to suppress it to the best of your ability, control your yearning for physical contact, but it was still there. Honestly, it was obvious from the way you looked at him alone. Glossy, pleading eyes just calling out to him for some love.

At first, he was wary of this trait. He wasn’t good with affection normally. Didn’t like talking about his feelings. That stuff was just too much. He’s a busy guy already. He didn’t need extra worries in the form of a sweet thing like you rubbing your cheek against his neck, snaking your arms beneath his shirt, softly pleading “Leon, I wanna cuddle.”

But his problem was that he always gave into that stuff. Words like those hitting his ears, your pouty lips begging for his kisses, and grabby hands roaming around his body always got you what you wanted. He’d plant a smooch on your temple or forehead, grunt a quiet “c’mere then baby,” and pull you on top of him.

Time passed, and you grew on him like ivy climbing a stone wall. Your clingy nature took root somewhere inside him and drove him wild. It was addictive, feeling so needed. For the first time in his life, he felt like someone’s absolute first choice. It was nice living out his days with the subconscious idea that he was your favorite person. He could get a bit cocky about it sometimes but more than anything it made him all sappy. He couldn’t help it. He tried keeping up the cool, slick persona around you for a little while because impressing you was so important to him. But the way you looked at him made him feel like Superman. Your precious face tilted upwards to gaze at him like he was the only man you’d ever laid eyes on. It just made him wanna scoop you up and take off, soar far up into the clouds where it would just be the two of you.

So he ended up feeding into this kind of behavior one thousand percent, enabling you with no reservations. If you were sitting together, you were on his lap. Standing near each other? His arm was around you, keeping you tucked to his chest. The two of you would be lying in bed and simple cuddling just didn’t cut it anymore. No, instead, he’d be rubbing your back, nuzzling and kissing your neck, massaging your scalp. And the pet names were constant. Your actual name was only reserved for serious or special occasions. In ordinary conversations, it was always “my baby” with the intermittent “precious girl” or “princess�� mixed in. 

Because, from his perspective, why wouldn’t he? You both deserved this. You craved the physical affection you’d never gotten enough of while he yearned for a sweet little thing to dote on and love between the brutal DSO missions that plagued most of his time. He didn’t give a fuck if someone wanted to say it was codependent or that he was whipped. You were his baby, and if sweet tender affection was what revved your engine, what kind of man would he be to deprive you of it?

Maybe he was whipped. He wouldn’t shy away from that label. He loved you undoubtedly. His heart ached to see you smiling and laughing. Each individual cell in his body cried out to be pressed against you. But in the same breath, he’d be a liar if he said that sex played no part in his urges to coddle you.

He’d never seen a girl get as cock drunk as you. He’d warm you up with his cooing and caresses, and then all he had to do was slide a few inches in you, and you were gone. Nothing had ever gotten him so hard. It’s like your brain shut off as soon as your sweet little pussy was filled up. Really, you went the whole nine yards; whining, babbling, drooling. Your gorgeous lashes would flutter as your eyes went hazy, and you always wanted to hold his hand. Well, more specifically, you wanted him to offer his hand to you. He’d simply murmur “Aw, is it too much, princess? Here, hold daddy’s hand. That’s my girl,” and you were already cumming.

Cause that was the other part of this whole thing. Shortly after he caught on to your intense need for physical affection, he discovered your penchant for the infamous d word. The first time you’d said it, he had you pinned down to the mattress, face shoved against your pillow, hips slightly elevated while he stuffed you full of cock. You just cried it out in the same way you’d yell for God or whine “fuck.” And he rolled with it. One little word wasn’t gonna get in the way of what he’d found with you.

Beyond calling him daddy, Leon tried to take note of all the things that got you going. Sure, you were fond of physical expressions of love, and you probably wouldn’t turn down an offer from him ever. But that didn’t mean you didn’t have favorites when it came to this stuff. Leon took pride in remembering what you liked. Over the months of your relationship, he made a point to remember the specific motion you liked him to do when he rubbed your back. He burned into his mind that you liked to kiss in a way that would definitely make those over-the-top smooching noises found in network dramas. What could he say? He just wanted to do everything right for you.

Possibly his favorite thing that he discovered about you though was your love for being held. Love probably wasn’t even a strong enough word. Your affinity? Proclivity? Plain white hot need? Who fucking knows. All he knew was that you had a major thing for being wrapped up in his arms with your head on his shoulder.

The first hint he’d got at this part of you came by pure accident. He’d just arrived home from a mission, a long and taxing one at that. He’d missed you like crazy, felt as needy as you did on a daily basis, and you were practically vibrating with a longing for his touch. So when you came bounding down the hallway to meet him at the front door, he’d grabbed you by the waist, picked you up and spun you around like in an old cartoon when the prince and princess finally get their happily ever after.

Coming out of the short twirl, he’d brought you to his chest and held your body a little ways above the ground. He cradled your head to your shoulder and kept his grip tight to support you. And it wasn’t like you melted or had little hearts gleaming in your eyes, but something in your demeanor shifted.

“There’s my baby,” he muttered while smacking kisses on the side of your head.

You replied with how much you missed him, more than anything in the whole world. He laughed his deep, rumbling laugh and brought you over to the couch. You were all over him even more than normal which was really saying something. You couldn’t stop pecking his face or pushing up against him. Next thing he knew, you were tugging at his belt and taking his dick down your throat.

“Fuck, precious. don’t gotta choke yourself. It’s not goin’ anywhere,'' he hummed while tilting his head back against the couch. You weren’t normally so forward. You were always needy, but typically, you waited for him to initiate. It was much more your style to drop hints that you were in the mood and wait for him to pick up on your signals, but this time you just went for it.

He stroked the back of your head while you bobbed your head, taking him deeper each time. Groans fell from his lips, and his hips jolted in small twitches. Your saliva seeped out over your soft lips and dribbled down to his balls. You had never lacked enthusiasm before, but now you were taking him like his cock was the best treat you’d ever had.

He could barely stand the sight of you in that moment. Cute eyes drooping while your cheeks hollowed. Once he heard the muted sound of you gagging, he was done for. Shot his load deep in your throat in what would have been an embarrassingly short amount of time if you were anyone else. But you swallowed it all without any complaints and then crawled into his lap to cuddle some more. As you curled up to his chest, he knew something he did struck a chord with you to get you so eager.

So naturally, he tried picking you up again a couple days later. He had to know if that was a fluke or if it really was a thing. This time it was much more intentional, but he still played it off as a teasing gesture. He scooped you up from behind while you were fidgeting with something in the kitchen, expecting a whiny chorus of “Leon!” and “Stop, put me down!” But you didn’t say either. You let out a soft squeak and a quiet “What are you doing?”

“Just giving you a hug, baby,” he teased and situated you in his embrace so your front was pressed to his.

Almost immediately, as if your skull was magnetized, your head fell to his shoulder. Your limbs tightened around him a little and you took a deep breath like you wanted to commit his scent to memory. You didn’t even complain about him pulling you away from whatever task had been occupying your attention.

“This isn’t a hug,” you’d said softly.

“Says who? Seems like a hug to me, got my arms around you,” he responded with a small kiss to your temple.

His hand rose to your head and cradled it against his shoulder as your legs locked around his waist. He stood there with you for a moment just taking in the embrace. It was as if he could feel you melt against his body.

“A hug is when we’re both standing,” you say quietly while slotting your face in the warm crook of his neck.

“Yeah? You look that up in the dictionary or something?” he mutters in return.

When he had a firm hold on you, he walked you through the living room, taking the long way up to the bedroom to give his little experiment some time to play out. You rested quietly in his grasp as he navigated past furniture. He ran his free hand up and down your back as he moved, his other one planted firmly on your thigh to support you.

After the two of you reached the bedroom, he set you down on the bed and climbed in after you. His fingers coasted across your cheek as he looked down into your eyes, studying you in a way. He was still curious about what was going through your head. Again, him holding you like that had led to some of the best sex the two of you’d had, but there was something deeper there too. This wasn’t just a cheat code to get you to drop your panties. There was an emotional part of this too. He could tell.

“So you like when I pick you up, hm?” he’d asked.

You looked up at him from your spot against his chest, glowing a bit as you came down from the high. “I guess,” you answered with a tiny shrug.

He’d chuckled at your attempt to be casual and just dropped the subject matter. Your reasons were probably sensitive to you. Located in a deep, private cavern of your heart that was too guarded for you to let even him in yet. And that was ok with him. For now, he’d just chalk it up to some desire on an instinctual level. It was just something that made you tick, and it became something he did for you from time to time when you needed that extra level of care.

This evening, the two of you had been watching some movie. To be honest, Leon didn’t even remember what it was called at this point because he didn’t really wanna watch it in the first place. He was much more interested in you. You had just started it up as he arrived home from running some errands though, so he didn’t want to be rude and ask you to shut it off just because he was horny. Instead, he flopped down next to you on the couch. 

A small laugh bubbles from your lips as he pulls you to him and kisses down the side of your face, murmuring for you to explain what’s going on in the thing you were watching. You ramble on about the story, telling him that it’s the end of the world and these guys are trapped in this house, and that one is friends with that one but hates the other one, and blah blah blah. He loved you to death, but he just couldn’t care less about that right now. He hums along with a stream alternating between  “mhm” and “oh yeah.”

Your laughter increases as his kisses become more distracting. He nips at the skin of your throat and litters your soft skin with love bites. His tongue laves at your neck as his nose coasts over your flesh. After a while, your own interest in the movie begins to dwindle. You turn your head and plant some smooches on his face, enticing him to tilt his head upwards. The two of you meet in the middle, connecting your lips.

Mouths move in sync, tongues brush each other, and soon enough, your seat’s been abandoned in favor of your true favorite spot. You’re parked on his lap, the lush flesh of your ass flush against his semi-hard bulge. His hand slithers up your back underneath your shirt to rub up and down your spine while pulling you closer. Your breathing gets heavier, and you’re practically panting when you two finally pull away for a break. Your lips are wet with spit and a little puffy from making out. He drags his thumb over your bottom one as he smirks at your glazed eyes.

“Think you’d be ok with finishing this later?” he asks.

To his pleasure, you’re quick to accept the offer with a nod. “Seen it before anyways,” you admit and lean back in for more kisses.

He chuckles into your mouth and boosts you up without even turning the tv off. He’s stumbling to the bedroom, and you’re latched onto him like a little spidermonkey or something. He knew well by now that being carried took your brain to that sweet spot of utter submission, but today you were on something else entirely. You were getting whiny between kisses. He was having to support you extra because your hands were trying to slide in between the two of you and get at his pants. He assumed it was cause he got you riled up before picking you up, but he didn’t lament about it too much. He wasn’t thinking with his head right now.

All your squirming around nearly made him trip and topple the both of you to the ground. He grunts and shifts you around, trying to get you to settle down at least till you reach the bedroom. You wouldn’t let up though, continuing on with your impatient hip rocking and greedy fingers. He’s sure he’s about to fall over and one of you is moments away from serious injury, so he totters a few steps over and secures you against the wall.

