#and I got three different blends .....
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I’ve gotten into EPIC: The Musical lately and an idea came to me that really wanted to draw. Problem is I haven’t drawn anything in years so I decided to do a sketch dump to gauge my skills/do character studies. Anyways I liked this so much I decided to post it in case the actual idea never gets drawn. Stay tuned for more (or not).
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dee-the-red-witch · 4 months ago
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How to ACTUALLY date a trans girl
(This column was originally submitted to Autostraddle as a reply to their "A Trans Guy’s Guide to Picking Up a Trans Girl" but since they've apparently passed on it, it gets to be posted up free everywhere else instead.) Picture this- you’re a trans woman who’s been in transition for three years now. Your dating life has gone from abysmal to amazing in alternate fits and spurts and you’ve found not just one, but three awesome partners despite the many, MANY pitfalls you’ve experienced along the way. And then one day, your social media feeds ping up with screencaps of a guide to picking up girls like yourself. Needing a good laugh, you click through. And read. And proceed to smack your forehead with your own palm in frustration a few times and giggle and some other lines on the first readthrough. But things feel off, so you read again. And begin to seethe. And then start opening up the Word document and start typing frenziedly into it. Because honestly? At the end of the day, as a trans lesbian who dates all sorts of people on non-male parts of the amorphous spectral mass that is Gender, I feel like I’m obligated to. I wanted to go into that first reading and find a column that actually got things right, and this was so far off the mark in the worst ways, so I feel like I have to set some things down on paper. Because this guide reads, in so many ways, like everything my cisfem friends have complained about in the straight dating scene for years. Reading through it that second time, I felt almost the exact same sense of of sheer grease and sleaze that I’ve felt reading incel pickup guides. I felt like I was being seen as a pretty object at best and a disposable sex toy at worst. I wasn’t treated as human. At best it was a bunch of stereotypes, none of which applied to me. But under it all, I saw other bits- the tricks an abuser used to lure me in. The lies my rapist fed me. The excuses made by folks online for why I should be treated like a monster or thing because of my identity. You know, the specific blend of misogyny that singles out transfem identities in general- transmisogyny. And since we’re addressing the elephant in the room, I want to address a few particular points from Gabe’s article before I give you some real idea of how to go about this. And I want to emphasize here- this is after editing out a page of swearing, going over Gabe’s own past history of transmisogynistic writing, and just cutting it down to the actual points where the original article really went wrong, and also pick up a few points at the end that’ll actually work well for trans guys or anyone else who might be interested in a relationship with a trans girl. First off, if you’re trans as well? Stop playing the ‘we’re both trans’ card. ESPECIALLY if you’re coming at it from a ‘Why yes, I used to be a woman’ angle. For one, you’re telling us at the same time that you see us as former men, which is usually very much not the transfem experience (Personally, I always felt like I was putting on a ‘man’ act. All the time. Badly.) and for another, you’re being transphobic to yourself and your own identity. If we’re there to date you, it’s as the man you are- be that guy.
Secondly, just because the trans woman experience shares similarities with the experience you had trying to be a woman up until you came out and transitioned, it also has staggering fundamental differences, and your attempts to relate are going to highlight those differences in ways that aren’t going to work in your favor. We didn’t get to go shopping in public, or if we did, it was fraught with fear at being caught out in the early stages of transition, followed by massive frustrations with both trying to figure out where we fit into women’s sizing. And then discovering that absolutely nothing available in local stores, including thrift shops, would fit right, especially not that cute choker we’d always been drooling over. That nothing smelled right for lotion or perfume because we were dealing with a body chemistry that was going through a slow shift on HRT. And we don’t need or want to be reminded of just how much we stand out from the other girls in those kind of regards.
Also, maybe, just maybe, don’t do things that would get seen as completely misogynistic and creepy if you pulled them on a cisgender woman. Don’t go digging into her socials- stalkers and chasers pull that crap and it’s beyond tiresome. Don’t try to deduce what her pretransition life was like, that’s for her to share, if she chooses to. Don’t see her as a stereotype- some of us never played New Vegas, owned cat ears, or like thigh-highs. On that first date if you ever get there, don’t bring her flowers, lovebomb her like mad, constantly find little ways to touch her, any of that- if she has any experience, she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop in response, because she’s had this treatment before and it ended oh so badly. Just be yourself. And get it through your head that the bear is still definitely a choice regardless of everything- after all, we have examples like Gabe to prove that transmisogyny certainly isn’t limited to cis folks.
What should you do? Treat her like any other woman. Treat her like a human being, because we get so little of that, even from the rest of the LGBTQIA+ community. Yes, you’ll more than likely have to take initiative, because we’re used to seeing our attractions, needs, and desires as being perceived as aggressive or predatory by others. When you touch her, do it with assertion and intent- none of the little brushes and stalker moves- ask if you can hold her hand, or put an arm around her, so she knows you actually want to be here and want contact with her. Listen to her, and pay attention- let her be open and honest about her experiences and interests, and remember what she tells you, because she’s going to need to know that she’s wanted and valued for who she is and what she’s into, and it will be part of how she connects to you. And finally? Common sense and communication- every last one of us is different in a lot of ways, and asking or making room to talk about things from physical contact and sex to social activity or group outings or anything else can save a lot of blunders from ever happening. All in all you can and should date trans women! Please! A lot of the best relationships I’ve ever had were with other trans girls and I don’t regret any of those. But you have to put down the pickup guides, stop seeing us as fetish dispensers and sexy lampshades, and actually deal with us as people, first.
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ryin-silverfish · 7 months ago
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One nerd's musing about Chinese religion and "respect"
-I try to stay away from fandom discourse, but, much like how you can smell the stench from a dumpster fire without walking into said dumpster fire, I've noticed something that seemed to come up a lot in western JTTW + adjacent fandoms: "respect Chinese religion".
-Usually as a reason for why you shouldn't ship a character, because of fucking course it's shipping discourse too.
-And my first reaction is "Man, you are taking Chinese religion too darn seriously, more than people who are born and raised in China."
-My second reaction is "I mean, most of us are atheist/agnostic by default anyways, with a good number of what I'd call 'atheist/agnostics with superstitions': people who said they were not religious, yet believed in Fengshui or divinations and burnt incense at temples for good luck."
-My third reaction: "But why do I get the feeling that when you mention 'Respect', you are thinking about something completely different?"
-Then I reread an essay from Anthony C. Yu, "Religion and Literature in China: The "Obscure Way" of Journey to the West", and the metaphorical lightbulb just lit up over my head.
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(Everything below applies more to Daoism + associated folk religions, but by the time most classic Chinese vernacular novels were written, the blending of the three religions had become well and truly mainstream.)
(The conception of gods differs from dynasty to dynasty. What I'm describing here is mostly based on Ming and Qing ones; if you went back to Han or pre-Qin times, most of these would not apply.)
(I am one of the "atheist/agnostic by default" people. I just have an interest in this kind of stuff. I am also just one Chinese person, and an actual Daoist/Buddhist/Religion Studies researcher would probably have a lot more valuable information and perspective to offer when it comes to contemporary practices and worship. Like any people on the internet: take my words with a grain of salt.)
-Even in the past, when society was far less secularized, Chinese gods are not omniscient, perfect beings whose worship is a solemn, humorless affair. Some's worship are Serious Business, but that has more to do with the sort of gods they are and the patronage they enjoy, not godhood in and of itself.
-And even the ones that you are supposed to "treat seriously" are still very human. To use an analogy I've used plenty of times before: you respect and fear them in the same way you'd respect and fear an emperor's official, or the emperor himself, because if you don't, you are not gonna like the consequences.
-However, unlike Jesus, the emperor & his officials were capable of being temperamental, flawed, or an outright asshole, divine or not. Ideally, they wouldn't be, and if you were one of the "serious" believers——people who actually got an official permit, became ordained clergy, and went to live in a temple, you were unlikely to think of your gods in that manner.
-But it wasn't a complete, utter impossibility. The lower you go in the pantheon, the closer you get to popular religion, the less "serious" the gods and their worship become. By that, I mean general attitude, not sincerity of faith. You still shouldn't be rude to them, but, well, they are more likely to take a joke in stride, or participate in the "vulgar" pleasures of commoners because they weren't as bound to Confucian moral standards or religious disciplines.
-To stretch the same analogy further: you should still respect your village head, they could still give your ass a good spanking for being a disrespectful brat, but you were not obligated to get on your knees and kowtow to them like you would do in front of a provincial magistrate, the emperor's minister, or the emperor himself, nor did they have the power to chop your head off just because you were rude.
-On the other hand, the emperor would never visit a random peasant just to help them fix their broken plow or treat them to a nice meal, but your village head could, and your relationship would probably be warmer and a lot more personal as a result.
-Your respect for them was more likely to stem from the things they actually did for you and the village as a whole, instead of something owed to this distant, powerful authority you might never get to see in your lifetime, but could change its course with a single stroke of a brush.
-Now exchange "village head" for your run-of-the-mill Tudis and Chenghuangs and friendly neighborhood spirits (because yes, people worshipped yaoguais for the exact same reasons), emperor + his officials for the Celestial Bureaucracy, and you'd have a basic idea of how Chinese religions worked on the ground level.
-This is far from absolute: maybe your village head was a spiteful old bastard who loved bullying his juniors, maybe your regional magistrate was an honest, upright man who could enjoy a good drink and a good laugh, maybe the emperor was a lenient one and wouldn't chop your head off for petty offenses. But their general degree of power over you and the closeness of your relationships still apply.
-Complicating the matter further, some folk gods (like Wutong) were worshipped not because they brought blessings, but because they were the divine equivalent of gangsters running a protection racket: you basically bribed them with offerings so they'd leave you alone and not wreck your shit. Famous people who died violently and were posthumously deified often fell into this category——shockingly enough, Guan Yu used to be one such god!
-Yeah, kinda like how your average guy could become an official through the imperial examinations, so could humans become gods through posthumous worship, or cultivate themselves into immortals and Enlightened beings.
-Some immortals aren't qualified for, or interested in a position in the Celestial Bureaucracy——they are the equivalent of your hermits, your cloistered Daoist priests, your common literati who kept trying and failing the exams. But some do get a job offer and gladly take it.
-Anyways, back to my original point: that's why it's so absurd when people pull the "Respect Chinese Religion1!!1!" card and immediately follow up with "Would you do X to Jesus?"
-Um, there are a lot of things you can do with Chinese gods that I'm pretty sure you can't do with Jesus. Like worshipping him side by side with Buddha and Confucius (Lao Tzu). Or inviting him to possess you and drink copious amount of alcohol (Tang-ki mediums in SEA). Or genderbend him into a woman over the course of several centuries because folks just like that version of Jesus better (Guan Yin/Avalokitesvara).
-But most importantly, Chinese religions are kinda a "free market" where you could pick and choose between gods, based on their vicinity to you and how efficient they were at answering prayers. You respect them because they'll help you out, you aren't an asshole and know your manners, and pissing them off is a bad idea in general, not because they are some omnipotent, perfect beings who demand exclusive and total reverence.
-A lot of the worship was also, well, very "practical" and almost transactional in nature: leave offerings to Great Immortal Hu, and he doesn't steal your imperial seal while you aren't looking. Perform the rites right and meditate on a Thunder General's visage, and you can temporarily channel said deity's power. Get this talisman for your kids at Bixia Yuanjun's temple, and they'll be protected from smallpox.
-"Faith alone" or "Scripture alone" is seldom the reason people worship popular deities. Even the obsession with afterlife wasn't about the eternal destination of your soul, and more about reducing the potential duration of the prison sentence for you and your loved ones so you can move on faster and reincarnate into a better life.
-Also, there isn't a single "canon" of scriptures. Many popular gods don't show up in Daoist literature until much later. Daoist scriptures often came up with their own gigantic pantheons, full of gods no one had heard of prior to said book, or enjoyed no worship in temples whatsoever.
-In the same way famous dead people could become gods via worship, famous fictional characters could, too, become gods of folk religion——FSYY's pantheon was very influential on popular worship, but that doesn't mean you should take the novels as actual scriptures.
-Like, God-Demon novels are to orthodox Daoism/Buddhism what the Divine Comedy is to medieval Christian doctrines, except no priests had actually built a Church of Saint Beatrice, while Daoists did put FSYY characters into their temples. By their very nature, the worship that stemmed from these books is not on the same level of "seriousness" as, say, the Tiantai school of Buddhism and their veneration of the Lotus Sutra.
-At the risk of being guilty of the same insertion of Christianity where it doesn't belong: You don't cite Dante's Inferno in a theological debate, nor would any self-respecting pastor preach it to churchgoers on a Sunday.
-Similarly, you don't use JTTW or FSYY as your sole evidence for why something is "disrespectful to Chinese religion/tradition" when many practitioners of said religions won't treat them as anything more than fantasy novels.
-In fact, let's use Tripitaka as an example. The historical Xuanzang was an extraordinarily talented, faithful, and determined monk. In JTTW, he was a caricature of a Confucian scholar in a Buddhist kasaya and served the same narrative function as Princess Peach in a Mario game.
-Does the presence of satire alone make JTTW anti-Buddhist, or its religious allegories less poignant? I'd say no. Should you take it as seriously as actual Buddhist sutras, when the book didn't even take itself 100% seriously? Also no.
-To expand further on the idea of "seriousness": even outside of vernacular novels, practitioners are not beholden to a universal set of strict religious laws and taboos.
-Both Daoism and Buddhism had what we called "cloistered" and "non-cloistered" adherents; only the former needed to follow their religious laws and (usually) took a vow of celibacy.
-Certain paths of Daoist cultivation allow for alcohol and sexual activities (thanks @ruibaozha for the info), and some immortals, like Lv Dongbin, had a well-established "playboy" reputation in folklore.
-Though it was rarer for Buddhism and very misunderstood, esoteric variants of it did utilize sexual imageries and sex. And, again, most of the above would not apply if you weren't among the cloistered and ordained clergy.
-Furthermore, not even the worship of gods is mandatory! You could just be a Daoist who was really into internal alchemy, cultivating your body and mind in order to prolong your lifespan and, ideally, attain immortality.
-This idea of "respect" as…for a lack of better words, No Fun & R18 Stuff Allowed, you must treat all divinity with fearful reverence and put yourself completely at their mercy, is NOT the norm in Chinese religious traditions.
-There are different degrees and types of respect, and not every god is supposed to be treated like the Supreme Heavenly Emperor himself during an imperial ceremony; the gods are capable of cracking a joke, and so are we!
TL;DR: Religions are complicated, and you aren't respecting Chinese religions by acting like a stereotypical Puritan over popular Chinese deities and their fictional portrayals.
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undressrehearsal · 8 months ago
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dare to fuck this up
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summary: ever since your last game of truth or dare ellie's been avoiding you and it's time for an intervention
tags: NSFW, tlou au, college!ellie/reader, mentions of drugs and alcohol (not used), oral (e receiving), fingering (r receiving), finger riding (r receiving), little bit of angst, afab reader, the knee thing
a/n: this took me 2 months cause i work full time and it's 10k words so. enjoy (thank u for all the love on part 1! <3) also for anyone who doesn't know the tiktok dance i mentioned i linked it. don't look under the sound you'll spend way too long watching hot women dance
part 1
You hadn't talked about it. 
You had woken up the next morning, the sun blinding you from the window that was still left open. A cold autumn breeze ruffled your curtains, pricking at your bare skin. With one foot still in a dream, you'd groaned, turning over and pulling your blanket over your head. You had burrowed your head into your pillow - it still smelled earthy, rich with cologne and the faintest smell of weed. It had made your nose wrinkle only briefly, before you had reached out, searching for the warmth of another body - but your fingers only landed on the sheets, now cool to the touch. 
You sat up with a gasp, the blanket pooling around your lap. But you had fallen asleep on top of your blankets, hadn't you? 
The comforter was laid neatly over you, the pillows on the other side of the bed propped against your headboard, unbothered. The sun was streaming through the window, filtering through your curtains and shining in splatters of light against your own bare skin. Your small room was deafeningly quiet. 
That had been three weeks ago. 
For three weeks, Ellie avoided you. You hadn't seen her when you left to take your exam that morning. By the time you got home - after classes and after your part-time job - it was dark. The door to her bedroom was firmly shut, the muffled sound of music leaking into the living room - you wanted to smile when you realized she was listening to that song you had recommended. You thought about knocking on her door; not even to talk about what happened, really, but just because she was your best friend. Instead, you ate leftover takeout - cold because you were too tired to microwave it - and went to bed. You could hear her quietly singing to the music through your flimsy wall, falling asleep listening to her voice. 
At first, you honestly thought you had dreamed it. You thought maybe you had fallen asleep, sleep deprivation and vodka drawing out this fantasy in your dreams to torment you when you woke. But when you looked in the mirror, the bruises were still there. You ran your fingertips across the one on your collarbone, pressing at the one left behind your ear; you could still feel the warmth of Ellie's mouth against your skin, her teeth grazing across your hips. The phantom feeling still sent a shiver down your spine, heat creeping in your stomach. 
Ellie was trying her best to avoid you, but she still lived with you. After three days of not speaking, you resorted to a different approach. She didn't seem to have any plan to speak with you anytime soon - certainly not about what happened - so you let your body do the talking. You began wearing primarily v-necks and tank tops - ignoring the fact that it was still fall - simply to broadcast the line of lovebites she had left, her signature written all over your skin. They had faded slightly, but the purplish bruises still blossomed along your collar. You began wearing shorts around, short enough to show the bruise on your thigh; you let the fabric sit low enough to show the one at your hip, a pretty blend of colors that made you ache. The few times you did see her - when she was scavenging for food in the kitchen or right when she got home, before she could scurry away back to her room - you could feel her eyes lingering on you, gaze like a brand against your skin, burning all the spots she had marked. 
And she would hurry back to her room, locking the door behind her. 
Fine. 
If she refused to talk about it, you thought, you'd just have to make her. 
Which is why, three weeks after your original game - three weeks after that stupid fucking night - you bought a new bottle of vodka (by the time you had found the old one, it had spilled the last of its contents into your rug. Your room still smelled of it). When you got home, Ellie’s door was shut, just as it had been every day for three weeks. You kicked off your boots, leaving them in a pile in the hall, and knocked on her door.
“Sorry, I’m busy,” she called - just as she had every day for three weeks. 
You pursed your lips and knocked again, harder. 
“I’m busy!” she called again, her voice hard. It might have stung if you didn’t know her so well.
So, you knocked again. And kept knocking, a steady, continuous rhythm that echoed against the walls. You heard Ellie curse under her breath, could hear the scrape of her chair and her footsteps, and you kept knocking. You didn’t stop - didn’t even slow - until she opened the door in a huff, your hand falling against open air. 
“What the hell are you-” 
You shoved the bottle of vodka against her chest, cutting her off. She gripped it hastily before it could shatter against the floor. 
She looked frazzled. You had seen her during several exam seasons, during harrowing projects and infuriating essays. You had seen her in the hospital, two years ago, after breaking her leg skateboarding to work. But there was something in the way her hair was disheveled, sticking up at odd angles as though she had been running her fingers through it over and over and over again. There were bags under her eyes, purplish splotches like watercolor. 
And her eyes…. Her eyes were completely shattered. 
So you hesitated - briefly, just long enough for her to see the stutter on your lips - before you said, “Truth or dare?”
And the game began. 
Ellie looked at you, staring for several moments that stretched into infinity. You wanted to grasp it, to wrap your fingers around that stretched thread of a moment and hold it there where it couldn't hurt either of you. You weren't ready to let it go. But Ellie was looking at you with those broken eyes, and before you could say or do anything - before you caved and took the bottle back, fleeing back to the safety of your own room - the thread snapped. 
Ellie shook her head - and kept shaking it, as if doing so would rid her of this… whatever this was. “No,” she murmured, avoiding your eyes as her grip around the bottle’s neck tightened. “No, I’m not doing this. I’m busy, okay? I have an exam tomorrow-”
She moved to close the door - shutting it right in your face - but you kicked your foot out to stop it. 
“When somebody asks the question,” you said, reciting the stupid little agreement you both had written out two years ago, the night you established this tradition, “you have to play the game to its conclusion; when you run out of questions or pass out from alcohol poisoning. Those are the rules, El. Remember?” 
And still, she just looked at you, her brow furrowed like you were an equation she couldn’t solve - couldn’t even read, really. Her knuckles were white around the bottle’s neck, and when you looked down, her hands were shaking. You wanted more than anything to put your hands over hers, to still them - to bring those hands to your lips and kiss the white knuckles until she released her fists. Instead, you dug your nails into your thighs. 
You watched as Ellie took a deep, steadying breath, clenching her fists tighter before releasing the tension, her fingers relaxing around the bottle; her hands stopped trembling. She smiled at you, but it was tight, her eyes empty of their usual mischief. “Alright,” she said, and her voice was just as tight as her fists had been moments ago - the tension not gone, only transferred. “Okay, I’ll play. But you only get an hour - I really do need to study.” 
Ellie’s bedroom was the same layout as yours, only flipped, the two a mirror of each other. Strings of lights hung crookedly along the walls, the bulbs casting a soft, warm glow amongst the room, the same hazy hue of a dream. An easel leaned in one corner, a canvas propped against it; there were only the barest scribbles of an outline, incomprehensible to you. You thought it may be a profile, the gentle slope of a nose and soft lips sketched in pencil, but you weren’t sure. 
You ran your fingers over her desk as you passed; it was in absolute disarray. Two different astronomy textbooks lay open, covered in highlighter markings and Ellie’s sloping writing in the margins. There were three different cups on the surface in varying levels of full: a mug half full of coffee, still steaming; a glass of water that was completely full, untouched; and a cup filled with murky, grey liquid. A few paintbrushes had been left to sit in that one, and in large writing along the cup was written PAINT DO NOT DRINK. You almost laughed, remembering all the times you had watched your roommate spit water out after she had picked up the wrong cup. 
It felt strange when you sat gingerly on her bed. You had sat in this spot so many times before, more than you could count. You had spent so much time lounging on this bed, your laptop open in front of you while Ellie worked at her desk - on homework or her latest painting or nothing at all. There were days laid out before you where you both at lain in a crumbled heap, eating takeout on top of the covers because Ellie didn't give a shit about crumbs, an open laptop playing whatever horror movie she wanted to show you (she was always more scared than you, hiding her face in your shoulder). God knows how many truth or dare games you had played in this room, a bottle of alcohol passing between shaking fingers. When Ellie bought it, it was cheap whiskey and you hated it; you drank it anyway. 
Now, sitting on her bed - carefully, as though you thought it might break - your skin felt aflame, a fire burning in your muscles. When you ran your fingers over the messy sheets, you could only remember how it had felt to have your fingers clutching the ones on your own bed. 
Ellie sat at her desk across from you, folding herself so that she had one foot propped up on the chair with her, her knee folded to her chest; her other foot tapped anxiously against the floor. She was looking at you, her face strategically neutral, but it was like she was looking through you; her eyes kept shifting away, unable or unwilling to settle on you. Her voice gave nothing away when she said, looking at a spot above your shoulder, “Dare.” 
You sighed, feeling the questions wanting to claw their way from your throat with nowhere to go. You knew what you wanted her to do - what you wanted to dare her to do - but the words would only cause her to withdraw further. You felt like you had to approach Ellie as if she were a scared animal, ready to flee at the first sight of danger. 
Wracking your brain for something mild, you said, “Try to recreate one of those dumb popular TikTok dances.” 
You didn't miss how Ellie's shoulders relaxed, her hands noticeably unclenching. She looked at you and it was almost like nothing had happened; like she hadn’t been avoiding you for three entire weeks, becoming a ghost in your apartment. Like you both hadn’t made what had obviously been a drunken mistake. 
The beginning of a smirk tugged at her lips as she dug in her back pocket for her phone - its case had an astronaut on it, because of course it did. The screen illuminated her face, flashes reflecting minutely in her eyes as she scrolled. She bit her lip absently - she often did when she was thinking. You tried not to stare and failed miserably. 
“This’ll be easy,” she muttered to herself, half laughing. She scrolled through a few videos, and she had the volume down on her phone, but you could still recognize the song that kept playing on repeat; you were going to fucking die. 
There were several minutes of quiet, only the music playing from Ellie’s phone. With nothing to do but wait, you brought your legs up onto the bed, tucking them under you; your eyes wandered around the room, taking in the stack of paintings by her desk, both finished and unfinished. The figurine she had of Kassandra from Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey had toppled on her desk, her spear falling in a glob of paint, the tip smudged bright yellow. You investigated the posters she had hung up of her favorite bands - almost all of them with female singers; she had a very specific taste. On her nightstand, in a frame made of macaroni, there was a picture of her and her dad, taken at the zoo when she was quite a bit younger, the blurry image of a giraffe in the background. She was holding up a peace sign, smiling so wide her eyes were practically shut. 
You turned back when Ellie stood up from her chair, placing her phone on her desk. Shoving her hands in her hair, she said, “Can’t promise this’ll be anything amazing, but you get what you paid for.” Even as she said it, she was smirking, a dangerous twinkle in her eye. 
You watched as she rummaged in her closet, shoving aside probably half a dozen flannels and at least 10 different band t-shirts. She rummaged through a bucket with a few beanies in different colors, and you couldn’t see her face, but you already knew she would be wrinkling her nose like she always did when she was getting frustrated. 
You jumped, startled, when she suddenly exclaimed, pulling her head from her closet and turning to you with a triumphant grin. She held a black belt in her fist, holding it up like a trophy. 
You shook your head at her, even as your throat closed up with anticipation. “If it took you that long to find one, it’s no wonder your pants are always hanging from your fucking ass.” 
