vvs1972

[mononijikayu]

pillowtalk — fushiguro toji.

So one evening, when the house is peaceful and the two of you are sitting together, watching Megumi’s small chest rise and fall as he sleeps, Toji finally lets the words slip out. “Do you think… Megumi’s lonely?” His voice is soft, almost tentative. He’s not used to sounding uncertain, but this feels like new territory for him. “Like, maybe he’d do better with a sibling?” The question hangs in the air, unspoken emotions carried within it, waiting for your response.

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence!;

WARNING/S: fluff, romance, nsfw, r-18, smut, rough sex, breeding kink, overstimulation, body praise, kissing, p-i-v sex, fingering, pet names (baby, babe, wife, mama, etc), profanity, love, humor, light-hearted, married life, being in love, sexual intercourse, intoxication, partying, slice of life, domestic life, family, depictions of sexual acts, depiction of body praise, depiction of naked bodies, mention of sexual innuendo, mention of sexual intercourse, husband! toji, mamaguro! reader;

WORD COUNT: 7k words

NOTE: i think about how mamaguro was taken too soon from toji and megumi and how maybe they were thinking about wanting another kid and just how domestic their life was. i like to think about toji!househusband too fr. like if there was a character that could be the way of the househusband, it would be fushiguro toji, thank you. thank you for listening to my tedtalk!!! anyway, i love you all <3

masterlist

kinktober 2024 - kayu's version

if you want to, tip!

══════════════════

HIS LIFE NOW WAS A FAR CRY FROM HIS OLD LIFE. Toji Fushiguro never thought he'd find peace, much less happiness. His life had been a series of battles, betrayals, and constant survival. But then you came along, softening the sharp edges of his world, bringing warmth where there had only been cold.

He remembers the day he first saw you. It was as if the world had found itself in a tailspin and he was in it. His world changed when you came into his life. Everything felt like it was worth finding wonder in.

With how you looked at him with eyes full of understanding, tenderness. There was nothing of pity or grievance. There was always warmth. Warmth he didn't think he would ever deserve. Somehow, you'd seen something in him worth saving, something worth loving. 

You gave him a family, a real family—not just in the blood that runs through his veins but in the small, everyday moments that fill the spaces between. You gave him everything he could ever want. Everything that he thought could only be achieved in dreams.

Mornings over coffee, the sunlight streaming through the kitchen window, your laugh echoing softly through the room. The gentle way you cradle your son, Megumi, in your arms, whispering stories to him with a voice so full of love it makes Toji’s chest ache in the best possible way.

Every time he looks at Megumi, he feels a rush of gratitude so overwhelming it almost brings him to his knees. Your son has his eyes, that piercing gaze that cuts through the nonsense of the world, but he has your smile, that Toji was sure of. He was just as much happy about it too.

When he looked at Megumi, he could find that small, quiet curve that seems to promise the universe that all will be well. It was waiting for him on his son's beautiful face as much as it was on your own beautiful lips.

Fushiguro Toji never thought he’d care so much about something so trivial, but here he is, caring more than he ever imagined possible. His son's smile brought him as much joy to see as it does when you too smile at him.d

He watches Megumi toddling around the living room, his tiny hands grasping at the air as he learns to walk, determination etched on his face. Toji's heart swells with a fierce kind of pride.

In moments like these, he understands what people mean when they talk about the best things in life. It’s not the money, the power, or the next fight to win. It’s his son’s first steps, the weight of your hand in his, the soft, steady rhythm of your breathing beside him at night.

You've given him a home—not just a house with walls and a roof but a place where he feels like he belongs, where he isn't running from shadows or haunted by the ghosts of his past. A place where, for the first time in his life, he feels like he deserves to stay.

Toji never thought he’d be here, never thought he’d be the kind of man who could love so deeply, who could feel so much. But you changed that. You changed everything. And as he stands there, watching Megumi, he knows that this right here, right now is the happiest he’s ever been.

Toji’s gaze shifts from Megumi to you, who are quietly watching the two of them with a serene smile. Your presence brings a calm to the chaos that once defined his life. The way you hold Megumi’s tiny hand as he wobbles toward you, the soft encouragement in your voice, it all creates a sanctuary that Toji never thought he’d find.

In the evenings, when the world quiets down and the house is bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun, Toji often finds himself reflecting on how far he’s come. He thinks about the days when his future seemed so uncertain, when the idea of a family felt like an impossible dream. Now, every moment spent with you and Megumi feels like a precious gift, a beautiful reality he’d only dared to hope for.

As Megumi eventually collapses into a giggling heap on the floor, Toji chuckles softly. You come over and join them, your laughter mingling with his as you all enjoy the simple joy of being together.

Toji sits back and watches, his heart full. He thinks about the sacrifices he’s made and the battles he fought. Each scar, each hard-earned lesson, has led him to this moment—the sweetest victory of all.

In the quiet moments, when it’s just the three of you, Toji often finds himself lost in thought. He marvels at how you’ve created a life filled with warmth and love, and how Megumi is growing up surrounded by everything he never had.

He realizes that his past, with all its pain and darkness, was worth it for the chance to build this future with you. He feels a profound sense of gratitude, not just for what you’ve given him, but for the strength and resilience you’ve shown in building this family together.

When he tucks Megumi into bed at night, he’s reminded of the importance of the little rituals. The way Megumi’s eyes flutter closed as Toji reads him a bedtime story, the way he clings to the small toy you both picked out together, and the peaceful sigh he gives as he drifts off to sleep. Toji knows that these moments are fleeting, but they are precious.

As he stands by the doorway, watching over his sleeping son, Toji reaches out and takes your hand. You squeeze it gently, a silent promise of the love and support you’ve always given him. He turns to you, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings.

“I never thought I’d have a life like this.” he says softly, his voice filled with emotion. “You’ve given me everything I never knew I needed. I don’t know how to thank you, but I hope you know how much you mean to me.”

You smile, your eyes glistening with love and understanding. “You don’t have to thank me. This our family, our home, its all I ever wanted too. We’ve created something beautiful together, and that’s more than enough.”

Toji wraps his arm around you, pulling you close as he gazes once more at the peaceful scene before him. In that moment, he knows that he has everything he could ever ask for. The life he shares with you and Megumi is his greatest achievement, his greatest joy. And as he holds you close, he realizes that this is exactly where he’s meant to be—home.

The nights are often filled with a gentle stillness, punctuated only by the soft sounds of Megumi’s breathing as he sleeps. Toji finds these quiet moments to be some of the most precious. He cherishes the tranquility that envelops your family, feeling as though he’s finally found his place of peace after years of turmoil.

In the early mornings, when the first light of dawn filters through the curtains, Toji enjoys watching you and Megumi. He loves the way you wake up with a soft smile, the kind that says everything is right in the world.

As you prepare breakfast, Toji often stands by, watching with admiration. You move through the routine with an ease and grace that mesmerize him, the way you hum a soft tune or how you softly chat with Megumi, turning the mundane into something magical.

Mornings are Toji’s favorite time to bond with his son. He takes Megumi in his arms, holding him close as he prepares to start the day. They play together, their laughter filling the room with an infectious joy that makes Toji’s heart swell.

He sees so much of you in Megumi; Everything he loves about you blossomed in your beautiful son. Megumi had the same curious eyes, the same warm smile—and it makes him fall in love with both of you all over again.

On weekends, the family often goes on small adventures. Whether it’s a stroll through the park, a visit to a nearby museum, or a picnic by the river, Toji treasures these outings.

He loves seeing the world through Megumi’s eyes, watching as his son discovers new things and experiences the simple joys of life. He takes pride in being a part of these moments, knowing that he’s helping to create cherished memories for his family.

At night, after Megumi is asleep and the house quiets down, Toji and you find time to connect. These moments of solitude are a chance to share your thoughts and dreams, to reflect on the day and plan for the future.

The conversations are often deep and meaningful, touching on everything from hopes and fears to the little details of daily life. It’s in these conversations that Toji feels most connected to you, realizing how deeply you understand and support him.

Sometimes, Toji thinks back to the days when his life was filled with chaos and uncertainty. He can’t believe how far he’s come, how much he’s changed. And every time he looks at you or Megumi, he’s reminded of just how much he’s gained. The family he’s built with you is a testament to the love and resilience you both share.

As he drifts off to sleep beside you, Toji feels a profound sense of contentment. The days are filled with laughter and love, the nights with peace and connection. He knows that his past is behind him, that he’s finally found the life he was meant to have.

In the quiet darkness, Toji holds you close, grateful for the life you’ve created together. He’s found something he never thought possible—a home, a family, and a love that makes everyday worth living.

And as he whispers a quiet “thank you” into the night, he knows that the greatest gift he’s ever received is the love and happiness you and Megumi have brought into his life.

══════════════════

HE REALLY THINKS THIS IS THE BEST LIFE ANYONE CAN ASK FOR. Fushiguro Toji enjoys the life you’ve built together. He really does. But lately, a thought has been lingering in his mind, one that keeps surfacing during the quiet moments.

He wonders if maybe life would be even better, fuller—if you and he were to give Megumi a sibling. It’s not that he doesn’t love the way things are now. Ever since Megumi was born, everything shifted naturally; your priorities changed, and together, you’ve navigated this new life of parenthood seamlessly. 

But still, Toji can’t help but worry. Megumi is growing up fast—already past his first birthday and nearing his second. He’s independent in his own quiet way, rarely showing interest in playing with other kids when given the chance. Toji wonders if maybe it’s because Megumi feels a little lonely, being an only child. 

Toji doesn’t voice these thoughts out loud often, but they weigh on his mind. You’ve both done well to balance your lives, your love, and your responsibilities. But he imagines another child, a little sibling for Megumi—someone to share those quiet afternoons and keep him company.

Maybe it’s time to think about it, he muses. After all, family has always been at the center of his thoughts, and adding to yours feels like the natural next step.

Your husband hasn’t brought it up yet, not directly. It’s hard for him to find the right moment, the right words. He’s not one for long conversations or deep discussions, but you know him well enough to notice when something is on his mind.

Lately, he’s been watching Megumi more closely, observing the way your son plays quietly by himself, content in his little world but lacking the spark of excitement that other kids seem to find when surrounded by their peers.

He’s seen it when you’re both at the park, Megumi clinging to your leg instead of running around with the other children. He doesn’t push it—Megumi is still young, and Toji knows better than anyone that everyone moves at their own pace.