“Jesus, you’d think I’d just got back from a war or something,” he breathes.

You laugh, but keep up your neediness. “Just want you so bad. Missed my daddy all day,” you murmur.

“Yeah? I know it’s hard being away from me. Your little head’s just not cut out for all that thinking is it?” he coos condescendingly, “This is how you're meant to be, just attached to daddy, letting him take care of everything while you tag along.”

“Mhm,” you nod and kiss him again. He can feel you smiling against his lips.

“Yeah, so how bout you do me a favor then and stop wriggling around so much. You wanna get dropped on your head so thinking isn’t even an option anymore?” he teases.

“No. I just…” you whimper defensively. A smile spreads across your face as you hide your face at the base of his neck. “I just want you… really bad.”

That was a tone Leon knew well by now. That was the tone of the guessing game. It was the voice you used when you wanted something but were too shy to just ask for it. So Leon had to decipher your signals and figure out what that thing was. Luckily, this time around it was pretty simple.

“Really bad? Like pinned down in the middle of the hallway while I’m stuffing you full of cum bad?” he asks.

“Sorta…” you say.

With an amused shake of his head, he thinks a little more. The stuffed full of cum thing was a given. So what was off? He was thinking through this as if searching for a missing puzzle piece. He runs through different scenarios before it clicks. He laughs a little. It was kind of obvious once he had it.

“Oh, of course not. There’s no way you’d choose to be out of my arms. What was I thinking?” he says, exaggerating his cadence, “So you want it standing?”

You nod, and with the right answer, that little smile feels so much sweeter. He leans harder into you, keeping you by pressing you between him and the wall. Giving you a few messy kisses, he finally undoes his pants and pushes them down to his mid-thigh. He was fully hard now. You could feel it as he rolled his hips against your center.

“Lucky you’re wearing a skirt, nice and easy for me,” he hums.

He bunches up the fabric around your waist before dragging his fingers over your panties, feeling how they were damp. He smirks against your lips while applying more pressure, seeking out your swollen clit.

“Already so wet, baby,” he chides, “Is this how you get while I’m not with you? Can’t think of anything but daddy cause your pretty pussy’s just crying for some more attention.”

“Yeah, need you to make the ache go away,” you say in a breathy whimper.

“I know you do,” he coos.

It’s a bit difficult in this position, but Leon manages to remove the last barriers of cloth separating the two of you. He lines up his dick with your entrance and slides home. Now it’s his head that falls on your shoulder as he groans. His stance didn’t really allow him to ease in. He was balls deep in the first stroke. You let out a long satisfied moan.

Taking a moment to readjust, he gets his elbows hooked under the bends of your knees. You’re basically bent in half, his cock to your cervix. This angle felt even deeper too. Your walls pulse around him as you work to accommodate the length.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Every part of you clings to me,” he grunts before taking a step away from the wall.

Losing the stability behind your back had you rocking and shifting more, causing his tip to nudge against all those sweet spots. Your thighs quiver as Leon gets into a rhythm and figures out how to bounce you on his cock like his. The sound of your skin meeting floats down the hallway. You whine and whimper, your eyes roll back as your head tilts the same direction.

He could tell you were loving it. Your favorite place to be combined with your favorite feeling in the entire world. There was nothing his sweet girl loved more than being stuffed full of cock and held by him.

“Feeling good, princess? Is daddy fucking you just how you wanted?” he asks.

“Mhm, mhm, mhm,” you whimper and nod dumbly.

“Good,” he says. He focuses on working himself in and out of you. His mind is locked on the sensation of your slick coating his shaft and collecting at the base, dripping down to his balls. But more words fill his mind and rush to his mouth to be let out. “This is why you’re so needy, right baby? You just need some cock in you or you get so frustrated. Can’t even think straight without your fill, can you?”

You shake your head wildly. Your legs tense over his arms. His hands dig into your back to keep you supported. You see his biceps flexing beneath his sleeves as he uses his strength to hold you up. He rocks you on his cock, back and forth, sliding himself in and out. You’re gasping and trembling more noticeably now. He knows you’re approaching the peak.

“Doing so good for me, precious,” he murmurs, “Keep squeezing me like that so I can fill you up just how you need.”

Your noises become more desperate. It feels as though you get even tighter. Leon slams into you deeper than you could remember. But then again, in this state, your memory wasn’t worth much. Pumping in and out, he sees your eyes squeeze show, your mouth widening into that cute familiar shape it always made when you came.

“Go ahead, baby. Make a mess for daddy,” he groans.

You do as he says, following your orders. You seize up and moan, long and loud. He tightens his grip and takes a step closer to the wall to ensure your high isn’t cut by falling. His hips don’t stop though. He feels that tensing in his belly. Gritting his teeth, he pounds you over and over until he has to stumble back to the wall.

You hit the surface with a thud, but he’s a little too busy to notice. He growls and whimpers into your neck, hips working at a more strained pace as he tries to grab that brief euphoria. A few thrusts later and release is washing over him. He fucks you full, going deep and staying true to his word about filling you up. He pumps every last drop in.

You slowly slide down in his arms till he lets go of your legs and your feet can touch the ground again. Looking up at him as he comes down, you watch his features melt into the relaxation of post-release. You lean up and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. His eyes open and look down at you. A lazy smile spreads on his face and moves in to return the gesture.

“So how’d I do?” he asks with that smug look you loved so much.

“Perfect like always,” you answer, genuine in contrast to his teasing. You step forward on wobbly legs, grabbing his hand to finish your trip to the bedroom together. He leans down and smacks a kiss on your neck.

“Clearly not perfect enough if you’re walking on your own now,” he purrs in your ear.

You smile and look down. “There’s still time to fix that,” you offer.

“Of course there is,” he agrees with a light swat to your ass. He pecks your lips once more before following you through the entryway to your shared room.

[msbigredmachine]

The Boy Next Door: Chapter Two

MASTERLIST✨ harmshake's masterlist ✨ msbigredmachine's masterlist

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, language, angst, violence

Banner made by me. Credit to the owners of the other pics and gifs.

“Uhhnnn, fuck...baby I’m comin’...”

Angelo’s deep, rough voice broke as he yanked a little too hard on Ivy’s hair, causing her to wince from the sharp pain. He thrust inside her just as hard a few more times before his body seized up, his pelvis mashed against her backside to make her feel him pulsing inside her as he came. Not for the first time, she was thankful condoms were a thing and she always insisted that he had one on him before he touched her; there was no doubt he would get her pregnant the next chance he got with the aim of tethering himself even deeper into her life. It was apparent in the desperation with which his admittedly above-average dick dug all up in her pussy every time they got together. On the bright side, his efforts got the job done…Well, that, along with the frantic circling of her fingers around her clit that never failed to drag her to a long-awaited nut that currently had her moaning noisily into her bamboo sheets. Thank goodness her daughter was a long way down the hallway, fast asleep in her four-poster bed, oblivious to the late night goings-on of her dysfunctional parents.

She hissed with relief when Angelo finally released his vice grip, flopping onto his back, his sweat-slick chest heaving up and down. The same old routine followed, with him lazily and unwisely reaching out for a cuddle, prompting her standard rebuff of rolling away from him. She waited patiently for the gradual shift in his breathing, from heavy to relaxed, signaling that he was out like a light. Glancing over to confirm, she rolled her eyes with a huff. This dude left the condom on. Again. Even in his sleep, he was making her clean up after him. Exhaling heavily, she reached over to carefully slide the thin latex off his dick and tie it up in a knot, climbing out of the bed to dump it in the trash can nearby. 

The lights illuminating the paved streets outside her home seeped through her bedroom windows, shedding more light than was necessary considering it was deep into the night. She padded over to the window to draw down the roller blinds, making a mental reminder to herself to keep them closed more often now that the house across was occupied. Her fingers wavered when she noticed that the lights of his bedroom were still on. It piqued her curiosity as to what would be keeping him awake at this late hour. Work, perhaps?

And then, almost on cue, the hulking figure of her new neighbor came into view, and her breath caught.

Roman stepped out of what was probably his bathroom, his towel hanging dangerously low around his waist. His hair was down, long, silky and clearly wet, the droplets of water glistening against his bare chest. He was walking around the room, seemingly acquainting himself with the new space. Ivy was on the money with the athletic physique, unable to take her eyes off his bulging muscles, the ridges of his abs, and the intricate tribal tattoos adorning his right arm, pec and half of his back that only embellished the majesty and beauty of this stranger. Standing there like the voyeur she’d become, she allowed her mind to wander, to wonder what those taut, rippling muscles would feel like pressed against her nakedness, his long hair fanning her face as his big body pinned her down…his voice, deep and rough and needy in her ear, talking her through her pleasure…

So entranced was she in her fantasy that she didn’t realize he had pivoted in her direction, fully facing the window, until it was almost too late. Her eyes widened as his hands slid south, unraveling the towel from his waist…

Gasping in alarm, she quickly turned away, fumbling with the blinds to snatch them shut. She leaned against the wall, her cheeks blazing, hand on her hammering heart as it dawned on her that she’d almost seen him naked.

And yet, as scandalized as she was, a small part of her wished she did. 

Damn.

Willing away the disappointment and the stirring in her loins, she dragged herself back to bed, hoping she would get some sleep.

Morning arrived too quickly for her liking, and she was up too early considering it was her day off, with her next shift not until tomorrow. Untangling herself carefully from Angelo’s clingy grasp, she rolled onto her side and checked the time on her phone charging on her nightstand. Seven a.m. was a decent hour to take Duchess out for a morning walk and be back home in time for Zaia to be out of bed so they could make red velvet pancakes together, assuming she wouldn’t be glued to her father’s side like she liked to be. 

Climbing out of bed carefully so as not to wake Angelo and kick off her day on a sour note, she threw on a forest-green sports bra and matching leggings from Actively Black, along with a pair of Nike sneakers, and wrapped up her hair in a bun on top of her head. Grabbing her phone and headphones, she stopped by Zaia’s room to check on her. As expected, her baby was sound asleep, buried beneath her Disney Princesses duvet. Ivy would have woken her up to join her but she wanted her to rest; she’d worked so hard all week in school and with her chores and therefore earned this Saturday morning lie-in. 

Laying by Zaia’s bedside, Duchess’ head snapped up when the door opened. She bolted across the room towards Ivy, her tail wagging excitedly, bouncing on her hind legs and pawing at her mama’s shins.

"Hi, girl! You awake? You’re a good girl, yes, you are!" Ivy cooed softly, shutting the bedroom door quietly before lifting Duchess in her arms to be attacked with excited licks and doggy breath. "Come on, let’s go for a walk." Grabbing her leash, harness and a water bottle, she headed downstairs and out the door. 