“Hey,” she said, picking up her phone again and looking at you with mock offense; she was still smirking. “I don’t exactly hear you complaining when my ass is out.” 
You heard the stutter, heard the way her breath caught after she said the words. It was so stupid - a stupid little remark that she would have made any other day three weeks ago. She wouldn’t have even thought about it, wouldn’t have batted an eye. You would have rolled your eyes and said something mean in response - something like, “I save my complaints for when I see your face instead.” You would have laughed and then watched a fucking movie or something. 
Instead, Ellie only coughed awkwardly, ducking her head to fiddle with her phone. In the dim light, you could see the flush of her cheeks behind her bangs. You looked anywhere but at her, your eyes darting around to find something to focus on that wasn’t how pretty she looked when she was flushed pink - how pretty she looked with her cheeks red from alcohol and exertion, her lips shining wetly - 
Your brain short-circuited when Ellie started the music - only the bite-sized sample that was trending on TikTok. She set her phone on her desk and took a deep breath, waiting for the song to loop again as she positioned the belt by her hips. She didn’t look at you, instead casting her eyes to the ceiling and muttering, “This is gonna be so stupid.” 
When the music looped again, you were forced to watch as Ellie thrust her hips to the beat, pulling the belt slowly away from her hips. When she brought it up to wrap the piece of leather around her neck, pulling it taut, you were surely convinced you must be paying for some sort of crime, that this was your eternal torture. Her movements were janky, stuttering and unsure and off-beat - she had only watched the videos for a few minutes and was relying solely on memory to guide her limbs. When she tried to tie her wrists into the belt, she got stuck, her hands ending up in a knotted mess. Still, her eyes met yours when she raised her bound hands above her head - coincidentally or purposefully - and you couldn’t look away. 
This was definitely Hell. It had to be. 
When the song started to loop again, Ellie hastily tried to pull her hands from the knot. The belt clattered to the floor, abandoned, as she scooped her phone up, fumbling with the buttons to cut off the music. She nearly dropped her phone in her haste. 
When the room was silent again, Ellie sat back down at her desk. Last time you had played, you had asked her to do something ridiculous for her first dare, and she had grinned with pride, practically preening. Now, she wasn't smiling; she hardly even looked at you, fiddling with one of the many paintbrushes on her desk. You compartmentalized the image of her thrusting her hips with her hands bound over her head, saving it for later. You always did torture yourself with these things. 
Ellie was looking at that same spot over your shoulder when she said, “Truth or dare?” She sounded pained, her words strained against some invisible weight. It was like your very presence in her room - on her bed - pained her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave and give her relief. 
“Truth,” you said, hoping against hope that she would ask you fucking anything about that night three weeks ago. 
But she had never been that easy. Ellie had never been one to give you straight answers and she wasn’t about to start now - especially not now. So instead of saying anything - asking anything - about that night that she seemed keen on forgetting, she asked, “What’s the worst first date you’ve been on?” Before you could protest that you always told her about your worst dates, she added, “One I haven’t heard before.” 
So for the span of one question, you let yourself believe that you were still talking to your best friend. That she hadn’t been avoiding you for three fucking weeks and this was only your typical truth or dare game in between studying. You believed that you were simply gossiping with Ellie, who had been your best friend for several years and nothing more. In the space of one question, you let yourself believe that this was still only a game and not an intervention. 
So, in the spirit of pretend, you thought for a moment, rifling through the index of all the shitty dates you’ve been on. Ellie had already heard most of them, had been there whenever you came back home; she was there whether you were heartbroken or relieved that you wouldn’t see the person again. There were a few times where you had come home laughing, and she had passed you a joint as you told her all about the horrible date - you would take twice as long to tell the story because you couldn’t stop laughing. 
Finally, you said, “Okay, this was before we came to college. We weren’t close enough friends in high school for me to tell you, so I don’t think you’ve heard this one before. Stop me if I’m wrong.” She waved her hand for you to continue, twirling a pencil between her fingers. “I had just graduated high school so I was dating around before I left for college - nothing serious, just casually looking around.” 
“Window shopping,” she interrupted you with a grin - that same easy grin she always had with you. Your heart tugged embarrassingly at seeing it again. 
You swallowed the lump and continued, “Yeah. So, I went on a date with this guy - he was some friend of a friend’s, I didn’t know much about him. We went out to dinner at some local dive bar - which was already fucking weird because, like I said, I had just graduated high school.” 
“Was this guy a fucking cradle robber?” Ellie said, wrinkling her nose. 
You shook your head. “He may as well have been. He was either 21 or he was just really good friends with the bartender because as soon as he came in, he got two beers - the cheap shit, too. It tasted like musty ass.” Your stomach twisted when she laughed. “So we sit at a booth and I finally get a second to really look at him.” You leaned forward, bracing your hand on the bed so you wouldn’t fall, and made sure she was looking right at you when you said, “And this motherfucker was wearing a shirt that said Black Rifles Matter.” 
You reveled in the way Ellie’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening. Her lip turned up in disgust, and the only thing she could say was, “No.” 
You grinned, nodding, and you had to focus really hard to not start laughing. “Yes. And I rolled up to this dive bar, fresh out of the womb, with bright pink hair freshly dyed and a crop top that literally said Femme on it in bright pink letters - which, okay, maybe not the choice to wear on a first date with a straight guy, but still. I was in this booth with a baby face looking every bit as queer as I am, and this fucking dude with a patchy mustache and a shirt that has more problems than I care to admit opens up by telling me he doesn’t like when girls dye their hair.” 
Ellie was rolling her eyes, on the edge of her seat. She leaned closer as you continued, “But fine, whatever, everybody has preferences I guess. But this guy gets three beers in, and he’s already been talking about weird shit - conspiracy theories and telling me how kids today are too soft - one of those fucking guys, right? But then he stops,” you hold up your hands for emphasis, leaning even closer, “and he leans into me over the table, and he looks me straight in the eye - you wanna know what he said?” 
Ellie groaned. “Tell me he didn’t ask who you voted for or some shit.” 
You barked out a laugh; it echoed on the walls. “God, I wish. No, this bitch looks me dead in the eyes, his breath reeking of bad beer, and he says, ‘Are you on your period? I have this weird talent for smelling when girls are on their period.’” 
You watched, delighted, as Ellie slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling a choked gasp. “No!” 
You couldn’t stop laughing, pressing your hand to your stomach as you fell back against the sheets. Her laugh filled the room like helium, making everything feel lighter - easier. Even now, you couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was being around Ellie. And for a moment, you did forget what had happened. You forgot about the string pulled taut between you waiting to snap. You forgot that this was anything more than simply another dumb game of truth or dare.
Until you looked up and saw the press of Ellie’s lips again, the way her eyes darted away, and you could feel yourself sinking again. 
And that’s how the hour went. Ellie - infuriating Ellie - did every single dare you asked of her. She did a handstand for a minute straight, her face turning so red you thought she might pass out. She called the local pizza place you often ordered from and asked for one hundred sardine pizzas, laughing when the poor teenage boy on the other line started stuttering. Last time, she didn’t take all the liquid in the fridge and make a nauseating cocktail; but this time, she did go and find four different liquids of her choosing - apple juice, almond milk, an old flat Dr. Pepper, and the remaining vinegar in a Kimchi jar - and downed it in front of you. She tried her hardest to hold a straight face, but only ended up scrunching her eyes closed, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle a gag. She never chose truth. 
For your part, you never chose dare. You answered every pressing, embarrassing question she asked, ignoring the flush to your cheeks. You told her the most absurd dealbreaker for a relationship. (“What do you mean you’ll break up with someone if they don’t like garlic?” Ellie asked, smiling even as she shook her head.”) You went through the original Wiggles band and said which you would fuck, marry, or kill (“There are four of them! Do I choose to have a threesome?”) 
And you waited. Each time you chose truth, you held your breath. You watched Ellie mull it over, her eyes darting around as she thought, and prayed that she would just ask you something. You knew it was an unrealistic wish, but you still watched her lips and hoped against hope that she would give you some kind of acknowledgement that this wasn’t all for nothing. You just wanted her to stop being such a pussy and fucking talk about what happened. 
But the clock kept ticking. 
After about an hour had passed, Ellie looked at her phone and sighed, standing up. “Okay, I really have to get back to studying. I have this dumb astrophysics exam tomorrow and I can’t wrap my fucking head around this shit, so I have to -”
“One more,” you cut her off, standing up from the bed. You followed her as she walked to the door, one step behind her when she put a hand on the doorknob. She paused, her hand frozen there as she looked at you - actually looked at you, not through you. It was only a moment, but it was there; you could feel the way her eyes had branded your skin even after she’d looked away. Your voice was rushed, breathless when you added, “We haven’t even opened the bottle, so what’s one more? Just for fun.” 
Ellie looked behind you, back at the vodka bottle on her desk with the seal still intact. She sighed, but she never could say no to you. 
“Fine,” she said, and her voice was so quiet in the dark room; the word felt like a secret between you, soft against the tension stretched thin. “One more.”
You nodded, taking a deep breath. You tried to sound casual - you really did - but when you spoke, you found you couldn’t speak any louder than a whisper, afraid to disturb the air around you. You ducked your head, trying to meet her eyes when you said, “Truth or dare, Els?” 
She looked at you, meeting your eyes, and she seemed to deflate, sighing out a breath that ruffled your hair - you hadn’t realized how close you were. Her breath smelled of canned ravioli and weed; it was almost enough to make you laugh. 
Ellie took a step back, clearing her throat, and answered for one last time, “Dare.” Because she was too afraid of the fucking truth. 
And fuck it if your heart didn’t stutter in your chest. You felt your fingertips buzzing, your stomach twisting nauseatingly. You felt like you were going to be sick, but you forced yourself to look up at her. You squared your shoulders, feeling like you were preparing for fucking battle, and said, the words familiar on your tongue, “Kiss me.” 
A moment of silence passed, the words suspended between you. They were tangible, and part of you still wanted to snatch them back - to swallow them and leave, to pretend this never happened - but you didn’t. You held them out to Ellie - you weren’t sure if they were a threat or an offering. 
Ellie didn’t recoil, and you weren’t sure if that was more insulting. She looked at you for a long moment before turning away, shaking her head and turning the doorknob. “I really need to study, okay? I don’t have time for thi-” 
You put your hand against the door, holding it there so she couldn’t open it. Your stomach was a mess, tying itself into knots that you would never be able to undo. And you knew - you were far too aware - that this could ruin everything. It could drive her further away, pushing her further into this little cocoon she was hiding in. Ellie might hate you for it. 
But this was too important to ignore. 
“Kiss me, Ellie,” you said again, and you could feel the bite of it on your own tongue. When you had said it three weeks ago, you had been so unsure. It had been a rush of words on a breath, tinged with alcohol and desperation. The words had been so careless, a sober idea that had made its way from your drunken mouth. 
Now, Ellie was the one who couldn’t look at you. She stared at the spot where your hand pressed to the door, willing you to let go. Her knuckles were white around the doorknob. Her voice was a rumble that you felt in your chest when she said, “I need you to leave. Please.” That last word - please - made your heart break. 
You swallowed around the lump in your throat and said, “No.” 
Ellie finally turned her whole body towards you, but she was wearing a mask; she had schooled her face into a mockery of nonchalance, her eyebrows raised expectantly as she watched you. She crossed her arms, leaning against her hip, and watched you with measured expectancy, shaking her head. She shrugged and said, “What do you want? I really need to study.” 
And it was the lack of care that broke you. 
You slapped your hand against the door in frustration, feeling the sting in your palm, disappointed when Ellie didn’t so much as jump. You shook your head at her, and you were so fucking angry you could feel tears stinging at your eyes. You blinked them away and snapped, “What’s your fucking problem?” 
Ellie’s eyebrows shot up, her mouth opening in indignant shock. “What’s my problem?” 
“Yeah,” you cut her off before she could even continue. “What’s your fucking problem? You know what happened - what we did - but ever since that night you have been so determined to act like it never happened. You haven’t even talked to me in three fucking week, Ellie!” She closed her eyes when your voice broke on her name. “You’ve hardly looked at me all night. And look,” you sniffled, feeling some of the fire in you die down, “if you regret it - if you want to act like it never happened and go back to how things were before, I get it, okay? But can you at least have the balls to fucking tell me?” 
Your voice echoed off the silent walls, filling the space between you until you couldn’t breathe. You wiped a hand roughly over your face; your cheeks burned and you hated yourself for it. The room was so quiet you feared Ellie could hear the sound of your racing heart. 
It felt like hours before Ellie spoke; her voice was so heartbreakingly quiet, tip toeing on eggshells that were already broken. “I don’t regret it.” 
You huffed out a breath, shaking your head as she still wouldn’t meet your eyes. She couldn’t even look at you. When you took a step closer, you could feel the heat radiating off of her body, could feel the warmth in your chest. Your voice had lost its fire, your throat cold and raw and broken. You could only murmur, “Then kiss me again, Els. What are you so afraid of?” 
“You,” she snapped. You jumped, taking a step back; your heart lurched when she finally looked at you. Those shattered eyes were watching you, so open and vulnerable you wanted to look away. You forced yourself to watch, to bear witness to it when she shook her head, blinking tears from her eyes. Ellie pressed her lips together, blinking several times before releasing her held breath. She held your gaze like it was a lifeline and said, “I’m scared of you.” 
And just for a moment - so filled with silence it might pop - you saw it. You saw how Ellie had run from you like an injured animal, hiding away. You saw the way her hands shook around her biceps. You saw the way she bit her lip to keep it from quivering. 
You shook your head, feeling so incredibly small underneath those eyes that had avoided you all night; now they were vividly, overwhelmingly focused, broken in the hazy light and so green it was dizzying (and you couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol this time). You didn’t recognize your own voice, so small and vulnerable that the words themselves ached: “How can I fix this, Els? You want me to-” You huffed out a heavy breath, choking on your own voice. “Do you want me to act like it didn’t happen? Do you want me to leave you alone? I’ll do whatever you want, Ellie, I just… fuck. I just want my best friend back. So just… tell me what I did wrong.” 
You jumped when Ellie barked out a laugh, so dry it cracked. It may have been a trick of the light, the soft string lights making everything feel unreal, but when she looked at you again, she went impossibly soft. 
“You,” she said, so softly it ached, “haven't done anything wrong.” She sighed, leaning back against the wall; it was like all the fight suddenly drained from her, her shoulders sagging against the weight of three weeks. She looked away, her lashes casting shadows over her cheeks, and said, quiet as a confession, “You were drunk.” 
You furrowed your brow, shaking your head. “What?” 
Ellie ran a hand through her hair, making it even more disheveled. Pathetically, you wanted to fix it; you knew how soft the strands would be under your fingers. 
“You were drunk,” she repeated, as though it pained her; as though it explained everything. Her voice broke, the shattered pieces falling at your feet. “And I…. Fuck, I shouldn’t have pushed you. I shouldn’t have… forced myself on you.” She heaved in a shaky breath, her words tumbling from her, broken glass cutting her throat, leaving it raw. “I couldn’t even… wait for you to wake up after. I just fucking ran - I couldn’t even look at you, and that’s even shittier! And for three weeks, I’ve been trying to figure out how to fucking talk to you when I know that we - that I shouldn’t have done that.”��
Ellie pressed her hand to her mouth, taking in a shaking breath - her entire body was trembling as she fought to hold it all in. She looked ready to burst, struggling to take in a deep breath. You reached out to grab her hand - to hold her together - but she flinched away. 
“I don’t-” you started, unable to find the words. You watched your best friend dissolve, and you couldn’t seem to fit all her pieces back together. “Ellie… Els, are you saying you’re avoiding me because - because you thought you took advantage of me.” The words tasted ridiculous on your tongue, a foreign object.
Ellie was shaking her head wildly, her hands balled into fists. “You were drunk!” she repeated, like a mantra. She pressed a hand to her chest as though to keep everything in. “You were drunk, and you kept telling me no, and I just… pushed. I pushed and I didn’t know when to stop and, fuck, I still can’t believe I did that and I didn’t even have the fucking balls to face you or even tell you I’m sorry, and-” 
“Ellie.” You reached out and grabbed her wrist, cutting off her rambling; she flinched again but didn’t pull away. She looked up at you, her eyes wide and vulnerable and so impossibly green. “For one, do I need to remind you we were both drunk. And that I was the one who told you to kiss me?”
She watched you carefully, guarded; her bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss it again more than anything. She took in a deep, shaky breath, ignoring the tears running down her cheeks; they mixed with her freckles like watercolor. “You kept telling me to stop - to leave it alone. And I didn’t listen.” 
“Els, I told you to stop because I was scared,” you admitted in a rush. Before she could respond, you continued, “Not of you. I was scared of how badly I wanted you, okay? And that’s fucking embarrassing to admit, but I’m saying it so you know it wasn’t your fault. I was scared because… fuck.” You scrubbed a hand over your face, feeling tears on your own cheeks. “Because you’re my best friend. And I knew that, as much as I wanted it, it could fuck everything up. But I didn’t want you to stop.” 
She shook her head. Her voice was raw when she said, “You couldn’t fuck anything up. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 
“Neither did you,” you practically shouted. “Ellie, I asked you to kiss me! Yeah, I had a few shots that night, but I knew what I was doing. You asked me how long I’ve wanted it - what did I say, Els? Tell me.” 
Ellie looked up at you, her cheeks splotchy from crying; she let you slip your hand into hers anyway. “A long fucking time.” It was no more than a whisper. 
“Yeah,” you said, gripping her hand to keep her grounded. “Not just when I was drunk. Not just when it was late. And definitely not just when you wanted it too. I’ve wanted you for a long fucking time, Els.” 
Ellie watched you, studying you like you were an equation she couldn’t figure out (she really needed to study for that astrophysics exam). She pursed her lips, nodding slowly, rubbing roughly at her damp cheeks. “Yeah.” Her voice broke again; she cleared her throat. “Yeah. Me too.” 
You took a step towards her; her body was so warm it was dizzying. You could hear her breath catch when you reached up and pressed your palm to her cheek. 
“What do we do now?” 
When she sighed, you could feel it on your lips. You felt the warmth of her hand at your waist, a steady anchor. “Like you said,” she murmured, her gaze soft; she reached up to brush your hair from your face, her fingers grazing the side of your neck. “This could fuck everything up.” 
Your heart lurched; you swallowed it back down so it could throw a fit right next to your twisted stomach. “Yeah,” you whispered, afraid to break the spell that made Ellie’s eyes watch the way your lips moved, captivated. “But….” 
“But,” Ellie repeated, leaning in so her nose brushed against yours; it was cold against your skin. 
You hardly had to move to kiss her, tilting your chin up to finally kiss that pouty bottom lip you had been staring at. You heard her breath catch again, her fingers pressing at your waist, drawing you closer so the warmth of her pressed against you. After three fucking weeks, you hadn’t forgotten how her lips felt against yours. It was just as intoxicating as it had been the first time; you were dizzy with the way she moved her mouth against yours, warmth spreading through your chest. 
Ellie broke away from you, but she didn’t stray far; she pressed her forehead to yours, and you could see that her eyes were still closed, her brow furrowed. She sounded impossibly small when she said, “Are you sure about this? I mean, what-”
“Ellie,” you interrupted; you twisted your fingers into her short hair and tugged lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from her lips. “Just shut up for once, okay?” 
You hardly even heard her replied Okay before her mouth was on yours again. Last time she had kissed you, you had felt lightheaded, floating with the weight of alcohol in your veins. Each press of her hands on you had felt unreal and distant, like she was touching you in a dream. 
Tonight, the vodka bottle sat unopened and forgotten on her desk, and Ellie was pressing against you with a sharp realness that made your breath stutter in your throat. When her fingers ran along your jaw, cupping your face and tugging you closer, they were lightning against your skin. She had the welcoming warmth of a bonfire, and you were like a fucking moth drawn to her. 
Ellie took a hesitant step forward, pressing you back, moving so slowly as though she thought you’d push her away. You let her push you backwards - encouraged her, really, entwining your arms around her neck and tugging her with you. You stumbled on the last few steps, practically falling back against the wall; Ellie braced her hands on either side of you to keep herself up, laughing into your mouth. You wanted to swallow the sound, to take it into your chest where it could curl up right next to your heart. 
The wall was cold against your back, but Ellie was quick to chase it away; her warm hands ran up your back, rucking up your shirt and scratching her nails lightly over your skin until you shivered. She was so gentle with you this time, running her fingers over your skin with such careful deliberation, as though each kiss and each caress was meticulously planned out. 
It was with this painstaking consideration that she lifted your shirt, pooling it around your chest; you raised your arms so she could pull it over your head. 
Ellie snickered, snapping the strap of your bra against your skin. “This is new.” 
“Shut the fuck up,” you said, batting her hand away. It was one of your nicer ones, and you couldn't tell her that, embarrassingly, you had worn it on purpose with the hopeless thought of just in case. “Sorry I’m not in my pajamas. I’ll be sure to fix that next time.” 
She grinned, ducking her head to press a kiss to your jaw. She hummed against your skin, “No, I like it.” 
You didn’t talk about the implication of what you had said - next time. But the way she kissed her way across your jaw, her teeth grazing over your skin and sending a shiver down your spine, promised a next time. As Ellie’s tongue darted out to lick along your pulse, you could feel the words in the breathy sigh that escaped your lips. When she ducked her head to bite at your collar, she branded the words into your skin. 
“You’re such an asshole,” she said, her laughter warm against your skin. She pressed a gentle kiss to your collarbone; the bruise had long faded, but the phantom ache was still there.  You could feel her smile when your breath hitched. “Just had these on full display. Drove me insane.” 
You huffed out a laugh that stuttered when she pressed a kiss at the edge of your bra. “I had to get your attention somehow, didn’t I?” 
Ellie lifted her head to meet your eyes. Her voice was barely above a whisper, her breath brushing your lips when she said, “You’re crazy if you think you’ve ever not had my attention.” 
When she kissed you again, it was with a new fire that burned bright in your chest. Her hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer so that you could feel her body against every inch of you. Her fingers dipped below the waist of your pants, pressing at the soft skin there. You felt her tongue press against your lips; when she ran it along the room of your mouth, she swallowed your moan. 
Ellie hummed against your lips, pressing you firmly into the wall and shoving a knee between your legs. You gasped at the sudden friction, heat pooling in your stomach when Ellie gripped your hips and pulled you closer, grinding against her sweatpants-covered leg. Her lips brushed against your ear and she murmured, “Tell me to stop and I'll stop.” 
She had said those same words last time, pressed drunkenly into your skin. There was an affirmation hidden somewhere underneath: Do you still want me? Before, they had been slurred, like a sloppy kiss against your lips. Now, her hands steady against your hips, her body warm from something other than vodka, it was whispered like a promise. 
You answered by pressing your hands to her chest; she didn’t fight you as you pushed her away, didn’t hesitate as you walked her backwards until the back of her knees hit her bed. She let herself fall backwards, but she wrapped her arms around your waist as she did so. You fell into a crumpled heap on top of her, knocking the air from both of your lungs, and you could feel her laughter against your neck. 
Lifting yourself up on your elbows, you glared down at her; she only answered it with a grin, lifting herself just enough to kiss you briefly. You couldn’t suppress your own smile when you said, “You’re infuriating.” 
Her eyes sparkled mischievously. She hooked her fingers in your belt loops and gave them a tug as she said, “Yeah, get used to that.” 
You kissed her again to hide your smile. You didn’t talk about the inclination of that either. 
Growing impatient, you swung your legs on either side of her, sitting up and straddling her hips. Ellie’s hands ran up your sides, captivated, as though refusing to keep her hands off you for even a moment. You idly ran your fingers over her stomach where her hoodie had risen up, the warm skin right above her sweatpants; you delighted in the way she shivered at your touch. 
“This doesn’t seem fair,” you hummed, running your hand higher up her abdomen, revealing the expanse of soft skin; if you pressed just a little bit harder, you’d be able to feel the muscles beneath. You smiled when you heard her breath stutter, chest rising just slightly to meet your touch. “You’re wearing way too many clothes.” 
Ellie - ever enthusiastic - wasted no time in sitting up just enough to tug her hoodie over her head, leaving her hair an absolute mess. She tossed it across the room; you thought you heard it knock something over, but you didn’t have a chance to look before Ellie was grabbing your hips, digging her fingers into the soft skin. You gasped when she used the leverage to pull your hips down, grinding against her. 
This time, she was the one not wearing a bra - she had been home studying all day, so you hadn’t expected otherwise - and your eyes raked over miles of fair, warm skin. You wanted to run your fingers over it and watch the shiver your touch pulled from her. You wanted to press your lips to every inch of hot skin and feel the way her body arched into you, chasing your tongue. 
But she was watching you with an intoxicating shade of anticipation in her half-lidded eyes. You realized you had been staring for a few seconds too long because she had that cocky ass grin on her stupid face. 
“Like what you see?” she teased, pulling your hips down again so you had to bite down a moan. 
“Shut the fuck up,” you mumbled. You couldn’t tell her how many times you had imagined what she would look like under your hands or how you had always wondered how far down her freckles went (you couldn’t keep yourself from running your fingers down her chest, tracing them like constellations). You couldn’t tell her how your eyes had tracked her anytime she walked around the apartment in a sports bra or, sometimes, in only a towel, your imagination running away from you. 
If you told her, she’d never let you live it down.
Instead, you let your hands drift across the small swell of her chest, feeling the way her body arched into your fingers. You had to bite back a grin when your thumb brushed over her nipple, feeling her body shudder beneath you. You wanted to record the way her breath caught in her throat to listen to over and over again. Her eyelids fluttered, her lip caught between her teeth; you knelt down to kiss her, hard and deep, smiling into it when you pinched her nipple gently and she moaned against your lips, fingers tightening around your hips. 