But the nagging thought remains: maybe what Megumi needs isn’t just more playdates or time with other kids. Maybe he needs someone at home, a sibling to grow up with, to bond with. Someone who’ll always be there, someone who’ll understand him in a way only a sibling can.

In those quiet moments when the house is calm, and Megumi is tucked away in bed, Toji imagines what it might be like. The sounds of laughter from another room, two pairs of small feet running down the hallway.

The way you’d smile, holding another little one in your arms. The thought makes him feel warm, something he doesn’t experience often. It’s not just about Megumi anymore, he knows that too well. It’s also about the life you’re building, the family you’ve already started. And deep down, he knows he wants to keep growing it.

Still, he wonders how you’ll feel about it. You’ve both been so focused on Megumi, on making sure he’s happy and cared for. Will you think it’s too soon? Will you worry about the shift it would cause in your lives again, the added responsibility?

These thoughts swirl in his mind as he considers how to approach the subject. He doesn’t want to push, but the desire is there, quietly persistent, tugging at him with each passing day.

So one evening, when the house is peaceful and the two of you are sitting together, watching Megumi’s small chest rise and fall as he sleeps, Toji finally lets the words slip out.

“Do you think… Megumi’s lonely?” His voice is soft, almost tentative. He’s not used to sounding uncertain, but this feels like new territory for him. “Like, maybe he’d do better with a sibling?”

The question hangs in the air, unspoken emotions carried within it, waiting for your response.

You pause for a moment, taking in Toji’s words. It’s not a question you expected, but knowing him, you realize this has been on his mind for a while. His concern for Megumi is clear, and the idea of giving your son a sibling is something you’ve thought about before, though not as seriously. But now, hearing it from Toji, you realize it’s more than just a passing thought—it’s a real possibility. 

You glance over at Megumi, fast asleep in his crib, peaceful and unaware of the weight of this conversation. He’s always been a quiet, introspective child, and it’s true—he doesn’t seem to enjoy the company of other kids all that much.

Your little boy is happy to be around you both, that was true enough. He always loves spending time with you both. But with other kids? It's a tough crowd when it comes to your little boy. 

But you’ve always assumed he’d grow out of it, that he’d find his own way to connect. Still, there’s a small part of you that wonders if Toji is right. Maybe Megumi is lonely, and maybe the best thing for him would be to have a sibling to share his life with.

You shift closer to Toji, resting your head against his shoulder. “I don’t know, baby.” you admit softly. “Maybe. He does seem to keep to himself a lot… but he’s still so young. Do you really think a sibling would make a difference?”

Toji lets out a low sigh, his arm wrapping around you as he considers his words. “I think it could. I mean, I didn’t grow up with much family, and I turned out…” He trails off, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well, let’s just say I don’t want that for Megumi. He deserves more.”

You smile at his attempt to lighten the mood, but the thought lingers in your mind. Toji’s childhood was different—lonely in a way that you know he doesn’t talk about often. Maybe that’s why this means so much to him. Maybe he wants Megumi to have something he never did.

“You think we’re ready for that?” you ask, glancing up at him. It’s a big decision, one that would change everything, again. But there’s something comforting about the idea, too. “I mean with how busy we are and Megumi…”

You’ve seen Toji with Megumi, the way he’s softened since becoming a father. And you love it. More than anything, it was what you think that fulfilled your life — making Toji a father and building a family. him.

But you haven’t thought about it just yet. But now that you’re thinking about it….the thought of adding another little one to your family, watching Toji bond with another child, feels right in a way that you hadn’t fully realized until now.

Toji meets your gaze, his expression more serious now. “I think we are. It’s not gonna be easy, but nothing ever is, right? We made it work with Megumi, and we’ll make it work again.”

His confidence reassures you, and the weight of the decision starts to feel less overwhelming. You’re not just thinking about yourselves anymore; you’re thinking about Megumi and the family you’re building together.

You lean into him, letting his warmth and the quiet of the evening wrap around you both. “Okay, okay….” you say softly, the decision settling into your chest. “Let’s think about it. For Megumi. For us.”

Toji presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice full of something deeper than just words. “For all of us.”

But thinking was one thing. Acting on it, especially when the two of you were so deeply drawn to each other—was something entirely different. Whenever the subject of expanding your family surfaced in conversation, it wasn’t long before the connection between you and Toji shifted into something more intense, more immediate.

There was an undeniable pull between you, something that seemed to ignite in the quiet moments when you were alone together, reminding you just how much you desired one another.

It would often happen in the evening, after a long day of work. The two of you would settle into the comfort of your apartment, exhaustion slipping away as you relaxed on the couch after dinner.

Toji would always keep you close, one arm draped over your shoulders, his hand absently tracing patterns on your skin. The world outside would fade as you settled into your quiet bubble, just the two of you in the stillness of the night.

And then, it would happen slowly at first, with a shared glance, a quiet breath, and the unspoken understanding that there was something deeper simmering beneath the surface.

Toji, always so sure in his movements, would gently guide you from the couch to the soft embrace of the bed, laying you down against the pillow with deliberate care, as if you were something precious. His hands would roam, teasing and familiar, as he removed your clothes piece by piece, his fingers gliding over your skin like he’d memorized every inch of you.

By the time his hand slid between your thighs, you were already lost to him, to the way he touched you with a practiced skill that sent shivers down your spine. His fingers worked their way inside you, slow and deliberate at first, drawing out every bit of pleasure as your body responded to him. 

The feeling was electric, the tension between you mounting with each passing second. Toji’s gaze was fixed on you, dark and focused, as if nothing else in the world mattered but the way you were falling apart beneath his touch.

You couldn’t think about anything else in those moments, not about the future or about giving Megumi a sibling. All you could focus on was the sensation of Toji’s fingers moving inside you, the heat of his body pressed against yours, and the sound of your breath hitching in your throat as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

Toji knew exactly what he was doing. He always did. The way he touched you, the way he whispered your name in that low, gravelly voice; it drove you wild, leaving you breathless and aching for more. You were wrapped up in him, in the way his fingers curled inside you, his thumb brushing over your most sensitive spot with a precision that made your head spin.

Your back arched, hips instinctively rolling against his hand as the pleasure built, your thoughts scattered in every direction except the present moment. Toji’s lips found your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, “You’re all mine,” his voice thick with want.

And in that moment, you were. Completely, entirely his. The rest of the world faded away, and all that mattered was the feeling of being lost in him, your body responding to his touch as you let go of everything except the pure, unadulterated pleasure he gave you.

Toji’s fingers moved with a deliberate intensity, his pace quickening as he watched you unravel beneath him. His focus was sharp, every movement calculated to drive you closer to your limit.

You couldn’t hold back the sounds that escaped you—soft gasps, whispers of his name, every noise pulling him deeper into his need for you. His lips brushed against your skin, kissing along your neck, while his other hand gripped your waist, holding you in place as your body arched against him.

"That's it, baby." he murmured, voice rough and low. The heat between you was almost unbearable, the air thick with the tension that always seemed to surge whenever you were alone together. 

He was lost in you, in the way your body responded to his touch. His fingers curled inside you, hitting just the right spot that made your breath catch, your hips instinctively lifting toward him as the pressure built in your core.

You were so close, the pleasure winding tight within you, and Toji could sense it. His thumb circled your clit with just the right amount of pressure, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through you. 

"You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you?" he whispered, his lips grazing your ear, the command in his voice leaving no room for anything else. "Let go. I’ve got you."

And just like that, the tension inside you snapped. Your body tensed, then released in a flood of warmth and sensation, a wave of pleasure crashing over you as you cried out, hands clutching at the sheets beneath you.

Toji’s fingers didn’t stop, drawing every last bit of pleasure from you as he held you through it, his lips pressed against your skin, murmuring soft, unintelligible words of praise.

Your body trembled beneath him, the aftershocks of your orgasm still pulsing through you as you tried to catch your breath. Toji slowly withdrew his fingers, but his touch remained gentle, his hand trailing softly along your thigh as he looked down at you, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“You’re perfect like this, baby.” he said quietly, almost to himself. His hand moved to brush a strand of hair away from your face, his eyes softening as they met yours. “Always so damn perfect.”

Your body is still coming down from the high when you look at him, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin as he hovers above you, his smirk deepening. There's a glint in his eyes, that unmistakable fire, as if the conversation you’d had earlier is still echoing in the back of his mind. 

You don’t even have to think too hard about it; it’s like an instinct when you tell him, voice breathless, “I want to give you a baby again.”

Toji’s grin widens, his brow arching slightly. “Oh, is that right?” he teases, his hand trailing lazily down your side, lingering on your hip. But then he leans in closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “What’s stopping you then, huh?”

You shake your head vigorously, letting out a soft hum of disagreement, not entirely trusting his intentions. Toji’s always been a dirty fucking liar when it comes to things like this, promising things he knows will make you weak, things you know he’ll never deliver on. 

Yet somehow, even knowing that, you still find it in yourself to love him. And maybe that's why, despite everything, you still let him have you like this, completely bare, letting him slide into you raw, no barriers between you.

He wastes no time, pushing your legs back, your knees nearly pressed up to your chest as he thrusts into you. The intensity is overwhelming, each deep stroke driving you further into the mattress, making your body shake under his relentless pace. 

Toji's grip is strong, controlling, one hand pinning your thigh back as the other rests on your waist, holding you in place like he owns you. And in these moments, it feels like he does.

He has a hold on you in ways you can’t quite explain, two different kinds of control—one physical, the other something deeper, emotional, binding you to him in a way that’s undeniable.

“You’re really getting into it huh, sweetheart?” His voice drips with mock sweetness, but there’s a dark edge to it, each word paired with a heavy, punishing thrust that knocks the breath out of you. “You want me to fill up that sweet little belly?”

His words are a tease, malicious in the way only Toji can be, his voice laced with cruel affection. His grin matches it, sharp and selfish, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, how every filthy promise pushes you closer to the brink. Your mind is spinning, caught between wanting to resist and wanting to give in completely.

Then, his pace slows slightly, his hand gripping your jaw as he forces you to look up at him, his gaze locking with yours. The teasing drops, replaced with something far more commanding. His eyes burn with an intensity that makes your stomach flip, and his voice, low and rough, sends shivers down your spine.

“Gimme fuckin’ words, baby.” he growls, his tone leaving no room for disobedience. “I need words.”

Your breath hitches, the weight of his command settling heavy in the pit of your stomach. You know what he’s asking for—he needs to hear it from you, needs the affirmation that you’re his, that you want this just as much as he does. His pace haughtily picks up again, a merciless rhythm, every thrust driving deeper as he waits for your response.