The route was a simple one, the expanse of tarred road sandwiched between rows of houses of various sizes and styles leading down a winding path to the public park. The weather was perfect, the fresh air sweeping over Ivy's face with a calming, peaceful feeling that was a stark contrast from the controlled chaos of her life. She let Duchess lead the way, the little dog stopping every now and then to sniff a tree or bark at an innocent squirrel. Another sharp turn round the bend brought them to the entrance of the dog park. Lowering her headphones around her neck, Ivy settled down on a nearby bench, watching Duchess run towards the puppy playground. It was relatively empty with just two other owners and their equally small dogs, but she was sure she’d leave once it became crowded. To pass the time, she scrolled through her unread emails, responding to the urgent ones while keeping a watchful eye on Duchess. A flash of movement to her left caught her attention, and looking up, her heart raced in her chest.

Slowing down to a stop on the pedestrian path, dusting his knees off, was Roman. Even with a beanie and a hoodie covering his head, there was no mistaking his striking features; the prominent cheekbones, the sharp jawline framed by his thick beard. His long-sleeved Nike shirt clung to his upper body, straining the fabric’s futile attempt to contain the burgeoning muscles underneath. Ivy found herself taking a swig of her water due to the heat that had nothing to do with the morning sun.

She shouldn’t have disturbed him. She should have let him go about his day - but her mouth and hand moved faster than her brain, waving from her seat, “Hey Roman!” She watched him glance around in search of her voice, a hint of apprehension on his handsome face before his eyes landed on her. His tight frown bloomed into a bright smile that sparked a sensation similar to the one last night when she was ‘spying’ on him. The way he walked exuded confidence and power, commanding the space around him, as she noticed, to her chagrin, other women doing double takes as he passed by them. 

"Wassup, neighbor? This seat taken?" he asked.

"Not at all,” she answered, a little too eagerly as he settled down on the opposite side of her bench, keeping a respectable gap between them which allowed her to gawk…respectfully. His dri-fit shorts accentuated the thickness of his thigh muscles that flexed when he shifted, inadvertently drawing her eyes there. She’d seen a lot of him last night and internally she craved more, craved to see exactly what lay underneath. The sunlight enriched his caramel skin, the light sheen of sweat giving him a vibrant glow. Ivy swallowed hard, willing herself to remain composed. “How’s your morning going?” she asked.

“Great, now that I’m talkin’ to you,” Roman smiled at her, leaning back in his seat to admire her in her sports bra and high-waist tights, her afro curls piled high on top of her head. “You look really nice.”

The blush threatened to burn her cheeks as she tugged shyly at her top. “Thanks. It’s just sportswear though.”

“Maybe, but that don’t change what I said,” he insisted, his deep brown eyes deliberately scanning her body. A shiver swept up her spine at the growing intensity as he looked at her. Flustered, she played it off by looking around for Duchess who happened to be just a foot away, racing two other dogs around the canine condo.

“I see you came alone,” Roman observed, “Your little girl alright?”

“She’s good. Sleeping in. She’s been a busy bee all week so she’s earned the rest. We’re gonna make pancakes when I get back.”

“Hmm, sounds delicious. I heard you call her Zaia? Am I right?”

“Correct. It means ‘precious’ in Arabic.” A fond smile fell over her features at the thought of her bright, beautiful little six-year old angel.

Roman nodded, digesting the information. “It's a great name. Pretty, just like her mama’s.” 

Ivy looked away, her grin now bashful. “Here you go again with the compliments.”

“We still on that, huh? You do owe me a couple yourself,” Roman replied with a cute smirk that made her warm all over. “I’m still working on it, tryna find the right time,” she joked.

“Any time is a good time for a compliment.” His smile faltered, his cheery tone hardening slightly, “Unless you’re worried about the boyfriend. He still bein’ a headache?” 

Ivy scoffed. She’d almost forgotten about him. Almost. “He's not my boyfriend. We share a child, that’s it.”

“Oh? He made it pretty clear when he was all over you and then tried to jump me.”

She almost laughed at that. One look at Roman quickly erased any scenario where he could be jumped. “About that…I’m really sorry…he can be a little…assertive sometimes,” she began.

But Roman shook his head, his nose turned up. “Don’t apologize for him. He might be your kid’s father but you’re not responsible for his foolishness.”

Most times he didn’t give her a choice in the matter, forced to deal with the mess afterwards. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” she sighed.

“That’s my point. There shouldn’t be a next time,” he replied, staring into her eyes, the sincerity radiating from them unnerving her a little. Her issues with Angelo was the last thing she wanted to talk about, especially with a relative stranger. Thankfully she was given a way out as the playground started to fill up with more people. “Well, I’ve been out long enough. It’s time I headed home,” she announced, getting to her feet. “Duchess! Come here, girl!”

"Cute little puppy. How long have you had her for?" Roman enquired, watching her hook the leash and harness around the puppy.

"About three months. She was Zaia’s birthday present from my friend Gemini. She’ll be eight months old next week. She and Zaia keep me fit with their combined energy," Ivy explained with a laugh, going quiet for a moment. “What happened to your hand, by the way?” She nodded at the white crepe bandage wrapped around his left hand that was peeking through his sleeve. 

Glancing down, he cleared his throat and shifted his hand out of view, seemingly embarrassed by his injury. “Oh. Knife wound. I was meal prepping and accidentally sliced my palm. A little bit of bleeding but nothing I can’t handle.”

“Wow, that must have hurt. I can take a look at it if you want, make sure it’s-”

Roman smiled and waved away her concern. “I know that’s your nurse instincts poppin’ out, but I’m fine. Don’t worry your pretty little self. But who knows? Maybe somewhere down the road I might need you for…other things,” he finished with a sly wink.

The lowered bass of his voice had Ivy biting her lip at the blatant innuendo, not missing the way his eyes flickered to her mouth. She grinned sheepishly and shook her head, tugging gently on Duchess’ leash. “Alright then, I’ll leave you to your workout…”

“I’m done, actually, and I’m about to head home. I can drop you off too, if you'd like. I drove here,” Roman offered.

For a split second, she imagined Angelo’s reaction to her pulling up in another man’s car. But the visual was gone as quickly as it surfaced. It was none of his business. “Sure.” 

As they approached the parking lot, her eyes widened as he remotely unlocked the doors to a shiny, sleek black Maserati GranCabrio. “Is that yours? Oh, you ballin’, ballin’,” she remarked, noting the blush creep up his cheeks as he opened the passenger’s door for her. “I do alright,” he mumbled.

“Wow. What do you do? I don’t think I’ve asked.” 

“I’m a Senior Finance Manager at an accounting firm downtown,” he answered, starting the car and letting the top down. “But I also freelance for private individuals, angel investors, pro and college athletes. I mainly work remotely, so you’ll be seeing me at home often.”

Ivy settled in her seat, awed by the lush beige color of the interior, feeling slightly intimidated being inside such an expensive car. “Well, they’re treating you real well,” she said. 

“They’d better, I work my ass off for ‘em,” Roman chortled, backing out of the parking lot. 

Conversation flowed easily on the drive home. Ivy did her best to keep her eyes on the road, but she couldn’t resist taking the occasional peek at Roman while they chatted. She noticed he was doing the same, sprouting more butterflies in her belly. As they pulled up to their street, he killed the engine next to his sidewalk. A tentative silence fell between them that would probably have been suffocating if it weren’t for Duchess’ routine panting. Ivy dared another glance at the big man, the feeling in her stomach intensifying as those gorgeous eyes of his lingered on her again.

“Thanks for the ride, I appreciate it,” she whispered, gathering Duchess in her arms.

Roman smiled. “Not a problem. Tell Zaia I said hi.”

“I will.” Another long look, another grateful grin before she stepped out of the car and crossed the street towards her front door, fully aware that his gaze was still on her, fully aware that she liked his gaze on her. A lot.

However, a deep frown replaced her giddy smile when the door swung open, Angelo standing there, his face like thunder. The darkening of his light eyes as he glanced over her shoulder and the sound of the Maserati’s door slamming shut told her the two men had locked metaphorical horns, the tension pulsing from both sides.

“What the fuck! I know I ain’t just seen you come out of his car,” Angelo hissed.

“Wassup, man. Ivy, you good?” Roman called out behind her. Stoking the fire.

Quick to douse it before it raged, Ivy threw a smile his way. “I’m fine! Thanks again!” Not waiting for a reply, she ushered Angelo back into the house and set Duchess on her feet, the puppy immediately dashing away in search of Zaia. “If you must know, I ran into him at the park and he offered to bring me home,” she explained, entering the kitchen. “I had to apologize to him for that disrespectful crap you pulled yesterday. I get along with all my neighbors and you’re not about to fuck that up for me.”

“Get along, huh? Zaia coulda seen you. How you think that’s gonna look, her mama joyriding with some other dude, huh?” Angelo demanded, his eyes narrowed accusingly.

Incensed, Ivy spun around, glared at him. “Are you using my daughter to gaslight me, Angelo? Seriously?”

“Our daughter, Ivy! You out here lookin’ like a thot and for what? Is that the example you wanna set for our kid? Where’s your sense of self-respect?”

Clearly, the audacity of the man she called her daughter’s father knew no bounds. “Respect?! Like the respect you showed me when you cheated on me?” Ivy countered, crossing her arms, fire in her eyes. “When you only came crawling back because that bitch dumped your slow ass and left for California? When you refused to be in ‘your kid’s’ life until you had a DNA test done, despite your dumbass knowing you’re the only one I was with? Refresh my memory, Angelo!” 

Silence. Deafening. Tense. Truth.

Angelo shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he spoke, his tone low and exasperated. “Why you keep doin’ this shit, Ivy? How many times do I gotta apologize for that?”

“I don’t want your apology. I don’t need it,” she snapped. “You lost my trust a long time ago and nothing you say or do will ever change that. Period.” She trailed off, focusing on the clock on the wall like she’d learned to rein in her emotions. It was only eight o’clock and she had a headache already. Rinse and repeat. “Don’t you got some conference to be at?” she threw at him, eager for him to be out of her face.

Bristling at her harsh dismissal, Angelo sucked his teeth, snatching his belongings off the countertop. “Ol’ meathead ass gives you some attention and now you got a fucking attitude.” His sigh was heavy and dramatic as he finally, thankfully walked away. Her eyes closed with a sigh of her own, the familiar gnawing in her chest surfacing as she overheard her daughter’s sniffles from the living room pleading with her daddy not to go, him soothing her and promising that he would be back soon. Her heart broke for Zaia, but selfishly, she was glad he was out of her space, even going as far as to wish, yet again, that he could take it one step further and be out of her life, too.

A crime documentary come to life. 

The news reporter stood in the neck of the woods, under the shaded protection of a few giant sequoias and a couple of smaller deciduous trees, a short distance away from a clearing that was cordoned off with caution tape guarded by several uniformed cops. In the background, a body bag was being loaded onto a gurney. The face of the victim splashed across the screen made Ivy’s blood run cold.