You needed to taste her, you realized. Your mouth watered with it. 
You bit her bottom lip between your teeth, grinning when you heard her hiss. You took a moment to kiss your way across her jaw and down her neck, open-mouthed kisses pulling sighs from her lips. You couldn’t resist sucking the skin into your mouth, feeling the way her pulse jumped under your tongue and loving the moan that rumbled in her throat, her fingers gripping your hips so tightly you were sure you'd have bruises - again. But when you pulled away and saw the red beginnings of a bruise on her pale skin, a thrill ran through you. She would have to walk around with a physical reminder of how you had made her feel. 
You loved revenge. 
But you weren’t like Ellie, who had taken her sweet time in unraveling you. You didn’t have that kind of patience - certainly not now, not tonight. You had spent far too long holding yourself back - too long averting your gaze, never letting your touch linger. You had spent so long schooling your own imagination, trying to ignore the way your heart stuttered whenever Ellie wandered too close. You had spent too many nights letting your mind wander, only feeling safe to let your imagination run when you could hide in the dark; you had spent far too many nights with your hand between your legs and the fleeting image of green eyes and that crooked fucking smile. 
So no, you didn’t have any patience left in you.
When you reached between your bodies and pressed your palm to her sweatpants, you swallowed her moan, drinking it in and feeling like you could survive on it alone. Maybe it would finally satiate your fucking thirst. 
Kissing your way down her chest, you pressed the words into her skin - “I can't fucking believe you though I didn’t want this.” - before pressing the flat of your tongue to her nipple. You could get drunk on the breathy moan that dripped from her lips, the way she arched up into you like her body ached to be closer to yours. She pressed her hips into your palm and you could feel the heat through her sweatpants. 
When you pulled back just enough to tug at her sweatpants, Ellie started laughing, breathy and hitched as she said, “Little eager, aren’t you?” Even as she said it, she was lifting her hips, pushing hastily at her pants to get them off faster. 
The fabric was damp when it dropped to the floor, pooling around her ankles. Stepping off the bed, you placed your hands on her knees, pushing them apart. You dropped to your knees and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the skin above her boxers. Her skin was hot under your tongue when you said, “Haven’t I waited long enough, Els?” 
Ellie only responded with a moan as you sunk your teeth into the soft flesh of her thigh and pressed the heel of your palm to her underwear. You grinned against her skin when she cursed, grinding down into you. You soothed the bite with your tongue and backed away to admire the red beginnings of another bruise. 
Ellie groaned, twisting her fingers in the sheets when you ground your palm into her. “Fuck, I’ve waited long enough too, right?” 
You couldn’t hold back your grin, tugging at her boxers so she would lift her hips. With her underwear around her ankles, Ellie lifted herself up on her elbows so she could look down at you. Whatever she saw - you on your knees between her legs, lips parted so your hot breath fanned over her - made her groan, another breathy curse falling from her lips. She reached down and carded her fingers through your hair, fingers soft against your temple. 
You smiled, blinking coyly up at her, and said, “Little eager, aren’t you?” before pressing the flat of your tongue to her clit. 
The moan that wracked through Ellie’s chest sent warmth spreading through your stomach, an ache pooling between your legs. You raised your eyes to watch her as you licked a slow, painstaking stripe over her slit, watching the way her mouth fell open in a choked gasp. The metallic taste of her on your tongue made your head spin; you moaned when she twisted her fingers in your hair, delicious pain stinging your scalp when she tugged. 
Ellie gasped your name like it was a promise. “Fuck - what the fuck -” Nonsensical words dripped from her lips with abandon, sweet as honey to your ears. When you ducked your head down to press your tongue inside her, a brief, hot pressure, her fingers tightened in your hair, her voice hitching when she cursed again, her words slurring together. 
You wrapped one arm around her thigh, feeling the muscle trembling as you pressed your fingers into the soft flesh. You ran your other hand up her stomach, feeling the way her breath quickened in the rise and fall of her chest. Stretching further, you flicked your thumb over her nipple and tightened your arm around her thigh when her hips bucked, holding her in place. 
You wrapped your lips around her clit, sucking it into your mouth and fighting back a smile at the keening whine it pulled from her. Her fist in your hair tugged you closer, guiding you exactly where she wanted you - and how could you resist her when she was chanting your name like a prayer? 
A shudder wracked through Ellie’s body when you flicked your tongue over her clit, lapping at her like you were starving. (After waiting so long to taste her, you might as well have been.) She groaned when you pinched her nipple between your fingers, her thighs clamping around your ears. Her legs shook when she came, your name on her tongue as though it were the only word she knew. You coaxed her through it, the flat of your tongue licking over her clit until she was gasping for breath, her hips slumping back against the bed. 
You peppered kisses over her thighs as she came down, your hand brushing across her stomach in soothing circles. Your knees ached from the cold floor, the carpet burning against your skin, but you couldn’t convince yourself to move just yet. When you glanced up at her, Ellie was looking down at you with glassy eyes; she had slumped back a little against her elbows, her limbs jelly - you tried not to let that go to your head - but she held out a hand to you, grasping for you. “Fuck, come here.” 
You both took the time to finally scoot further up the bed, Ellie's head propped on her pillow, her hair a messy halo around her. She pulled you on top of her, bracing her hands on your hips as you straddled one of her legs. When you leaned down, she tilted her chin up to meet you, kissing you lazily, licking into your mouth like she had all the time in the world - like she could kiss you forever and it still wouldn't be enough. With your elbows braced on either side of her head, it felt like you were both in a small bubble, the world left outside to wait for you. Fuck, maybe you did have all the time in the world. 
You gasped when Ellie raised her leg, pressing it between your thighs with an intoxicating pressure. She used her hands on your hips to push you down, guiding you as you grinded down against her. She broke away from the kiss, taking a moment to just look at you. Her pupils were blown, swallowing the green entirely. 
She grinned, endearingly lopsided, and murmured, “Now you're wearing too many clothes.” You whined a protest when she took her hands off your hips, but she only reached behind you to fumble with the clasp of your bra. It took her a few tries - you bit back a laugh when she cursed in frustration - and she threw it across the room when she finally got off. 
“Who the fuck designed those things?” she grumbled, fingers quick on the button on your jeans. 
You got off of her for only a moment, just long enough to kick your jeans and underwear off, but each second her skin wasn't on yours was agony. Your clothes hadn’t even fallen to the floor before Ellie was pulling you back in by the nape of your neck, her other hand guiding your hips back over her leg as she kissed you with a hunger that may as well have devoured you. You hissed when her teeth sunk into your lip, her tongue soothing over it before licking into your mouth. 
Your breath caught on a broken moan when she pressed her thumb into the dips of your hips, pressing you back to grind against her leg. The feeling of your bare pussy sliding against her thigh made you lightheaded, the dizzying pressure sending sparks through your stomach. Ellie's fingers still on the back of your head twisted in your hair, giving it an experimental tug; you felt her smile against your lips when you whined. You were pliable under her hands, your hips stuttering against her leg. 
Ellie pulled away, pulling you back by your hair just far enough away for her to look at you; her eyes raked over your body with a hunger that set you nerves on fire, looking ready to devour you. 
“God, look at you,” she breathed, raising her leg just slightly, the added pressure making your heart stop. Releasing your hair, her hand ran down your side, sliding across your chest. You moaned when her thumb grazed over your nipple, your hips stuttering; her other hand on your hip tightened, fingers digging into the bone. “So fucking wet for me and I've hardly even touched you.” 
“Shit,” you cursed when Ellie bucked her hips, her thigh grinding into you. You tried to glare down at her even though you knew your own traitorous eyes betrayed your growing desperation. Her cocky smile didn’t quite land, its impact softened by the way she watched your lips in fascination, her pupils blown - you couldn’t see the green anymore. Your voice wasn’t nearly as hard as you wanted it to be, your want softening the words: “Fuck off, Els, don’t be a dick.” 
“Am I being a dick?” she asked in mock offense, pouting up at you. “Good things come and all that shit, right?” Ever as she was teasing you, Ellie’s hand crept down your stomach, fingers warm against your hungry skin. She lowered her leg just enough to slide her hand between your thighs. You gasped, feeling lightning in your veins when those calloused fingers slid over your clit, already wet with want. Her eyes darkened, her lips parting. She slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into her, and said, “Fuck, look at you. God, I finally get to see you like this….” 
You struggled to speak past the breathy moans beginning to drip from your lips: “Finally? How - ah - fuck - how long - how long have you…?” You couldn’t think of a way to finish that sentence, your thoughts clouding over when Ellie dipped just the tips of her fingers briefly inside you, gathering your wetness. 
“Like you said,” she murmured, finally pushing two fingers slowly inside you; even as she kept talking, she watched your face carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort, “a long fucking time.” 
Your jaw went slack when she curled her fingers, gasping when she found that spot that made you see stars. She paused, as though giving you a moment to adjust, unaware of just how many times you had done this with your own fingers. 
“Shit, Ellie,” you moaned, canting your hips down into her hand. She adjusted her arm, positioning herself so that the heel of her hand pressed to your clit, pulling another breathy moan from your lips. Her other hand was still on your hip; she pushed you back, guiding you to grind on her fingers. “Ah - fuck.” 
She watched you carefully, fascinated by the way your eyes rolled back in your head, your brow furrowed; you felt her own wetness on your thigh again. Her voice was so fucking breathy when she said, “How long have you wanted this, baby?” She hummed; releasing your hip, she ran her hand up your side to knead at your tit, her fingers so careful against you. You groaned low in your throat when she flicked her thumb over your nipple. “How many times have you come thinking of me? Did you imagine my fingers inside you, angel? Did you moan my name?” 
You couldn’t even think of a snarky response; you were too distracted by the way her fingers curled inside you as you fucked yourself against her. Her rough palm slid deliciously against your clit, grinding into her with a growing desperation that made your thighs shake. Your shoulders ached from holding yourself over her but it was only an afterthought as you felt a tight warmth building in your stomach. You leaned down just enough to kiss her, moaning into her mouth when words failed you. 
“Fuck, look at you,” Ellie repeated, groaning when your hips stuttered. You were lightheaded, fucking yourself desperately on her fingers, grinding down against her palm and chasing that intoxicating warmth spreading inside. “So fucking pretty for me.” 
She kissed you as you came, licking into your mouth and tasting herself on your tongue. You pressed your clit down into the heel of her hand, riding it out, feeling the way that warmth spread down to your fingers. Ellie broke away from the kiss to trail her lips down your neck, leaving wet kisses along your skin and saving every broken moan that was gasped right into her ear. 
Ellie didn’t move as you came down, letting you ride out your high, tracing gentle circles down your side. You slumped against her, your arms giving out; your weight landing on her forced all the air from her lungs. She only laughed breathlessly. 
It was several long moments before you were able to move again. Ellie ran her fingers through your hair as you gasped into her neck; she hummed absently and you could feel the vibration against your lips. 
When you were able to, you slowly lifted yourself off of her, wincing slightly at the sudden emptiness. With gentle hands, she guided you back down to lay beside her; you curled up against her without waiting for her invitation, resting a hand on her bare chest so you could feel the steady pounding of her heart. 
Ellie didn’t wait for invitation either before she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer; she was blissfully warm against the suddenly cold air. Something tugged pleasantly at your chest at the realization that you would no longer have to monitor your own movements so carefully - you could touch her, you realized, any time you wanted now. God, how were you going to ever stop now? 
Without anything else to say, you sighed against her skin: “A long fucking time.” 
Ellie hummed, giggling at your delayed answer. The fairy lights on her walls cast the room in a warm glow; with the hazy lights around you, you would almost believe this was a dream if Ellie wasn’t so solid and warm beneath your fingers. You traced the freckles across her chest, connecting constellations you had seen her chart before. 
Her voice was so quiet in the small room when she asked, “What do we do now?” 
You hummed, feeling sleep winning the war inside you. “We can figure that out tomorrow,” you said, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. Tilting your head, you leaned up just enough to kiss her, warm and deep and breathless, before moving away to meet her eyes. “Just don’t fucking run off again, okay?” 
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alchemistc · 8 days ago
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Eddie tips his beer against his lips, fights the smile turning up the corners of his mouth as Mara and Jee each cling to one of Buck's arms, the both of them screaming to their hearts content. It's - loud, and Buck isn't doing anything to temper the noise, growling out one of his Roledex of monster noises, lifting one arm and then the other like some bastardized workout routine.
Beside him, Tommy sighs.
It's a familiar sound, at this point. Tommy is so fucking full of love, and Eddie knows he's spent a long ass time looking for a place to put it. He can't think of a person better prepared to take the bulk of it on than Evan Buckley.
"I cannot handle your lovelorn sighs, dude. You got the guy, you don't need to act like some regency hero watching from the sidelines."
Tommy eyes the neck of Eddie's bottle like he's thinking about punishing Eddie for the comment with a beer tap, so Eddie shifts it out of his reach - he's in no mood for another lesson on the physics of cavitation from Buck while he's cleaning foam off the patio and trying to prevent Jee from lapping it up like a dog.
Denny's too old for most of the horseplay, now, but there's something about Buck that makes kids unafraid to act like kids - he takes a flying leap and gets an arm around Buck's neck, and now he's somehow hauling three of them around with one of those wide, uncareful smiles Eddie's always been a bit jealous of.
Tommy's chest expands, and Eddie can feel his lips pursing, his eyes rolling to the side in warning. Tommy blows the breath out through his nose and scowls.
"I knew Shannon was it for me after our first date," Eddie says into the silence, shocking himself with the ease her name slides past his lips. He hasn't - he doesn't - Christ, even thinking her name sets him back sometimes. But this feels - it feels like the only memory pertinent to the situation.
Tommy's pretty good at keeping a straight face when he's feeling big things - decades of practice, Eddie knows, and he's aware that Tommy has spent another ten years unpacking that, forcing himself to wear his heart on his sleeve. Still. It seems easiest when it's Buck, and Eddie can't fault him that.
"She was such an asshole," Eddie continues, fond, while Tommy's gaze shifts to him, careful, concentrated, that special blend of steady eye contact and a stilling of his body that lets people know he's really listening, retaining, will be able to recite word for word something personal someone told him about themselves. "Even then, even as young as we were, I just wanted to share everything with her. Jokes, and stories about my day - happiness and sadness and... life, you know?"
Tommy swallows. His gaze shifts in the quiet of Eddie's confession, unerringly returning to Buck. Eddie's watched plenty of women in love with Buck looking at him. It's never been that look.
The one Eddie'd clocked months ago, a subtle shift from smitten to in love to something else. Something more.
In the grass, Buck levers himself to his knees and begs for mercy, and nearly takes a knee to the groin for his surrender.
Tommy's chest expands.
"You measured his ring size while he's passed out coming off an extra shift, yet?" (Buck has. Eddie's been fielding a fucking deluge of links in his messages, at least a hundred different rings at this point that look identical to Eddie but Buck apparently has half a million opinions about that he seems to think Eddie can help him with.)
Tommy doesn't give him time to react, this time. The bottom of his bottle hits the top of Eddie's and Eddie scrambles too late, foam spilling along the sides, over his fingers. The patio rug soaks up the liquid as it spills over his fingers, but Tommy seems to think the hassle of cleaning off his brand new patio is worth it, if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.
"I'm going to go rescue my boyfriend before Jee-Yun decides hearing Evan howl in real pain is her new favorite hobby."
Eddie's beer is still foaming, a steady trickle up the neck and down the side, right over his fingers, dripping to the rug beneath his feet. He'll need to go inside and wash his hands soon, maybe rearrange Tommy's tea drawer while he's in there - it's the only thing safe from Buck's wrath in that kitchen. "Get me another beer while you're up," Eddie snarks back, and leans back to watch the way Buck's eyes gleam when, instead of rescuing Buck, Jee and Mara both take aim at Tommy instead, and Tommy's swings them both up into the air while they screech in delight.
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mrskokushibo · 4 months ago
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Wrong?
Muzan x fem!reader x Yoriichi
Warnings: Smut, rough sex, dub con, threesome, watching corn, very NSFW, 18+. Modern AU. 7k words.
Summary: Your boyfriend Muzan is a star, and you love being his girl. But the man has needs that you have been neglecting for a while. Tonight will start a chain of events that will have you asking yourself if sex and love in a relationship truly should be inseparable?
A/N: I loved creating this storyline. This is a request from a friend. The only thing she asked for was Muzan's girlfriend falling for Yoriichi. It's one of my favourite stories to write - I got to spread my creative wings.
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Masterlist
The club was full tonight, hosting the release party for a new book by one of the most prominent writers in the city. The venue was an old factory building, stylishly renovated with a mixture of white rendered walls, exposed brick, and steel structure, decorated with an eclectic and carefully curated selection of furniture ranging from sleek Scandinavian design armchairs to rococo sofas and chandeliers.
A place that quickly became a favourite with the cultural circles of the city. It was also the home of a popular nightclub on the weekends as well as the venue of choice for a society hosting slightly, well, different types of events, namely invitation-only orgies, that your boyfriend and subsequently yourself were always invited to, but had to decline due to your unwillingness to participate in anything like that.
Tonight’s event was the kind you gladly accompanied him to. As always on such occasions, your boyfriend Muzan Kibutsuji was one of the guests of honour. He was a young star writer, specialising in dark horror and fantasy, having sold over a million copies of his first novel at the tender age of twenty-three. Now, five years later and with another few million books sold, he was among the literary elites. He also had a background in acting, although there was a veil of mystery as to what type of movies, he was in.
You too were a writer and the two of you met at a seminar hosted by your favourite Japanese superstar novelist. Well, you would be lying to yourself if you thought you actually were a professional writer, more of an aspiring writer, really. Your studies and work took up most of your time, so the only writing you did was manga and anime fanfiction. Yes, you felt very inadequate at these parties, but you quickly adjusted to assuming the role of the supportive and devoted girlfriend of the literary star.
And tonight, was no different. You wore a brand new, figure-hugging little black dress and high-heeled thigh-high leather boots. Simple, but sexy. For the last half hour, you were standing idly sipping your champagne, while Muzan was involved in a heated debate with some older, seemingly unimpressed author and his artist friends. You were a little tipsy and were hugging Muzans arm all the while he was busy talking.
He was such a hottie, you thought, you saw the envious looks on the faces of his female colleagues every time he brought you with him to any event. Yes, you could consider yourself lucky. His looks were striking, as he was essentially an albino, meaning his eyes were red and his hair white and wavy, but he always coloured it black. The monochromatic colour combination together with his masculine yet defined and delicate features gave him an exotic and almost out-of-earthly aura. His muscular arms were covered with intricate black gothic tattoos (he had tattoos in other, more intimate places too) and he sported a tongue piercing. His style was a bit steampunk blended with hard rock, he looked good in suits and ripped jeans alike. And he stood almost six feet tall.
The boredom of just standing around was slowly leaving room for thoughts other than literature, you were getting a little horny, to be completely honest with yourself. You were into your third glass of champagne and were slightly tipsy, the ambient rhythmic music, warm dimmed lighting, and the buzz of people talking were putting you into a pleasant lull, making your senses pliable and receptive to new impressions.
Out of nowhere, you started to imagine what it would be like when an orgy is hosted here… the throaty moans and high-pitched squealing of female pleasure mixed with the deep raspy grunts of the men, loud screams of people climaxing and the wet, squelching pounding of flesh against flesh. You could picture naked bodies, bodies in provocative lingerie, illuminated and glossy in the warm light of the chandeliers. It is almost as if you now suddenly were curious about it…
And that is when you noticed him. That other man. He was standing in the middle of the room deep in a conversation with a group of young people. His appearance stood out in the crowd, he was very tall, probably well over six feet, maybe six feet three, with an athletic build. His hair was long and black, tied in a ponytail with cascades of shorter bangs framing his face. Red highlights illuminated his layered hair. He was dressed in tight black jeans and an equally tight black t-shirt, and was wearing long earrings with what looked like the rising sun. There was a strange red mark on his left temple, a birthmark maybe? You could not help it, but you found yourself staring at his bulging biceps every time he lifted his beer to his lips. You were amused with how boredom brought out such primitive instincts in you. You were interrupted by Muzan who nudged you gently,
‘Would you like another drink?’ 
‘Yes, please’ you replied.
He walked away to the bar while texting someone and smirking. He came back with drinks only to find a new group of colleagues taking his attention. So… you proceeded with your little dirty pastime. Suddenly, the man looked in your direction, a dark maroon gaze piercing straight through you. You froze, and at the same time, a familiar heat was starting to spread in your belly. Wetness was pooling between your legs and you were thanking yourself for wearing panties tonight.
He looked away again, but then his gaze was constantly seeking yours for the rest of the evening. When it was time for you and Muzan to leave, while walking past the group with the gorgeous object of your attention, he suddenly looked you up and down and gave you the most lust-filled gaze you could imagine. You were so stunned you kept on staring at him, your head turning back in his direction while you were leaving the room.
The ride home proceeded in awkward silence; you have never seen Muzan in such a strange mood. When you entered the penthouse, you slouched on the sofa and closed your eyes. You were a little tired from all the impressions, especially that specific one… You opened your eyes feeling the presence of your boyfriend. He was standing in front of you holding handcuffs. ‘Move to the armchair’ he commanded in a deep, raspy whisper, the way he almost hissed the words sent a chill down your spine. ‘What now?’ you thought puzzled.
‘I saw what you were doing all night. You were staring at that man like a shameless slut.’
His words were true, you were indeed staring, but so what, this came from the man who suggested attending orgies in the past.
Perplexed, you retaliated: ‘Am I not allowed to look at people anymore?’
‘Oh, my love, you were not just looking, you were eye-fucking him. Do you think I cannot tell the difference?’
You swallowed and obediently moved to the armchair.
He placed your arms on the rests and slowly cuffed each of them to the furniture. Then he picked up the remote and turned on the projector. What was instantaneously visualized on the screen went straight to your sex. It was a close-up of a man and a woman fucking, with loud, obscene moans serving as the soundtrack. The camera started slowly to move away from the copulating pair and the back of the male came into full view, intricate tattoos spreading over his back like a veil of black lace and long, wavy white hair snaking down his neck and shoulders while his hips were rhythmically moving back and forth to slam his dick into the woman. When the camera moved to show the front of him your heart nearly stopped, the red pupils staring intently at the woman he was railing, that face…. It was Muzan. So that was the acting career he was so mysterious about.
In the meantime, Muzan was in the kitchen part of the open-plan living space, texting someone. You were both completely silent while the sounds of sex were filling the space. A few moments later and a pair of now completely soaking wet panties, the doorbell rang. Muzan walked over to open it. His face was adorned with a mischievous smile as he glanced your way. What happened next was something you did not expect and that started an unstoppable chain of events.
The person Muzan let in the apartment was a woman, a petite blond with hair all the way down to her round ass, dressed in a sleeveless skin-tight latex dress, that showed off her large (most presumably) fake silicone breasts. A real little sex kitten. Muzan led her to the sofa and sat down spreading his legs so that she could kneel between them.
He parted her pouting pink lips with his index finger and slid it deep into her mouth while she released a throaty moan, he then pulled the finger out stroking her bottom lip, only to pump the finger back into her mouth even deeper this time while rotating it. His other hand slid down her dress off her breasts and started slowly caressing them, making her moan even harder. He was pinching her nipples, making her perfect little body arch in pleasure, and looking even hotter. All the while her small manicured hands were stroking his crotch and after her back arched from overstimulation, she unzipped his pants and gently pulled out his now fully erect, hard cock. She was stroking it gently and licking the sensitive tip.
Eventually, she sank her head down on the full length, stretching her shiny, pink lips, gagging a little, and continuing to bob her head up and down on his thick length. His dick was large, so that most of the time she was only getting half of it in her mouth with the rest of the shaft treated to a pumping motion by her delicate hands. He threw his head back; you could tell he was close. Her moans were getting louder too and a few moments later he grabbed her by her ponytail and the back of her head and shoved her down into his groin while bucking his hips upwards. The woman gagged heavily, the sound wet and sloppy. He climaxed.
Once he was finished, he let her head go and she slowly pulled away, gasping for air, with spit and cum connecting her mouth to his penis. She looked him in the eye with a submissive almost grateful look. He was still stroking her breasts, while she was licking up all the cum from her lips and sucking his cock clean. And then, just like that she adjusted her clothes, got up, threw him a little kiss, and walked out of the apartment. The porno on the screen was playing all the while this was happening adding to the already surreal and loaded atmosphere.
You were too stunned to even think, let alone say anything. ‘What the fuck did you just witness?’
Without a word Muzan got up from the sofa and walked up to you, his dick still hanging out of his pants. He knelt in front of you and put his hands on your soft thighs, slowly kneading them up towards your crotch. His hands were getting closer and closer to your wet lips and finally they reached your soaked g-string. Muzan started rubbing you through the wet fabric with two fingers.
‘Fuck you are wet. Such a whore you are, getting wet from watching other people fuck. You are a dirty little kitten, aren’t you?’
You were too ashamed to answer, ashamed that something so wrong and apparently hurtful aroused you. You should have been turning your head away, yelling at him, crying even. But all you did was watch… and get wet.
‘You see, my love, when people get jealous, they sometimes stop thinking, they do stupid things. Do you think, what I did was stupid? Hm? But, you know, I got jealous, very jealous. And when you have been such a prude with me for so long, never wanting to do the things I thought we should do and then go drooling after other men, what do you think I should have done?’ His voice was raspy and menacing, but also filled with lust.