“I—” you try to catch your breath, your voice shaky as you struggle to form the words. But the sensation is too much, the way he’s filling you, stretching you, making it hard to think about anything but the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body. “I want you,” you finally manage, voice barely above a whisper.

Toji’s dark green eyes narrow slightly, unsatisfied with your answer. He grabs your chin harder, his pace growing even more ruthless. “That’s not enough, baby.” he growls, his voice a dangerous rasp. “Tell me. What do you want?”

Your mind is foggy, body trembling beneath him, and you can feel yourself on the edge again, teetering close to the point of no return. His dominance over you in this moment is absolute, and you can’t fight it, can’t resist the pull of his command. 

“I want you to fill me up, babe.” you finally gasp, your words spilling out in a rush, almost desperate. “I want your baby, Toji.”

His response is immediate, a low, satisfied groan rumbling from his chest as he picks up the pace, driving into you with a newfound intensity.

“That’s my good girl right there, hm?” he growls, his grip tightening as he slams into you with brutal force, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’re gonna take all of me, aren’t you? Gonna let me give you exactly what you asked for.”

Your body answers for you, already falling apart beneath him as his words send you spiraling into another wave of pleasure. Every thrust pushes you deeper into the mattress, your legs shaking, your breath ragged as Toji takes what’s his, just like he always does.

And even through the haze of pleasure, you know there’s no escaping him. Toji has you—mind, body, and soul—and there’s nothing you wouldn’t give him, nothing you wouldn’t do for him.

Toji’s grip on you tightens as the intensity between you both heightens. His hips slam into yours with an unrelenting force, each thrust harder and deeper than the last, driving you closer to the edge with every movement.

Your husband was too good at playing this game of pleasure. You were hanging on for dear life, stuck in a pleasurable pandemonium. The rough rhythm of his body against yours, combined with the filthy words spilling from his mouth, sends shockwaves through your entire being.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby.” he growls, his voice dark with possession. “You’re gonna let me fill you up, huh? Make you mine all over again, just like you want.”

You can barely form coherent thoughts as your body responds to him, legs trembling with the sheer force of his thrusts. The sounds of your shared breathing, the slap of skin against skin, and the creak of the mattress fill the room, an unspoken rhythm between you two that’s as primal as it is intimate.

You’re completely at his mercy, pinned beneath him, helpless to do anything but feel. This man occupies everything in you as easily as you breathe. And you wanted him. You wanted more of him.

“Toji—” you gasp, his name leaving your lips like a prayer, your nails digging into his shoulders, holding on to him for dear life. Your whole world narrows down to this moment, the heat of his body on yours, the way he’s completely taken over your senses.

He releases one of your legs, shifting slightly to lean down, his lips brushing against your ear, hot and heavy with every breath. “You’re gonna take all of it, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his tone laced with both a command and a dark kind of affection. “Every last drop.”

His words send a jolt through you, pushing you closer to the edge you’ve been teetering on. The pressure builds inside you, winding tight in your belly, threatening to snap at any second. And Toji knows it. He can feel the way your body clenches around him, the way your breath hitches with every thrust.

“Say it again, baby.” he demands, his pace somehow growing even more brutal, hips pounding into you relentlessly. “Tell me what you want.”

Your heart races, and it takes everything in you to gasp out the words between broken breaths. “I want you to fill me up… I want your baby, Toji, please—” Your voice is desperate, the plea tumbling out before you can stop it.

The satisfaction in his eyes is unmistakable, his lips curving into a wicked grin as he growls in response. “Good girl.”

And with that, he pushes you over the edge. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing beneath him as the pleasure crashes through you, wave after wave, your voice breaking as you cry out.

Toji doesn’t stop, his thrusts driving deeper, harder, drawing every last bit of pleasure from you until you’re left trembling, barely able to catch your breath.

He’s close too; you can feel it in the way his movements grow more erratic, his grip on your hips tightening as he chases his own release. He lets out a low, guttural moan, his pace faltering for a moment before he slams into you one final time, his hips flush against yours as he fills you completely, the warmth of him spilling deep inside you.

Toji’s body goes tense for a brief second, and then he collapses against you, his breath ragged and heavy as he rides out the last waves of his release. His hand moves to brush a strand of hair from your face, his eyes softened now, the intense fire in them dimmed into something more tender.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, still holding you close, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. “You’re perfect, perfectttt. Just like that, baby.” he murmurs, his voice quieter now, the raw edge gone. “Every damn time.”

You’re still catching your breath, your body exhausted but sated, the warmth of him pressed against you grounding you in the moment. There’s something comforting in the way he holds you after, a quiet reassurance that, despite his teasing and rough exterior, there’s a deep connection between you both that runs far beyond words.

Toji’s body stays pressed against yours, his breathing still heavy as he recovers from the intensity of what you just shared. The room feels warm, the quiet between you filled with the soft sounds of your breathing, the lingering sensation of him still deep inside you. For a moment, it’s peaceful, like you’re both floating in the afterglow.

But that peace doesn’t last long.

You feel him stir against you, his lips brushing over your skin, trailing soft kisses along your collarbone. His hand slides over your waist, fingers tracing lazy circles on your bare skin. There’s a shift in the air, a subtle change in his energy that you recognize immediately. He’s not done—not even close.

Your husband recovers so fast, you couldn't even help but wonder what sort of super human he is. When he gets excited, he won't stop until he makes that excitement have fulfilment. And Fushiguro Toji will take an take. His monster of pleasure demands to be full.

“Toji…” you whisper, your voice already betraying the anticipation that’s starting to build again. You feel his smirk against your skin, the low chuckle that vibrates through his chest as he kisses his way up to your neck, nipping softly at your pulse point.

“You didn’t think I was finished with you, did you? Need for my come to take, baby. Need to give you as much as possible.” he murmurs, voice dark with intent. His hand moves down, fingers grazing the inside of your thigh, teasing, as if testing your readiness for what’s to come. “Besides, baby, Iknow you can take more. You always do.”

Before you can even respond, Toji pulls out of you slowly, the absence of him leaving you aching, only to have him slide back in a moment later—deeper, harder, the sudden stretch drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. He groans softly, his hands gripping your hips as he starts moving, this time with a slower, more deliberate rhythm.

His hips roll against yours, each thrust precise, dragging out the sensation with agonizing slowness. You can feel him fully, every inch of him stretching you, filling you up completely as he starts to build up the intensity again. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him to take more of you.

“Toji—” you moan, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscles of his back as he presses you deeper into the mattress.

“Shh, baby. ” he whispers, leaning down so that his lips are inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “I’m gonna take my time with you, like I always do. You'd let me, won't you, mama?”

And he does. He moves at his own pace, each thrust measured and controlled, as if he’s savoring every second of being inside you. His eyes lock onto yours, that commanding intensity from earlier returning as he watches every reaction you give him.

It’s almost too much, the way he’s making you feel so exposed, so vulnerable beneath him, but you can’t tear your gaze away. You’re completely at his mercy. Perhaps even more than before. It was just the way it was between the two of you. And you can't help but want it.

His hand moves between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, rubbing in slow, tight circles that send sparks shooting through your core. The combination of his deep, deliberate thrusts and the focused attention on your most sensitive spot is overwhelming, and you can already feel the pressure building again, faster this time.

“You’re such a good baby girl, my little wife, huh?” he groans, his voice gravelly with desire. “You love it, don’t you? Love the way I fuck you, mama.”

You nod, unable to form words, your body reacting to him instinctively. His thick thumb presses harder against your clit, and your hips buck up toward him, chasing the pleasure that’s building so quickly it’s almost dizzying.

“Use your words, my baby. I need your words to be clear, hm?” he orders, his voice sharp and commanding. “Tell me how much you love it.”

“I— I love it, babe. I….Oh–” you gasp, barely able to get the words out as the pleasure coils tight inside you. “I love how you fuck me, Toji.”

“That’s it, baby. Good girl, my pretty wife.” he groans, his pace picking up as he drives into you harder now, more relentlessly. “You’re gonna come for me again, aren’t you? Like the good little wife you are? Gonna make me a daddy again, huh?”

You can feel yourself getting closer, every nerve in your body on fire as he takes you right to the edge again. His hand doesn’t stop, rubbing firm circles against your clit, and the pressure inside you becomes unbearable.

“Toji, please—” you moan, your voice desperate.

“I know, baby, I know.” he whispers, his pace quickening, his thrusts becoming rougher, more erratic as he chases his own release. “Come for me. I want to feel you fall apart again.”

His words push you over the edge, and your orgasm crashes through you, harder than before. Your body clenches around him, back arching as your eyes squeeze shut, the pleasure almost too much to handle. Toji groans low in his throat as he feels you tighten around him, his hips slamming into yours as he rides out every wave of your release.

You’re barely coming down from your high when you feel him thrust into you one last time, his grip on your hips bruising as he finally lets go, his own release hitting him hard. He moans your name, the sound of it rough and primal, as he fills you completely, his body going rigid above you.

For a long moment, neither of you move, the room filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, your bodies still tangled together. Toji’s weight is comforting against you, grounding you as you come back down from the intensity of everything that just happened.

Finally, he pulls out slowly, rolling onto his back beside you. His arm reaches out, pulling you close so that you’re curled against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder. There’s a soft, satisfied hum in his throat as he presses a kiss to your forehead, his fingers lazily stroking your arm.

“You’re something else, baby.” he murmurs, his voice full of lazy affection, though there’s still that edge of satisfaction in it, like he knows exactly how much control he has over you.

You don’t need to respond—he already knows how deeply he affects you, how much you need him just as much as he needs you. And as you lie there in the quiet, wrapped in each other’s warmth, you can’t help but think about how, despite all of Toji’s roughness and teasing, there’s no place you’d rather be than here, in his arms. And you wish, so desperately, that you could give him another child. 

══════════════════

epilogue

The next morning, you’re still tangled up in the sheets, but it’s not out of luxury. You try to move, but as soon as you shift an inch, your body protests with an aching reminder of exactly what Toji had done to you last night. Every muscle feels like it’s been through a battle, and you can't help but groan as you flop back onto the bed, surrendering to the pain.

From the doorway, you hear the sound of little footsteps padding across the floor. Megumi toddles in, clutching a stuffed animal under his arm, his wide eyes peeking over the edge of the bed. Behind him, Toji strides in, smirking like the smug devil he is.

“Morning, baby.” Toji says, far too chipper for someone who’d spent the entire night wrecking you. He’s holding a tray with what looks like breakfast—eggs, toast, and even a small bowl of fruit—but what stands out is the cup of coffee that you need more than air right now.