She’d seen the young woman, Rhea, just three days ago at the hospital. They didn’t interact, but she was hard to forget with her pale skin, numerous tattoos and goth clothing that stood her out from all the other patients at the Gynecology ward. Never did Ivy imagine she’d be dead just days later. Murdered. The news said she had been reported missing yesterday and was found by a jogger, bound and gagged with her throat slit from ear to ear. The woods were close to the dog park, so to know that such a horrific crime was committed so nearby, while she was out there just this morning with Duchess, sent chills down her spine.

“I’m still in shock,” she confided in her best friend Gemini over FaceTime, adjusting her iPad on her kitchen island. “I remember seeing her in the hospital earlier this week. She was so young, barely in her twenties. Who could have done that to her?”

“That’s what everyone’s trying to figure out,” Gemini said, her expression grim as she lounged on her patio. “I spoke to Officer Gable. He says she was killed in her home then her body was dumped in the woods either last night or early this morning.” She dropped another bombshell. “And get this…this hasn’t been made public yet, but they also found a positive pregnancy test in her backpack.”

Ivy clapped a hand over her mouth, floored. That poor girl was pregnant?! “Oh my god.”  

“I know, it’s wild. They’re looking for her boyfriend, Dominik. Apparently he’s outta town but they’re ruling him as the prime suspect,” Gemini went on, “If you ask me, I think there might be a serial killer on the loose. She’s not the only one that’s turned up dead in the last few months in the surrounding counties.”

If it weren’t for the severity of the situation, Ivy would have rolled her eyes. “What? Gem, don’t start with all that again.”

“Girl, you haven’t been following this like I have. Similar cases happened in the last three months in Fairfield and Middlesex. A couple of twenty-something year old women. Throats slit, dumped in ditches and bushes. The M.O.’s are all the same.”

Casting a quick glance over at the living room where Zaia was dancing with Duchess to ‘The Veggie Dance’ by Gracie’s Corner, Ivy shifted to a quieter side of the kitchen to prevent her baby from overhearing this gruesome conversation. “Well, let’s not jump to conclusions when the police don’t even have all the facts. What does the group think about this?” she asked, referring to the local Neighborhood Watch of which Gemini was a member. In the three years she had lived here, they had only dealt with vandalism and break-ins. To her knowledge, nothing this violent had ever occurred in this harmless, almost sleepy little town, and it spooked Ivy that it happened so close to home.

“We’re having a meeting tomorrow to update everyone and address safety concerns we know will be brought up. Make sure no one’s panicking unnecessarily.” Gemini chuckled at the trepidation on her friend’s face. “Girl, relax. Zaia, Duchess and I will protect you.” There was a brief pause as she stood up from her lounge chair and walked around her backyard pool. “Want me to come over later? I haven’t seen my two babies in a while.”

Enticed by the thought of having company that wasn’t Angelo, Ivy happily replied, “Of course, babe, you never have to ask. How about dinner tonight?” 

“You know I could never say no to your cooking.” Gemini wrinkled her nose. “But if that bitch baby daddy of yours is still lurkin’ then I’ll pass.”

“Nope. He’s away for the weekend,” Ivy assured her.

“When will I hear he’s away for good?” Gemini prodded, her words drawing a sigh of defeat from Ivy. It said a lot that none of her friends got along with Angelo. If she had a dime for every time Gemini warned her to get rid of him, she’d be living in the Hamptons instead. But she understood that she was only looking out for her and she would always appreciate it and reciprocate accordingly.

Beautiful, wisecracking and often cynical, Gemini was a successful, high-powered corporate lawyer with a love for fashion trends and (Ivy called this an obsession) crime and mystery shows that fed into her crazy, oft-amusing conspiracy theories. Like Ivy, she often had it tough with relationships, swearing off men every couple of months. It didn’t help that suitors were usually intimidated by her financial status and her brash, blunt nature. But all of that also came with a heart of gold. Ivy would never forget her hospitality, being the first to welcome her and Zaia with open arms when she first arrived in town. Helping her secure the mortgage on her house. Taking Zaia to the local dog shelter on her birthday and pairing her little girl with the most loyal companion she would probably ever have. She was the life of the party everywhere she went, including Ivy’s household, as she sauntered through her doorstep later that evening with a big bottle of Pinot Noir and an even bigger hug for her favorite niece. The wine was very welcome, as Ivy was forced to abstain around Angelo who was a recovering alcoholic. 

Together, the women moved the food to the dining table, with little Zaia playing her role as the dutiful assistant to her mama and aunt and filling up Duchess’ food and water bowls. As they settled down to eat, a knock on the front door startled them, their heads whipping in its direction. Gemini exchanged a look with Ivy. “Expecting someone else?” 

“No…” With a heightened sense of caution, Ivy crept towards the door and opened it, surprised to see Roman standing behind it. “Hey,” she greeted, a hint of concern in her tone. “What’s up? Everything alright?”

“Hi…wow,” His greeting was distracted, rendered temporarily speechless as he took in her sweater minidress that clung to her generous curves. “Uh…sorry if this is a bad time, but I was wondering if I can borrow some sugar? I’m trying to bake cookies for my office party in the morning and I haven’t got time to run to the store.” Scratching the back of his head sheepishly, he continued, “I know it’s cliche as hell, but I thought I’d come over and ask since your cooking smells so delicious.” 

Corny request or not, it was way too charming to turn down. Not that she would. “Mr. Compliments does it again. Come on in.” She motioned for him to follow her inside and into the warm, homey atmosphere of her kitchen. His eyes glossed over the spread of food on the table, then fell upon the two other sets of eyes staring back at him, one innocent, the other suspicious. “I see I’ve interrupted dinner, sorry about that, ladies,” he said, a demure, friendly smile gracing his lips as he waved.

Gemini got to her feet, almost burning a hole through this stranger with her sharp gaze. “Ivy, who is this?” she demanded with an attitude, making Ivy shake her head behind Roman’s back. Her friend always had a hard time warming up to new people.

“Gem, this is Roman, my new neighbor. He moved across the street a couple of days ago. Roman, this is my friend Gemini,” she introduced them, watching Roman extend his hand, the other woman hesitating for a long beat before shaking it. “Hi, Gemini. Nice to meet you.”

Gemini gave him a tight smile. “Hi. So you’re the one who got that big ass house.”

Well, that went as well as it could have.

“Zaia, wanna say hello to Mr Roman?” Ivy encouraged her daughter. The little girl cocked her head to the side, and Roman noticed how much she resembled Ivy at that moment. “Hello, Mr Roman. You’re really tall,” she pointed out, her eyes filled with awe. 

“Thank you Zaia, I get that a lot,” he laughed, crouching down to pet Duchess who had bounded over happily, recognizing him from earlier this morning. Ivy rummaged through her walnut kitchen cabinets looking for the bag of sugar she had purchased a month or two ago. Locating it, she handed it to Roman along with a small-sized cookbook. “Here. You can use as much as you need. And I earmarked the page for the recipe for chocolate chip cookies, in case you need it.”

“You are so kind. I appreciate that,” said Roman, his deep brown eyes shifting downwards shyly. The subtle action did something to her, compelling her to utter next,

“Would you like to stay for dinner? We’re having Cajun chicken pasta and Caesar salad,” she spoke up, ignoring the look Gemini leveled at her. It was the way his eyes softened right away, clearly touched by her gesture, that let her know she did the right thing.

“I’d love to.” His smile lit up the room, warming Ivy’s heart. This was her house. She could invite anyone she wanted. Attraction aside, Roman seemed like a really sweet guy that just needed new friends in this new town.

In no time though, he and Zaia became fast friends, discussing everything from their favorite cartoons and hobbies to their favorite subjects at school, and the rather funnier topic of why the adults could have wine and she couldn’t. Even Gemini seemed to warm up to him over the course of dinner, also seduced by his charm and wit. Watching them all talking and laughing caused a funny sensation to stir within Ivy, but she banished any wayward thoughts before they had the chance to settle. 

Afterwards, Roman began to gather dishes and stand, prompting Ivy to rush over before he could move too far. “Er, no booboo. You’re a guest here.” She turned to her daughter. "Baby, why don't you take your fruit salads to the living room and turn on the TV for Mr Roman?” she suggested.

“Yes, ma’am! Come on, Mr Roman.” Zaia’s little fingers closed around his thick forearm, Roman briefly glancing back at her mother as he was all but dragged away, Ivy simply giving him a reassuring smile as they disappeared from the kitchen.

“You like him.” 

Never one to beat around the bush, was she? Gemini’s words shook Ivy inwardly as she fought to maintain a poker face. “Girl, we’ve only known each other for a couple of days.”

“And he likes you,” Gemini continued, easily rebuffing her lame excuses. “I saw the way y’all kept looking at each other, you giggling like a damn school girl at his jokes. You could cut the tension with a damn steak knife. I wonder how Angelo’s gonna feel about that.”

Ivy raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you care about Angelo’s feelings?” 

“Never. But I bet he’d combust into flames if he was here,” Gemini smiled evilly.

Sighing heavily, Ivy loaded the last plate in the dishwasher. “Do you know he got into it with Roman on the first day? A whole shouting match. Barely twenty-four hours since the new neighbor moved in and he’s already fighting the guy. This was just me kinda trying to make up for it.”

“What?! I’d love to see that fight. My money’s on the dude that looks like a linebacker.” The stretch of silence that followed was ominous, and Ivy could already forecast her next words. “I’ll admit. He seems…nice. Sexy as hell. Charming and all that shit. But I need you to be careful, hun. There's an energy about him that I can’t put my finger on.”

Unsure she was ready for this lecture, Ivy rubbed her temples. “Judgmental much? You only just met him.”

“I’m good at reading people. You know this.”

“And I’m just being a good neighbor. You know this.”

“I do. You can’t help yourself, my sweet, wonderful bestie,” Gemini playfully nudged her friend with her shoulder. “But don’t forget you have a young daughter to look out for. I don’t want either of you to get hurt by getting too close too fast.”

Taking in a calming breath, Ivy spoke again, slow and measured to keep the peace. “Gem. I love you and I appreciate you always. But I’ll be okay. I promise,” she answered, her eyes shining with resolve.

As the two women continued to gossip, Roman stood silently by the entrance of the kitchen, his expression unreadable as he listened to every word.

Another long, tough week segued to another weekend of needed rest which found Ivy relaxing in her newly purchased hanging daybed, watching her daughter and her puppy play together as 2000s R&B tunes wafted through the Bluetooth speakers stationed in her backyard. However, her watchful eye was a bit distracted today as it kept glancing over her picket fence for any sign of Roman, who seemed to have vanished without a trace in the past few days. His outdoor chairs remained unoccupied, no coffee mug on his side tables, the house as quiet and empty as it was before he moved in. The serial killer discourse with Gemini and the feedback from the Neighborhood Watch had her feeling slightly more agitated these days, and as absurd as it was, she found herself hoping that her new neighbor hadn’t suffered the same fate as Rhea…

There was no need to worry. Maybe he was caught up with work, or was away visiting friends or family. Either way, she found herself missing his looming yet comforting presence, missed seeing the crinkles around his eyes that accompanied his sunny smile, longed for the longing glances they’d shared far too many times to count now... 