Muzan’s fingers were now slowly spreading your labia and rubbing up and down between your slick-soaked folds. You were so wet, his actions created small squelching sounds. He added another finger and slowly worked his way into your dripping pussy, crooking a finger and pumping in with small circular movements that made your muscles clench around him. He then spread your labia and moved in to lick you between your legs. His was giving you long and slow, gentle licks all the way on the very inside of your labia, you could feel the metal of his tongue piercing leaving a streak of extra pressure and thus enhanced sensation on the thin strips of flesh it was touching.
Gradually, he started to increase the force with which he was working his tongue on you. Wherever the piercing pressed on your sensitive flesh, it was exerting extra pressure on your nerves. When he finally reached your clitoris and started circling around it and occasionally skilfully flicking his tongue so that the piercing would hit the sensitive nub, your thighs were sent into convulsions of pleasure. You were starting to edge, your climax so close yet his actions not decisive enough to grant you release. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably, while he was flicking his tongue over your clit while all the while pumping his fingers into your pussy. You were so close; you were drooling and tears started to form in your eyes.
‘Muzan, please let me come, I’m so close’ you were moaning and squealing and when you thought he was increasing his pace, he suddenly pulled away and started uncuffing you.
‘Go down on all four for me doll.’
 You did what he asked you to, as you were so greedy to come. You now had the porno in full view in front of you and there he was on the screen fucking two women now, one riding his face and the other his dick. Watching that made you so fucking aroused. It was wrong, but you could not help reacting to it in the way you did. You felt like an animal, driven only by instinct at this point.
Without a word, he spread your ass cheeks and aligned his hard tip at your entrance, and soon his thick girth was pumping in and out of your pussy, wet, sloppy, indecent sounds of the two of you fucking on top of the vulgar sounds coming from the porno were filling the otherwise so elegant and relaxing space of your shared apartment. He was thrusting so hard that with every move you were being sent forwards with so much force that eventually your whole upper body was flat on the soft rug with him pressing down your back with his hand. He increased the pressure, supporting himself almost fully on you, and leaned down to whisper in your ear.
‘I will now come inside you my little whore, I will breed you, because you are my very own whore, I bet you would like to carry my little brat, would you?’
With that he increased the pace and strength of his thrusts, you were clenching around him, desperate to come. His hips and lower abdomen were now pressed flush to your round soft ass and you could eventually feel his lower abs contract indicating his release. His orgasm must have been a big one as he growled while pushing himself in you and releasing a huge load of cum into your fluttering insides.
‘Fuck you were good, kitten. I will sleep so well now.’
He pulled out, stood up and grabbed the remote to turn off the movie, and left for the bathroom. You were left high and dry, or so you thought anyway…
When you entered the bedroom Muzan was seated in the chair lounge next to the lit fireplace and opposite of your shared bed, fully dressed sipping on a glass of single malt whisky. The flame was making his eyes look almost devilish.
‘Here you are. I think you do deserve to come after all, we do not want you to lose sleep, do we?’
There was something so menacing in his voice, something that was hitting all the submissive notes in your entire being.
‘Undress for me, doll’
Without hesitation, you started to take your clothes off.
‘All of it, now!’ He commanded.
You did as you were told.
‘Now. Lay down on the bed so I can see between your legs. Play with yourself for me, make yourself come.’
There was nothing else to do, but to obey and you already felt like you were in a trance, as if nothing of this was real. You laid down and started to flick your nipple and got your imagination ready, and the fantasy that was helping you get off involved the tall man from the party, your only invisible act of defiance against your boyfriend. You imagined him seated on a sofa at the party, with everyone watching while you came up to him and straddled him shamelessly. What followed made you move your hand down between your legs and masturbate. Your fingers were doing their skilled and experienced work and very soon you came. Your orgasm was intense, with waves of pleasure causing your body to arch and convulse, you released a small scream and when the waves of pleasure finally flowed away, you were just lying there, limp with soaking wet fingers and pussy. You licked your fingers dry and closed your eyes.
A harsh yank to your chin shook you out of your bliss. You opened your eyes and the only thing in your line of sight was Muzan’s cock.
‘Open your mouth for me now, sweetheart’
The gentle words were in such stark contrast to what he was about to do because as soon as you opened your mouth, he grabbed you by your neck and shoved himself fully into your mouth, making you gag. He stayed like this for a few seconds, savouring how deep inside your throat his dick was seated, and rotated his hips a little. Then he slowly pulled out, only to slam himself into you again, and again and again, until you were a gagging, drooling mess with tears and mascara running down your cheeks. He pulled out, drool connecting your mouth to his dick, and lifted your head up by yanking you up at your ponytail.
‘I think this is a good look for you, isn’t it, doll? My submissive little kitten, so sweet and obedient. ‘
He shoved himself in you again and this time kept on going until you could feel his muscles spasm and the warm, salty liquid filled your mouth and throat. He pumped into you a few extra times before pulling out. You swallowed most of the cum, but there was still some left on his cock.
‘Clean me up.’
You licked his dick clean and he lifted your head by the chin, so very gently now.
‘Hm, we will both sleep well after this, won’t we?’
And he placed the gentlest of kisses on your lips and went into the bathroom to clean himself up. You followed suit, but you knew you would most likely not sleep all too well, still trying to come to terms with what he has done in front of you with that woman, as well as trying to grasp how in the hell was it your fault. Was he really the jealous type?
The following day began with Muzan getting up and making you both coffees. He behaved as if last night did not happen, something that confused and infuriated you even more. Since it was your day off, you decided to head over to the gym to clear your head and hopefully figure out your next move. Both you and Muzan frequented the same gym in the neighbourhood, the gym was large, but with a relaxed atmosphere. There was also a martial arts dojo in conjunction with it that Muzan went to occasionally, but you never showed any interest in.
As soon as you entered the gym, you nearly froze in your steps. There, next to the reception desk was the man from the party, chatting casually with one of the personal trainers. You stalling in your movement caught his attention and he looked straight at you and waved. As if hypnotised you started slowly walking toward him and finally stopped in front of the man. He was so tall, you had to tilt your head up to look at his face.
‘Hi,’ you blurted out.
‘I didn’t know you went to this gym?’
You kept on rambling as if the two of you were already introduced. He looked at you with slight amusement.
‘Yes, I do, and I believe I saw you at the party last night, yes?’
‘Yes.’ You nodded like the idiot you were. For every minute feeling more and more awkward.
‘Well, I guess we should have a proper introduction then. My name is Yoriichi’. He stretched out his hand.
‘Y/n’ you said with overdriven courage as you placed your hand in his large one for a courteous handshake.
‘Excuse me, boss, can you please sign this?’ the two of you were interrupted by an employee of the gym coming up to Yoriichi with some papers. You looked at him and asked surprised.
‘Oh, you work here?’
‘Yes, actually I kind of happen to own the place’ he answered shyly, scratching his head and blushing a little.
While he was busy flipping through the pages you could not help yourself but eye him off discretely and what you saw was waking up the most basic instincts in you. He was wearing cotton tracksuit pants and a singlet in a thin functional material, that showed off his huge toned arms. The outline of his pecs and abs were visible through the thin fabric, you also noted he had powerful, strong thighs, as the fabric of the track pants was stretched at the thickest part of his thigh muscles. You could not help to throw a glance at his shapely glutes and strong hips. When you thought about it, he really had the appearance of some ancient warrior, a samurai maybe. You swallowed quietly, an action he caught you in the middle of.
‘Well, I am done here. I will be taking the rest of the afternoon off today, so I guess I will see you around sometime?’ He spoke.
You just could not let him disappear like this. You gathered your courage and asked
‘Would you have time for a quick coffee then? I changed my mind and will work out later today.’
He studied you for a moment and answered.
‘Why not, actually? I do have the whole day to myself. There is a good café nearby’
You nodded and the two of you started walking out of the gym, him courteously opening the door for you. Luckily, the café really was nearby. You were enjoying your coffee and the casual conversation, but when your fingers met when reaching out for napkins, the two of you went silent almost simultaneously. The truth was that all through the friendly, harmless exchange you were imagining fucking Yoriichi, riding his cock, and touching him in a way that was anything but just friendly. The look in his maroon eyes was starting to reveal something more as well now.
And maybe he could pick up on your feelings because the tension between the two of you was becoming palpable. You were soaking wet between your legs and your breathing was becoming heavy, your arousal was powerful: the contraction of the muscles of your vagina started to feel more and more like a rope being tightly twisted into a knot, and this sensation was now spreading up to your cervix making your insides feel like they were on fire.
He sucked in his lips before finally speaking up.
‘You know, I live just around the corner if you would like to have … some lunch with me.’
As if in a trance you answered
‘Yes, I would like that’
But you already knew what you really would like and sensed that this was something he would like as well…
As soon as you stepped into the elevator, he came closer to you and kissed your lips. Very lightly at first, but as soon as he felt you reciprocate the action, he drew you closer to him and the kiss became deeper, with tongues swirling deep in each other’s mouths. He was holding his hips away from yours for now, most likely due to an increasing hard-on, he was a gentleman after all, and did not want to impose that soon.
His hands were caressing your back and your body started tingling in pleasure. He was so big, you felt cradled and sheltered, and his warm smell was like a feast for your senses. The elevator reached his floor and he led you into his apartment. It was a bright and beautiful space, cradled in light from the large windows, decorated in oriental, presumably Japanese fashion, with tatamis, low large futon like sofas, beautiful prints of Sakura trees and diverse martial arts weaponry adorning the walls.
He closed the door behind him and swiftly had you up against the nearest wall. He lifted you by your buttocks and you wrapped your legs around his hips. All the while you were entangled in a passionate kiss. He lifted you up and started walking toward the bedroom. When he sat you down on the bed, you began to remove each other’s clothes. His body was even more magnificent naked, and the cock looked… huge. Almost uncomfortably huge.
Yoriichi started crawling on the bed and on top of you, his large body towering over you and making you gasp. His warmth, his smell, it was all so close to you and all you wanted was to drown in him, let him devour you and fuck you senseless. He lowered his hips so they were flush with yours between your legs and started rubbing your wet folds and clit. You were moaning in pleasure. With the other hand, he started massaging your breasts and playing with your hard nipples. You were arching your body and moaning shamelessly.
‘Please fuck me, I want to feel you inside me.’
He did not hesitate to fulfill your plea. Aligning the tip of his cock with the entrance to your sopping-wet pussy, he started to enter you.
He was big, almost too big for your small body to take. Slowly and steadily, he was prying his way into you. Every nerve in your core was pulsing, welcoming this new intruder with increasing wetness and spasming muscles. Your pussy was clenching on him so hard that he was quietly groaning while pushing on into you. He finally bottomed out and lifted himself off you slightly to meet your gaze. His gorgeous maroon eyes now clouded in pleasure, he said softly,
‘I will start moving now, do you feel ready?’
Did you ever… ‘Of course,’ was all you could say in a weak voice.
Slowly, at a languid pace, he began to rhythmically pump into you, his hips hitting yours every time he was bottoming out. You have never been this stretched out in your life, his girthy, long cock literally moulding your velvet walls to its shape, hitting your cervix with every slow pump. You were starting to edge, with the sensitive spots deep inside you being stimulated nearly constantly now. He kept on going like this for a while making your eyes roll to the back of your head and drool running down the side of your mouth.
‘Yoriichi, can you go a little faster? I am about to come’ you moaned out to him, as you could not control yourself any longer. The knot inside you running all the way from your opening to the tip of your cervix, was about to burst.
He picked up the pace and soon enough you were slowly dissolving into your climax, your whole body shaking and spasming from the intense pleasure you were gifted. You were so wet now, your cum seeping down your thighs onto Yoriichi. He shuffled himself up slightly and put you in a mating press. His cock was even deeper inside you, he started chasing his own release. His pace increased and soon it was ruthless and fast, abusing your cervix and every overstimulated spot deep inside you. You could feel his heavy balls slam into you with every powerful thrust. The man had the stamina of a god and went on in this unforgiving tempo for quite a while.
Gradually, his thrusts were getting sloppy and when he finally came, filling you up with his warm semen, he bottomed out deep inside you, his hips pushing you up toward the headrest of the bed and staying like this for a couple of seconds. He then pumped into you a few times, following the movement of his spasming abdomen muscles. When he stopped, he sank his head, still hovering over you supported on stretched-out straight arms. Sweat was running down his chest. He slowly rolled over on his back, taking you with him in an embrace that placed you laying down straight on top of him.
And that is when you noticed a presence in the room. You turned your head around towards the doorway and to your shock and surprise you saw your boyfriend stand there, leaning on the door frame with arms crossed and head tilted backwards in a brattish manner. His hair was out and cascading down his shoulder in black ringlets.
‘I hope I am not interrupting. Do you mind if I join in?’ He asked with a smirk. You instantly wondered how long he was there watching you and Yoriichi fucking.
‘Please do, unless y/n has some objections?’ Yoriichi said and tilted your head up to look at him. ‘Are you ok with this, y/n? ‘
‘I guess I don’t mind’ You did not really know what to say, your sex seemingly dictating your choices for you since last night.
‘Good, this will be fun.’ Muzan said and started to get undressed.
In the meantime, Yoriichi moved to his side and let you down on the soft mattress, so that you were on your side facing him. With an already erect dick bobbing in front of him, Muzan walked over to where you and Yoriichi were and crawled into bed to lie down behind you. He kissed and licked your neck, you could feel the metal of the piercing dragging on your soft skin, and grabbed one of your breasts, squeezing it gently, eliciting a quiet moan from your lips. He then leaned into your ear and with a deep, soft whisper asked:
‘How did you like him, doll? Was he big enough for you?’
He kept on kissing your neck and dragging the pierced tongue along it and massaging your body with his hand while pressing his erect cock in your soft ass. Yoriichi at the very same time started kissing your mouth and rubbing your breasts.
You did not think it was at this stage possible to get more aroused, but you did. Your pussy was aching so badly now, all you wanted was for the men to give it to you. Rough, fast however they wished to fuck you. You wanted to feel full, the craving growing for every minute making your insides burn with need. The sensation of both these attractive men being so close to you, their hands touching every part of your body, was making you feral, totally wild with anticipation. Seeing and feeling the athletic, tall, and big Yoriichi, with his smooth and glossy skin and your exotic-looking, tattoo-covered and pierced boyfriend so close to your own body was a sensation that was driving you crazy. It was almost as you were a goddess worshipped at the altar of lust.
‘How do you think we should proceed?’ Muzan asked Yoriichi in a playful tone.
‘Hmm, where we are is good, no offense, but I am the bigger one here, so I think it is best if you go in the backway’ Yoriichi answered.
Muzan sighed and smirked. ‘Good point, do you happen to have lube around here?’ Yoriichi stretched an arm behind him to reach under the bed and pulled out a bottle of anal lube.
‘You dirty fuck, this looks like you have been having some fun’ Muzan noted as the bottle was only half full.’ Yoriichi did not answer to that but his smile said it all.
While Yoriichi was working on your pussy and breasts, Muzan poured a fair bit of lube on your opening and started to massage your puckering hole. Slowly and gently, the sensation was so different from anything you ever experience before, but so delicious at the same time. He slowly pushed in a finger and was circling it gently. A second finger came in and he was scissoring them inside you. Yoriichi was now lining himself up to enter you again. His hard tip rubbing between your folds as Muzan added another finger and was whispering sweet, honey-glazed words in your ears in order to get you relaxed.
‘Be a good kitten for me now, such a gorgeous little obedient doll, I will spread that tight little ass for you and you will beg me for more’
The sweetness in his voice was almost demeaning. He kept on pumping his fingers in you, but you just could not relax.
‘Baby, I can’t do it. Not today. Can we do something else?’
Muzan pulled out his fingers out of you and nodded at Yoriichi
‘Well, doll, in such case you will have to take that huge dick of his down your throat, because I want to be in one of your holes, no matter what.’
You shifted to all four and Yoriichi knelt in front of you offering you his cock. You started licking the leaking tip and pumping the shaft with your small hand, barely getting a proper grip. In the meantime, Muzan positioned himself behind you and all of a sudden slammed his dick into you. This propelled you forward and you almost speared yourself on Yoriichi’s cock, swallowing nearly the entire length. He groaned from the sensation and you gagged heavily. Once the two of you adjusted positions so that you could comfortably work on his dick, Muzan started moving his hips into you again. You worked with the rhythm he was setting as there was no use trying to stay still and resisting his movement from pushing you forward. Every time his hips slammed into you, you sank your mouth over Yoriichi’s cock and you continued like this for a good while.
Your mouth and throat were stretched almost to the brink of discomfort from the huge girth and length. The pleasure you felt from Muzan repeatedly hitting your g-spot was making you moan louder and louder and your moans were sending vibrations through Yoriichi’s dick making it twitch and grow.
‘I’m going to come soon’ he groaned.
He pulled out of you, gave his cock a few pumps and unloaded the content of his balls in your face, warm cum spraying into your open mouth and down your chin and throat. Neither you nor Muzan were far off from your orgasms either. It took a few more fast thrusts from him to make your knot burst and you reaching your release. And a few more thrusts later and Muzan was spraying his cum into your still fluttering walls. The amount of pleasure you experience this afternoon was overwhelming and you collapsed exhausted, but utterly satisfied on the mattress.
Yoriichi got up and came back with a few towels. He helped you clean up your face and handed a towel to Muzan who then cleaned you and yourself up. Yoriichi was the first one to go to the bathroom and have a shower and after him, it was Muzan’s turn. Once the two men were decent again, Yoriichi informed you that they would prepare lunch so that you would have some time to yourself to recover and relax. You spent half an hour in the bedroom and went out to them, still in a complete state of confusion.
‘Hi there. I hope you are hungry.’ Yoriichi said.
‘I seem to have cooked too much pasta, but hey, we need the energy’ he grinned broadly. ‘By the way, I think you owe your lovely girlfriend an explanation’ he said turning to Muzan.
‘Yes, you are right. It is about time to clarify the situation. Sorry to have confused you and sorry for the bit with Amber, I might have gone a bit too far there. You know when I got up to get the drinks at the party? I noticed that you were eyeing off Yoriichi for a while, and out of the blue, and boredom, I came up with a wicked little plan. Something to shake you up and make you more, adventurous. I really wanted to get you out of your shell. So, I texted him quickly what I had in mind and off we went. I am storyteller, after all.’
You turned to Yoriichi, slightly disappointed
‘So… you were not really attracted to me, hey? It was just a game?’
Yoriichi responded ‘Oh no, not at all. Muzan showed me picturess of you many times before and I must say I was envious of him being with someone so smart, kind, and attractive. So, when he suggested this, the idea went straight to my dick.’
Muzan now continued: ‘Amber, that girl, by the way, is a porn actress and married to a friend of mine. They own an adult movie production company together and I have known them both for a while. But back to the story. As I said, I wanted you to see that there is so much more to life than being a prude, that sex is one of the most indulgent pleasures gifted upon mankind and not immersing ourselves fully in that gift is, well, a sin in my eyes.'
'I do believe that deep emotional love, a connection of souls runs deeper than any physical connection ever can. We are all animals and sex is dirty and amazing at the same time, the ultimate tool to express love, yes, but love can exist without it if you know what I mean. I will love you forever, for all eternity. I believe we are soulmates and we are connected and will always be drawn to each other in every world we are born into. Even if we never have sex again, I want you to be mine and mine only. When you want kids and a house with a white picket fence or whatever dream you may have, we will do it, of course. But for now, while we still are young let us indulge in what this carnal world has to offer. I want you to lose all restraints, and fulfill all your desires. When I saw you looking at our glorious friend here, I knew that if that is what you are into, I will make sure you get what you desire.’
When Muzan finally went quiet, it was Yoriichi’s turn to speak and he suddenly went serious.
‘I have known Muzan for a long time, but our friendship blossomed after my wife died. He was there for me all the way through my lowest. And believe me, it was an epic low. She was pregnant with what was to be our first child when she died in a car crash. Some drunken asshole drove into her car on the highway. My beloved wife and I started the gym and later the martial arts dojo together. These were our passions and I will never love anyone like I loved her ever again. All I have left is the gym and dojo and they are like babies to me. I am no monk and need sex, a lot of it, but only for recreation.’
All the time Yoriichi was speaking, Muzan held his arm around your back, his embrace tightening when Yoriichi mentioned the tragic story of his marriage.
‘Well, enough of the seriousness. Let us eat’ Yoriichi interrupted himself now.
You could not help to notice, that he was not the best of cooks, the pasta was slightly overcooked and the sauce too salty, but it was a sweet gesture of him to cook for his friends and by the way you were starving after everything that was happening for the past twenty-four hours. The wine he served with lunch was on the other hand fantastic and after a couple of glasses, the warm, fuzzy feeling of slowly getting tipsy was putting you in a relaxed state.
Looking at the two amazing men, you now started to understand what your boyfriend was talking about and wanted for you all the way. The normal scenario would involve you having to choose one of them, there would be drama, heart-brake and the euphoria of new love would eventually dim by the negative effects of it all. Thanks to Muzan’s approach, however, you never needed to choose now. The love the two of you shared was just as he described, transcending space and time. But the basic, carnal desire you felt for Yoriichi was also real. Being able to have it all, and more… was indeed the best you could ever wish for. Assured in this new discovery, you closed your eyes and let yourself daydream now finally receptive to visualise desires without any more restraints…
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Banners by @cafekitsune
Tagging: @doumadono @muzanbloodgalore @muzansfangs @horror4themasses @cursetopia2 @anarcho-satanism
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"Stupid" Things the TWST Cast Believed As Kids
I was going to post this without a preamble but it just looked wrong LMAO -----------------------------------------------------
Heartslaybul
Riddle - He just mispronounced a lot of words out loud. This is actually common in a lot of kids that read a lot, they don't know how to say a word any differently than the way they've pronounced it in their head, so some examples: (Ladle -> would rhyme with Saddle, Rhythm had over-emphasis on the first 'h', etc.)
Trey - thought butter was made from the fat collected off of cow butts ('butt' was also the only 'naughty' word he knew for a long time). The thing is he had probably seen his parents make butter. either by accident or on purpose and it still didn't click for him.
Cater - only ate black beans, (when they were served). when he was a kid because he thought they were the same as coffee beans. He saw his dad eating chocolate covered coffee beans and got mad when he denied him the Delight Of Caffeine at Three Years Old so thought eating black beans was like. A super sneaky way of being like his dad.
Deuce - Chocolate covered strawberries came from a special plant, he didn't think his mom just set them up for him sometimes. He ended up asking more than a few times when his strawberries were plain when they could 'go back to the store and get the good kind' and would call the strawberries without chocolate 'rotten'.
Ace - For whatever reason, he didn't think bears were a real animal. Just. Teddy bears existed. And of course when his big brother showed him pictures of real bears he thought he was messing with him. Ace will not admit how long it took him to realize that bears are real.
Savannaclaw
Leona - Falena told him once that vanilla extract comes from 'beaver butt juice' and it was in all the vanilla flavoured desserts he's ever had. Yes Falena was messing with him to get his portion of desserts because Leona was too grossed out to eat them. It managed to last about 6 months before Leona was fed up and researched the information on his own.
Ruggie - His grandma protected him best she could from food scarcity, so he genuinely believed she knew how to make something from nothing. Same with his clothes.
Jack - Refused to eat hotdogs because he thought they were made from real dogs and cried whenever he saw someone else eating hot dogs. Even when they bough turkey hot dogs he thought they added 'turkey flavouring' to the Dogs.
Octavinelle
Azul - Thought cuttlefish were 'cuddlefish' and would get so SO upset when they didn't want to snuggle with him
Jade - When he first heard the word 'hermaphrodite' he thought it meant someone who just really really liked hermit crabs.
Floyd - Was SO disappointed to find out ice cream didn't scream while you eat it (I-scream)
Scarabia
Kalim - Used to try and eat really fast, so Jamil told him if he ate his food too hot his tongue would melt to the top of his mouth. (Yeah Jamil got in trouble for that one but it worked, Kalim savoured his food and he still makes sure his food is cooled down a little before he eats).
Jamil - Didn't eat yogurt for a long time because he didn't want to 'feed the bacteria in his belly'. That was his only reasoning.
Pomefiore
Vil - thought candy cigarettes were real cigarettes, this resulted in him biting one of his dad's or fellow actor's cigarettes and Regretting it. (Even the fake ones are filled with like an herbal blend, you don't want to eat it still)
Rook - kinda sad, but genuinely thought termites were considered dessert. They were fairly rampant in his home so he would eat them any chance he got (raw termites supposedly taste like pineapple).
Epel - yeah he thought he was a werewolf, there isn't much else to add.
Ignihyde
Idia - Thought that microwaving a spider/other bugs for a very short amount of time would mutate their DNA and he could keep it as a pet, despite many failed attempts, he continued trying.
Ortho - (insert ugly crying here thinking about baby boys early years) he really believed that one day Idia would find a way to bring the characters from tv/video games into 'real life' so they could have play dates with them. (Idia promised him he would try his best)
Diasomnia
Malleus - He thought computers were a type of pet people could have.
Lilia - Used to think that the stars were really big glow bugs
Silver - Fully believed the storks deliver babies thing. Not because of Lilia, but because of a story book and it made things easy so he just rolled with it anyways, until Silver was old enough.
Sebek - That the fountain of youth was real - he wanted to drink from it once he reached his prime so that he could serve Malleus always.
Others
Che'nya - Refused to believe that gum ever came from trees because he 'tried sap before and it didn't even taste like syrup so how could something sweet as gum come from trees'.
Najma - Thought she was able to talk to ghosts, it was just Jamil fucking with her lskjfhsldkjfsdf
Neige - Didn't know what owls were, called them tree penguins.