“Morning.” you croak, wincing as you try to sit up, only to immediately regret it. “I can’t feel my legs, babe. Pretty sure you broke me.”

Toji lets out a low chuckle, clearly proud of himself. “Yeah? Thought you liked it when I went all out.”

“Liking it and being able to walk after are two different things, you know.” you grumble, pulling the blanket up higher as Megumi stares at you with that same curious expression.

Toji sets the tray down on the bedside table, then leans down to kiss your forehead. “Guess I’ll have to carry you everywhere today, huh?” His voice is thick with amusement, and you shoot him a half-hearted glare, but honestly, you’re too tired to fight back.

“Please do, babe. I’m basically a noodle.”

Just then, Megumi climbs up onto the bed, his little hands gripping the edge as he pulls himself up with determination. He plops down beside you, his stuffed animal tucked under his chin. You smile, your heart warming despite the soreness, and Toji hands you the tray, still smirking like he’s king of the world.

“Breakfast in bed, as promised,” he says, crossing his arms like he’s just done you the biggest favor in the world. “Made it with Megumi. Though, uh, you might wanna avoid the toast. He helped with that.”

You glance down at the toast in question, one piece charred to a crisp, the other half-raw in the middle. “I see his culinary skills are coming along nicely.”

Toji laughs, sitting down at the edge of the bed. “Hey, he’s learning. Can’t all be naturals like me.”

You raise an eyebrow, but before you can shoot back a sarcastic remark, Megumi climbs into Toji’s lap, looking between the two of you with that innocent, wide-eyed look only toddlers can pull off. “Hm, hm. I love my good house husband, really.”

“As you should, baby.” He snickers back at you. “No one else will be like this for you but me.”

“I know, I know.” You say as you continue to eat.

He smiles and kisses your head. “Good.”

“Toji, babe….” you say, setting the tray aside and carefully reaching out to ruffle Megumi’s hair. “If I can’t walk today, you're on diaper duty.”

Toji looks genuinely horrified for a split second. "Now, wait a minute—"

"All your fault, Mr. 'let me give you a baby,’" you tease, biting into your eggs while giving him a pointed look. "So, now you get to deal with the consequences."

Megumi looks up at him, blinking with his bright big eyes, and Toji sighs dramatically. "Fine, fine." he says, giving you that classic Toji smirk. “But next time, you’re gettin’ the easy job.”

You roll your eyes, though there’s a playful smile on your face. “Next time, maybe go easy on me so I can still stand.”

Toji grins, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips, voice low and teasing. “No promises, baby.”

And with that, the morning unfolds with you lounging in bed, Fushiguro Megumi occasionally wandering over to offer you his stuffed animal, and Toji trying (and failing) to get through diaper duty without swearing under his breath. You can’t help but laugh at the sight of him, the big, tough man reduced to toddler chaos.

But despite everything;

the soreness, the teasing, the burnt toast—you wouldn’t have it any other way.

This is life.

[m4rv3l-girl]

Happens to the Best of Us - Part 4

Bucky x Y/N

Y/N took the test. Who’s gonna check it?

Note: I feel bad for the last part…kinda. (@mayafatimakhan)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Warnings: Possible pregnancy.

Time slowed as you and Bucky stood frozen, eyes locked on the small, plastic test lying on the counter between you.

The soft glow of the bathroom light highlighted his steady gaze, filled with unwavering support and gentle reassurance. For all his calm, though, you could feel the way his fingers trembled ever so slightly as they held yours, the weight of your collective hopes and fears pressing down on both of you.

Seconds stretched into eternity, each one pulsing with a nervous anticipation that filled the small space around you. You swallowed hard, barely daring to breathe. There was a strong chance that Bucky Barnes got you pregnant …

Your heartbeat echoed in your ears, loud and unsteady, almost drowning out the soft click of the timer on your phone counting down to the result.

Bucky squeezed your hand gently, his thumb stroking over your knuckles. “You good, sweetheart?”

You gave him a shaky smile, nodding even as you felt your knees weaken. “Just…a little nervous.” Your laugh was tight, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s eyes softened, and he brought your joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your knuckles. “Whatever happens, I’m right here, Doll. We’ll figure it out together.”

The warmth of his words wrapped around you, settling your anxious heart, if only just. You let out a slow breath, resting your head briefly against his shoulder, savoring the moment. As much as this was terrifying, it was also exciting, a moment you’d both dreamed of, even if it had seemed so far away not so long ago.

“You know we can’t just stare at it all night, Kitten?” he asked, his voice soft but steady, his expression a mix of excitement and trepidation.

“I know.”

“Want me to check?”

“No. Yes... Maybe…” You took a deep, calming breath, closing your eyes briefly before looking at him with a determined nod. “Yes. Go ahead.”

With a final squeeze of your hand, Bucky picked up the test, his face unreadable as he stared at the small screen.

The silence was thick, each heartbeat feeling like a lifetime, and you watched his face with bated breath, trying to glean anything from his expression. His brows knit together, and he tilted his head, squinting at the tiny symbols.

A long moment passed before he finally spoke, his voice hesitant and slightly confused. “Uh…I don’t know what this means, Doll…”

Your heart stuttered, and you blinked, feeling your breath hitch. “What? Am I knocked up or not?”

Bucky held the test closer to his face, his lips pressing into a thin line as he scrutinized it. “I don’t know! What does two blue stripes mean?” His bewildered expression was enough to break through your anxiety, a giggle escaping your lips despite yourself.

“Bucky, that means…that I’m pregnant.” The words left you breathlessly, the enormity of them hanging in the air between you.

Bucky’s eyes widened, the dawning realization transforming his face from confusion to awe. “You’re…we…we’re having a baby?” His voice was barely more than a whisper, his blue eyes shining as he looked at you, a flicker of joy lighting up his face.

You nodded, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you laughed, the sound giddy and full of wonder. “Yes, Bucky. We’re having a baby.”

Without a second’s hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in the warmth of his embrace and he was bouncing excitedly on his heels.

You felt him bury his face in your hair, his breath hitching against you as he held you tight, like he never wanted to let go. The two of you stood there, locked together in this perfect, fragile moment, neither of you daring to move.

Bucky pulled back slightly, his hands moving to cradle your face as he looked at you, his gaze filled with so much love it made your heart ache. His eyes shimmered, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “You’re really pregnant? I put a baby in you..?” he whispered, as if saying it aloud would make it more real.

You nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks, and he brushed them away gently, his thumb lingering on your skin. “Yeah, Bucky. Guess you really do have strong swimmers...”

A quiet, joy-filled laugh bubbled up from him, and he pulled you close again, his arms wrapping around you with a fierce protectiveness that felt like a promise. You could feel the gentle, steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek, grounding you, reminding you that this was real.

After a moment, Bucky’s hand drifted down, resting on your stomach with a reverence that brought a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you. “Hey there, little one,” he murmured softly, his voice a low, awestruck whisper. “It’s your dad.”

The words settled over you like a soft blanket, the reality of it sinking in. He was already looking at you with such pride, as if you’d done something extraordinary just by being here with him, by letting this miracle happen.

“Are you…happy?” you asked, voice thick with emotion, feeling the weight of his hand against your stomach, grounding you in this new, incredible reality.

Bucky’s answer was immediate. “Happy? I’m fucking- oh, Sorry. Small ears. I’m elated, Doll. I didn’t think I’d ever get to have something like this. Like you. I thought…” His voice trailed off, his expression tender, a vulnerability there that made your heart swell. “I never thought I’d be lucky enough to get a family.”

You reached up, cupping his face and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, pouring every unspoken word into the touch. “You deserve this, Bucky. You deserve every bit of happiness.”

He smiled against your lips, his gaze warm and overflowing with affection. “Guess we’re gonna be parents, huh?”

A bubble of laughter burst from you, and he joined in, the sound filling the bathroom, echoing in the tiny space and making it feel larger, warmer, like it held all the love in the world. He pulled you close again, resting his forehead against yours, both of you breathing in the joy of the moment.

After a few minutes, Bucky pulled back slightly, his expression shifting to a playful grin. “So…when can we go shopping?”

You blinked, laughing softly at the eagerness in his voice. “Already thinking about shopping? I haven’t even had a chance to process this.”

He shrugged, looking a little sheepish but still grinning. “Well, we gotta be prepared, right? Besides…” He placed a hand over your stomach again, his eyes shining with adoration. “I want our little one to have everything.”

Your heart melted at the words, and you leaned into him, feeling a deep, grounding sense of love and security. “Alright, but only if you promise we can take things slow. I think we have plenty of time.”

He grinned, a light in his eyes you hadn’t seen in ages. “Deal, Doll. But I’m not waiting too long—I’m already imagining them in a little Captain America onesie.” He chuckled, and you rolled your eyes, smiling as you let yourself get lost in his joy.

…………………………….………………………………………………..…………….………..

[sea-lanterns]

THE PURGE

synopsis: (slasher! AU) a group of purgers break into your home.

featuring: arlecchino, columbina, sandrone, signora

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, dom characters, mentions of blood, vague descriptions of murder, there is a body, mentions of weapons, home invasion, masked se.x, five.some, org.y, transfem! columbina (she has a di.ck), strap ons, oral (both reader and character receiving), face sitting, fing.ering, slight exhibitio.n, may be ooc, not proofread.

art credits: high rise invasion.

Unloading the last of your groceries from the car, you closed the trunk and began walking towards the front entrance of your house. It was a somewhat chilly, somewhat warm day, March 21st to be exact. While the weather was probably enjoyable to those outside of your country, today was going to be a day of misery to many. From March 21st to March 22nd, The Purge will take place; a twelve hour period in which all crime including murder was going to be legal. 

You weren’t exactly sure why your government decided to mandate such a brutal “holiday” but unfortunately as someone who didn’t participate in the Purge, this made your life a lot harder than usual. You had to take extra precaution throughout the year to not make any enemies in your life, even going as far as to shut yourself off from having any friends or close family. 

‘Just twelve hours…I’ve done it several times before, I can do it again.’ You told yourself, unlocking the door to your house. ‘I’ll have to set up the security system again. Only three hours until the Purge.’ 

“Hey neighbor!” You heard a familiar voice call, causing you to look over at your neighbor who was perched against his fence. “Three hours until the Purge, huh?” 

“Ahaha…yeah.” You were getting nervous. It was never a good idea to bring up the Purge with anyone. 