Blowing out her cheeks, she leaned back and closed her eyes, hoping to clear her head. For someone who she just met, he was on the brain way too much. She hadn’t felt this way about anyone in a long time and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. At all.

“Hi Mr Roman!”

Zaia’s excited voice, as well as the deep one that followed her daughter’s greeting, startled her from her thoughts as her eyes flew back open, landing on his big frame as he stood at the fence that separated their homes. Ivy rose to her feet, trying to ignore the relief, excitement and nervousness bubbling inside her as she approached him slowly, their eyes locked. Other than the bags forming under his irises, he was still as handsome as ever, his cable-knit sweater and dark jeans giving off that polished, modelesque aesthetic she’d become accustomed to.

“Hey, pretty lady,” he said to her, the sound of his voice deep and soothing and sorely missed.

“Hey, stranger. Been a minute. Are you okay?” she asked, getting her answer from the way he dragged a big hand down his face with a loaded sigh. She noticed the bandage was gone. “How’s your hand?”

“Good as new.” Roman lifted his now bare hand and rotated it for emphasis. “As for my absence, just work stuff. Back-to-back late hours. It be like that sometimes. I hope you didn’t miss me too much.” He met her stare with a knowing smile, the same smile that made her swoon since the day they first met, and not the first time had her averting her gaze, tugging coyly at the hem of her retro Backstreet Boys t-shirt. 

“I never got to properly thank you for dinner, and for the cookie recipe,” he continued, “It was a big hit at the office, everyone loved it.”

Ivy beamed. “Aww, that’s so sweet. I’m glad to hear that.” 

“Man, you saved my ass, that’s for sure. You’ve been so wonderful to me, Ivy, and I was hoping I could repay it by taking you out to dinner sometime.” Gauging her raised eyebrows, he chuckled softly as he raised his hands in mock surrender. “Ay, I woulda stayed home and cooked somethin’, but my skills could never measure up to yours or my wife’s.”

Wife.

This was the first time he’d mentioned a spouse of any kind. There was no ring on his finger, so there was a story there, one she felt compelled to know more about.

“Your wife…Is she not here with you?” she asked, treading lightly on what she could already tell was a sensitive subject.

Roman was silent for a moment, then when he spoke again, his voice was a little more than a hoarse whisper. “Nah, she isn't. She, uh, passed away last year.”

That explained it. The haunted expression she perceived lurking behind the vibrance of his eyes. Carrying the burden of grief and heartbreak that she empathized with more than he would ever know. “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry,” she whispered. 

Clearing his throat, he managed a nod, returning the sincere look she gave him. “Thanks. It’s been…rough, to say the least. But I’m hangin’ in there. One day at a time, ya know?”

He looked so sad, so worn down by opening up about his loss, and it tugged at her heartstrings. Without thinking, she reached out to rub his arm, offering him comfort, solace. When his eyes shut at her touch, she feared she had toed a line, crossed it, even. Until he opened them again, the sadness wiped away by a searing heat she felt in her bones. Her heart raced as he shifted their hands to link their fingers together, sending a defibrillator’s worth of electricity through her curvy figure. Fuck. He was looking at her that way again. All intense and serious and sexy and all sorts of tempting. She didn’t want him to ever look away. 

There was no denying the mutual attraction that simmered between them. It was clear as day. But it was also clear that he was still grieving and was lonely and craved some semblance of comfort. Yet, she found herself wanting to give him that comfort. She wanted to get to know him. She wanted to jump over the fence and into his sturdy arms, wanted to kiss those soft-looking lips of his. To know what his hair felt like between her fingers…

How she missed it, she wasn’t sure. The roar of the engine of the Lexus pulling into the driveway, the owner of the vehicle storming through her house. She’d been so lost in Roman and in his aura and the intimate moment they were sharing that she hadn’t even heard Angelo barreling into her home like he always did until he was standing in front of them. Her deer-in-the-headlights countenance could not have helped her cause as Angelo looked from her to Roman and then back again, zoning in on their entwined hands, the bewilderment on his face giving way to blind wrath. 

“Motherfucker, I thought I told you to stay away from my girl!” Swiping Ivy aside with enough force to send her crashing against the fence, he shoved Roman hard in the chest, knocking him a few steps back. “Oh I see what this is! You wanna fuck my woman, huh?” 

“Angelo stop!” Ivy yelled as in the distance, Zaia began to cry. Grimacing through her pain, she tugged him by the arm and dragged him forcibly away, which was a tough task as he was nearly a foot taller than her, outweighed her by a good fifty pounds and vibrated with misplaced rage. Glancing behind her, she watched with an almost morbid fascination as Roman’s disposition completely shifted, his gorgeous face twisted with unbridled fury. 

“You put your fucking hands on me?!” In what seemed like slow motion, the much bigger and much taller man leapt smoothly over her fence like it was nothing. He propelled forwards with long strides like an angry bull across her backyard and into her house in a matter of seconds. “A’ight, I’m tired of being humble! You wanna fuss like a lil’ bitch, let’s go!” 

Guiding Zaia and Duchess to safety, Ivy’s anxiety reached a fever pitch as the two men stood literally nose to nose sizing each other up in the middle of her living room. “Guys, please! Zaia’s here!” she pleaded.

Angelo puffed out his chest as he eyeballed his adversary smugly. “Don’t get yourself hurt cuz you tryna comfort my bitch or my kid when I ain’t around. You in my house, fool,” he threatened.

Thick eyebrows raised in cruel amusement, Roman looked around the house. “Funny, I don’t see your name or your face anywhere.” He leaned in closer, his next words loud enough for only the other man to hear, “But pretty soon, your bitch gon’ be screamin’ my name and sittin’ on my face,” he bragged, pointing at his chin, hoping, praying that the punk bitch would take the bait. 

Too easy.

With teeth bared, Angelo swung at him. Wildly and carelessly enough for Roman to dodge easily and retaliate with his huge fist smashing into the other man’s face. There was an ugly cracking sound, and blood spurted from Angelo’s nose as his head snapped back and he stumbled backwards.

“Stop it! Stop it right now!” Ivy cried, but it was to no avail as Angelo lunged again, crashing into Roman. She threw herself between them, trying and woefully failing to pull the warring men apart who were seeing nothing but red as they beat the crap out of each other.

“Daddy, stop fighting! You’re gonna hurt Mama!”

Zaia, bless her brave little heart, was at her father’s side, tugging desperately on his sleeve. It all happened so fast, Ivy only able to see the moment Angelo lashed out blindly, his hand smacking Zaia right in the face. Her scream of pain as her little body collapsed on the ground pierced the air, plunging the room into stone cold silence.

“Mama!” Zaia burst into fresh tears as she clutched her face with one hand, the other reaching out to Ivy who quickly rushed over, scooping her into her arms and gently cradling her little head as she wailed loudly and clutched at Ivy for dear life.

A bloodied Angelo clambered to his feet, visibly devastated by his mistake. “Baby…Princess, I’m so sorry…Daddy didn't mean—”

“No! Don’t touch her!” Ivy snapped, backing away. Enough was enough. “I told you to stop. I told you!” Grasping her baby carefully, she glowered at him through unshed tears of anger. “Get the fuck out of my house! Now!” she hissed.

Swallowing hard, Angelo edged forwards again, his eyes full of regret and focused on his daughter sobbing into her mother's shoulder. “Zaia-”

“I said get out!” Ivy shouted again, feeling for the first time in a long time, nothing but disgust towards her ex-boyfriend. “I’ve had enough of your childish bullshit, enough of you!” She hated cursing in front of her baby girl, but her father had pushed her to her absolute limit. “Leave and never come back. You’re not welcome here anymore.” He could perform his fatherly duties from across town. Today was the last day he was setting foot in this house. 

Stunned, his face contorted indignantly at her words. “You playin’, right? You seriously gonna do this? It was an accident! Zaia, come here. Come to Daddy,” He extended his hands towards his daughter, his features sagging in dismay when she burrowed deeper into Ivy’s bosom, refusing to look at her dad as her sniffles intensified. 

“She asked you to leave. Several times.” Roman towered over Angelo menacingly, his big body shielding Ivy and Zaia. “Don’t make her repeat it again.” 

Angelo tilted his chin defiantly. “And if I don’t?”

“Then you deal with me. I’ll be happy to whoop your ass again,” Roman said simply, silently daring the son of a bitch to make a wrong move. 

“Baby, you trippin’. That’s my daughter! This meathead nigga needs to know that he’s oversteppin’! You’re mine!”

“No I’m not!” Her reply was cold and exhausted. “We’ve been over for years, Angelo! Get that into your thick skull and get out of my life!”

Scoffing snidely, the man’s blood-stained sneer was a frightening visual as he walked backwards out the front door, talking his shit on his way to his car. “You’re not keepin’ me away from my child. You need me, Ivy. You’ll come crawling back,” he growled, then pointed angrily at Roman, “And whoever the fuck you think your bitch ass is, bet, I’mma see about you...”

Roman stood in the driveway, muscular arms crossed over his torn, blood-stained sweater, watching like a hawk as the piece of shit backed out onto the road and drove off. He looked down at Ivy to his left. “Are you oka-”

But she had already retreated into the safety of her house, slamming the door shut. Roman returned his attention to the Lexus driving down the street, silently vowing that today would be the last time Angelo would ever be seen again.

Thanks for reading and thanks again to this anon for the story idea. Your replies and reblogs would be much appreciated if you enjoyed!

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[upsidedownwithsteve]

COMING SOON

The Harrington wasn’t necessarily the largest hotel on this side of the Italian coast, but it was certainly the most expensive.  

Built into the mountains of Sorrento, the white and clay coloured building looked more like a country manor, with ivy trailing from the trellis’ and climbing the walls. The windows had blue shutters that matched the colour of the sea that bordered the private patch of beach but the large, rectangular pool was a shocking cerulean colour that was seen even from the island across the bay. 

It was your favourite spot, always basked in Italian sunlight, the heat bouncing off of the patterned tiles. There were wooden cabana beds dotted around the pool edge, deep oak wood and sheer white linen curtains hanging from all four posts. They billowed gently in the sea breeze, showing off the pile of plush cushions inside, the gold tray on the mattress that sat waiting for glasses of sangria and saucers of martinis. 

Lemon trees bordered the property, tart citrus mixing with the salt air and by eight o’clock in the evening, the restaurant next door opened its doors and the smell of fresh pasta and garlic engulfed the outdoor patio. There was red wine on tap, a clawfoot tub by the window in your suite and a white robe with your name embroidered on the chest ready for your arrival. 

It’s why you came back each time, two weeks, every summer. (Plus a weekend in October, a few days in early spring, a day here and there when you needed a new handbag, a new pair of authentic leather loafers from Milan.)