Rollo - Called ambulances 'Body Rescue Busses' because even as a kid he knew only God could save your soul. (you can take that seriously or as satire idc) -------------------------------------------------------- @fluffle-writes thank you for the compliments, and the motivation to write!! ljfkjdshflkjsdf
If you want to be on a taglist in the future lmk
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thegeekstressart · 1 year ago
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Who hasn’t dreamed of their own wings?
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I can’t believe they’re done, and I made them! I bought this crochet pattern by Crafty Intentions on Etsy a year ago because I stumbled across it and wanted my own wing shawl so badly!
Only one problem: I didn’t know how to crochet.
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And so the PDF sat in my inbox for an entire year.
Then, earlier this summer I finally got around to teaching myself the basics of crochet and how to read a pattern.
This is my second crochet project following a pattern 😬 - that’s what hyper focus and a dream will do for you!
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I used a wool and acrylic blend, worsted weight yarn in three different shades of brown.
This pattern was fantastic. Each feather felt like an accomplishment, and everything was so well explained, it came together just naturally. All in I think it took around 50 hours over 3 weeks.
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The wings are over 6’ long! And the bottom two rows of feathers are bordered with single crochet in the color of the row above it. I didn’t border the top row.
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I love how they came out, it’s wonderfully heavy and I feel like some sort of great owl witch in it which is a vibe I can get behind.
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Also many thanks to my 5yo for the photoshoot and taking these great pictures of mama! ❤️
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cutiecusp · 4 months ago
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Viral.
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What happens when a simple scroll on TikTok leads you to something unexpected?
a/n i wrote this at 3 a.m. today, and after a little adjusting, I'm happy with it. I love the idea of a confident Simon Riley, using his Ghost persona to satisfy a little fantasy or two. Especially if he got to know you, the newest recruit a little better.
TW/ Kissing, smut so MDNI!
Lying on your bunk after a long day, you find yourself doom scrolling on TikTok, navigating your way through recipes, cat videos and pranks, when a biker in a black leather jacket and dark helmet catches your eye.
As usual, the comments are full of thirst posts, proclamations of marriage, one night stands and more. You raise an eyebrow at some of them, incredulous at some others.
He was simply putting his gloves on, while straddling his bike, his visor flipped down, adding to the mystery. The Sleep Token song that played over it fully caught your attention.
The filter over the video made the skeleton print of his gloves stand out against the dark of the leather... very similar to the gloves your lieutenant wears.
Your breath hitches in your throat as you zoom in on his body, looking for something that could identify him more, and you spot it, a small Soap charm on his laces, one you all collected after London.
Your eyes widen.
This man doing thirst traps on BikeTok was your boss.
You refresh the page, and hide your face in your sleeve. How could you act normal around him now?
A live notification pops up at the top of your screen, and shakily you click on it.
There he is, Simon Riley.
All black leather and mystery as he leans into the shot. He has a mic tagged in his collar, and you would know that voice anywhere.
He's outside on the airstrip of the base, you knew he liked to ride out there between deployments, normally kept himself to himself, but now you knew better.
His voice rang out clear, and you almost dropped your phone.
"Welcome in Nya, hello again gorgeous Dolly, Hey Cosplay Queen.."
He pauses, his head tilted.
"We have a new member, hello you." His voice rich, like honey, travelled down your spine.
"Glad to have you here, first times are awkward, I'll be gentle." he teases, watching the hearts collect in the corner of the screen.
By this point you have a death grip on your phone, too stunned to speak. Did he know it was you, you?
You throw out a heart emoji, hoping to blend in a little. You eyes glued to the screen. He was so different to his work version. He was relaxed, cocky, funny... Not the cold and distant lieutenant.
The live goes on for a few minutes, before he logs off for the night. Blowing a kiss, the screen goes black, and you blink again. What on earth was happening?
You put your phone down and begin to get ready for the night, shaking off the imaginary lust dust that flittered over you. Urging yourself to breathe, and not think about the fact your boss was turning you on.
You heart bobbed in the back of your throat when you heard Simons bike return to the barracks, the headlight shining bright in the darkness.
You hold your breath as you hear his footsteps along the corridor, the squeak of the leather and metallic zip undoing are the loudest noises on base. You squeeze your eyes shut as the heavy footsteps stall outside of your door.
Three knocks ring out, forcing your eyes open. He knows. You think to yourself.
You force yourself on jelly legs to answer the door, a smile that doesn't quite meet your eyes.
"Ghost, you okay?" You stammer out, mentally kicking yourself for sounding so obvious.
"You tell me, love." He says gruffly, forcing his way into the room, placing his helmet on your desk.
You squeak at the same time he spots your phone, your screen still open on his page.
"Naughty little thing, aren't you. Thirsting over your boss on TikTok what does it for you, love? The bike, the helmet, the appeal?"
your cheeks redden, and he steps closer to you, closing the gap between you both. Gripping your chin with his fingers, he forces you to look at him.
"Not a word to anyone else, love."
Eyes wide, you nod.
And he presses his lips to yours softly, sealing your secret.
........................................................................................
@xoxunhinged @muneca-lemon-steppa @livingoutsidethetardis @gardenof-venus @misshugs @soraya-daydreams @frudoo @azxulaa @yesornowaitidontknow @enjisbf @thevoiceinyourheadx @shadowdark00 @rynbeerose @lunamoonbby @incredible-walker @identity2212 @pukbadger @urbimom @corvid007 @wordsfromshona @shadows-empress @m00xy @canyonmooncreations @evie-119 @cmbghost @midwesternwitchery
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letshavedeernnertogether · 7 months ago
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Sleepyhead, part one
the plot is: you feel yourself very sleepy all the time, and alastor finds it adorable
part one, part two, part three, part four
tw: none, it's just cute
*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆
You felt cold. Your eyelashes trembled, you frowned and opened your eyes. Bloody red firmament was the first thing you saw, as you were lying on the ground. A bright pentagram crossed the sky, thin clouds flouted across it, and it looked like a piece of meat. There was a glaringly white spot in the left side, which you took for the sun at first, but then you thought it looked more like a planet. A planet with wings. You tried to find the sun or a moon, but in vain. You couldn't tell if it was day or night. A specific pungent smell hit your nose. The smell was extremely bad and you didn't even want to know what had caused it.
You sat up, slowly got to your feet and looked around: a desert with black sand and dead small trees. There was a city ahead. It was densely dotted with skyscrapers and simply high-rise buildings. You headed for it straight away.
You felt utter drowse, it was so strong, you walked some part of the way with your eyes closed. A minute couldn't pass without you yawning. You slowly moved your legs, staggering side to side, getting closer to the unknown city.
You thought it was a dream. A strange one, but very realistic. Last thing you remembered was that you were lying in your bed trying to fall asleep. Usually it never posed you any problems, but that time was different. You barely could lie just in one position, barely could keep your eyes closed, barely felt drowse.
And now you were extremely sleepy. All you wanted to do was lie down on the hot sand and sleep. But nevertheless you continued your way.
Getting closer, you saw a high building on the hill just in the border of the city. You descried a neon sign on the roof of the building: "Hazbin Hotel". So, there was a refuge in such a strange place that looked like hell. You had no money in the pockets of your pyjamas, of course, but you hoped, you would be let to stay for a night in the smallest room under the stairs for free.
The closer you reached the city, the louder became screams and explosions, like a war was waged in the city. In normal situation you would feel fear, but it was a dream, so why should you be afraid?
You stood in front of a street-door with strained-glass windows depicting apples, snakes and eyes. Yawning one more time, you opened the door and entered.
* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *
Honeyed soft light of old chandeliers flooded the hotel lobby. A red carpet covered the floor and the birfucated stairs. On the walls with difficult pattern, in which you recognized snakes, hung many painting. It was quiet. Only rustle of your steps on the soft carpet broke the silence. Suddenly you heard a quiet jazz melody somewhere from the left. You turned your head to the side and saw a big black cat at the bar. A cat with wings. And moreover he had a top hat and a red bow tie on his white chest. He was on the place of a barman and poured alcohol in a glass for himself.
Yeah, what a strange dream you had, but the strangest thing was that you couldn't wake up. Usually, when you understood that you were in a dream you immediately woke up. But now you couldn't.
The cat noticed you and looked at you. His stare was vacant, and you understood he was drunk. If a cat could drink, than he could speak too, right? You came up to the bar and asked,
"Excums me, is this a hotel? The Hazbin hotel?"
The cat blinked twice and answered in the affirmative. His voice was deep and low. It reminded black velvet.
"How can I get a room here?"
"Do you want a room?" He frowned. He was looking at you with a blend of suspicon and disbelief.
"Yeah... This is the hotel, isn't it?" You placed your hands at the counter, "Where is reception?"
A slowly saxophone melody hovered between you, making this conversation more surreal.
The cat poured an amber-coloured liquid in his glass, drank it, looked at you again and smirked.
"So, you wanna be redeemed?"
You were irritated at this question. What it did actually mean? You just wanted to sleep, you wanted it so bad, you could kill for having a chance to take to bed.
"I just want a room," You said, gritted your teeth.
"So you don't know?" He said without hiding his smile.
The cat started to dust the counter, and as you didn't answer anything, he continued,
"This is not just a hotel. Living here ain't the main point. The princess of hell founded it on to give all the sinners a chance to get a redemption and go to heaven. So, you're welcome here, but only if you want be better." He glanced at you with a mocking sparkle in his eyes. A smile played at a corner of his mouth. It was clear, that he just repeated the words, he heard million times before, from a host of the hotel maybe, and it seemed funny to him. But not for you. What was the point of all of this? Nevertheless, you needed a room and you wanted to get it by all costs.
"I wouldn't be mind to be better... And to be redeemed," You said seriously. If it could bring you to bed...
"Oh, really?" He raised his red eyebrows, which seemed to be feathers.
Suddenly a high female voice exclaimed from the stairs, "Vaggie, I tell you, someone has come! I saw them in the window!"
You turned to the voice and saw two young women. They noticed you too and opened their eyes in surprise. One of them, a tall, ruddy-cheecked blonde in red jacket and the same colour trousers, smiled widely, showing her white sharp fangs. The other one, with grey skin and white long hair, frowned and took out a spear from somewhere.
They two quickly went down to you, but the blonde was much faster, and as she appeared towards you, she took your hands,
"Welcome!!! I'm Charlie, the founder of this hotel! I'm so glad you've come here!" She was so happy, you wouldn't been surprised, if she'd exploded with sparkles and spangles.
"I'm (Y/n)."
"What a beautiful name! Fits you so well!"
The other girl came up to you, still holding the spear, but not going to attack, "Charlie, we don't even know why they had came here. Maybe they've lost."
"I haven't actually lost. I'm here to redeem." You said loudly. You heard Charlie, she said she was the founder of this place, so it depended on her, whether would you stay here for a night. And also you remembered what that cat told you. The princess of hell founded it on. So you decided to be polite with this young woman. You didn't want to have an enemy in the face of the princess of hell even in your dream.
After your words were said the smile on the Charlie's face grew even bigger, her eyes filled with tears, and she pressed you to her chest in a tight embrace.
"I'm so so so so so so so glaaaaaad!"
"I would be glad too," You barely moaned in her firm hug, "but I'm afraid you'll rather strangle me."
"Uh, sorry!" She let you go straight away.
Charlie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "It's not like... Well, I mean, it's not that this place is very unpopular or avoided, but it's like not everyday somebody comes here..." Her shoulders slumped and you saw sadness in her eyes. Vaggie gently put her hand on Charlie's shoulder with a soft smile, "Charlie..."
The young woman looked at her and a wide smile shone on her face again.
"Anyway," She said to you, "Welcome to hell! And to Hazbin Hotel! So you can be welcomed lately in heaven!" She almost sang the last word.
Hell? So you understood all rightly. It was hell. A dream about a hotel in hell. Well, why not? Maybe when you'd wake up you should write a book about it?
"Hell?" You asked.
"Yes! You're a new one here, I believe?"
You unsurely nodded. Somehow you started to doubt that it was only a dream. You felt cold. After all it was too real. You could swear you had never heard that jazz melody from the radio, you smelled Charlie's apple perfume, you felt her embrace, and you were sleepy like you were kissed by Mortheus himself. But people don't feel themselves sleepy in their dreams, do they?
But to be in hell you must to be dead. Were you dead?
"Am I dead?" You felt cold inside of you, but it didn't help you to overcome another yawn.
Charlie and Vaggie looked at you with sympathy.
"Yeeaaahhh, you are, I'm very sorry," Said Charlie with an apologetic smile.
You tried to remember, what had happened before you opened your eyes and saw the red sky.
You spent your whole day in your bed, daydreaming, reading books and sleeping. Just like always. You spent your whole life avoiding reality. Fantasies, fictions, daydreams were the only refuge from the horrors of the world you lived in.
"I thought I was too young to die during the sleep..." You pronounced.
Charlie covered her mouth with her palm, "Oh! This must be very... Sudden for you."
"Look at this from the other side. You didn't suffer," Said Vaggie.
You yawned very widely. Yes, you didn't suffer when you died, but now you were probably cursed to never have enough of sleep.
"May I get a room?" You were so tired. What's the matter thinking about your death. It was more important to find a bed. You could think about your death and curse later.
Charlie glanced at you.
"Oh, damn, yes, sure! It's very late already, and of course you need a room!"
"Thank you," You smiled. Getting a bed had never been so difficult.
Charlie took a key from the cell near the empty one, and you three, Charlie, Vaggie and you, headed for the stairs. You glanced back to look at the barcat again. He raised his glass, looking at you, like he was drinking to you. You turned away and asked Charlie about him.
Charlie stopped and exclaimed, "Oh, shit, I absolutely forgot about it! We need to make a tour around the hotel!"
"Charlie," Said Vaggie, "We can do it tomorrow. I'm afraid, our new guest is about to fall asleep in any moment."
"You right." You took the key out from Charlie's hand and turned away.
"What are you doing?" Exclaimed Charlie.
Still going forward you turned your head to Charlie and said, "I'm very grateful for both of you, really," You stopped, "but now I just want to be alone" To sleep, you thought, "to accept the fact I'm dead now," You said. "It's not hard to find a right room, when I know the floor and the number, so don't worry, I can handle it. Good night, girls!" You waved your hand and disappeared in shadowed corridor.
* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *
You slowly walked forward along the corridor. It seemed endless, though you turned time after time to the left or right. Art Deco lamps glowed dimly, filling the place with an amber light. Sometimes golden candlesticks hung on the walls instead of lamps. There were candles on them; they burned, but wax didn't drip from them. The walls were crimson, and so was the carpet. Although the corridor and the entire hotel were buried in warm colours, goosebumps ran down your skin. Especially in this quiet and dark corridor. It seemed that this place was uninhabited. But judging by the number of empty cells for keys at the reception, at least six or seven people lived here. “Maybe they just opened recently?” You thought yawning again.
You turned to the left again and went up one floor. Here, on one of the upper floors, your room was supposed to be.
Suddenly you heard a melody. You stopped and listened. A piano sounded off quietly and melancholy somewhere in the distance. Music led you forward. You walked past the room with your number. The melody became louder, and now you heard singing. A male voice sang some old song in French. You stopped for a second and then went further.
The lights flickered, and you heard something, what sounded like a crackling radio. You turned to the right and realized, that the melody was coming from the far door on the right. You stopped in front of this door. The sound wasn't clear, like someone was listening to an old radio or gramophone. You leaned your back against the door and began to listen. It was a beautiful and very old song. The melody lulled you. The man’s voice was so beautiful and bewitching, that you forgot all your worries, and drowsiness enveloped you again. But now the feeling of sleep did not press on you, did not suffocate you, sleep gently hugged you by the shoulders and let you rest your tired head on its chest. You felt cosiness and comfort. What a beautiful song... What a beautiful voice... The refrain began, and the voice became louder. You closed your eyes and slowly sank onto the carpet.
* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *
Alastor took his hands away from the piano and turned his head to the door. Someone had been standing behind it for several minutes already. How dare they? He immediately felt their presence but did nothing, hoping they'd leave. But no.
Alastor stood up, took a sip of water to moisten the throat after the long singing, and headed for the door. The was silence. He expected he would hear the steps running away, because now it was obviously, that he knew they were there and they'd disturbed him. So it was better for them to make off. But there was silence.
Alastor opened the door and saw nothing. Something fell at his feet. He looked down and saw the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
A young lady lay at his feet. Her skin was velvet black as night sky and starred. Milliards of tiny stars shone on her arms, hands, and neck. Her hair was glaringly white and fluffy as a cloud. The hair shone with soft moon-like light in the candlelit room. She was wearing a silver pajamas with a pattern of little moons. The night herself, he was captivated with her.
Alastor knelt down in front of you and gently put hair from your face. It shimmered with tiny stars just like all of your body. Your face was calm, you slept well. Your chest slowly upped and downed with every breath.
Alastor studied you just with his eyes. How did you end up here? You didn't look like a demon — too beautiful, but you weren't an angel either — too nocturnal.
Alastor noticed that you had something in your hand. He carefully unclenched your fingers and saw a key. So, a new guest? And living so close to him?
Alastor smirked to his thoughts.
"There's no way you'll sleep on the floor, my dear," He wispered.
He took you in his arms and left the room.
You pressed your head to his shoulder and wispered something. You were light as a feather. Alastor headed for the room with the number that was on the key in your hand. You yawned in sleep, and wispered something again, that made Alastor softly chuckle.
He made the door of your room opened and he entered. Alastor put you to bed and wanted to straightened up, but your hands embraced his neck. He leaned on his hands and hung over you so as not to fall.
On your eyelids he saw a big amount of stars and violet fog, like a little universe slowly whirled on your eyes.
Your hands slipped from his neck, but Alastor stayed still. Then he sat next to you. His hand ran through your hair.
"Suppose I am the guard of your dreams now?" Said Alastor to himself.
*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆
You woke up, yawning widely and stretching yourself. You thought, that you had never had such a good sleep. But then you opened your eyes and found yourself in an unfamiliar place. It was a bedroom, quite big and beautiful bedroom in violet, blue and silver colours. You looked at your hands: black and starred, just like yesterday. So you still was in hell, still dead. Or was it better to say, already?
You yawned again and got out of your bed. In the bathroom you saw new you. "Night" was your first thought. Maybe spending your whole life in sleep was a sin, because you once heard, that despondency, that led you to daydreams, was a deadly sin... And moreover you died in the middle of the night during your sleep. Could it be the reason why you looked like a daughter of Nyx?
In a wardrobe you found a big amount of clothes that suited you just perfect. Not only in your size, but it also suited to your appearance. There were a grey pinstriped suit, long skirts, warm sweaters, shirts. All was in dark blue, silver or black colours. You found a lot of different ties and bow ties, kerchieves, gloves. Somebody did a good job with your wardrobe. You changed clothes and only now noticed the clock above the bed. It was a midday already. You hastened to leave your room.
* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *
Walking down the main stairs you heard Charlie's voice.
"Here you are, (Y/n)! Good morning! or good afternoon already... Nevermind!" She waved her hand, "You can go to the dinning room and have breakfast. I asked Alastor to cook another helping. He was surprised that we have a new guest hahaha! And after you finishing your meal, go back here, we're going to do some exercises," Charlie looked to the side, where several demons were sitting, "and we will do it together!"
Last words she said with a forced smile, almost growling. Apparently, someone didn’t want to do these exercises together. You saw yesterday's cat among them.
After finishing breakfast (oh, how delicious it was) you went to the living room, where all the residents had already gathered.
You were introduced to the demons in front of you. Niffty was a maid, she gave you a cute smile, but you noticed a sharp big knife in her hand. Nobody seemed to care about it, so didn't you.
Angel Dust, the spider, winked at you with a smile. He was the first resident of this hotel.
Husk, the cat demon, he was a barman. He nodded you, when Charlie said his name to you.
And Sir Pentious, another resident. He smiled to you, and his smile seemed the most warm and not assumed.
"And where is Alastor?" Said Charlie looking around, "Oh, asked him to come and join us."
You saw a big shadow behind her. It took a shape of a tall man with a cane, and he appeared.
"Alastor," You guessed. This name suited him, it had something devilish in its sound, and it sorted well with his appearance. Especially with his ear-to-ear smile with big sharp yellow teeth. A thought of being bitten by him fleeted your mind, but you shook your head.
"Alalstor, this is our new guest, (Y/n)!" Said Charlie with a big smile, pointing with her two hands at you.
Alalstor came up to you and gave you a hand, "It's a pleasure to be meeting you, dear!"
You shook hands.
His voice seemed familiar to you, but you couldn't understand why. He spoke with transatlantic accent and with radio sound. It was strange, but you liked how it sounded.
"Well, let's begin our exercises. All" Said Charlie, growling on the last word again. Angel Dust rolled up his eyes.
You sat on a couch near Alastor. In front of you on other couch sat Angel and Husk. Vaggie stood near Charlie, who was explaining the rules of to-redeem-game. Sir Pentious sat on the floor near Husk, and Niffty, the maid, sat on the arm of the couch near Alastor.
At first you tried to listen to Charlie, to all her explanations why it was so important to be honest, and how the following exercise would teach you to trust each other and to be frank. But somehow you couldn't keep your eyes opened anymore and you hadn't noticed how you fallen asleep.
* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *
Angel poked Husk with his elbow and said, "Are my eyes deceiving me?"
Husk had been watching in the same direction for four minutes already and still couldn't believe in what he saw.
"What d'ya think? How long does she have left?"
"No more than thirty seconds, when she wakes," Husk replied phlegmatically.
"What? What are you looking at?" Asked Charlie throwing her hands. These two hadn't listened to her for several minutes and just stared at one point.
At the same time Angel and Husk pointed out the direction, where you were sitting. Charlie turned back and saw Alastor and you, putting your head on his shoulder. You were sleeping.
Everybody was staring in confusion at you and Alastor. Nobody had noticed, when you fell asleep and leaned against Alastor. He didn't understand at first what was that. Just something restet against his shoulder. And when he glanced down right, he saw your crown.
And he didn't dare move.
Charlie opened her mouth to say something, but Alastor interrupted her, "Shh... Don't you see, our new guest is resting?"
Nobody could understand what was hidden behind his sly smile and this half closed eyes.
You lifted your head a little to make yourself more comfortable, and then you tried to bury your face in his arm but slipped off.
You opened your eyes and saw wide smiling face with red glowing eyes leaning over you. Alastor looked down at you. The light of a chandelier behind his head looked like a halo. It was a strange combination with his antlers and deer ears. His red eyes shone and his yellow teeth seemed did the same.
Suddenly you understood why he was looking down on you, and why you saw ceiling behind him. You were lying on his knees.
You quickly sat up, almost hit his head, and began to apologize.
"Hahaha" Alastor laughed, "don't worry, my dear, I know a great method to deal with sleepiness." He stood up and said without looking back at you, "Follow me."
Only now you noticed that all the residents were staring at you, someone with their eyes wide opened, someone with a smirk. You apologized and followed Alastor.
* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *
While Alastor was making coffee for you, you were watching him, sitting at a table, resting your head on your arm. This man was extremely tall, his movements were elegant but a little bit too sharp. The kitchen filled with coffee aroma.
You were following his movements, when he said, "It's oddly, dear, that fourteen hours of sleep were not enough for you."
"How do you know, how long I slept?"
He chuckled, "I know not only when you fell asleep, my dear, but also when you ended up in bed."
He turned to you with a mug of hot coffee in his hand. He came up to you and put the mug on the table. There was an inscription: "Sleepaholic."
Yeah, how funny.
You looked up at Alastor. He was smiling as always. His voice, these words he said, the fact you didn't remember how you got to your bed...
"Did I..? Did I yesterday..?" You began hesitatingly. You didn't want to say it aloud, hoping that Alastor would finish your sentence. But he was silent. He glanced at you, obviously enjoying with your confusion.
"Did I fall asleep at your door yesterday?" You said very quickly.
"You did," He answered with a satisfied smile and leaned closer to you, "Drink it, dear, I don't need another body of a somnabulist at my threshold."
You quickly drank the strongest coffee you'd ever had, and you two returned to the living-room
* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *
As you were sitting on the couch near Alastor, and Charlie was leading the exercises, you felt boredom suddenly, and your eyes began to close. You opened them wider and tried to focus on what Charlie was saying, but you could no longer understand anything. You covered your eyes and remembered the yesterday's evening. That song played in your head again. It was so beautiful, so charming... And it was sang by the man, who was sitting next to you right now.
You opened your eyes and looked at Alastor with a tired gaze. Angel answered something to Charlie, but you didn’t listen. You idly and yet with curiosity looked over Alastor from head to toe. Despite his sinister and dark spirit, that you felt in him, you couldn't deny that you were attracted to him. His charm was beguiling, it's true.
You covered your eyes again and turned away. You didn't notice how Alastor quietly moved closer to you.
"I think, coffee doesn't work on me," You mumbled.
"Hmm?" Alastor leaned closer to hear what you said, but you didn't repeat your words.
Your eyes closed again and you saw him, making coffee for you. You felt that bitter smell again. Then you saw his face, the moment when you woke up on his knees. The vision disappeared and you saw Alastor carrying you into your room in his arms. The piano sounded in your head again and you felt rocking, as if you were a baby in your mother's arms, being sung to in a lullaby. You felt something in right side of you and leaned against it. A soft fabric touched your face, you felt a bitter-salty scent mixed with fur and forest smell. You felt warmth.
In your dream you lay on bed and were kept in warmth in someone's arms. You breathed in the same smell. Somebody patted your head and you felt someone's breath on your crown. An old song was playing on a radio; it drowned in static.
* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *
Charlie stopped talking and looked in your direction. So did everybody.