“Hope you’re prepared. Lots of psychos out there who have access to the most dangerous weapons available. I even saw a woman with a chainsaw last year. Had a leather mask and everything.”

“Yeah…” you smiled, but honestly you just really wanted to get in your house.Your neighbor –although seemingly friendly– always gave you the creeps and you tried your best to be on his good side no matter what. 

“Well…Hope for the best for you during this Purge!” He smiled unnervingly wide, making you shiver and fumble to open your door. “Yep! You too!” You called out quickly, shutting the door behind you as quickly as possible. You locked the door immediately and carried your groceries to the kitchen, where you proceeded to double check every exit of the house.

You went through the yearly ritual. Double checking the doors and barricading them with heavy furniture, locking every single window and drawing the blinds (you would activate the security systems later), as well as making your way down to the basement to make sure all your weaponry was secured. 

…And by weaponry, you really only meant the small handgun you kept in a safe down there. You weren’t a super strong person by any means, so a handgun was probably your best suited weapon when it came to defending yourself. However, the handgun was only used as a last resort, so luckily you’ve never had to use it before on any of the previous Purges. Hopefully this year you won’t have to use it still.

You grabbed the handgun and made sure it was loaded before making your way upstairs. Due to being a member of the upper class, you had managed to reinforce your home with a special security system used for keeping your home safe during the Purge. Though it was only three hours before the Purge started, you weren’t taking any chances and activated it now. 

You watched as every door and window in your house became protected beneath a large metal shutter, turning on your security cameras so you could watch whatever was happening outside from the safety of your home. You nestled into the cozy chair of your desk and mentally prepared yourself for another twelve hours of manslaughter you would have to endure. 

You watched from your phone as the infamous warning for the Purge began to play. The alarm never failed to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up on end, the long list of rules flying over your screen as you peeked through your security cameras. So far, the only things you could see were a bunch of hooligans setting fire to a trashcan in some random alleyway. Okay, not bad. You expected a few arsonists in your neighborhood anyway…

You grabbed a bag of chips from your snack stash and opened it, continuing to watch as you stuffed your face with food like you were binging your favorite TV show. Though the Purge was a very scary time, it never directly harmed you through all the years you survived…

At least, you thought. 

For the next two hours, you simply watched in the comfort of your own bedroom while people in your neighborhood were being slaughtered left and right. You winced when you watched a poor victim get a machete to the face by some woman in a hockey mask. Oof…that’s unfortunate. You heard another scream from afar as another victim got stabbed repeatedly with a kitchen knife by a woman wearing a ghost mask. Hm…why did they look familiar? You wonder if you’ve seen them before… 

You took a sip from your drink and laid back, before nearly jumping out of your skin upon spotting a group of Purgers on your porch. Despite being masked, you could tell from their figures that they appeared to be women, with four of them in total all staring at you through the security camera. 

‘Oh…shit.’ You felt your heart sink as you waited for them to say something, anything. You hadn’t expected any Purgers to actually bother you tonight, as the most that Purgers would do is knock over your trash cans and maybe graffiti your garage door. 

One of the Purgers —a woman wearing a dove-themed mask— stepped forward and smiled at the camera. She raised a delicate hand, before ringing the doorbell and speaking into the camera. 

“Hellooooo~ Is this (Reader)’s residence?” She sang beautifully, toying with the ends of her hair. You tried to figure out her appearance to see if she was familiar to anyone you knew or talked to, but you don’t recall ever meeting a woman with black hair and bright pink streaks. 

You stayed quiet, hoping that they would just assume you couldn’t hear them and move on. This however, didn’t work as the group of women were persistent.

“Hellooooo~ I know the cutie is in there…” The dove-masked women cooed, ringing your doorbell again before one of the other Purgers got impatient. A taller, blonde woman wearing a moth-themed mask grumbled and raised her weapon, “It’s no use. Let’s just find a weak spot and break in.” 

“Nooo! That’s so barbaric, we must treat a woman gently.” 

“We are quite literally, purging her home.” Another woman chimed in, this time a short woman with beige-colored hair wearing a doll mask. 

“Yes, but I would like her to respond before we break in.” The dove-mask pouts. 

“Enough.” Finally, the fourth woman spoke up, her posture and height intimidating as she stepped to the front. This time it was a woman wearing a harlequin mask, her gaze piercing through the camera. “We know you are listening, (Reader). It isn’t polite to keep your guests waiting.” 

She smirked at the camera, as if edging you to press the call button and respond. You felt as if your blood was being drained from your body, a morbid feeling of death looming over you like a cloud. You had no choice, if you didn’t respond they would just try and break in anyway, so perhaps it would be wise to try and convince them not to? 

You did not think that was plausible, but Purgers were still human. Maybe they will be human just for you… 

“C-Can I help you?” Fuckkkkk you did not mean to sound like a timid fast food worker working at the Drive Thru. You mentally cursed yourself as you watched the other four women smile at your compliance.

“There’s her cute voice!” The dove-mask exclaimed excitedly. “I was worried some other Purgers may have gotten to you already…” 

“Can I help you?” You stated again firmly, wanting them to leave as soon as possible. “If you’re looking to rob my house, I’m afraid I don’t have anything of value.” 

“Oh…sweetheart,” the harlequin-mask chuckled, sliding her hand across the handle of her bloody ax. “You’re in there.” 

Oh great. Yeah why bother spending the Purge robbing stuff that is actually useful to you, when you can murder people instead. Genius. 

“…Okay, I know what you are implying, but I beg of you not to kill me! I promise that after the Purge is over I will compensate for you all somehow. Whether it’d be money or anything else you’d like, I’ll do it!”

“Open those ears of yours, girl. We want you, not your house.” The moth-mask tsked, a bit of annoyance present on the edge of her voice. “We are coming in whether you like it or not. As long as you are inside, we will get in too.” 

“…No need to be so mean, Signora.” You heard the dove-mask huff, folding her arms. “Just hold tight, baby. We’re coming to find you~”

You let out a small, panicked squeak of terror and cut the mic, standing up from your seat and making your way to your drawer to check on the handgun you had stashed away. You couldn’t believe that this was the year you would have to use it, and your adrenaline was pulsing like crazy. 

‘All loaded’ you mentally prepared yourself for the worst, taking deep breaths and walking back to your computer monitors that displayed the cameras. You let out another panicked squeak when you saw that the Purgers had left your front porch, now scattered around your property doing god knows what. 

“Why this year of all years?” You whined, keeping your handgun close to you as you kept looking through the monitors. Okay, okay, they were just circling your house, no biggie. Their weapons appeared to be of class 1 only, so it would be next to impossible for them to break down your security systems. 

Really, though you were on edge, you should be relatively safe so long as the power doesn’t—

Almost as if your fate was being toyed at the hands of a God, your lights suddenly went out and the sound of your metal shutters started coming up. Oh…you were fucked now.

‘…I am dead.’ You wanted to scream, but knew better as it was time for survival. It was every woman for herself, no beating around the bush. Logistically you weren’t sure if you could take out four Purgers on your own, but if you were going to die tonight you were going to die fighting ugly. 

You heard one of your windows shatter and flinched when you heard footsteps now roaming the downstairs of your house. Okay, you got this. You technically have an advantage as you have a firearm and they don’t know where you are, you should play this safe. 

You held your breath and stealthily made your way downstairs, holding the gun. You saw the broken window in your living room, swallowing thickly before looking around to see if there was anyone around. Your eyes suddenly landed on a bloody trail that looked as if a body had been dragged through your house. Did they just kill someone? 

You suddenly heard a thud behind you and whirled around quickly, only to accidentally let out a gasp when you saw the dead body of your neighbor just lying there on your kitchen floor. You managed to hold in a scream, but it was no use when you felt strong arms hold you from behind, a yell escaping your throat as you felt one of the Purgers’ grip on you.

“Mm…not a screamer…quite the silent one, aren’t you?” You heard a rough, raspy voice as the woman behind you grabbed your gun and tore it away with ease. Just how strong was she?! Your breath hitched when you felt the sharp end of a knife press against your throat, her voice humming with pleasure. “I like quiet girls.”

From your peripheral vision you saw that it was the Purger with the harlequin mask, her hair mostly white with a few streaks of black, yet another person you were not familiar with. Footsteps then entered the kitchen from the thick fog of darkness, a giggle leaving another one of the Purgers. 

“You caught her! Heh, I guess you won this one, Arle~!” It was the Purger with the dove-mask, her cute and feminine voice not matching her appearance at all as her white dress was covered in blood. “I want to pet her!” 

“Wash your hands, Columbina.” Another voice came, this time it was the doll-masked Purger who came walking out of the darkness. “I don’t want you getting blood all over her. She’ll stink.” 

“A little blood won’t hurt her, Sandrone.” 

You whimpered when the woman named “Columbina” walked closer to you, her sadistic smile present as she ran her fingers across your cheek. You would flinch away if not for the harlequin mask —you believe she was called Arle?— holding you in place, her muscles tightening around you and preventing you from squirming. 

“Ah…how cute!” Columbina cooed. “I almost feel bad for scaring her, she looks like she’s about to cry.”

“She looks prettier that way.” Came a deeper, more mature voice, as the moth-masked woman —Signora, if you remembered correctly— came into view. You gulped when Signora strutted over to you and took your chin in her hand, admiring you from behind her mask and turning your face to look at all your angles. “Loosen your grip a bit, Arlecchino. The girl looks like she’s about to pass out from blood circulation.” 

Arlecchino let out a titular hum. “And why would I do that? If I let her go, she can run off.” 

“Not with us here. We all can catch her quite easily.” Sandrone said matter-of-factly. 

“I suppose that wouldn’t hurt.” Arlecchino leaned down and whispered gravely into your ear. “I don’t recommend running, little one. All four of us can hunt you down quite easily, and if you ran out into the open during the Purge, well…”

She chuckled and playfully blew on your ear. “Someone else might get to you before us.” 

Your body involuntarily shivered and you felt the back of your ear grow hot. Upon seeing how much of an impact she had on you, Arlecchino smirked and carefully let go of you. 

You should run. In fact, you weren’t sure why you were staying in place surrounded by these murderous women. Every instinct and sense of logic in your brain was telling you to make a run for it, but another part of you knew that it was fruitless to even make it out of your house. 

“You know, you should be thanking us.” Signora said coldly. “Without us here, you probably would’ve been murdered by that neighbor of yours.” 

“Wh-What?”

“Oh! She speaks…” Columbina giggled. “Believe it or not, we found him messing around with some circuit box in your yard. Looks like he was the one who knocked out the power to kill you himself.”