That, and the owner's son, of course. 

[admirxation]

彡 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟑𝐭𝐡 - 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

♡ 𝐬𝐮𝐦. Choso gets obsessed with the girl that offered him a pen in class (wc: 4.7k)

𝐜𝐰 — afab!reader x Choso Kamo. 18+ smut mdni, dead dove do not eat, dub con (sex while reader is drunk and Choso is sober), obsession, yandere, male masturbation, sick fantasies (a mention of wanting to do non-con somno on the reader), getting off to the reader sleeping, p in v, unprotected sex, and cum. -> you've been warned; continue at your own discretion.

The first day he met you was like any other; he remembered the tired and sluggish feeling he had every morning when walking in the grey blur of a cloudy day to reach class and sitting in the back of class. At the same time, he stared at his blank notebook, realising that he had forgotten a pen. He remembered that he—being his shy self—was reluctant to ask anyone for help. His dark brown hair, slightly dishevelled from his tossing and turning sleeping pattern, hung in front of his pale face when he just sat there, nervous and awkward about asking someone to borrow something as simple as a pen.

But then you came into the picture.

He remembered when you sat next to him; he hadn’t ever noticed you before until you were right next to him and organising your things with casual grace; your presence was immediate, warm like sunlight that cut through an overcast sky with your hair framing your perfect face and curled at the edges. He remembered that stirring feeling when his gaze caught with yours; he remembered the warm feeling that spread in his chest but also not understanding the depth of what he was feeling; he knew it was attraction, but he remembered it felt deeper than that, his heart never felt like it stopped when he looked at other attractive women, you were the first to make his heart feel heavy, in a good way.

He could barely focus that day when you smiled at him; it wasn’t forced or polite; it was a simple, easy, and genuine smile that made his heart feel like it was hugged with a warm embrace.

“Hey, do you need a pen? You’ve just been looking at a blank page for the past five minutes.” Those were the first words you uttered to him, and that accompanying smile made him melt; it was beautiful. While giving him a pen was such a small act, it felt like you had offered him the world with your kind gesture and knowing what he was struggling with.

He remembered how he was momentarily frozen, with the sound of your voice catching him off guard, as well as your kindness and being able to notice when he hadn’t even asked for assistance; all he did at the moment was nod and utter a ‘thank you.’ However, this was the start of something bigger to happen, the first meeting of a forever-growing obsession he would have with you, the kind girl who sat next to him in a college class. That little moment was insignificant to many, but it was far from nothing to Choso.

The days passed, and he repeated recounting that moment: the way you smiled at him, the slight feel of the lingering sensation of your fingertips against his, and the way you made him feel warm. His mind couldn’t stop spiralling when he replayed the moment your lips curved, and your eyes shimmered, like a lovesick puppy replaying a movie moment in his wild imagination. The weeks that continued, and the more you sat next to him, engaging in a few-minute conversations before the professor spoke, he catalogued every memory of it. He stored it deep in his mind, replaying it while smiling like a lovesick idiot.

You had absolutely no idea what your presence had done to him, with just a simple gesture and a bit of small talk in the mornings, but Choso knew, and he knew he desperately wanted more of you. He knew it was awful to be this obsessive, but he would be a fool if he ignored how his heartbeat reverberated through his body every time he saw or even thought of you.

His obsession didn’t stop in those first few weeks; it only got worse and grew like ivy climbing up the walls, your lingering presence around his every thought and tightening its grip over him with each passing day.

After the first few weeks, curiosity began to gnaw him, physically hurting him with the want to know more. It started innocent—at first—or at least that’s what he kept telling himself. He searched your name online; you gave him a nickname you went by, and he found the name on the class register that best fit. It was a simple task that got a big tick right next to it. His heart always raced when he combed through your found profile; you had made a public profile and accumulated a decent following, so there were enough pictures for him to stare at and fall in love with. When finding it, he mentioned in the next lesson you two were together that he’d love to have your social media to talk more, as you both enjoyed the small talk; innocently, you agreed and gave him your private socials—rookie mistake.

With the private sector, he could see your life as if he was standing next to you and living it with you; you loved taking silly selfies with messy hair in the morning, coffee shop pictures with a location, and pictures of your shoes with the caption ‘bored’ when standing at the bus stop; however, what you didn’t know was your silly postings were just feeding Choso’s questions with answers. It was a piece of cake to find out what coffee shop you would go to every morning from 10 am to 12 pm; he knew that corner of the library you would always sit at from matching the view he saw in the window you would always take a picture of, and he also knew what time you would get home. From the pictures, you would always get the 6:45 pm bus and the stop just outside of campus; the only thing he needed to complete was to see what stop you got off at and see where your private life was actually situated.

On a Friday evening, you completed your studies at the library, packed up your things, and went to your usual bus stop just outside campus. Choso had made the decision not to turn up to class today, making you believe he was sick in bed when sending:

Hey, I won’t be in class today. If it’s no bother, can you send me the notes?

To which you replied like the sweet angel you were:

Get well soon, cho <3

That was enough for the pale on his face to turn bright strawberry red; you used a cute nickname and a heart. It was almost too good to be true; no girl had given him this sort of attention before, and he would never complain about it; why would he? This was a good sign; perhaps you might have been thinking about him as well, but Choso had a sort of game plan he wanted to follow.

Step one: Talk to you more. This step was already near completion with how you two talked every day, and a big bonus on his part was that he wasn’t the only one initiating the conversations. It was equal between you both, with a mix of topics like class, well-being, and silly videos that made the other one laugh—it was looking good for him. Step two: ask to hang out. This step was a work in progress; at the moment, he was stuck talking to you before and a little bit after class; he enjoyed this, but he longed to be with you longer than a few minutes and in a more intimate manner than just some text messages and funny pictures; he often fantasised about going on a date late at night and inviting you over, to snuggle up on the sofa together until he found the courage to make the move he had wanted to for ages; of course, many of his fantasies were straight up movie cliches, and the dirty ones…well… let’s say they were a certain type of film media inspiration when he fantasised about bringing you home and spending the night.

Gods, he could imagine it now; he could tell you would sound like an angel underneath him, that you would taste like a moreish sweet treat, feel soft as silk. The very final step would be to finally have you, to have the girl that had been driving him crazy from just a few simple smiles and interactions, but he needed to indulge while going through the long steps with you; he needed his sweet treats to keep secret before he could have you whenever you both wanted, plus, what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you.

He waited in the background while you sat and waited for the 6:45 pm bus, and thank goodness for his luck; it looked like the bus was quite full, making it easier for him to have his hoodie wrapped over his head and not draw attention while he sat a few seats behind you to watch that innocent face scroll through your phone while he was waiting for you to press the stop button. You hadn’t seen him today, meaning you wouldn’t know what he would be wearing, and accompanied by that little lie of being sick, you wouldn’t be aware nor prepared for his presence.

It was almost like some higher power was helping him since he found it so easy—almost too easy—when a few other people pressed the button straight after you, a few people getting off at the exact same spot; this was too easy with being able to blend into the background.

When you stepped off, he watched as you walked with your earphones in, clueless as you strode forward until you made a left turn into an apartment block—bingo. Finally, he knew where you had been living, and all he had to do now was find out which room you were in. Hopefully, you were somewhere in the back where he could find a hiding spot, and hopefully, you were a silly, naive girl always to have the curtains open to let the world see how gorgeous you were. Everything was going according to plan, and he was hoping things would remain to do as well as they had been.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Things continued to go according to plan ever since he found your apartment. To his pleasure, your talking had managed to increase more than just a little before and after class; you had been studying together in the library for a few fours together; of course, this was just a small step, but it felt like everything to Choso, it felt intimate to sit opposite you and watch that crinkle form on your brow as you tried to concentrate, the way the tip of your tongue would poke out when doing a reading and annotating the page, and the jolt of excitement that would run through him when your foot accidentally grazed his leg. Every time you apologised for it, he would just smile and tell you that it was okay and not to worry, but what he wanted to say was, “Please touch me more however you like”, like the little obsessive freak he was for you; all for a girl that just offered him a pen on a random day at the back of the class.

It was another evening when you said your goodbyes, giving him that sweet smile he had grown in love with, making him melt, and his knees buckle with the sight and memory of how the lips curved into comfort for him. Despite spending the whole afternoon with you, he needed to see you through the curtains you kept open. That’s right. After some snooping and looking around while staying in the stealth of tall bushes, he managed to find your window, which was always illuminated with aesthetic LED lighting, and just like he had hoped for, you were the type silly enough to keep those curtains open until you went to sleep—lucky him.

Right now, he crouched by the bush and looked forward to you sitting on the sofa, watching some movie that he had noticed you watched often. He noted it to bring up in casual conversation during the next library session break.

You weren’t even doing anything interesting, just lying down, looking like you were about to doze off, but Choso couldn’t help but stare at that pretty face and figure of yours; it only helped add arousal that made a warm stream of blood collect in his pants when he saw you turn around on your side, giving a view of your plush ass where your shorts were riding up when curling up and closing your eyes as you unintentionally dozed off. It's such a shame you kept your window locked. Choso would have adored to pay you an unknowing visit.

Perfect, perfect, perfect, he thought to himself when his breath hitched into a lump in his throat. He had never seen this much-exposed skin; it was autumn, so you would come to class with cosy jumpers and jeans, but seeing you at home, all bundled up with a tight top and shorts, oh, that was enough for the arousal to grow deeper and domino into his cock creating a hardened tent against the rough fabric of his jeans, a pleading pleasurable sensation collecting and drawing beads of sweat from his forehead the more it was begging for a sweet release, but for this time he would have to sort himself out with his own hand, but soon enough he’d be able to be inside of you and make you feel his hard length push in and out of that tight wet hole, he just had to be patient with the game plan, but while he was playing the waiting game he needed a little indulgence.

That was the fantasy. The fantasy of you writhing underneath him, and he just knew you would moan like an angel; just the thought of you moaning his name while orgasming and coming all over his cock was enough to make him spurt out sticky white all over in his tight boxers.

He palmed his large imprint, his pants getting deeper and heavier as it fogged out into the cold evening air as he watched the slow, steady rise and fall of your chest.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he whispered to himself as he witnessed his own sleeping beauty unknowingly giving him enough for fantasy to spread like wildfire within his psyche; it’s crazy how far an obsession can go when it involves a pretty girl.

It didn’t take long for the range of moments to cluster up in him unzipping his hands, his calloused hand plunging underneath the stretched waistband to feel his cold palm collect around his thick shaft, making him release a broken jolting yelp as he pumped his fist around his cock from just the sight of you.

“My pretty girl,” he whispers to himself as he watches your closed eyes take you into an innocent dream world while sin is happening right outside your window, but you are too naive and unaware to realise.

He imagined what it would be like to be on top of you, to spread your legs and nestle himself right in between, to feel your doughy and plush thighs underneath his fingertips, perhaps leaning down and peppering your soft skin with his kisses as he proved his love and adoration for you.