You were sleeping on Alastor's shoulder again, cuddling very close up to him and embracing his forearm. He was looking at you with the softest gaze everyone had ever seen on him. He patted your head and said not taking his eyes off you, "Our guest is indeed a sleepyhead."
He looked up at everyone, "Don't you dare to disturb her, for I will make everyone of you fall into eternal sleep," His eyes turned into radio dials, his voice became lower and more static, "unable to wake up from the nightmare I cause."
You cuddled closer to Alastor and smiled in sleep. He backed to his normal form again. A quiet old melody played from his staff.
Charlie broke the silence, "Uhh, okay..." She said with a forced smile.
Alastor glanced at her, and then embraced you, and you both sank into the shadow.
*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆
@noraunor
630 notes · View notes
glittervame · 2 months ago
Text
Your mine
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Based off of this fanfic Billy <3
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The warmth of the summer had finally given way to the briskness of early autumn as Y/n stepped off the Hogwarts Express, her eyes scanning the platform for her friends. She had returned to the castle, feeling a peculiar blend of excitement and nervousness for her sixth year. It wasn't just the thrill of new classes or the anticipation of the latest Quidditch tournaments that filled her; it was the secret she had been carrying with her all summer long. Her body was a canvas, adorned with fresh ink, each tattoo telling a story of her life or memories with her friends.
Her hair had grown out over the months, cascading in gentle waves down her back, and her skin glowed with a subtle tan from countless hours spent outdoors.
As she made her way through the throngs of students, her heart skipped a beat when she spotted Mattheo. His eyes lit up with recognition and he broke into a wide smile, rushing over to envelop her in a tight embrace. He had grown a bit taller over the summer, his frame more muscular and his features more defined, but it was his kind eyes that held her attention as they searched hers.
"You're back!" he exclaimed, his voice a familiar comfort. "I've missed you so much!"
Y/n blushed, returning his smile. "Missed you too," she murmured, feeling the warmth of his body pressed against hers. They had been together for three years now, and every moment apart felt like an eternity.
Mattheo's eyes began to rove over her, taking in her new look. He noticed the way her robes hung differently, the hint of new ink peeking out from her collar and wrists.
The tattoos have been a part of her body since she was allowed to enter a tattoo shop with a parent's signature. New ones would pop up during their holiday breaks and they quickly became a defining feature alongside her beauty.
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Mattheo's dorm room is a cozy and slightly messy haven filled with the scent of old books, faint notes of incense, and the occasional waft of takeout. The walls are adorned with posters of his favorite bands and artists, while the floor is scattered with clothes, empty soda cans, and textbooks fighting for space. The bed, a lofted wonder, hovers over a desk that is cluttered with wires, a laptop, and a half-finished sculpture. The room is dimly lit, with only a desk lamp and the glow of a lava lamp providing the ambiance.
Mattheo and Y/n are in the middle of a make-out session playing catch up because they haven't see each other all summer break due to her spending it in France with her grandmother. His arms are wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her closer as their kisses deepen. Y/n's hands trace the contours of his face, her thumbs brushing over the stubble that has formed since his last shave. His hands wander, too, slipping under her shirt to feel the warmth of her skin. They're both lost in the moment, the world outside their little bubble fading into oblivion.
The sound of their laughter pierces the silence as they break apart, both slightly out of breath. "God, I've missed you," Mattheo whispers, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
Y/n smiles, her cheeks flushed. "Me too," she says, before leaning in to kiss him again.
Mattheo playfully nudges her, pushing her backward onto the bed. They giggle as they collapse onto the mattress, which protests with a series of squeaks. He straddles her, his hands interlocking with hers, and raises their arms above her head. "Gotcha!" he declares, grinning.
Y/n tries to wriggle free, but his grip is firm. "No, no, you don't!" she squeals, her laughter bubbling up as she kicks her legs.
Mattheo leans down, his smile turning into a playful scowl. "You're not going anywhere," he says, before letting her go.
Y/n takes the opportunity to flip him over, now on top of him. "Now who's got who?" she asks, her eyes gleaming.
He chuckles, wrapping his arms around her to keep her close. "Alright, alright," he surrenders. "But only because I like this view better."
They lay there, tangled in each other's embrace, sharing whispers and secrets from their summer apart. Y/n tells him about her adventures in Paris, the art she saw, and the food she ate. Mattheo tells her about his internship at the local music magazine, the bands he discovered, and the concerts he went to.
The conversation eventually shifts to more intimate topics, their whispers becoming softer, their touches more tender. They explore each other's bodies, reacquainting themselves with the familiar contours and curves. It's a dance they know well, yet it feels new and exciting with every encounter.
Their kisses grow urgent, their breathing heavy as they let their desires guide them. Clothes are peeled away, revealing skin that's warm and eager for contact. Their hands roam, caressing, teasing, setting each other on fire.
Y/n's heart raced as she straddled Mattheo, feeling his strong thighs tense beneath her. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow across his sculpted abs, making his skin seem almost golden. His eyes, dark with desire, searched hers, seeking confirmation. She nodded, her cheeks flushing, and he took that as his cue to lean in, capturing her mouth in a passionate kiss that sent waves of heat coursing through her body.
Their tongues danced together, a delicate tango filled with the sweet promise of what was to come. His hands roamed up her back, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss. She could feel his arousal pressing against her, and it only served to make her more eager. Gently, she began to grind her hips against him, feeling his grip tighten as he moaned into her mouth.
Breaking the kiss, she whispered his name, her breath hot against his neck. He responded by nibbling her earlobe, sending a shiver down her spine. She leaned back, giving him access to her neck, which he kissed tenderly, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. His hands found their way to the hem of her shirt, and he began to lift it up, revealing her naked torso.
The coolness of the room contrasted with the warmth of his touch as he cupped her breasts, his thumbs flicking over her sensitive nipples. A soft gasp escaped her lips, and she arched her back, encouraging him. He took the hint, his mouth following the path his hands had made, kissing and suckling each peak until she was squirming with pleasure.
Mattheo sat up, his own shirt joining hers on the floor. He wrapped his arms around her, his bare chest pressing against her as he kissed her again. Their bodies were now one, skin to skin, and the sensation was electrifying. Y/n's hands found the buckle of his belt, and with trembling fingers, she undid it, the sound echoing in the quiet room.
Mattheo stood up, gently lifting her with him. He laid her down on the bed, his eyes never leaving hers as he removed the rest of their clothing. The sight of him, standing over her, completely naked, was almost too much to handle. She reached up, her hand tracing the line of his chest, down to his waist, and back up again. He took her hand and placed it over his heart, feeling it thump wildly against her palm.
He climbed onto the bed, his body aligning with hers, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He took a moment to appreciate her beauty, her eyes wide with anticipation, her skin flushed with desire. He positioned himself at her entrance, and with a deep, shaky breath, he pushed inside her.
The feeling was indescribable, a perfect blend of pain and pleasure that had her eyes rolling back in her head. He stilled when he found a tattoo of his name in swirling black ink on the inside of her thigh. It was a secret she had been keeping from him, a declaration of her love etched into her very skin.
"S-shit," His hips stutter at the sight, and his eyes meet hers, wide with shock and arousal. "You're so fucking perfect."
He began to move, a slow, steady rhythm that had her nails digging into his back. She matched his pace, arching her hips to meet each of his powerful thrusts. The friction between them grew, igniting a fire that threatened to consume them both.
Their moans filled the room, a symphony of need and want. He kissed her again, hard and possessive, as if he could brand her with his passion. She responded in kind, her tongue fighting his for dominance as their bodies moved together in a dance of pure lust.
The tension grew, coiling tighter with every stroke. Y/n could feel it building deep within her, an unstoppable force that threatened to shatter her into a million pieces. She clung to him, her breaths coming in ragged gasps, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to hold on.
One of Mattheo's hands had found itself around her neck, "Mine," he growled, his teeth scraping along her jawline. "You're always going to be mine."
The possessiveness in his voice sent a shiver up her spine, and she couldn't help but moan in agreement. It was true; she belonged to him, heart and soul.
The climax hit her like a tidal wave, crashing over her with the force of a thousand suns. She cried out, her body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her. Mattheo's own release followed, his body tensing as he spilled himself inside her.
He lays her on the bed and starts kissing up her thighs to the tattoo of his name, and she giggles. "Always," she whispers, her voice a little hoarse.
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billiethepumpkin · 7 months ago
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An Expanded Family: How They'd Be as Step-Parents
Warnings: Rated R. This content is intended for readers ages 18 years or older. If you are a minor, do not interact.
Contains: GN!Reader. Multiple family situations. Deceased parents. Coparenting. Absent parent. Blended families. Adoption of a younger sibling. Step-parent behavior.
Featuring: Izuku Midoriya. Ochaco Uraraka. Tenya Iida. Momo Yaoyorozu. Shoto Todoroki. Mirio Togata. Hitoshi Shinsou.
Author's Note: All characters are written to be adults because I am an old fuck :)
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Izuku Midoriya
It had been the first thing he learned about you. You were a parent. Parenthood was deeply engrained in the way you operated, especially in the Pro Hero space.
When you started dating, though, it became so much more complicated than that.
He started overthinking immediately.
Deku was a lot of things. A lot of little kids looked up to him. He met people every day, but the pressure of meeting your little one was extremely high.
Sometimes you'd catch him mumbling to himself, practicing how to talk to a little kid. He knew that screwing this up might mean losing you forever.
But there is literally no possible way that he could screw it up. In any universe.
He decided to go with you and your four year old son to a playground. He put together a picnic and everything.
Izuku was perfect.
You were sure you fell in love with him all over again, watching him on the playground with your baby.
He was a little awkward at first, but as soon as your son asked him to play tag, Midoriya was all over it.
Your baby had him climbing up slides, going down fireman's poles, swinging on swings, the works.
And you couldn't tell who was having more fun: Izuku or your son.
Sometimes, Deku would come over and babysit for you while you had to run off to work or to run an errand.
Izuku always just treated them like playdates or sleepovers, though.
He asks your son's permission for everything first. Especially when he's about to take big steps in the relationship, like moving in.
But when Deku asked your son if he could move in with you guys, your son got all wide eyed and excited.
"Yeah!" he exclaimed, smiling wide. "It'll be like a big sleepover!"
Midoriya knew your son had another parent, whether they were involved or not. He wasn't really trying to take over the father role.
It just fit him so well.
Soon, he found himself making pancakes and packing lunches and planning birthday parties.
Midoriya loved the life he had with you and your son. He loved it much more than he had anticipated.
And when you saw how much he loved your son, and how much your son loved him, it sealed the deal for you, too.
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Ochaco Uraraka
Ochaco was surprised to find out you had kids. You were always so put together.
Not that parents can't be put together, she supposed, but you just didn't really seem like the parent type when she met you.
But whenever she came over while your twin daughters were there, she immediately saw a different side of you.
It made her fall that much more in love with you.
The first time you asked her to babysit, you were on your way to the hospital to see your sister have her own baby. Their other parent was never really in the picture, and everyone else that you would normally ask to watch the babies was also going to the hospital.
Uraraka volunteered almost immediately.
She had been with the twins and you enough times that she thought she had the hang of it.
However, they were only three years old, and whenever it came time to feed them, Ochaco realized she knew so little about children.
Nothing she offered seemed to satisfy them. It took her a while to figure out what they wanted, with their picky palates.
But she did it, eventually.
She knew the routine. Dinner. Bath time. Show on the couch. Then bedtime in the room they shared.
That night, you came home to find your two girls asleep with their heads on Ochaco's lap, her head leaned back on the couch as she dozed, too.
You merely giggled and brought your two girls to their own beds, then brought Ochaco into bed with you.
After that, it took her a while to feel comfortable watching the girls without you.
But she was very good at following your parenting style whenever it was the two of you!
And, man they loved her.
Any chance they got, they dragged Ochaco into the floor to play with them.
Coloring books, ball games, dress up, anything they could convince her to do.
With your permission, she had even floated them a couple of times.
And it warmed your heart when you heard one of them ask her, "Ochaco, will you be my Mama?"
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Tenya Iida
You only got your baby every other week.
Your son was still a newborn, and his other parent was still very much a part of his life.
You wanted to make as much of the time you had with him as possible. So originally, Iida wouldn't come over during the weeks that you had him.
However, all of that changed when his dad wanted to switch weeks for a family event that you'd had going on.
You'd been so absent minded about it that you had forgotten to tell Iida.
Tenya had offered to just go back home and to reschedule his visit for the following week. But you thought that was as good a time as any for him to meet your son.
Iida met your baby while he was sleeping.
He was quiet and attentive, taking in the entire nursery. He didn't think you had shown him that part of your house before.
And even though he loved you and your son, it took a long time for him to really feel like he was part of your family.
I mean, you were seemingly still really close with the baby's other parent. He was never going to be able to step inside the bubble of your family.
Especially because Iida never really did the whole "step-father" thing.
At least, not in the way that anybody else usually did it.
He was more clinical, more calculating, the way he was with everything.
He didn't give the baby any baths or diaper changes for the first six months that you knew him, at least. He felt like it was inappropriate for him, as someone who isn't even related to the baby, to be doing those things for him.
He would do almost everything else, though. Feeding, playing, walks, different learning exercises, cleaning, more feeding.
You knew that everything he ever said or did was only because he cared about you and your baby.
However, he was always insecure about it. He never thought he'd be able to get your ex to trust him, and he never wanted to give either of you a reason not to.
Until you had a conversation with him about it.
You had a heart to heart about how it felt like you were doing a lot of things alone in your relationship and that you needed him to do a little more.
It was then that he told you how much he worried about things like diaper changes.
After you had a long talk about it, he revealed that he had no problem with those kinds of things. He just worried that it would affect the baby's development, to have a stranger around for intimate moments like diaper changes.
After that, he started to help more. He became stronger and stronger as a caregiver for your baby.
He would never be the baby's father. You both knew that. And Iida wasn't trying to be his father. All Tenya wanted was to love both of you for as long as he could.
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Momo Yaoyorozu
You had a ten year old daughter when you and Momo started dating.
In fact, Momo met your daughter almost right away. She didn't have much of a choice because you had a really hard time finding childcare for her while you were away.
Your ex wasn't in the picture and didn't want to be. You didn't want them to be either. And your family didn't exactly raise kids the way you wanted your daughter to be raised. So it was just you and your daughter for the last ten years.
Until Momo came along.
She started out as just a really good friend.
Plus, now your daughter had someone else to look up to in her real life. Momo was smart and powerful, and you wanted your baby to have a woman in her life to look up to. Momo was perfect.
And then it became so much more than that.
Soon, Momo was over every single day. She picked up your daughter from school when you couldn't. She helped with homework and studying. She made dinner and taught your daughter everything she could about math and science and chemistry and hero work, everything she could get out of her system
And your daughter really didn't know how to feel about Momo because she just came on so strong all the time.
I mean, your daughter did like Momo.
It was just hard for her not to have some big feelings. She only had one real parent, and she didn't like any of her other family because of how mean they were all the time.
And Momo went from her parent's friend that sometimes tutored her to the person that sometimes steals her only parent.
And sure, it was cool to have a superhero as a stepmom.
But really your daughter missed the days when it was just the two of you.
When you noticed, you were heartbroken. You apologized over and over, and you promised your daughter that you could plan more days for just the two of you.
Momo was fully supportive of you having more alone time with your daughter. She knew it was important for your daughter to have that bonding time.
Momo just wasn't really sure how to react at the news that your daughter wanted her around less. She hadn't really considered how much she cared for you and your family until then.
Somehow, even though Momo knew how important it was for your daughter to have you as a support system, she still felt rejected and sad. She didn't want to leave you alone.
Momo pulled away for a while. Not because she was angry or anything, but because she didn't know how much space she was supposed to give you to be with your daughter.
Eventually, your daughter did start asking about her again.
"When is Momo coming back over?" she asked one time on the way home from school. "I miss her."
It took a long time, but you eventually learned to balance your time with Momo and your time with your daughter.
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Shoto Todoroki
You took in your younger brother when your parents passed away.
You were happy to do so. The two of you had always been close, and you were happy to be the one who takes care of him.
But he was a bitter, emotional thirteen year old boy whose parents had just passed away. And there was nothing you could do to ease his pain.
You did everything you could think of. You started both of you in therapy. You spent quality time together. You made his favorite meals. You invited his friends over. But nothing consoled him.
He was mean and angry. He was sad and anxious. He insisted on being alone the majority of the time.
And you spent so much time trying to help him heal that you ended up isolating yourself.
That was when you met Shoto. He was a good shoulder to lean on. He was never judgmental of you or your situation. He always listened and never spoke until the time was right.
Todoroki also put you first, the way that you were never able to. And you fell in love with him months after your brother moved in with you.
You were extremely careful of the way you presented your relationship to Shoto to your brother. You thought it would be too quick of a change for him so soon after the last one.
Your worry actually led to you keeping it a secret for a little over a month.
It wasn't on purpose. You always meant to tell your brother that you had a boyfriend. But at first he just wasn't responsive to anything you said.
But then he met Shoto on accident.
Shoto went into your apartment to grab something you needed for work. It was only meant to be a quick trip to the apartment, and your brother wasn't meant to be there.
But he was. Your brother had skipped school. Apparently it's something he'd been doing for a while. He would just walk home after you left for work.
Shoto found him, and they struck up a deal. Todoroki would teach him some skills in combat and he would avoid telling you about the skipping class if your brother would stop skipping school altogether.
Suddenly, Todoroki became best friends with your younger brother.
Your brother became more social, more active. He started talking to you again. He started getting better grades in school. He started joining you for family dinners.
And when you were finally able to tell your brother about the nature of your relationship with Shoto, it turned out that he already knew.
Apparently, he overheard you on the phone with Todoroki one night.
Todoroki became increasingly protective over your brother.
He took your brother to nightly training sessions to help him work off his emotions.
Your brother even convinced Shoto to try going to therapy himself, something he had considered but never actually went through with.
After that day, they started becoming closer. Almost brotherly, almost the relationship you knew Shoto was missing from his siblings.
You knew they both needed each other.
And Todoroki was so spoiling for the both of you. He took you both on trips. He bought you gifts for holidays. He took you to dinner and to his Pro Hero parties and banquets.
Every once in a while, he would work late, and he would refuse to come back to your place because he didn't want to wake up your brother.
And one day, when Todoroki had been at his own apartment for several nights after being on late night patrols, you heard your brother ask you from the other room, "When is Shoto coming home?"
And ever since then, the three of you became a happy family.
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Mirio Togata
You and your daughter met Mirio in the park.
Your daughter had been just six years old. Her other parent had passed away when she was an infant.
Your parents lived far away, and your partner's parents couldn't bear to look at your daughter now that they'd had to bury their own child. And you couldn't really blame them because of how much she looked like her other parent.
It was just the two of you, you and your baby.
Mirio had brought is own daughter, one from a previous marriage.
Their divorce had been amicable, though his ex-wife had since made some poor life choices and was no longer able to visit or take his daughter on the weekends. So they spent their days visiting parks and playgrounds.
You met because your daughter had taken quite a fall off of the swings and scraped up her hands, and Mirio's daughter had helped her up. Mirio, then, helped her find you so you could bring her home.
You were thankful, and you took your daughter home after a brief exchange of niceties.
From then on, you always noticed him at the playgrounds you frequented. Your daughter became very good friends with his, and you found it in your best interest to become friends with Mirio.
The rest is history.
You found out that your daughters would be going to the same elementary school. And from then on, they did everything together.
Meaning that you and Mirio now did everything together, too.
Mirio was particularly doting on your daughter.
He would play with her whenever she asked, no matter how silly the game was.
He would give her piggyback rides into school.
He would nurture her whenever she needed loving.
But he also never neglected his own daughter. He made sure they still went out on their father-daughter dates to cafes and parks and playgrounds.
Watching him love the kids so much created a longing in your heart that was so strong you couldn't deny that you had feelings for him.
Eventually, things spiraled until the two of you were much, much more than friends.
You hadn't exactly explained anything to your daughters yet, but during a play date, they walked in on the two of you kissing.
It was innocent enough. Nothing got remotely steamy. But it was just an innocent moment.
You both startled when you heard "OoooooOOOOoooh!" from the two tiny voices peaking around the corner.
You all started laughing, and your daughters came bounding in the room. "You loooooove Mirio!" your daughter teased.
"Yeah, I guess I do!" you said with a smile, looking at him lovingly.
Mirio was just as doting and loving on your girls as he had been the entire time.
A couple of months into your relationship, you discovered that you were pregnant. And then a few months later, you welcomed a new baby boy into the family.
At first, your girls were so loving and doting on their brother. They "helped" feed him, change him, and bathe him, which really meant just talking to him and giving him lots of kisses.
But you could tell that something with your own baby girl had gone awry.
She would cling to you all hours of the day. She always wanted to be cuddling you, right by your side every minute of the day.
Eventually, she let it slip that she thought you and Mirio loved the new baby most.
You decided that you had to do something. Your baby had to know that you loved her just as much as the rest of the family.
So you set up a special time after the baby was laid down for bed at night where you all did something together.
Sometimes you'd watch a show and cuddle under blankets on the couch. Sometimes you'd play board games together. And sometimes you would take turns reading parts of books.
You each took your girls out on solo adventures whenever you could, making sure to spend time with them just as you did one another.
You did your best to make sure that your family unit all felt loved the way they deserved.
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Hitoshi Shinsou
Shinsou actually met your eight year old son first.
You had been holiday shopping on one of the busiest nights of the year.
You knew you shouldn't have brought him with you. You knew you should've just waited until your parents could watch him.
But now, here you were, frantically running around the shopping center, waiting for your eyes to lock with his.
You couldn't help but shame yourself while you searched for him.
First, you got pregnant in high school. You knew you weren't mature enough to have a child, and all of this proved it. You were still a child yourself. You had no business raising a kid all on your own.
And then you saw it.
You saw your son being led through the crowd with a man with purple hair, and you finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Fast forward to a year and a half later, and you and that man were moving into the same apartment.
Shinsou had proven to be an amazing parent, even if he really hadn't seen himself as a parent before.
He knew he wasn't really the "step-dad" type, and he never pretended to be.
He just wanted to care for you and your son as much as possible.
Hitoshi really struggled at first.
Sometimes, when he was over, he just couldn't understand why he could wake you up in the night with some love and affection.
Eventually, you explained that your son's face was peacefully sleeping on the other side of the wall between your bedrooms. "What the hell would you do if he walked in, 'Toshi?" you had eventually asked.
The look on his face seemed like he'd seen a ghost when you asked.
It took him a long time to get used to the schedule, too.
You and your kid got up so freaking early.
And yeah, he knew it was for school. But that didn't mean he wasn't grumpy about the alarm buzzing on your bedside table at six every morning.
One morning, though, he had been awake when your son had woken up from a nightmare.
You would have been happy to wake up and be there for your son. But Hitoshi also knew this was his chance to really bond with him in a way he hadn't been able to. So he got up and led your son into the kitchen.
Hitoshi took the time to heat up some milk with honey and cinnamon mixed in, just like in that movie he had watched with you and your son recently... Oh, what was it called?... He couldn't remember.
They talked about the dream. Shinsou told your son all the ways that he remembered to be brave when he was afraid.
And ever since then, your son went to Shinsou for everything. It was like he was obsessed with your boyfriend.
Ever since then, they were best friends, always getting into one thing or another together.
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thetravelingtyper · 8 months ago
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Our Shattered Heart (Part 1) (GN! 'Heart' Reader x Taskforce 141)
After an injury and recovery, the men of the force find themselves acting a little differently towards you.
Inspired by the Smiths and Cage the Elephant.
Warnings: a building falls, use of song lyrics, protective 141
Part 2, Part 2.25, Part 2.50, Masterlist
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SO I POPPED OFF at like 1 am with three shots of brandy lmao
The strings of a bass echoed into the open night. Electric steps, iron bridges, the river. Central town spinning away into the flurry of the night. You were running from phantoms, what had you done but cried into the night? Your phone long since turned off you were afraid to return to the safe house. Made up as a civilian you blend smoothly in, but the oppressive nature of their stares made your eyes water so you took your chance and bailed. 
Even in your distress, you admired London proper. You wipe your tears and stop your swift walk. You could hear music? There was a well-lit area a dozen or so yards, (Metric Sergaent) You frown as your Lieutenant’s voice echos in your head naturally. You grit your teeth. Nothing you did was right. In training he’d catch every little mistake, poking out your weaknesses without telling you how to better your stance.
What of Soap and Gaz? Your fellow Sargents and supposed friends. One moment they had your back then after your injury they joined Ghost. Soap would pull you aside and scold you for using your ‘bad leg’ or your hits were too low or high. Gaz just commented after you healed up against you even serving. It took three weeks for you to have enough.
You turn on your phone to check the time, and it rings with a skull icon, you answer it as you can pick up the music. 
“Fucking hell Sergeant where are you.”
“Doesn't matter Ghost, Fuck off”.
“Wait, Lo-”
You hang out and toss your phone into the river. You smirk, a sense of relief flooding your tense body. What had your valiant captain done about your concerns? Immediate relocation to a safe house for surveillance, with said team. Nothing of “I’ll talk with Simon” No you got the “You could be a liability so let us have three grown-ass men babysit you in the middle of the city.” You went to protest but he shushed you with a disappointed look that made you reel back. 
You weren't British, maybe you didn't meet his standards. He's the one who requested an outside operative all those months ago. You performed top of your class and threw your body and heart into the job working your way into being the face of the team. It was you whom they sent to comfort those who lost loved ones as collateral. Everything changed when you broke orders to save a child.
--
“Heart, Ghost, Soap Clear Out Now! That is a direct order!”