Your eyes landed on the body of your neighbor laying on the floor. His eyes still wide open like he was stuck in time, lips parted like was in the middle of screaming before meeting his bloody demise. “Of course…we took care of him for you! Wouldn’t want our pretty girl to get hurt.”

Columbina smiled and kicked his body away like it was nothing, looking up at you like they had just done a great thing. You kept looking between the Purgers and the dead body of your neighbor, unable to cope with the fact that this would be the first Purge where you might end up like another body bag. 

“…Is this where I get killed now?” You laughed weakly, cold sweat dripping down your face. “I…I’m not sure what else to do at this point, get on my knees and beg for my life?”

“Ooh. I like the kneeling and begging part.” Sandrone comments bluntly. Meanwhile, the other women chuckle at your pathetic display, with Arlecchino pulling you towards her and murmuring in your ear. 

“Oh, we aren’t interested in hurting you. At least not that much.” She suddenly slid her hands up your stomach and towards your breasts, a gasp leaving your lips when she fondled them through your shirt. ”…Soft.” 

“Easy now, Arlecchino. She hasn’t accepted yet.” Signora hums, gently pulling Arle’s eager hands away from your chest. Arlecchino slips out a small growl of dissatisfaction, but pulls away anyway to comply with Signora’s requests. Despite how refined Arlecchino seemed to be, you could tell she was a woman of a lot of restraint, and she had been itching to feel you up despite her calm demeanor. 

“If it wasn’t obvious by Arlecchino’s…desires,” Signora comments, stroking your face, “We want your body, but not in the way that you think.” 

“You’re just so pretty…especially when your bottom lip wobbles in fear,” Columbina whispers. “How could we not want you this way?”

Oh…oh.

Now you know why they haven’t killed you yet. 

“Look at her face, all dumb and bewildered.” Sandrone comments, the faintest of grins appearing on her face as she took in your confused expression. 

“What do you say, let us have some fun with you?” Arlecchino purrs from behind, making you shiver in anticipation and a little bit of curiosity. 

“…I suppose.” You said softly, a little hesitant to agree. 

“Oh my, what a promiscuous thing she is,” Signora comments, a sly smile making its way to her lips. “Wanting to take all four of us at the same time, what a whore.” 

“Easy now, Signora. She can’t help how curious she is.” Columbina smiles, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm. “Arle~ Be a dear and carry the poor lamb upstairs. The dead guy is killing the mood.”

“Of course.” Arlecchino grinned wolfishly and took you in her arms, throwing you over her shoulder like it was nothing while going up the stairs. You could only watch helplessly as the three other women followed after you, smiling at how utterly pathetic you looked while being carried by Arlecchino with one arm. 

…You weren’t sure how you got up to this point. One moment you were almost pissing your pants in fear, and the next you were suddenly thrown into your bed and surrounded by four Purgers. All of them stared down at you with a look of pure joy in their eyes, practically ravishing you on the bed with just their gaze alone. 

Surprisingly, it was Sandrone that made the first move. For as quiet as she was, the woman crawled on top of you and grabbed your face for herself, pulling you into a kiss. 

“Oh my! I didn’t expect Sandrone to be so eager…” Columbina giggled. Meanwhile, in the corner of your eye; you could see Arlecchino unzipping her pants and Signora taking off her gloves. 

You couldn’t watch them for long, however; as Sandrone forcefully pushed you back and shoved her tongue down your mouth, turning the kiss into a more seductive dance of tongues. The doll-masked woman moaned at the taste of you, pulling you in closer to her as she aggressively pushed her hands up your shirt. 

“Mm…what a sloppy kisser. I could tell you’ve never had another woman in your mouth before.” Sandrone pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your tongue with hers. “Don’t worry, we’ll fix that for you.” 

“Arle, no need to be so impatient. She’s still on the bed.” You heard Signora gently scold Arlecchino and looked over to see what she was doing. The harlequin woman was gritting her teeth and tugging her trousers off as fast as she could, the base of a harness and what looked to be a crimson-colored strap peeking through the gap of her zipper. 

Oh…they were prepared for this. 

“Hey. Don’t look at her, look at me.” Sandrone sounded annoyed and gripped your face to look at her again, pulling you in for a kiss. 

“Pfft. Sandrone is getting jealous.” You felt the bed space behind you dip, and in the midst of making out with Sandrone, you felt Columbina’s lithe and petite body encircle yours. “Let’s see how good you taste.” 

Columbina’s lips latched onto the back of your neck, sucking and nibbling on your skin hard enough to leave a few bruises. The choked whimpers you let out made the dove-mask and doll-mask moan with pleasure, Sandrone pulling you more against herself while Columbina grinded her hips from behind. 

As Sandrone’s hands fondled your breasts under your shirt, you felt something small yet hard growing under Columbina’s dress. It was clear the two women were getting heavily turned on, with how Sandrone was starting to tug off your shirt and Columbina grinding faster against you. 

“Let’s put that sloppy tongue to use.” Sandrone comments bluntly, lowering you down against the bed as she raises her dress to pull off her panties. Columbina takes her position between your legs, pulling your pants off and eagerly wanting to stuff her face in your cunt. “No teeth now. Try to be a good girl.” Sandrone slides her panties off and spreads her legs over your awaiting mouth, using her fingers to give you quite the show of her sweet pussy glistening with juices. The doll-masked woman didn’t wait for another second and took her place at her rightful seat, letting you taste the sweet tang of her cunt smothering your lips. 

Meanwhile, Columbina was eagerly pulling your own panties down with her hands, her tongue —which was freakishly long— swiped at her bottom lip the moment she saw your bare entrance. “Mm…Gotta make sure you’re wet enough to take Arle’s strap.” She whispered, parting your legs gently –though her nails were digging into your thighs– and licking a long stripe across your clit. 

“Nnnh–!” You moaned into Sandrone’s own clit, causing her to buck her hips needily. “Fuck…her tongue feels so good.” 

“I can only imagine,” Columbina coos, smothering her face deeper and darting her hot tongue out quickly. Her hands trailed down to her dress and began lightly jerking herself off while she ate you out, moaning into your thighs as she ravished your insides. You hadn’t expected to be double teamed so easily, but you didn’t mind, eating out Sandrone and tasting her folds more thoroughly while Columbina masturbated to the taste of you. 

“Are you– mmppgh…guys ready?” Sandrone moans out sweetly, riding your face harder as she looks back at Arlecchino and Signora. Both women had stripped out of their festive Purger outfits, with Arlecchino wearing nothing but a thick, girthy strapon and Signora dressed in the prettiest lingerie you had ever seen. “Oh come on Signora, that’s– fuck, overkill for the Purge, isn’t it?” 

“The girl likes it.” Signora tuts, casting you a smirk beneath her mask. “Is she wet enough, Columbina?” 

“Nope!” Columbina pulls her head away from between your thighs, her face smeared in all your juices while your thighs are left a trembling mess. 

“Liar.”

“She needs to be wetter! Let me eat her out more!”

“Columbina.” Arlecchino finally makes her presence known, crawling over to the bed and pulling her hair back, forcefully pulling her away from your cunt. Columbina whined and gave Arlecchino a glare, not quite finished with eating you out yet. “Arle, I said she needed to be wetter.”

You couldn’t believe you had four women in your bed, all fighting for you during the Purge. You would voice your concerns if not for Sandrone still whining and grinding on your face so roughly. Though the woman was a small, seemingly gentle woman, it was obvious she was one of the more desperate ones of the group. 

“Suck on her tits or something. I want her tight cunt swallowing my strap.” Arlecchino growled, possessively stroking your thigh while Columbina huffed. “Fine.” She gave your inner thigh one last bite, causing you to jolt and accidentally make Sandrone come from the sudden movement. 

“Oh– nnngh!” Sandrone’s little legs trembled greatly, her orgasm washing over her as she ground her hips more firmly. The sweet, succulent taste of her cum washed down your throat, making your eyes flutter shut in how good Sandrone tasted. “Was her tongue game that good, Sandrone?” Columbina purred, suddenly taking an interest in your mouth. “Yeah, her movements are amateaur at best, but somehow feel really good?” 

“Heh, good enough for me.” Columbina proceeded to shove Sandrone off and take her place, dangling her small, yet very eager cock in front of your lips. “Let’s get those pretty lips sucking me off, hm?” She smiled and caressed your cheek before slipping her tip inside, watching with satisfaction as you took all of her length so easily. Meanwhile, Arlecchino and Signora were more occupied on your raw pussy, which was twitching with need after being neglected for too long. Signora cooed and pressed a teasing kiss to your clit, lightly blowing on it before rising to focus on your breasts. 

“Poor baby is feeling neglected up here, huh?” She teased, the blonde woman leaning in to lick a long stripe across your tits before latching one nipple in her mouth. She took pleasure in the way your back arched off the bed, the Fair Lady’s tongue swirling around hungrily as her fingers swirled around your clit. “Give me some lube, Arle. I want to finger her for a bit before you start.” 

You heard the sound of growl before Arlecchino reluctantly obliged. “Make it quick, I want to fold her into the mattress myself.” She gave Signora a bottle of lube and you could only moan when you felt the Fair Lady’s cold fingers circle your entrance with a slimy substance coating them. When you moaned however, you choked on Columbina’s cock, causing her to groan and buck her hips. “Goodness her throat is…quite tight.”

Signora chuckled at that and pressed her fingers deeper into your entrance, watching with great pleasure as they sunk in with little to no resistance. “And quite wet. You did a good job of loosening her up, Columbina.” Signora proceeded to finger you to see just how far you could take her. Her fingers –which were very long and thin– stretching you out and brushing up against all your tender spots to see which ones would make you squirm. 

As this was happening, you felt Columbina’s tiny cock start twitching in your mouth, signaling that she was getting close. Unable to keep your moans to yourself, you stifled a small whine and traced the underside of her shaft with your tongue, watching as her face made all sorts of lewd expressions. “Oh f-fu– I’m gonna come…” she whimpered, riding your face faster before shooting a hot load down your throat and throwing her head back. 

“Oh? What a good girl, making two of us orgasm already.” Signora hummed, pulling her fingers out and licking them clean. “I guess it’s time to get to the main event now.” 

Columbina tiredly got off you and went to join Sandrone, who was lying blissfully on the bed and watching how you took the final two women. The taste of sex and cum lingered on the back of your tongue, yet you were now hooked. You gazed at Arlecchino who had been waiting impatiently at the foot of the bed, stroking her fat strap and making sure you saw. 