He couldn’t wait for the day every step would collide into a night of arousal and passion, and perhaps a relationship that would allow him to touch and appreciate you whenever you both wanted it; he adored you, you were his dream girl, and he couldn’t wait until the day he wouldn’t have to rely on imaginative fantasy and the lonely feeling of his own hand, waiting for the day he’d feel your tight walls spasm and clench around his dick and filling your cervix up with his load. You’d take it like the good girl you’d be for him.

Fantasies only snowballed into deeper and darker needs, wanting to explore it with the idea of taking you right there while you’re sleeping, watching that innocent sleepy face as he would plunge his hardened cock into your gummy insides.

He felt his weeping cock splutter precum and drool down his prominent vein, feeling it collect around his slender fingers as he continued to fuck his own fist, imagining that it was your wet pussy convulsing around him and sucking him in further. He’s been with other women before, but he’s never been obsessed, or even in love, with anyone like he was with you; you were the dream he needed to make a reality.

Choso continued to pump his cock, a heart throbbing sound collecting around his ears as his peripheral started to go blurred as he looked at your far too reach figure in your room and rubbed along his hot sensitive skin; not long before moaning and letting his lip quiver as a shot of white collected in his boxers and darkened the fabric. He wanted you and couldn’t wait for this game to stop until he could finally be with you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Ever since that night, fulfilling lusty taboo actions right outside your window, he couldn’t stop visiting; he kept coming over and nestling himself in the bushes right outside your apartment and stroking himself to the view of your sleeping and innocent body that he just desperately wanted there to be a day he could touch you.

Lucky for him, he found it.

On a Friday night, he found out that you liked to go out drinking with a few friends every other Friday. He didn’t catch their names but saw one being a tall blonde girl and another a mouthy brunette. He knew you went to the same club, and you were all divided into three paths when precisely four minutes from your apartment. It was surprising what could be found when being quiet and patient.

You wobbled with blurred eyesight as your arms wrapped around you to keep warm. You should have worn a jacket over the black dress that hugged your curves perfectly. However, to Choso, he was ecstatic you weren’t wearing a jacket; it made it easier to be smooth when he “accidentally” bumped into you.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you there. " Gosh, he was such a good little actor. He smiled at you like he was the epitome of innocence.

“Ohhh, hey Choso, what you doing here?” you wobbled a bit, still in your drunken state but smiling at him; you were obviously attracted to him, but you had kept this secret for a while, and you were completely oblivious to what Choso had been doing these past few days after finding out where you lived.

“Woah there, I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink.”

“Yeah,” you hiccuped softly, “I think I might haveeee, haha.”

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to trouble you.”

“Nonsense. It’s dark. I can’t let a lady out walking around. You don’t know what weirdo could get their hands on you,” he said as he put his jacket over you, the warmth making you feel safe.

However, the feeling of safety was an illusion; the weirdo you had to worry about was the one you were leading home in your inebriated state, but you were too dazed in your connection and attraction to him to care—the alcohol soon took away that filter you managed to keep during the day. Both of you obviously liked one another, but Choso was taking it too far, and you were too shy to mention anything; it was about playing the long game, which was soon going to end for a win for both of you with how being drunk took away your filter and let Choso take every advantage thrown at him.

He was gentle with you when taking you into your apartment, walking you over to your bed while taking in the interior of your place. He had already got a sense of what it looked like when he spent hours outside of your window, but seeing it close, all the trinkets and decorations up close felt like he had gotten closer to your heart—something he had been desperate for ages. You sat together on the bed, and he could feel his heart hammer against his chest. This was his moment to start something, touch you, get closer… but you were drunk. Did he really want his first time with you to be when you were dazed and drunk?

As mentioned previously, the alcohol had taken your filter away, and your real attraction to him had started showing when your soft hands trailed on his thigh, making him swallow the lump that was starting at the base of his throat.

“Thanks for taking me home, such a sweet thing to do,” you whisper in his ear, almost a suggestive and tantalising tone that made a strawberry hue dust on Choso’s cheeks; this was everything he had wanted with you practically all over him, but he still needed to play his cards right.

“No, it’s no problem, r-really… Any decent man would have done what I did… Don’t thank me for the bare minimum.”

“Oh, but I wanna,” you whispered seductively as your hands started to trail on his broad, muscular chest. The alcohol was affecting you internally with how your brain felt like it was spinning in the inside of your skull, but you also felt the warmth collecting in your core as you watched the face you had grown an attachment to be right in front of you; the drunkenness taking away your inhibitions and letting you do whatever your sober self wanted but felt like she couldn’t. “Mmm, maybe I should thank you, sweetie.” You whispered again as you started to kiss his neck, making him expel a deep groan as he subconsciously leaned his head to the side to provide you better access to the slope of his neck that had a bobbing adam’s apple protrude with the way he gasped for the sensation of your glossy lips.

“Oh, fuck,” he quietly moaned out. This was everything he had been dreaming of ever since his hands first collected around his cock and started rubbing himself to the thought of you and then the sight outside your bedroom; he felt devoted to you but also felt a bubbling feeling of guilt. Choso—while obsessive—was not delusional enough to believe he was in the right; he knew he was creepy and that he should stop; he wasn’t going to give a monologue of how he needed to be creepy. But he was someone who gave into his desires easily; any source of temptation he would take it; he was weak-minded, and that was his own fault, and he still felt a bubbling guilt within him when excitement and arousal made the tent of his pants peak and remembering all the boundaries he had crossed for what, an obsessive crush over a girl who gave him a goodman pencil?

“Oh, I think you like that,” you whispered as you started to rub the large imprint on his jeans, which made him shudder. “Mmm, I’m gonna reward your kindness very well, my love.”

Choso was enjoying the ecstasy of your small hands collecting around his cock that had been pushing against the thick denim fabric, begging to be released and nestle itself along and inside your body to fulfil every lusty desire he had accumulated over these days. But that bubbling feeling of guilt eventually eclipsed his desire.

“I want you so bad… I’ve wanted you for ages.”

“And what’s stopping you? I’m right here,” you had started to push down the straps of your dress before he stopped you, your dress resting on your cleavage and making him feel like he was about to burst.

“You’re drunk… I don’t know if you really want it and I…. I… It will break my heart to see you regret me.”

“Chosoooo,” you cooed, “I’ve liked you for ages; I promise you I won’t regret it. Have you ever heard of drunk actions, sober thoughts?”

“Yes, but come on, that’s different-”

“Shh,” you cut him off, “I do want you, I promise… Please just take me.”

“Fuck.”

He practically pounced on you as you both interlocked into a wet and passionate kiss, making you release a harmonious coupling of ‘mmm’s’ and giggles as you felt his kisses envelop your lips and start to trail on the curve of your neck and collarbone as he pulled the black fabric of your dress further down. His quivers got louder as he pushed your dress further down, leaving kisses on the exposed skin before dragging it down your legs, flicking it off your feet and discarding it on the carpeted floor. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but the way you begged for him, well, he soon believed in the ‘drunk actions, sober thoughts’ notion you had brought up to your defence; he didn’t imagine his first time with you like this, but he didn’t know when he’d have another chance, he went through with the dance of both of you removing your clothes before the heat radiated off of each other’s bodies while you embraced one another into bodily connection with kisses and grinding that made you moan.

“I want you so bad,” you whispered in the shell of his ear as you felt him rub the tip of his cock against your wet folds, making your lip quiver as you looked at him through your peripheral that continued to be blurred.

“Gods, I want you so much more,” his adam’s apple bobbed as his breath hitched, taking in a gasp as he started to push his cock in further into your anticipating hole, feeling himself shudder with arousal and excitement flowering through his veins when he heard you gasp.

“Aah, Choso,” you moaned through your bitten lip.

“Fuck, you make the p-prettiest sounds… much better than I imagined,” he whispered as his eyes rolled up towards the ceiling and fluttered them shut as he took deep and long strokes, feeling how your gummy insides clenched and pulsated around him as the tip of his cock that kissed that spongy spot that made your toes curl and your back arch towards him through a sea of orgasmic moans.

Your eyelids were heaving, but you couldn’t stop watching as Choso pushed his hand on your stomach and felt the way his long shaft was pushing itself inside of you.

“You like it when I fill you up like this?” he whispered gently.

“Aah, yeah, mmm, this is amazing, Cho,” you whimpered out, filling the room with a cathartic release of orgasms, moans, and wet slapping of skin to fill the room’s atmosphere.

He pushed his hand harder on your stomach, his spare hand squeezing the swell of your breast as he watched them bounce in his thrusts.

“Oh, fuck, I’m falling in love with you,” he whispered through a moan.

“Mm, me too.”

A trickle of excitement ran down his spine. It coursed through his body, continuing to slap his pelvis against the fat of your thighs, feeling closer as he continued to rut his hips forward and feeling your wet aching cunt suck him in further for the tip to kiss your cervix passionately. It wasn’t long after you grabbed onto his biceps and covered his pretty cock with your release, making him take a sharp breath in as he watched that creamy ring form around his shaft.

“Oh, you’re everything a man could want,” he whimpered out.

“Please, please, cum, I want it.”

It wasn’t like he needed the invitation as he pulled out and covered your tummy with his white load, watching how the splash oozed over your curves and softness.

“You’re amazing.”

“You are too, my love,” you answer back to his breathless comment.

He knew he shouldn’t have done anything he had been doing anything he had been these past days, with the obsessive searching, stalking outside the bedroom, the fantasies, and now taking advantage of you. Still, he looked into your eyes, and you shared the same arousal he did, the same want and desire; he would have to tell you in future everything he had done, but for now, he was focusing on recovering after his high of being with you and feeling what he had been desperate for.

🏷️ taglist: @bratbby333 @styrofoamplat3s @wintrrxxo @sleazymac-n-cheesy @localkiss -> check my pinned for taglist link and if you want to be deleted just message privately.

a/n: It's the 13th so had to get a dark fic out; I'm mad it's not a friday but a 13th is a 13th so you get some dark Choso. Just wanted to make a disclaimer, of course we all know I do not condone everything I write, I don't believe in the 'drunk actions sober thoughts', if someone's drunk they obviously cannot consent; this is just a work of fiction where I have warned you prior and by clicking and continuing to read you're consenting to reading and being a part of a fictional roleplay. I just wanted to get that out there.

[thoughtsfromlayla]

26 Ways of Taking You: A for Aphrodisiac

Summary: On a quest to save your little brother, you and your fated companion Dream of the Endless, run into a small problem in Aphrodite's Temple.

Notes: ~2.2k words, GUYS! I finally wrote a fic that wasn't below 500 or above 5,000 words, it just doesn't need any random side characters... or a definitive plot.