The building rumbled and air support had’nt arrived. You had about a minute until the whole place collapsed. 
“Affirmiative, Sergeants move out!” 
Ghost ushered you in front of him and Soap was already running through the dust to get out. But as you turned to run you caught movement.
“Ghost there is someone in there!” You try to trace the movement but Ghosts gloved hand yanked you back as he started towards the entrance. 
“No Heart-”
You gasped, there was a girl pinned under rumble! Your instincts take over and you shove out of his gasp with more strength then you ever though you could muster, Ghost stumbles and you book it back as he yells after you.
“GHOST, HEART OUT NOW THE BUILDING IS COMING DOWN!”
He had no choice but to leave you as you threw yourself over the girl. There was a loud rumble then black. 
You huff, odviously you had survived and the little girl you pulled out from the rubble survived as well. After the dust cleared the next day, you had lugged a beam off her and you and hobbled her out to seek medical attention. Once the mission had finished Price and the others had rushed back to find empty rubble, it was a joyous mother who led the foreigners back to their Heart. And there you were, in some small village a hero treated to the best they could. All you could offer despite the pain of your leg was a small smile towards to girl who clung to you like a baby. 
Soap had about given out before he rushed you with curses, poking and prodding like a mother hen. Gaz laughed, a wholehearted sound like melted caramel and quipped about surviving the sky falling. It was Price and Ghost who were not too keen, but you had a back up. The leaders of the village, who’s daughter and grandaughter you had saved, had what turned out to be excellent intel that you handed to Price with a smirk on your face. 
“Fucking Hell.” Was all you gotten from Ghost and his head in his hands with a deep sigh. 
--
What you didn't realize was how big of a deal it was to the Captain and Ghost. Once you got back to base and were put on a 3 month leave was when things soured. You were able to use connections in the village to work intel, something Laswell was grateful for, But Ghost  took this personally, giving you almost a disapproving sneer when he would see you out of bed. Price was silent. No yelling, no scolding just silent. Some storm brewed and once you fully healed and went back to training it seemed Ghost tainted Soap. The Scot became overbearing, making less hurtful comments. A Gaz, once level headed, turned into Price’s little shadow, you could tell from their glances they were communicating. 
After  three weeks of being stationed with them, fully healed mind you, you had enough of walking on egg shells, being the subject of Ghost’s anger and Gaz’s twists and turns. You didn’t snap until Soap had risen his voice after your pacing. 
“ENOUGH HEART.”
It caught Ghost and Gaz off guard in the small apartment as you turned wide-eyed. His eyes were stormy, set off by something you couldn’t identify.
“Johnny-”
“No LT. They need to learn their place”
Your hackles rose, you tried to calm the rage, how dare he?
“And whats that MacTavish? You four have been acting like I’ve been a virus since the day I came back! I worked my ass off to help you and this is how you asses repay me? Im not a fucking toddler you can drag around.”
Gaz went to speak but the glare you shoot him is venemous,
“No you don’t get say anything Kyle. You’ll  just go running back to Price and prolong this little ‘vacation’ Im sick of being treated like a child.”
“Sergeant” 
“Oh rich from you LT” You feel your nerves bristle as Ghost steps forward in challenge. Despite him towering over you, you bite back 
“You can take your Sergeant and Stuff it. You have acted like an asshole through these past 4 months and I’m sick of it! You three are grown ass men acting like children. Run back to Price and bully someone else I'm sick of this shit.”
And with that you grabbed your bag and stormed off, disappearing into streets of London the three men stunned at your outburst.
---
You enter the lit area to find a band and civilians listening to, was that the Smith’s? You relax to the familiar music. The main singer is a handsome man, dark eyes raking the crown with a calm smile before you lock eyes and he winks. Unexpecting, you blush and turn into the crowd. He begins to sing with a voice of silver and honey.
Take me out tonight
Where there's music and there's people
And they're young and alive
Driving in your car
I never, never want to go home
Because I haven't got one
Anymore
There is a little irony as you take a seat at the bar. Over the past two years, before your four odd months the taskforce had become home to you. You settled in quite fine, either bickering along side Soap, joining with Ghost or helping Price and Gaz with their reports. Seeing your personal skills Laswell insisted on you staying.
She smiles when you enter in under the arms of Gaz and Soap. 
“Hey kid, good to see you. 
You nod at here before Price enters, he passes you three a look before ushering the three of you out of the office.
“Come on you two, the parents gotta meet now.”
You giggle as Price rolls his eye as you turn you catch a knowing look from Laswell to Price and as you head out the door, but being dragged to lunch, you miss the fond look he shoots you. 
You order a bourbon neat, as you take a sip the chill of the night hits a little deeper and you frown behind your glass watching couples get up to dance. You remember that mission with a fond sigh, the bourbon reminding you of your tall and often mysterious Lieutenant.
Take me out tonight
Because I want to see people 
And I want to see life
Driving in your car
Oh, please don't drop me home
Because it's not my home, it's their home
And I'm welcome no more
You tilt your head down, that mission oh. Something in your chest ached.
You entered the room in a shuffle, the trails of your outfit not what you were used to, but a mission like this called for finery. You stumble but pale hand’s catch your arm and tucks it in under his. You turn to the perpetrator but find dark eyes quietly regarding yours and you jump.
“Ghost!”
“Call me Simon at this point Heart”
You manage a quiet yes sir. He watches you with softer eyes before there is laughing down the hallway. 
“He’s a lucky bastard is what he is, getting to take Heart all dolled up.”
Johnny’s voice has your eyes rolling. After a few months of your service the Scot had accepted you with open arms, and the flirting, my god the pick up lines. You sigh fondly into your drink.
“I mean you could just ask them-Lt! You’re early.”
Simon doesn’t offer more then a raised brow as he and Soap meet eyes and Soap turns away. 
“Kyle please can you help me with this,” You lift the tails of your outfit in a huff. 
The man chuckles and nods, it was his idea anyway. His dark eyes meet yours with soft smile that makes you swoon. He offer you a hand and you go to take it but find resistance. 
“Simon?”
“Hurry Love. We ship out in 10.” And with that he lets you go. Kyle’s hand is warm and rough and he twirls you to adjust the back of your outfit. Soap turns to Simon, 
“The mask?” 
And to your surprise, Simon looks to you and nods before slowly removing the balaclava. Soap and Gaz seemed unfazed but you were surprised. A year in you had yet to see more then his lips from a smoke or a drink, but the soft blond hair and scars found you staring at him. He watches you but when you meet his eyes you give him a soft encouraging smile. And his lips quirk up as Soap fusses with his mic and collar. Simon just grumbles at him and you laugh, a chiming sound that has all the men smiling. 
You peer back through the crowd, how long had it been since you’d been out? You tip back the the rest of your bourbon and set the glass down feeling the sting. Fuck it. You drop your back and relax into the seat, the singer’s eyes meeting your with a smile as he continues to sing. You sway in your seat to the music. 
And if a double-decker bus
Crashes into us
To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten ton truck
Kills the both of us
To die by your side
Well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine
You and Soap tumble together, hitting the ground before rolling. The impact steals the breath from your lungs as you grasp at him making sure he was alive.
“Never though i’d get ye like this Heart.”
You sigh, he was fine, despite just saving his ass. He rolls over so his weight isn’t on you more then it needed to be. You are sitting almost on his hips, he grins at you cockily with a raised brow.
“Stuff it Johnny, I just saved your ass.”
“Aye and I gotta thank you for it.”
And in a sudden sweep he pulled himself up and presses a soft kiss to the side of your lips.
“Thank you Love.”
Your face lifts a little at the memory and your heart skips a beat. Your eyes close an you bask in the warmth of the crowd. Following that moment the taskforce changed.
Take me out tonight
Take me anywhere, I don't care
I don't care, I don't care
And in the darkened underpass
I thought, "Oh God, my chance has come at last"
But then a strange fear gripped me 
And I just couldn't ask
You hop off the stool and head into the crowd, heart aching for comfort and the hands of others. 
First it was soap, falling into your shadow, after the kiss your heightened senses saw his eyes on you everywhere. With other soldiers? One of the members of 141 was there, or he was, hands across his chest, standing guard. 
You were training with members of KorTac. The largest fellow, König had taken a keen interest in you due to your language skills and you found a calming friend in the man. Masked like your Simon you felt more comfortable with him. So when he had you pinned you squirmed and broke free. 
“Good”
His voice is soft, pale eyes meeting yours as you roll up onto your feet. You run at him before he can get up, but he shoots up and grabs you with a little yelp escaping from your mouth as you are then thrown a few feet onto the soft mat. You roll onto your back, the breath knocked out of you and the ceiling spinning slightly. 
“That’s enough!” 
Garrick’s sharp voice surprises you as his form appears in your settling vision. He’s quick to kneel down and check you out.
“I’m fine Kyle, just a bit of the rough and tumble.”
His soft lips frown disapprovingly,
“I don’t like you wrestling with him.”
He helps you up and you see König’s form looking out for you. You give him a small wave.
“Sorry Schatz” The nickname pauses you as you stand, Kyle’s arm around you guarding. 
You blush a little and smile at the tall man before a gruff ‘Sergeant’ calls from the edge of the room. You find Ghost leaning against the wall, arms crossed, glaring at König before he calls you to him. You nod a little dumbfounded and before you can pull out of Kyle’s grasp the man presses a kiss to the side of your head. Then lets you stumble into the waiting grasp of the Lieutenant. 
You shake off the memory and your heart murmurs, but you ignore the hurt. For one night you were free from the confusion and rejection from your team. The crowd, seemingly sensing this welcomed you into their sway. A few single ladies sidled up you with wide smiles and pulled you into their group. You knew how to dance, you learned young, this skill pulled you into some interesting missions. As you sway with the ladies you recollect as the singer watches you. 
Take me out tonight
Oh, take me anywhere, I don't care
I don't care, I don't care
Driving in your car
I never, never want to go home
Because I haven't got one, la-di-dum
Oh, I haven't got one
Oh, oh
Simon’s arms were steady around you, Price’s voice in your ear letting you know about the target. You had gone undercover as a couple to infiltrate a drug smugging ring. The leader was hosting a gala at a large mansion in the mountains. And seeing as Kyle and Johnny were on a mission that left you three on your own. You nod silently to Price. Simon pulls you closer and then spins you out on your heels. 
“Who knew you could dance?” 
You quip up at him, but he only nods, umber eyes taking in your form. You looked breathtaking and it stole the words from his lips.
FIrst Johnny then Kyle. You wondered as you looked up at Simon, handsome as ever in a dark black suit. 
“Are you ok Simon?”
He hums, the sound deep in his chest, then in a moment he pulls you flush against him.
“Target on the move lovebirds.”
Price’s voice sound in your ears in a chuckle. 
“RIght Captain.”
You sigh but Simon pauses in his movement, and you look up at him in confusion, you call his name but he just stares at you. 
“We need to move Lt.”
Nothing, but his hand raising from your side to your face as he leans down and kisses you. After a few seconds he pulls a way and finishes with a 
“Affirmative.”
Before leading your frozen self away. 
You lose yourself in the music for a moment, rotating partners in innocent sways, just treasuring being lost in the moment, But this song of course must end.
And if a double-decker bus
Crashes into us
To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten ton truck
Kills the both of us
To die by your side
Well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine
The voice is much closer and you soon find yourself face to face with the mysterious singer. He smiles as he sings and it reminds you of the final piece of the puzzle.
Price had fallen asleep at his desk, again. You sigh fondly and set a cup of warm lady earl grey aside. You move over to him as he mutters something in his sleep. You felt bad waking him but you knew you needed to before he slumped over.
“Captain”
Nothing, even as you call it 3 times. Finally desperate,
“Johnathan Price!”
He shoots awake, eyes darting around tensely before he finds you and softened immediately.
“You can’t be doing that to a man love.”
“You were falling asleep again, how many times do I need to get on you about that Cap? “
The man regards you and chuckles before he sees the tea. You notice this and turn to grab and hand it to him. When you you turn back around the man is standing regarding you. The moment then feels intimate and you flush a little, stepping back.
“Sorry I’ll just leav-”
“No love it's fine, and please if it's just us call me John.” 
He reaches for the tea taking a sip while his ocean eyes watch you. There is something there and you can sense it. After nearly two years of serving under him you grew to know him pretty well, there was fondness in his gaze for all his soldiers. But this was something softer.
“John, I…”
He finishes the cup and sets it down, listening wholly to you and you find the attention has your heart stammering.
“The others have-”
“I know love.”
There it is again and you find yourself pausing as John leans forward, taking your hand in his, rubbing comforting circles into.
“What do I do?”
“Up to you love. I am here for you regardless. You need to get some sleep.”
With this he presses a soft kiss to the palm of your hand and lets you go.
The next day your deployed to the small village and the following four months are hell. 
You shake off the feeling. After your injury they treated you like a child, like a burden to be kept locked away. You sigh, pausing, feeling alone in the middle of everybody again. 
Oh, there is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
The singer finishes with a frown. The crowd cheers then standard music plays and the moment is broken. The singer passes the mic to his member then turns to your pondering self. 
“Are you alright Love?”
His voice is soft and he stands a respectable distance away. One of the members of his band takes the mic and begins with Heaven knows I'm miserable now, continuing the Smiths theme. You almost want to laugh a smile lighting up your face at past (bad very bad) Karaoke attempts with Soap and Gaz. 
“There’s a smile.” He smile down at you and offers a hand, you take it introducing yourself. He raises a hand to the crowd and your new girl friends cheer you on as you allow the stranger to pull you into a dance. 
The next hour passes with another drink with your new friends and opening up about yourself. Nothing about missions nor sensitive information, but finding yourself in a strange position with the four men of the 141. A little looser you describe them all with a few giggles in response as you recount their crazy tactics. It was nice and you settled into the easy arm of the singer. His arm laid only on the back of your chair but under the watchful eyes of the girl group you got comfortable. At the end of the hour, approaching 3 in the morning the singer was called back on to stage. 
A new base line and you swooned as something a bit more American played. The singer nodded his acceptance to the bassist and began to sing. 
Sun went down, sun went down over Pompeii
On both sides, the vow was broken
Oh my my, I'm the one, tryin' to hide this damage done
One day, all our secrets will be spoken
He looked at you and gave a wink and the girls cheered as you threw back a beer. Fuck it. You allowed them to pull you into the ever thriving crowd. Your group drew into the heart of the crowd right up in front of the stage.
As we slow danced, I became your statue frozen
Times I wonder, are we just a puff of smoke? Yeah
Underneath this bed of ashes, still withholding everything
Like we were never close
The singer surprised you and under a breath he hopped down from the stage to join the crowd. He approached you with a sway and a open offered hand. You looked into his eyes with a twinkle in yours. The girls cheering you on, you took his hand and swung into the music.
Don't you worry, baby, no sense tryin' to change it
I'ma strike these matches, never had control
I'm ready to let go, no, was I foolin' myself?
I'ma spread these ashes, never had control
I'm ready, I'm ready
I'm ready to let go
Here you were free to experience life, a break from the bullets, free from the heated stares of the 141. Well, at least for a while. You would go back eventually, you bag had enough supplies for a few days. As you spun in the singers free arms flashes of green, blue and brown spun through your vision. You were a little under but still alert, but with the music you let it all go. 
Sun went down, sun went down over Pompeii
On holy ground, our vows were broken
We met up, we broke bread, I was blue, your dress was red
Ain't it strange? We both knew this day was comin'
As we slow danced, I became your statue frozen
Times I wonder, are we just a puff of smoke? Yeah
Underneath this bed of ashes, still withholding everything
Like we were never close
He pulled you closer in then, even if for a fleeting moment you felt your heart skip a beat. His eyes were obsidian, reflecting the lights like stars and he sings until he’s breathless. You wondered for a moment what could happen. 
Don't you worry, baby, no sense tryin' to change it
I'ma strike these matches, never had control
I'm ready to let go, no, was I foolin' myself?
I'ma spread these ashes, never had control
I'm ready, I'm ready
I'm ready to let go
But as you dance the more of alert of the ladies elbows another, her head tilting subtly towards the entrance of the outdoor bar, where a familiar new set of men appeared. The girl went towards getting you but her friend stopped her as four sets of eyes found you then split up. She sent the girls a look.
Let’s see what happens.
Meanwhile you know the song is finishing and you find yourself taking the hand of the singer and he pulled you into a light embrace and spun you out as he finished breathlessly
Don't you worry, baby, no sense tryin' to change it
I'ma strike these matches, never had control
I'm ready to let go, no, was I foolin' myself?
I'ma spread these ashes, never had control
I'm ready, I'm ready
I'm ready to let go
He stops with a hum as the music continues for a few paces then goes out with the cheering of the crowd. You spin on the pads of your feet with a whooping feeling light in your chest, but you then bump into someone. But before you can apologize you are turned around in their arms and your breath hitches as Simon is staring down at you with dark eyes. It is then you sense another presence behind you and between you and the singer (whose hands are up in surrender) is Johnny.
The sounds of the band drown out with the depths of Simon’s eyes. There is too much there for you to comprehend. His sudden appearance breaks up the alcohol burning in your system and you stand up straighter. Emotions swirl underneath his balaclava, that alone a straight giveaway to his identity. There is anger yes, that much is evident, but you see the stinging presence of worry and something much deeper you dare not name. You turn your head away, the weight of the emotion pulling your heart back from the sky.
The singer shifted looking a little concerned, but Soap was a wide wall of muscle and kept himself close enough to brush your back from within Simon’s arms. The girls however outnumbered the men and give you a knowing look, you nod and they pull the singer away as he nods. You see Soap loosen immediately before turning and forcing your eyes into his.
Stormy blue oceans, the depth of which scare you as he nods to Simon towards the empty bar. You sigh and force yourself to loosen in Simon’s arms. He passes you to Soap and the men pull you gently to the bar where you are especially ashamed to see not only Kyle with your stuff, but a in the corner of the venue, out of noting eyes was John. Gaz with your bag, drew towards you and the four of you reached the awaiting Captain.  
Johnny stood at your right, Kyle moving to your left and Simon towering over you like a vengeful wraith, and Johnny still had not let you go. You move to pull your arm from his, but he gives you a stern look, something of a overprotective mastiff. 
“MacTavish”
“Captain-”
“Johnny.”
Simon’s deep voice rumbles from behind. Johnny hands trace down yours slowly before he takes your hand with a sigh, the tension finally releasing as his pinky takes yours in a final embrace before he finally lets go of you. He huffs and turns away in a slight pout that warms your heart and you find yourself taking his pinky back with yours. It’s a small show but the way his eyes light up behind the worry makes your heart melt. The other men trace the action, Kyle’s eyes meeting Price’s in silent communication. You all stand for a moment longer, not daring to speak, but when the wind causes you to shiver, alcohol in your system reddening your cheeks, its the weight of Simon against your back that surprises you, his arms, minding Soap’s hand, come under yours and wrap around you, his warmth melting into yours.
“‘Were worried Dove.” He leans down over you until his chin rests in top of your head and you can feel the rumble of his voice in your soul. It’s Kyle that speaks next.
“That was one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done Love.” The man frowns, but his eyes move back to the singer and the group of girls, then he eyes you again sharply.
“What if something had happened?”
Its hard to move with Simon's weight on you but you shot Kyle a withering look.
“Nothing happened, I happened to be having fun.”
“But he had his arms-”
“Kyle”
John’s voice finally speaks up and the man turns away to glower at the crowd, then he reaches a hand for your free one and meets your eyes. There you see a storm of concern, a deep fondness and a bit of protectiveness. 
“We need to talk Love, about the past months.” John takes command again, something deep in his soul calm again seeing his team together. But there was time in the morning to talk. He could see the exhaustion of the day creeping into as did the other men.
“In the morning, John” SImon’s voice rumbles feeling your form sway.
“Right Simon” he nods but before turning John steps forward and presses a kiss to your forehead. The action jolting your heart awake and leaving you flushed. 
“John?”
“It’s ok sweetheart, sleep, we’ll get you home.”
With that he turns as Kyle and Johnny reluctantly release your hands. This leaves you and Simon as the men wait.
“Si-?” You are suddenly lifted, strong arms finding your back and under your knees to lift you bridal style. You look up at him with wide eyes and he chuckles,
“I think I like the sound of that Love.”
And with a final turn to the crowd you manage a wave to the girls and the singer who shoots you a wink that causes a huff from simon before the man turns to follow the others.
Time to go home and as they walk, joking amongst each other with Simon’s soft voice luring you to sleep, You feel the loving eyes of the four men on you as you fall asleep. 
---- 
End Part One!
Taglist! @ghostlythots
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mischievousmoony · 1 month ago
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𝚌𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐
⟢ poly!marauders x fem!reader ⟢ you go costume shopping with your boys ⊹ 1.6k ⟢ warnings/tags: no warnings, muggle au, no use of y/n
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“RAHH!” James shouts, suddenly jumping out of an aisle and into your and Remus’ path. He has on one of those creepy rubber clown masks and his hands are up, his fingers splayed wide to accentuate the zombie skin gloves he’s wearing. 
You and Remus stare blankly at him, unfazed by his attempts to scare you both. For a couple awkward seconds, he remains in his “scary” pose as if one of you will suddenly remember to react. Remus just pats him on the shoulder sympathetically. 
James pulls the mask over his head with one of his zombified hands. “Oh come on. You can’t tell me this isn’t creepy!” he says, shaking the limp mask in front of your faces. 
You watch the mask jiggle in his hands, the eye holes stretching under the weight of it. 
“It’s actually much creepier like this,” you say, grimacing. Remus chuckles, nodding in agreement. 
James look at the mask and turns his wrist so that the mask looks back at him. “Heh, you know we could hang this from the porch to scare trick-or-treaters.”
“We have enough porch decorations as it is,” Remus says. Although, he normally wouldn’t deny the purchase of a few additional halloween items every year. You and James share a certain enthusiasm for the holiday. By the time September rolls around, the two of you already have the house alive with Halloween spirit. And each year, you like to add some new decorations to your collection. 
However, Remus isn’t partial to the idea of hanging up a rubber clown mask in front of his home. To be honest, neither were you. You’d much prefer new skeleton heads to adorn the graveyard display you’ve built in your front yard. 
James could tell by your faces it’s a no-go, so he tosses the mask carelessly onto the shelf of the nearest end cap. 
“Hey, hey, put that back where it came from,” Remus scolds him. 
James smiles sheepishly, reclaiming the mask from the shelf and turning on his heels to return it to its rightful place. You and Remus follow him down the aisle and to the back wall where he hangs it back up, along with his zombie gloves. 
“There you guys are.”
The three of you turn to find Sirius approaching from the same direction you’ve just come from, his arms full of several plastic costume bags. 
“Oh boy,” you comment, already knowing what’s about to happen based on the devilish smirk Sirius is sporting. 
“What’ve you got there?” James asks, snickering to himself, completely aware of exactly what Sirius has. It’s tradition at this point. 
“Oh, just some costume ideas for our lovely girl,” he says. He holds one of the glossy plastic bags in front of you. “Wouldn’t this just look darling on her?”
You peer down at the costume, the upside down text just what you expected it to be. 
“Sexy Nurse,” you read aloud, your tone a blend of distaste and maybe a little amusement. Sirius does this every year, and while he never actually expects you to wear any of these ridiculous costumes, he sure has fun imagining what you might look like in them. 
“Or you could be the Hottie Doctor. I don’t discriminate,” he jokes, holding up a nearly identical costume, both being too-short white dresses. The only major difference is that the doctor one seems to come with a plastic stethoscope. 
“Yes, because nothing screams gender equality like the… Naughty Maid?” you snort, carding through the other costumes in his arms. 
“Don’t ignore the cop costume,” James snickers, pulling it from Sirius’ stack. His eyebrow quirks as he studies the garment. “Actually… yeah let’s turn our attention to the sexy cop costume please.”
He pulls the bag from Sirius’ arms, turning it around to show you the skimpy costume.
"On Duty Cutie?" you read from the bag. “No. No way am I being any of these for Halloween.”
“Oh, I’m not saying you should wear this for Halloween,” James says suggestively. “Do these come with the handcuffs?”
“Ha. Ha.” You make a show of rolling your eyes before swiftly averting your gaze, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your cheeks heat up. 
But of course he does anyway. He smirks and reaches out to tilt your chin up, but you lurch away, and his face instantly falls at your rejection. 
“You smell of rubber from those zombie gloves,” you complain, scrunching your nose in distaste. 
“It’s not that bad, is it?” he asks, lifting his hand to Remus’ face. 
Remus takes James hand to his lips, pressing a kiss on the back of his knuckles as he inhales. “You’re fine. You know how our darling is sensitive to certain smells.”
“Like my Christmas cookie candle,” James says sadly. 
Your face screws up in disgust. “Eugh. Attempting to turn baked good into candle scents is a cardinal sin. They never smell right.” 
“And that’s why I’ve banished my favorite candle to the guest bathroom.”
James’ pouty face pulls on your heartstrings. You sigh as you lift his hand and press a kiss over the same knuckles that were just upon Remus’ lips. 
“We all make our sacrifices,” you say, trying not to grimace at the rubbery scent of his fingers or imagine how many other hands shared that glove before your boyfriend. But that’s neither here nor there, because his beaming smile makes up for it. 
“Come now,” you continue, “let’s put these back and look for some real costumes.” Like James, Sirius isn’t likely to put much care into returning the costumes to where he found them, which is why you decide to take the lead. 
You revel in the way they so quickly fall in line, the three of them instantly following your lead, becoming your doting shadows. 
The four of you make quick work of replacing the costumes Sirius picked out on, and have moved onto perusing the nearby area for real candidates. 