“Hold her down, Signora.” Arlecchino commanded, watching as you were manhandled to switch positions. No longer were you lying flat on your back, as you were now sat up against Signora with her chest against your back, bare breasts and stomach pressed against your skin and making you shiver. “Such a good girl, letting us manhandle you as we please…” Signora’s deep, husky voice whispered in your ear, her hands making their way down to your thighs and keeping them spread for Arlecchino. “Have fun with her, Arle.” 

Arlecchino didn’t need to be told twice. She crawled on top of you and angled her strap to brush against your entrance. Her eyes narrowed as she saw how needy your pussy was after going through three women, seeing how twitchy and puffy it was. “You three really did a number on her.” She mumbled, brushing the tip of her strap between your folds. When you trembled and let out a gasp at the feeling, both Arle and Signora smirked, with Signora trailing her hands down to pull your folds apart. 

“Do your worst. She wants it.” 

Arlecchino grinned and sandwiched you against Signora, slowly pushing her strap into you and watching as you were speared open on her faux cock. “Fuck– she’s tight still…” She grumbled, enjoying the way your pussy gripped the silicone so roughly. 

“Well you did buy a girthy one.” Sandrone says matter-of-factly. 

“I know, but she seems to enjoy it anyways.” Arlecchino laughed wolfishly and continued to spear you open while your cunt struggled to accommodate her girth. You had never felt so full before when taking a toy, letting out sweet whimpers as the smallest beads of tears formed at your lashes. 

“Oh, don’t cry…” Signora hummed behind you, licking your tears away. “It’ll feel so good soon~”

The harlequin let out a grunt as she pushed her hips further, watching as her strap finally nestled itself comfortably inside you. She could see the slightest bit of arousal pool at the base of her strap, and that only spurred her on more, starting to thrust at a shallow pace. You threw your head back against Signora’s shoulder, feeling her soft lips press kisses on your tear-dotted face. Arlecchino was just so deep, filling your insides on just her girth alone while she thrusted. 

“My…what a peculiar sight.” Arlecchino chuckled, her eyes filled with pure desire as she saw you trembling beneath her. Your legs pathetically squirming yet being held down, clearly overstimulated now that you had to go through the fourth Purger. 

“I haven’t even bottomed out yet.” She smiled wickedly, pinning you in place while she nearly folded you in half. If not for Signora sitting there behind you, you were sure she would have pushed you into a full on mating press into the mattress. “Hold her tighter, I’m going all in.” 

Every woman in the room watched with interest as Arlecchino took a deep breath and slowly inched herself deeper until your cunt hit her harness. With each inch, you felt a loud whine rip through you, the fat tip of Arle’s strap pushing against your walls and forming a slight belly bulge. “Oh my…” Signora’s eyes glazed over with lust, trailing her hand up to rest atop the bulge. “Look how deep you are in her, Arle.” 

“How cuteee!” Columbina cooed. “I wanna give her a belly bulge too!”

“Maybe another time. The poor girl looks as if she’ll pass out after this round.” 

All four women leered at you hungrily before Arlecchino pulled out and slammed back in. They took great pleasure in watching Arle ravage your insides, wet smacks filling the air as your expressions formed into even lewder ones. Signora looked the most ecstatic, her hand gently pushing down on the bulge each time Arle bottomed out and thrusted back into you. 

The extra force of Signora pushing down on your stomach and Arlecchino fucking you like an animal was almost too much to handle. Each punctuated thrust of Arlecchino’s hips made your poor body bounce rather weakly, your legs scrambling to pull away from Signora’s grip and latch around the harlequin’s waist. 

“She’s getting close. I can feel it…” Arlecchino growled, craving to see your cum form a ring around her base. “Come for me…I know you can do it.” 

She held onto your ankle and gave it a small kiss, looking down at you as you writhed around like a worm. The way your leg twitched and the tears trailed down your face was enough to make all the girls swoon over you harder. You were just too cute, they were glad they broke in to get you. 

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you felt your pussy tense up before cumming all over Arlecchino’s strap. The harlequin groaned at the sight and started thrusting even faster, going feral at the sight of your cum drenching her faux cock and helping you ride out your orgasm. The other woman in the room giggled at the sight of you reduced to a whining, babbling mess, Arlecchino finally pulling out and admiring how soaked you made her strap. 

“Goddamn…” she grunted, dropping your legs to the bed and watching as you collapsed against Signora, too tired to even keep your eyes open. 

“Look at her, barely able to stay awake.” Sandrone comments, gently massaging one of your thighs. “We really did a number on her.” 

“Awww, I really wanted to fuck her too.” Columbina pouts, tracing the hickies and bite marks the women left on your body.

“Maybe when she wakes up. For now, let’s let the poor girl rest.” Signora gently caressed your cheek and gave you a small kiss. “Close your eyes, little one. We will keep you safe throughout the rest of the Purge.” 

Arlecchino crawls up to join you by your side, pulling you against her while all the other women adjust to snuggle around you, essentially turning this into one big cuddle pile. “Rest well,” Arlecchino whispers huskily, your eyes growing heavier as you bask in the embrace of the four Purgers who broke into your home, yet showed you the best way to celebrate the gory holiday.

“Happy Purge.” 

[wholoveseggs]

Kinktober - {Day Thirty-One} {<- kinktober masterlist}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List} {Kinktober}

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ HAPPY HALLOWEEN ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

{Elijah Mikaelson X Klaus Mikaelson x f!Reader} Request {@originals23}: Well, I am all for Elijah, but Kinktober without Klaus must not happen;) I therefore request a Klaus story with a female reader and kinks 15 (m/m/f) and 17. Maybe with some jealousy as Klaus doesn't like to share. ;) Hope you are feeling a bit better! Thanks!!

♡♡♡ Hiii darling @originals23 you know how much I adore you~ And of course the other man in this ménage à trois HAS to be Elijah ♡♡♡

7.3k words - Kinks: costumes, lots of blood drinking, threesome, lots of flirting, a haunted house && Klaus and Elijah competing over you in bed ...

“You’re joking.” Rebekah’s tone was flat as she stared you down in the doorway, her disapproval nearly tangible.

You blinked at her, feigning innocence, and looked down at your outfit as if trying to figure out what could possibly be the problem. “What?” you asked, tilting your head. “Is something wrong with it?”

Rebekah’s gaze didn’t waver, taking in every inch of your ‘vampire’ costume. The short, form-fitting dress, plunging neckline, lace gloves, and, of course, the dramatic collar. 

“Is this supposed to be funny?” she asked, her voice dripping with barely-contained irritation. “I thought you’d have more taste than to show up looking like that.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be such a buzzkill!” You laughed, waving off her disapproval with a flick of your hand. “It’s Halloween, and I’m here to have fun.”

Rebekah’s lips tightened. “You do realize there will be actual vampires at this party?” she said, her eyes narrowing.

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “So... they’ll get the joke then?”

Rebekah sighed, moving over to sit at the edge of her bed as she slipped on the ridiculous hot pink heels she had chosen to complete her Barbie costume. The look suited her in a way that only added to her usual allure: effortlessly beautiful and intimidatingly flawless. “I don’t think you quite understand,” she started, giving you another withering glance.

“Sorry? Didn’t catch that,” you interrupted with a grin, pulling a pair of plastic fangs from your pocket and popping them into your mouth. Turning dramatically, you flashed her your best vampy grin.

Rebekah let out an exasperated sigh, but you saw the slight grin that tugged at the corner of her mouth. You always had a way of making her laugh, even when she didn’t want to. “I’m being serious,” she told you, standing up and reaching for her handbag.

“Ya don tink I can sedu a ampire like tis?” you said, grinning wider, struggling to speak around the fangs. You barely had time to flinch as Rebekah reached over and snatched the fangs right out of your mouth, tossing them over her shoulder without so much as a second glance.

“Hey!” you protested, trying to catch them as they sailed behind her. “I was just starting to get the hang of those!”

Rebekah rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she looked at you with a smirk. “Honestly, you’re hopeless. And I can’t imagine what Elijah and Klaus will think when they see you dressed like… well, that.”

At the mention of their names, you felt a warm flush rise in your cheeks. You quickly looked away, pretending to fix a wrinkle on your dress. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you muttered, hoping the blush wasn’t as obvious as it felt.

“Oh, please.” Rebekah’s grin widened, clearly enjoying your sudden shyness. She had known for a while about the little crush you had on her brothers, but she had never outright called you on it. Not until now.

You gave her a wary look, but she only shook her head, laughing softly.

“That dress is definitely going to test their self-control. Elijah, I suppose, will try to behave himself. But Klaus? Good luck with that. He’ll probably drag you off to some dark corner the second he sees you.” She smirked, leaning in conspiratorially.

The flush in your cheeks deepened, and you turned away, embarrassed. But Rebekah wasn’t finished. She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“Or maybe you wouldn't mind that. Maybe you're hoping for it." She raised an eyebrow, studying your reaction carefully. "If you had to choose one of them, which would it be? Elijah, or Klaus?"

You swallowed hard, feeling your face grow hotter. Your pulse was racing, and you knew she could hear it, could sense the quickening of your heartbeat. But there was no point in lying to her. She would know if you did.

"Both," you whispered back, meeting her gaze at last.

Your face was definitely burning now, and you bit your lip nervously. The thought of either one of them alone was enough to make you weak in the knees. The thought of both of them... well, it was almost too much to imagine.

Rebekah's grin widened, and she leaned back, looking satisfied.

"That's what I thought," she said, chuckling softly. Then, with a shrug, she turned away, heading toward the door. "Well, come on, then. Let's go. We can't keep them waiting forever."

You hesitated, still flustered from her teasing. But after a moment, you followed her, trailing behind her out of the room and down the stairs to the party happening in the courtyard.

The place was decorated to the nines, just like any other Mikaelson party, with elaborate decor, dim lighting, and an ever-growing throng of guests mingling and dancing to the live music. The scent of alcohol and expensive perfume filled the air, and you caught sight of a few familiar faces, including Marcel and Cami. They both looked like they were having fun, chatting and laughing as they sipped their drinks.

You felt a rush of relief at seeing them, glad that there would be someone else around to help ease the tension. The last thing you needed was to be alone in a room full of vampires, especially in your current outfit.

You followed Rebekah through the crowd, trying to stay close behind her so as not to get separated. As you approached the bar, you saw a few of the vampires look your way, and you quickly averted your gaze, pretending not to notice.

You could feel their eyes on you, and the weight of their stares made the back of your neck prickle. Wearing this costume was so funny when you imagined it, but the reality was far more nerve-wracking.