Warnings: MDNI - 18+, dubious consent, sex pollen, aphrodisiac (duh), porn without plot, unprotected sex (get tested yearly guys), P in V, no foreplay just straight fucking, Dream is a red flag but he's my red flag. I am willing to die on that hill.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

B for Breeding

“A temple of Aphrodite?” You question as you walk through the marbled entrance. The overwhelming smell of roses fills your senses and the honks of swans disappear as you cross into the building.

Morpheus follows closely behind. The drizzle of rain seemingly bounces off his coat and hair leaving him dry like the Sahara. On the other hand, you, the poor human with no otherworldly affiliations, were soaked to the bone. Your light jacket and sundress stuck to your skin until it became itchy and you quickly take off your jacket to dry easier in the momentary shelter. 

You miss the way Morpheus stares at your exposed shoulders and legs. His eyes run up and down your body, to the way the dress sticks to you like a second skin.

“Aphrodite loved Ares, unlike her vowed husband. But such is the game of gods.” Morpheus explains and peels his eyes away from you. 

You lean on a large pillar that supports a large brazier, one of many others. The heat helps you warm up and the shivers slowly leave your body as it dries your clothes. 

“So, Ares is… here?” You say without much confidence.

When the fates set you out on this quest to find your brother, you hadn’t even packed your lunch yet. They just threw you to the wind and then gave you Morpheus as a guide. As for him, it was so “He could get out of the house more” as his older sister has explained it to you. 

So, here you were, soaked in summer rain and sharing conversation with Dream of the Endless on a quest to find your kidnapped brother - all of which happened since this morning. The everything bagel and cream cheese you had for breakfast sat uncomfortably in your stomach, the same stomach that was screaming at you to eat something as your journey had left you to skip the midday meal. 

“Ares is behind this gate created by Aphrodite,” Dream sighs as if he were spelling out the obvious. “Yes, it is a possibility.”

You simply roll your eyes. For someone who is almost infinitely older than you, he certainly didn’t act like it. Feeling warmer and dry you started exploring the temple, running your fingers across the divots in the carved stone much like the climbing ivy that decorated the walls. 

At the end of the temple stood a magnificent statue of Aphrodite herself, wrapped in cloth and her hair flowing in the wind. Beneath her pedestal, you could make out a rectangular outline made out of large roses. 

“Hey! The door!” You exclaim in excitement. As much as you hate to admit it, Morpheus was right. He usually was right but you’d rather keep that comment to yourself, in case the ego inflates any more of his head and he drifts off. Which, would unfortunately leave you on your own to solve these puzzles. 

Morpheus appears behind you, peering over your shoulder at the door. 

“Seems like a hidden mechanism. It would be wise to not touc-”

You press your palm onto the center of the door and it gives away to the pressure of it. 

“You fool!” Morpheus seethes out and you tense. 

It seems like a trap, now that you think about it. With bated breath you wait, slowly inching yourself closer to Morpheus in hopes that the King of Dreams may be able to protect you if something were to go wrong. 

Yet, nothing. 

The door slides back into place, the sound of marble against marble scraping against each other in the otherwise completely quiet sanctuary. The quiet atmosphere stays peaceful for a few seconds but ends when a yelp escapes you when the roses suddenly go into full bloom, the petals giving a “floosh” right in your face, its sweet pollen dusting both of your bodies. You stare wide-eyed at it waiting for anything else to happen. When nothing did, you let out a sigh of relief and turn to Dream with a smile. 

“See, nothing to worry about.” You shrug with your palms facing upwards. The two of you stare back as a golden engraving appears on the door. 

“One from two, enter together.” You read out loud while trying to dust off the shimmering pollen, sneezing when some enter your nose instead. 

Great, a riddle but nothing comes to your mind as you think. Morpheus glares at you still and his eyes drift down to the palm that touched the door. 

“Your hand is glowing,” He states. 

You look down at your open palm and panic. The skin is bright pink and as Morpheus has stated, glowing. You scream at your hand and shake it aggressively. When the glowing still doesn’t reside you scream again and face the palm towards Morpheus’ face and shake it aggressively to grab his attention. 

“Enough,” He commands and grabs your wrist. The grip is stern but it doesn’t hurt and the warmth of his skin calms you down. 

It is now that you realize that the skin doesn’t actually hurt. There’s no burning sensation or pins or needles, nothing. Morpheus takes a closer look at your hand and you can feel the exhale of his breath fanning your palm. It tickles and you try to pull away, but his grip doesn’t relent. 

“What? Do you see something?” You ask, your other hand is clenched in on itself as a way of grounding yourself. 

Morpheus doesn’t entertain you with an answer and instead brings his face closer. A sound that you didn’t know you could produce comes out from your throat as you feel the warm, slick feeling of his tongue on your palm. 

“Wha..mm” Your words fall short and he licks again and a whimper leaves your lips. You look up at him, his eyes are closed as he inhales deeply.

He brings your hand to his cheek and leans into it. When you release your hand and he lets you, you see that your glowing mark has smeared to his cheek. You come in closer, nervous about marking the Endless but he stops you again. He peers at you, all silver gone from his eyes and instead blown pupils pull you deep into their voids. 

His hands find themselves around your waist and you place your hands on his chest to stop him from invading any more of your space. It doesn’t and he advances still. His brooding act doesn’t help with voicing whatever he could possibly be thinking. 

“Hey, what’s gotten into you,” You release a moan at the end when he presses his nose to the junction of your neck. The hot breath released from his mouth had your lower regions start to grow hot and slick. 

When his tongue licks the length of your neck, your fingers grasp desperately at the lapels of his jacket, holding on tight as your knee buckle beneath you. Morpheus smelled like grass after a summer thunderstorm and he stood sturdy like an old oak tree. 

You whisper his name and his grip tightens more, bruising and unforgiving. 

He groans into your neck. “Aphrodisiac.” 

Of course, Aphrodisiac, named after the goddess Aphrodite, the very goddess you are trying to please and solve her riddle. The thought crosses your mind momentarily but it is quickly cut short by Morpheus’ continued administration. The pink stain spreads further on Morpheus, anywhere and everywhere you touch him. Your cheek was pink as well, where he touched yours and markings of his tongue glowed pink as he continued his kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. 

“Oh, gods,” You moan into his hair as he dives deeper towards your chest. Your body is turning hot and you can’t tell if it’s just the aphrodisiac or the way he is touching you. Perhaps it’s neither, perhaps it’s both. Either way, you can’t stop the sounds that escape your lips. 

He presses forward and you step back until your back hits the pedestal and Morpheus’ large frame follows, trapping you between a rock and a harder place. You can feel his erection pressing against your stomach, hot and heavy and begging to be released. 

With restraint, Morpheus pulls back and pants into your neck. Your own breath was ragged, your tongue felt heavy when you speak. 

“Please,” You whisper, your hands travel down his chest, pink smearing along his black shirt, and cup his erection. 

He looks at you now, eyes peering into your soul asking you if you really did want this. You nod, not trusting your voice for a second time. 

“Say it,” He commands again, his forehead pressed against yours. “Say it,” He whispers in a plea. 

You tip your head up and respond with the strength you have left. “Yes,” You murmur against his lips, barely brushing yours with his own. 

He seals the deal with a kiss and hands once again go to your waist. He grabs you, hoisting you up and your legs immediately wrap themselves around his lean torso. You impatiently grind your heat into his as he dips his hands below your dress line and moves your undergarments to the side. 

It was rushed, it was sloppy and it was nowhere near romantic, yet you’ve never felt so much excitement. No one was near but the peering gaze of the daunting Aphrodite statue made you feel exposed. Morpheus doesn’t bother to warm you up for him and the heat of his cock presses against your cunt. He pushes forward and it stings. Tears swell in your eyes at the intrusion, his cock splitting you open as he sets a rhythmic pace. 

“Forgive me, forgive me,” He chants into your ear but the words fly in one ear and out the other. The pleasure the Dream Lord was giving you more important and present in your mind. 

Your hand reaches into his hair and grabs onto his roots. A groan sings from his throat and you can’t help it when your lips connect to his Adam’s apple. You leave bruising kisses along his neck and continuously feel the vibrations of his moans, each one low and gritty. 

Morpheus felt like he was about to lose his mind if he didn’t quickly finish the two of you off. His body felt like it was on fire and his head pounded in his skull with ideologies of fucking you until you were nothing but a pile of pleasure. When your nails grip his shoulders, he welcomes the pain and bites down on your collarbone to suppress his wanton moans. 

You were too sweet for him, a type of innocence that he didn’t want to taint. Tears well up in his eyes as he realizes that he did it without him even knowing. The aphrodisiac completely consumes the two of you. He loved it, the feeling of your legs wrapped around his waist, your grip on his hair, your moans filling the space and echoing around the temple, but were not his to take. 

“More, more, more,” You moan, head thrown back towards the ceiling and he couldn’t deny you the pleasure.

His thrusts become ferocious, slamming into you harder and harder until you were just a babbling mess in front of him. Your words range from his name to curses to simple pleas. The contractions of your cunt spasming around him make him falter for a moment but he presses on. When your orgasm reaches you, your scream is muffled by his open mouth kiss. His thrusts turn sloppy and uneven before he finishes as well and you feel the way his cock pulses within you. His semen drips out of your spent hole and mixes with your release on the polished marble floor. 

Your body deflates as the orgasm finishes and you’re left panting and leaning on Morpheus as your thighs tremble around his waist. The door behind you opens with an ungodly scrapping sound and you look behind you. Lust was still evident in your eyes but you were pulled back to the real world again. 

The aphrodisiac wore off and a blush rose high into your cheeks. You push against Morpheus’ chest not wanting to be in his space, asking him to put you down, but quickly realize that it was a bad idea when your knees buckle and you start to fall. 

Morpheus grabs onto you to steady you and you murmur a thanks, too embarrassed to look at him in the eyes. The aphrodisiac has made you look at Morpheus in a different light, but there were more important matters at hand. You take one steady breath and readjust your underwear and dress, Morpheus releases his grip on your arms as you go to turn towards the open door. 

Beyond the door is nothing but darkness with a slight wind blowing out towards you and the smell of metal and leather comes into your nose. Before you can go, Morpheus’ fingers wrap around your arm again. 

“Should we… talk about it?” He asks in that low voice of his. 

You look back at him, somehow finding the confidence to look at him in the eyes. You find that they are full of adoration and passion that it turns your eyes downwards again. You’ve heard the rumors of what it means to be the lover to Dream of the Endless. It is rainbows and butterflies, the world at the edge of your fingertips, but one wrong move, and you are cast away like you were less than nothing. You think of Nada, Queen of the First People, who is still condemned to Hell for declining his promise to make her queen of the Dreaming. 

It’s too much, you have your brother to save, and there is no room to talk about love. 

“Later,” You say instead. You still need his help and if the promise of ‘later’ keeps him around long enough until the end of your quest, then so be it. 

“Very well. Later,” He repeats then follows you into the realm of Ares.

B for Breeding

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This is going to be a 26 part series, all porn, no plot hehe ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)

Until the next fic,

♡ Yours, Layla