You pick up a Dorothy costume from the Wizard of Oz. You squish the bag as if you’ll be able to feel for the quality of the costume through the thick plastic. 
From what you can see, the quality of the dress doesn’t seem to be half bad. And it’s actually quite pretty; not at all as revealing as most of the women’s costumes are.
“That would look nice on you,” Remus says as he comes up behind you and wraps an arm around your waist. 
“If only Dorothy’s counterparts looked as nice,” you say, hanging the costume back up between a boxy, metallic tin man costume and a cheap-looking cowardly lion onesie. 
You move on to the end of the aisle, where you find James and Sirius giggling to themselves in pointy hats. 
“Look, we’re wizards,” Sirius as says as they turn around, revealing the long beards of coarse gray hair they’ve put on. 
“How’s this for a costume?” James chuckles as he fits one of the pointed hats snugly over your head. 
“You’d make a pretty witch,” Remus says as he allows Sirius to adorn him with one of the beards. 
Sirius hums in agreement as he straightens out the beard. “And we're pretty much under your spell already,” he says adoringly. 
You cast Sirius an amused glance as you remove the hat to inspect its quality. 
“As much as I love the beards on you,” you joke, “witches and wizards are a bit overdone.” 
“You say overdone, I say classic,” Sirius says, adjusting his hat pointedly. 
You consider Sirius’ point. “Well, something classic could be fun.”
“Like vampires,” James says.
“Werewolves,” Remus says for the sake of listing classic costumes, but the scrunch of his nose tells you he doesn't like the sound of dressing in faux fur and flannels for Halloween.
“Or a witch and her wizards,” Sirius says, throwing his arms up to gesture at your current getup.
"You really want to hide that pretty face behind that beard?" you ask, slightly teasing.
Sirius defeatedly strips his beard and hat.
“What about zombies,” James proposes, half joking as he adds, “We could all get those gloves you like so much.”
Although those gloves were abysmal, the idea sparks some inspiration. 
“Wait, are you seriously considering zombies?” Sirius asks, recognizing the pondering look on your face. 
"Not exactly. It's definitely gonna be a 'no' to those gloves. But there are other ways we could do an 'undead' look."
"How do you mean?" Remus asks. The typical image of a zombie that pops into his head doesn't look to appealing, but he's sure you'll have some kind of spin on the idea that will make him love it.
"We could lean towards a skeleton look. Like exposed bones instead of rotting flesh."
"Doesn't exposed bones imply rotting flesh?" Sirius asks, being cheeky.
"Not if we do it right," you defend. "I think we could paint them on very tastefully. We could go for a cold, blue kind of dead look."
"Like corpse bride!" James lights up, listing one of your favorite halloween watches.
"Exactly!" you respond with just as much enthusiasm. "And we could do tattered, but fancy, old timey clothing."
Sirius nudges James. "If we go for this costume we could sit out in the graveyard the two of you put together to give out candy."
You didn't think James could possibly perk up more, but he manages to surprise you.
"We could play dead and scare anyone who walks up!" he says, practically buzzing with excitement. In another life, you think James would probably go into the haunted house business.
"So, it's settled then? We're being undead for halloween?" Remus asks.
By the grins on all of your faces, it seems you've come to an agreement.
"We should try the thrift store for clothing," you say. "I don't think I've seen anything that really aligns with my vision here."
The boys nod in agreement, but before you all head out you add, "Let's look at the face paint here first. And maybe some new bones for our graveyard?"
Remus smiles. "Of course, darling. Lead the way."
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
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lilacmingi · 3 months ago
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HADES (DISNEY VILLAINS AU)
My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. NO SPAM-LIKING PLEASE
Pairing: Hades!Hongjoong x fem!reader
Word count: 2,830
Note: This imagine is part of my Disney Villains series from 2022 on Wattpad! 😈 Also!! I have a new rule in place. NO SPAM-LIKING PLEASE! Reading through a series and liking the post when you’re done is fine, but don’t go through and like multiple imagines one after the next consecutively please! I don’t wanna get shadowbanned </3 if you wanna save multiple imagines to read later, like my masterlist instead!
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It was a boring day in the Underworld. The flow of souls coming in was lower than usual, which meant Hongjoong didn't have much to do. His poilished, black nails tapped against the arm of his throne as he stared blankly into the flames before him.
He was bored to death.
He snapped his fingers, his two lackeys appearing in a puff of black smoke.
"You called?" Wooyoung asked, brushing his hair away from his face.
"It's a slow day." Hongjoong responded.
"We noticed." San added, suppressing a yawn.
"I was thinking we could have some fun in the mortal realm today. What do you think, boys?"
The duo shared a look, mischievous smirks tugging at their lips.
Hongjoong took that as a yes.
The three disappeared in a cloud of black smoke, appearing in the mortal realm somewhere away from the crowds. Hongjoong was quick to disguise himself in his human form. His extravagant, black attire was replaced with cream-colored robes to blend in. He looked at the two stood across from him.
"What have you got?" He asked, indicating for the two to show him their disguises.
In an instant, the pair turned into two children.
A wicked smile spread across Hongjoong's features.
"Perfect. No one ever suspects children."
"What do you want us to do, boss?" San inquired.
"Go wreak havoc. Steal something, harass the elderly, let the livestock loose in the streets." He ordered, listing off things that would cause disturbances.
"You got it." The two saluted Hongjoong before scurrying off into town leaving their boss to watch the chaos ensue.
You strode through town, perusing the different carts lined up along the dusty streets. You didn't need anything in particular, you just wanted to get out, stretch your legs, and get some fresh air.
Suddenly, you heard a commotion from somewhere behind you. You turned around to see what was going on, and when you did, two little boys ran by nearly knocking you off your feet as they did so. You stumbled a bit but was quick to regain your balance as you saw the two kids run over to a nearby fruit cart. You couldn't help but notice one of them going to steal an apple. Just when you were about to speak up, the lady running the small business began shouting at them, shooing them away. You frowned, feeling sorry for the two boys.
"Excuse me." You called out, stepping towards the fruit cart. "What's going on?"
"These two ruffians tried to steal my goods!" She spoke harshly, her voice a bit gravelly.
"They were just hungry, I'm sure."
"Lady, do you see the chaos these two have caused?" She pointed to the other vendors' carts lining the street. Some appeared to have things knocked off, the sellers trying to gather their goods out of the streets.
"I'm sure they didn't mean to. They were probably just having fun and weren't paying attention. Right?" You asked, turning to the children.
They both nodded.
You then bent down to their level, looking at the two of them. One had short, choppily cut black hair, the other longer brown hair with subtle waves. They both looked to be around the same age, maybe seven years old. You weren't too sure. Either way, you weren't going to leave them without making sure they were alright and out of trouble.
"Where are your parents?" You asked.
Neither said a word.
"Do you have parents?"
The one with brown hair nodded while the one with choppy black hair shook his head. You weren't sure what to think of that, so you chose to overlook it.
"Are you guys hungry? I'll get you something."
The two shared a glance before nodding.
You stood up to face the lady running the fruit stand.
"I'd like two apples, please."
"For these two delinquents?" She asked, harshly.
"I'm giving you business, so why does it matter who I give them to?"
The vendor pressed her lips together, knowing she couldn't possibly refuse a paying customer.
"Alright." She huffed, taking the money from me.
"Thank you." You gave her a friendly smile, picking two apples from the woven baskets on the cart and handing them to the boys.
"Thank you, Miss." The brown-haired boy smiled, his cheeks round like bread.
Hongjoong, who was watching from a distance witnessed the whole thing. He felt something in his chest when he saw how kind you were towards San and Wooyoung. It was an odd feeling he hadn't felt before—ever. He wanted to talk to you right that instant. He then stepped out of his hiding spot and began walking over.
"San! Wooyoung!" He called.
You lifted your gaze at the unfamiliar voice, your eyes landing on a man with straight, black hair. He had a prominent nose that came to a point; it was dainty and reminded you of a fairy. He hurried over to the two children, crouching down to their height.
"There you two are." He spoke.
His voice was unique. It was a bit higher than you expected, but so light and airy. You could listen to him talk all day.
"Oh. Do you know them?" You inquired.
"Yes. I'm their... older brother, actually."
"Ah. I thought they were lost so I bought them apples. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all. That was very kind of you." He went quiet for a moment before piping up. "I'm Hongjoong. That's San and that's Wooyoung."
"I'm Y/n." You introduced yourself.
"Nice to meet you." Hongjoong smiled warmly.
"Thank you, Miss Y/n." The boy with the choppy hair, who you now know as San, thanked you.
"Yeah. You're really nice." Wooyoung spoke up.
"Thank you, boys. You're awfully kind."
"You were so nice to my brothers, I feel like I should do something for you in return. You know, as a way to say thank you." Hongjoong spoke.
"That's alright. You don't have to do anything for me."
"I insist."
"Well, if you must."
"Would you be interested in a visit to the theater?"
"The theater?"
He nodded with a smile.
"That's a very nice offer."
"Is it something you'd be interested in?"
"I would."
"Wonderful." He beamed.
His smile was incredible. His teeth were stunning and so white. You'd never seen anyone with a smile as perfect as his.
"We could meet by the colosseum tomorrow when the sun reaches the top of that mountain." He pointed.
"That works." You nodded.
"Are you going on a date with my brother?" Wooyoung asked.
"Date?" You parroted.
You and Hongjoong both started denying it.
"No, no, no." You shook your head.
"I'm just thanking her for being nice to you two." Hongjoong clarified.
The two boys gave both of you skeptical looks.
"Alright, well we should be going." Hongjoong spoke up, pushing his brothers forward. "I'll see you tomorrow."
The next day, you met Hongjoong outside the colosseum as promised. You put on your best robes, wanting to impress the handsome man. It seemed he was thinking the same as you, because he showed up wearing nice robes as well.
"You look wonderful." He complimented.
"So do you."
"Ah. Really?" He asked, pushing his hair back.
"Yes. Very handsome." You told him.
"Shall we head inside?" He nodded towards the colosseum entrance.
"Of course."
He offered you his hand, which you gratefully took and allowed him to lead you inside.
The both of you got seated and waited for the chairs around you to fill up.
"I love coming to the theater." Hongjoong commented. "It's a nice break from work."
"What do you do?" You asked.
"Oh." He seemed caught off guard by the question. "I'm a... supervisor."
"A supervisor? What do you supervise?"
"The dead."
"Oh. So you're a coroner?"
"Yes, exactly! That's what it's called." He nodded.
"Don't you get creeped out being so close to dead bodies?"
"Well, I don't really deal with the bodies."
You gave him an odd look. "Isn't that what a coroner does?"
"Oh, um, I mean, it's not so bad. I just look at the body and document the person's time of death, so I'm not around them for too long."
"Hm." You hummed in response.
"The show's starting." Hongjoong pointed.
The two of you continued to spend time together for the next few weeks. Hongjoong took you to incredible places and did many fun and exciting things with you. It was never boring when you were with him. Always something new.
The both of you walked hand in hand as Hongjoong took you home. Your hair was adorned with flowers Hongjoong had placed in there. You had even placed a few in his locks as well. You had just gotten back from watching the sun set on a hill overlooking the city. It was the most perfect evening ever.
"Thank you for today." You told him, leaning your head over on his shoulder.
"You're welcome. I'm glad you had a good time."
"It was wonderful, as usual. You always seem to find a way to one-up the previous date."
"Oh, so these are dates now?" He asked with a smirk.
"Of course they are. That visit to the theater was a date too."
"How so?" Hongjoong inquired.
"I know you didn't just invite me to the theater to thank me for being nice to your brothers."
"Alright, you got me." He chuckled. "I needed an excuse to see you again."
"So you admit you were smitten from the start?"
"You could call it that." He smiled, fondly. "What about you?"
"I was quite taken with you too." You admitted.
"I knew it." He grinned.
"Liar." You laughed, shoving him playfully.
Your heart sank just slightly when you saw your home come into view. You always hated saying goodbye to Hongjoong, but you knew you'd be see each other again soon—you always did.
The two of you came to a stop at your front entrance.
"I don't want to leave." You told him.
He smiled a bit as he brought his hand up to cup your cheek.
"I know."
"Thank you again for the wonderful afternoon."
"Of course, darling." He smiled warmly, his thumb caressing your cheek, sending a rush of tingles throughout your body. "Now go get some rest."
You nodded as Hongjoong's hand fell from your face.
"Oh. There's something that I want to tell you. It's pretty important. Can you meet me at the building overlooking the botanical garden tomorrow after sunset?"
"Why can't you tell me now?"
"It's not the right time."
"And tomorrow is?" You inquired.
"Yes. So, will you meet me there?"
"Of course, Hongjoong."
"Thank you."
You stepped inside, glancing back at the charming man.
"Sweet dreams." He whispered.
You gave him a small wave before closing the door.
It took you a while to get to sleep that night, as all you could think of was what Hongjoong might want to say to you. He could want to officially ask you to be his girlfriend, that would make you really happy. Or it could be something else. You tried not to think of anything negative as you finally forced yourself to go to sleep.
You approached the building Hongjoong asked you to meet him at. Your hands were slightly clammy as you headed to the balcony in the back. The sun had gone down, bathing the scenery in its cloak of darkness. You had wondered why Hongjoong wanted to meet at night, but chose not to question it.
You admired the beautiful nighttime scene and the way the bright moon cast shadows over the trees and sculptures in the garden sitting below. It was somewhat eerie but beautiful at the same time.
"You showed." A voice spoke up.
You turned to see Hongjoong approaching.
"Of course I showed." You smiled. "I told you I would."
"Thank you."
"You said you wanted to tell me something?"
"I do." He confirmed. "Well, I also want to show you something."
You stood and waited, watching as he took in a deep breath.
"Watch this." He instructed with a smile.
He held his hand out, a rose engulfed in blue flames appearing out of thin air.
You stared at it in awe, unable to comprehend how he conjured the flower out of nothing and also why it wasn't wilting under the flames.
"How did you do—" You were cut off when you looked up to see Hongjoong standing in front of you, but he looked different—very different.
His normal black hair was now blue, matching flames of the same hue were coming off the ends of his locks. His outfit had changed as well. Instead of his usual cream-colored robes was now an odd-looking black outfit made of some sort of leather. He donned a large feathery coat on top with a black skull on his shoulder. It was nothing like you had ever seen before. The outfit wasn't the only thing that changed. His brown eyes were now covered in heavy eye makeup, black shadows smudged around his intense eyes.
His entire look was, in a word, otherworldly.
"Hongjoong?" You asked, shocked by his new appearance, unconsciously taking a step back as the rose fell from your hand.
"Y/n, just let me explain before you freak out, okay?"
You took in a deep breath, staying silent and allowing him to continue.
"I'm not actually human. I'm god of the underworld."
Your eyes widened in shock and mild horror.
I've been going on dates with the god of death? You thought in disbelief.
"I couldn't come right out and tell you because I didn't want you to run away. I wanted you to get to know me for me."
Hearing him say that made you pause for a moment. He's right. You probably would have ran away if he came out looking like he did.
"I'm still the same Hongjoong, I just look a little different is all."
He had a point. It's not like he's some monster. He's still Hongjoong.
"So, San and Wooyoung aren't your brothers?" You asked.
"No." He shook his head. "They're my henchman."
"And you're not a coroner." You said it like a statement.
"No."
You let out a short sigh. "I can't be mad at you. You had good intentions. Also, you did kinda tell the truth about your profession. You do supervise the dead."
"That I do." He chuckled. "So, does this change the way you feel about me?"
You smiled softly. "No."
Hongjoong took a few steps forward, reaching his hand out. His jewelry-clad fingers glimmered under the moonlight as he waited for you grab hold of his hand.
"Your nails." You commented, glancing at his black colored fingernails.
"You like them?"
You nodded. "I've never seen anything like it."
"Well, sweetheart, things in the Underworld are a bit different than they are here."
"I imagine so." You said, glancing at Hongjoong's outfit.
"Maybe I can show you one day."
"You can take me there?" You asked.
"Of course. I'm king, so I make the rules."
You chuckled.
Hongjoong pulled you close, his arms wrapping securely around your waist. Your breathing quickened as you realized how close your faces were.
"Will you be my queen, Y/n?"
"What?" You choked out.
"Not now, but someday. Will you be my queen and rule the Underworld by my side?"
"That's a difficult question to answer at the moment."
"Then let's start with girlfriend first. How's that?"
"Good. That I can handle." You nodded with a light chuckle.
Hongjoong smiled, his thumb gently ghosting over your bottom lip.
"Can I kiss you?" He asked, his voice so gentle it made your heart flip.
All you could do was nod your head.
The gap between your mouths was closed instantly as Hongjoong's lips met yours, nearly taking your breath away. His hands briefly squeezed your sides as his lips pressed harder against your own.
"You're so beautiful, darling." He murmured before diving back in for another kiss, his hands roaming your waist as yours stayed firmly planted on his shoulders.
You pulled away, gazing into his eyes.
"I don't want this night to end." You admitted, your fingers playing with the black feathers of Hongjoong's coat.
"It doesn't have to. We can always take a walk through the garden or gaze at the stars."
"That sounds romantic... but first I'd like to try that kiss again." You grinned.
"As you wish, my dear."
When Hongjoong asked you about ruling the Underworld with him, it caught you off guard. However, the idea of being by his side made you happy and the thought of it was rather appealing. Maybe one day you would accept his offer. As of right now, you'd like to take things slow and just have a normal relationship—well, as normal as a relationship with the god of the Underworld could be.
Seonghwa: Maleficent ⟡ Yunho: Captain Hook ⟡ Yeosang: Evil Queen ⟡ San: Cruella de Vil ⟡ Mingi: Dr. Facilier ⟡ Wooyoung: Hyena ⟡ Jongho: Gaston
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🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz @laylasbunbunny @iammeandmeisiam @delulu18
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lipglossanon · 21 days ago
Text
Day 22
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Kink: Bondage
Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Las Plagas!reader
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, bondage, Leon POV, coercion, noncon with hints of cnc, aphrodisiacs, dirty talk, degradation, unprotected sex, breeding kink AND breeding 👀, creampie
not proofread
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Leon thinks it’s a lab he’s stumbled into; it would make sense with all the other crazy shit down here. Like who the hell needs killer laser grids as security?
But it’s different from the other ones he’s been in so far; there are full fledged humans floating in tanks in the middle of the room with a bank of computers off to the side. Walking over, he checks the screens to see if he can make heads or tails of anything. 
That’s when you stumble into the room, wearing an ill fitting outfit, like a girl playing dress up as a scientist. 
He turns, gun aiming at you but with his finger off the trigger. 
“Who’re you?”
“Me?” You blink at him, one eye at a time like an owl. 
Frowning at you, he quickly glances to make sure his safety is off before stepping closer. 
“What’s your name?” 
He tries a different approach; you look like you’ve been rode hard and put up wet—in other words, fucked. 
You look around in confusion, hand raising up to press against your temple. 
“I-I don’t remember,” you whisper. “I don’t know where this is or, or how I got here.”
You stutter over your words, voice rising in panic. Wild eyes turn back to him. 
“Did you bring me here?!”
Holstering his gun, Leon holds his hands out placatingly, “Hey.. hey, I can help you. The name’s Leon.”
Your brows furrow cutely and he gives you a little smile. 
“Why don’t we take a look around and see if anything jogs your memory?”
He poses it as question although it’s more of a directive. Something to give you some focus. Leon takes point and covers the entire room with you as his shadow. Coming across a clipboard on the corner table, he pauses to look through the list of names. Each line holds a name with a description of the person, all next to a little box that lists what experiment they fall under as well as any outcomes. 
The next to last name is smudged to hell and back, so Leon can’t make it out at all, but you fit the description to a T; alarm bells blaring in his brain, Leon steels himself to read the rest. 
A handful of words jump out at him:
Infected. Test run: Queen Plaga. ACTIVE. 
It takes a lot to make Leon feel caught off guard—especially since he’s already neck deep into this nightmare mission—but your presence at his back makes him feel vulnerable in an entirely different way. 
Placing the clipboard back down, he tries to keep up his nonchalant, helpful persona. 
“Is anything coming back to you at all?” He turns around to face you, but it’s only empty space. 
His eyes catch on a door closing on the other side of the room; it blends in perfectly with the walls once it shuts, so he keeps his eye on it as he walks over. Gently easing it open, he raises his gun as he moves into the room. It’s an office, divided with partitions into three cubicles from what he can tell. 
Leon can hear you moving around at the far end, muttering to yourself. Sneaking closer, he steps around the gray divider, pointing his gun at you. 
“Let’s just take it easy,” he glances around to make sure the office is truly empty; in doing so, he misses the tail slowly descending from your lab coat. 
Quicker than a flash, you wrap your new appendage around his chest, pinning his arms in place. A quick swipe of your hands at his own, makes him drop the gun and he listens to it hit the ground with a metal clatter. 
You shove him down into a chair, tail tightening around him so he can’t move. His mind flashes to the fight he had earlier with Rámon’s right hand.
“I-I didn’t want this,” you tear up. “I was sick. They said they could help me, so I came here and now I.. I-I’m different.”
“Don’t panic,” Leon softens his voice. “Look, we can get you help. There’s a machine down here that can get rid of it.”
Hands shaking, you bring them up to squeeze your head. 
“I want that, but—“
Doubling over, you gasp in pain, hands dropping down to your pelvis. Leon watches as you collapse onto your knees. He wiggles, but your tail doesn’t budge an inch. You convulse for half a minute as he watches on in sympathy. He struggles again, but it leads to nowhere. As fast as your symptoms came on, they stop. 
Under his gaze, you push yourself back up onto your feet, body moving oddly, like a marionette. 
“Are you okay? If you let me go, I can help—“
Your head snaps up and you give him a big toothpaste ad kinda smile. 
“Oh, everything’s fine. Perfectly in sync.”
You frown at him and Leon’s heart rate picks up. Something’s off in a big way and he’s practically a sitting duck. 
“But you, you got rid of my gift.”
It feels like ice water douses his veins. 
You click your tongue, “And that just won’t do, will it, Leon?”
He tries harder to get out of your grip, but after a few minutes he slumps back into the chair, winded and defeated. 
“Silly,” you shake your head, turning your attention to the desk. 
He eyes the cables you begin to rip out of everything. Once you think you have enough, you walk right up to him. Your hands make quick work of tying his arms and legs to the chair. Once he’s secured, you remove your tail. 
“There,” you step back with another smile. “We can have a civil transaction.”
He tugs at his arms uselessly, the power cables cutting into his wrists and making him bleed. 
You straddle his lap, “Now, be a good boy and this will all be over soon.”
Dread weighs heavy on his chest as you quickly undo his pants and pull out his soft cock. He bucks underneath you, but it doesn’t do any good. You tease your fingers across his tip and he starts to chub up. Leon’s always been easy, but he’s never hated himself for it more than now. 
“Don’t do this,” he pleads. “We can—“
“Uh uh,” you chastise playfully, pushing three of your fingers into his mouth. “Good boys are seen not heard.”
His cock leaks at your words. You feather your fingers up and down his growing length until he’s stiff and heavy in your hand. His tip blurts precum when you giggle at him. 
“My, my, what an eager, little boy,” you whisper at him like it’s a secret. 
His cock throbs in your hand at your mocking endearment. 
“Now, Agent,” you sit up straighter in his lap, fingers tapping against his tongue. “Since you so cruelly removed my sweet plagas from your chest, you’ll gift me with your seed.”
Your other hand slowly jerks him off and he whimpers. 
“Breed me and we’ll call it even,” you murmur, eyes half lidded; Leon can’t stop his cock from twitching. 
“Oh?” You grin, tail coming up to wrap around his chest again. “You like breeding soft, hot cunts, don’t you?”
He wishes you’d just kill him, embarrassment and shame filling his chest as his cock stiffens and bobs in your grip. 
“Don’t worry,” you let go of his dick to pat his cheek. “You’re going to creampie me for as long as I need.”
You slide your fingers from his mouth and kiss him, drooling so much saliva he has to swallow before he chokes. Pulling away, he coughs as you shove your fingers back into his mouth. 
“A little aphrodisiac never hurt anyone,” you laugh, raising your hips to slide your slacks and panties completely off.
The blood rushing through his ears muffles anything you just said. You settle back down, sandwiching his cock between your thighs to grind your wet slit against him. Using your free hand, you grab the base of his dick and notch it at your drippy hole. Leon groans against your fingers as he feels you sink all the way down on him, balls pressing against your ass. 
You raise up with a mewl and sink down on his cock again. 
“Oh, this feels…” you trail off with a moan. 
He can’t stop himself and starts sucking and laving his tongue against your fingers. His whole body feels like it’s on fire and wants nothing more than to cum deep in your fat pussy. He knows he shouldn’t like it, but Leon can’t think past the slow deep strokes of his cock fucking your cunt. 
“Good boy, you’ve learned your place so quickly,” you croon and he groans, arousal making his thoughts syrupy. 
“Your balls must be so full,” you simper next to his ear, walls fluttering and squeezing his cock like crazy. “It aches, doesn’t it? You just need to empty those fat, heavy balls deep into my pussy; it’ll feel so good.”
Leon can’t take it, your snug little pussy gripping his cock like you were made for it. Shuddering, his eyes roll back as he spills deep inside your cunt. 
“Ooh, yess, that’s it Agent, breed me full,” you murmur against his ear and he shoots off a few more ropes of cum into your clenching hole. 
“Doesn’t that feel nice? Breeding such a wet, needy pussy?”
His thighs twitch and he whines around the fingers in his mouth. It’s like you’ve dosed him with something, he thinks, as his cock thickens again, stretching your cum filled pussy once more. 
“We’ve got all the time in the world,” you promise. 
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