You tried to push the anxiety aside, focusing instead on the music and the atmosphere. The music was loud and pulsing, with a heavy bass that vibrated through your body, and the lights were dim enough to make everything feel a bit surreal, like you were walking through a dream.

You spotted Elijah at the bar, nursing a glass of wine and talking with Hayley. He looked dashing as always, dressed up as a 1920s gangster. His suit was perfectly tailored, and his hair was slicked back, making him look more like a mob boss than a vampire. It was a very good look on him, and you felt your pulse quicken as he glanced your way, his gaze lingering on your outfit for a moment before returning to the conversation.

Klaus was nowhere to be seen, but you figured he must be around somewhere. He wouldn't miss his own party.

As you approached the bar, Marcel and Cami waved you over, inviting you to join them. Marcel chuckled at your outfit, shaking his head as he took in the whole thing.

"Nice costume. Did you leave your fangs at home?" he asked, laughing.

You blushed, smiling sheepishly. "Yeah, Rebekah wasn't really a fan," you admitted, glancing over at her. She had joined Elijah and Hayley, and the three of them seemed engrossed in their conversation.

"I like it, it's very bold," Cami chimed in, giving you a reassuring smile. She was dressed as a butterfly, with big, sparkly wings and a glittery top. It suited her well, bringing out her bright eyes and golden hair.

"It's supposed to be a joke," you explained, a bit self-consciously. "I figured if I showed up looking like a cliché, maybe the actual vampires would find it funny. Guess not, though."

Marcel shrugged, taking a swig of his drink. "I think you look hot," he told you, grinning. He was dressed as a prince, complete with a crown and fake sword. "You're definitely turning some heads tonight."

Cami nudged him with her elbow, rolling her eyes. "You're such a flirt," she teased, shaking her head. "Ignore him, he's just saying that because he thinks it'll get him lucky."

Marcel feigned innocence, raising his hands. "Who, me?"

You laughed, relaxing a bit. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

"You must check out the haunted house," Cami said, gesturing across the courtyard. There was a small building, covered in fake cobwebs and skeletons, that had been transformed into a spooky attraction for the party.

"It's pretty awesome, there are some seriously creepy creatures in there," Marcel added, giving you a sly smile. "Some of them might even bite."

Just then, you heard the familiar sound of Klaus' voice coming from behind you. You turned, and your heart skipped a beat as you caught sight of him. He was dressed as the Phantom of the Opera, and the mask accentuated his handsome features perfectly, making him look even more mysterious and dangerous than usual. His gaze fell on you, and he grinned, his eyes darkening with hunger.

"There you are," he said, his voice low and husky. "I've been looking for you."

Marcel and Cami exchanged a look, and you could see the amusement in their eyes. You swallowed hard, trying to compose yourself.

"H-hey," you stammered, your voice cracking slightly.

"Interesting choice in costume," he teased, his gaze raking over you slowly.

You felt your cheeks grow hot under his scrutiny, and you bit your lip, trying not to squirm.

"Do you like it?" you managed, giving him a coy smile.

Klaus' lips curved into a wicked grin, and he stepped closer, his hand moving up your arm. "I think it's perfect," he murmured, his fingertips trailing along the choker around your neck.

You couldn't deny that you enjoyed the way his gaze seemed to undress you, and you swallowed hard, feeling a familiar warmth pooling between your legs. You couldn't remember ever being this affected by someone, and the fact that it was Klaus only made it worse.

"Well, I'm glad someone has good taste," you said, forcing a lighthearted tone, trying not to let him know how flustered you were.

"Mmm, indeed." Klaus' fingers traced the collar of your dress, brushing against your skin and sending a thrill through you. He moved closer, his other hand settling on your waist as he bent down to whisper in your ear.

"But I think it could be improved," he breathed, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "You need a real bite."

Before you could respond, he dipped his head, his fangs grazing the side of your neck, just above your pulse. Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart began to race.

Marcel cleared his throat, and you suddenly remembered where you were. You flushed, pulling back a little and glancing around, noticing that several people were staring at you.

He chuckled and pulled away, giving you a wicked grin. He was teasing you, and you both knew it. But there was no denying the heat in his gaze, or the way his fingers tightened on your waist, as if he wanted to pull you closer.

"Save me a dance later?" he murmured, his thumb stroking over your hip bone.

You nodded, still a little breathless. "Of course," you managed, licking your lips.

His eyes followed the movement, his gaze darkening. "Good." He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering against your skin. "I'll hold you to that, love."

With that, he stepped back, giving you a wink before turning and heading back into the crowd.

You let out a shaky breath, your heart pounding. It was almost overwhelming how attracted you were to him, and it didn't help that he knew it, too.

Marcel and Cami exchanged a knowing look, and you rolled your eyes at them.

"Oh, shut up," you muttered, taking a long sip of your drink.

They laughed, shaking their heads.

"It's about time, though," Cami said, grinning.

"I'll drink to that," Marcel agreed, raising his glass.

You gave them a warning glare, but they just laughed harder. "I'm going to check out the haunted house," you announced, turning on your heel and walking away.

Their laughter followed you as you crossed the courtyard, heading toward the small building. Your mind was racing, replaying the way Klaus had looked at you, the way his touch had sent a thrill through you. You knew you were blushing, and you were grateful for the cover of darkness as you slipped inside the attraction.

You immediately regretted the decision. It was dark and creepy, filled with cobwebs and skeletons, and the eerie soundtrack only made it worse. There was definitely a spell or two involved, the entire atmosphere was designed to put guests on edge.

You wandered through the maze of corridors and rooms, trying to find the exit. There was something about the dark corners and flickering candles that made you uneasy, and you couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching you.

You reached a dead end and cursed under your breath, turning back. A sudden loud scream came from the speakers, and all the lights began flashing, making your heart leap into your throat. You hurried forward, desperately searching for a way out.

You turned a corner, running blinding for the exit. But instead of finding the door, you crashed into a hard body, nearly falling over. Two strong arms wrapped around you, steadying you, and you gasped as you looked up into familiar brown eyes.

"Elijah," you breathed, clutching his chest. "I'm so sorry, I didn't see you."

He chuckled, his hands resting on your hips. "That's quite alright,"

"I-I was looking for the exit," you explained, a little embarrassed.

He grinned, stepping back and gesturing to a nearby door. "You've found it," he said, taking your hand and leading you through.

The fresh air hit you, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. Elijah's touch was still making your pulse race, and you couldn't deny that you had been hoping to run into him, too.

"I'm sorry if I startled you," he said, his thumb tracing over the back of your hand. "Need a drink?"

"Please," you breathed, following him as he led you toward the bar.

He ordered two drinks, handing one to you and lifting the other in a toast. You clinked your glass against his and quickly took a sip of your drink, hoping he couldn't hear the way your heartbeat quickened.

"I'm a bit insulted by your outfit." He said, his tone playful. "I've never considered a vampire so... tasteless."

You nearly choked on your drink, surprised by his bluntness. You couldn't tell if he was serious or not, but the look in his eyes told you he was at least half-teasing.

"Hey, now. I'll have you know, I put a lot of thought into this outfit," you told him, feigning offense, though you couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up.

Elijah smiled, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. "Did you put glitter on your face? You're sparkling."

"Isn't that what vampires do?" You flashed a coy grin. "Sparkle in the sun?"

Elijah shook his head, his fingers trailing over your jaw. "If we did, we wouldn't do it nearly as beautifully as you."

You felt your cheeks flush at his compliment, and you looked away, taking another sip of your drink. You weren't sure what to say, he was so damn smooth with his words.

"Thank you," you finally murmured, meeting his gaze again. "For rescuing me in there."

He chuckled, taking a sip of his own drink. "My pleasure. Though, I'd say the rescue was a bit mutual."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you've rescued me as well, darling. From a very dull night."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Dull? Hardly. It's a Mikaelson Halloween party, there's nothing dull about it."

He shrugged, his gaze traveling over you again. "Perhaps. But a night spent in your company is much more exciting."

You blushed, looking down. You could feel his eyes on you, and the tension between you was nearly palpable. You had always had a crush on him, and it was surreal to be standing here, with him looking at you like that.

"Dance with me," he said, pulling you closer.

You nodded, letting him lead you onto the dance floor. The music was slow and sensual, and you could feel the beat pulsing through your body, making your heart race.

Elijah's hand settled on your waist, his other gently grasping your own as he drew you in close. You rested your free hand on his shoulder, looking up at him through your lashes. Out of all Rebekah's brothers, he was the hardest to read, and sometimes the most intimidating.

But there was no denying the heat in his gaze as he looked down at you, or the way his fingers tightened on your waist. You bit your lip, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

"Tell me, sweetheart," he said, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Did you pick your costume specifically to try and get attention?"

You blinked, caught off-guard by the question. "I, um..." You weren't sure how to answer. The truth was, yes, you had picked the outfit hoping to attract their attention, but you hadn't thought anyone would call you out on it.

"I'm not judging," he assured you, his hand sliding down your waist, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. "I'm merely curious."

"Maybe," you admitted, a flush rising in your cheeks. "What do you think?"

"I think," he murmured, his fingers dancing along the hem of your dress, his touch sending sparks of desire through you, "that you don't have to try so hard," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear.

You let out a soft gasp and your hand curled into the collar of his suit jacket. You knew it was a reckless idea, that getting tangled up with a Mikaelson was bound to end badly, but right now, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

"You're dangerous, you know that?" you whispered, looking up at him.

"So are you," he replied, his eyes darkening.

You could see the hunger in his gaze, dark veins rippling under his eyes ever so slightly. You knew that he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

"How much did this little outfit cost?” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

You snorted, rolling your eyes. "What does that matter?"

"Because I want to know how much money I'm going to spend replacing it."

You blinked, your cheeks growing warm. "Elijah," you whispered, a thrill rushing through you.

He smiled, a wide toothy grin, and then spun you around, dipping you back. The move was fluid and graceful, and you clung to him, laughing breathlessly. The alcohol was making your head spin, and the heat between the two of you was intoxicating.

"I must confess I'm a bit jealous," he murmured, bringing you back up. His hand rested on the small of your back, keeping you close as the two of you moved together.

"Of who?"

"Niklaus has made it clear he's interested in pursuing you. I'm afraid that if I let you out of my sight, he'll steal you away." He chuckled, and the sound vibrated through you.

"And what do you intend to do about it?" you asked, a challenge in your voice.

He smirked, his eyes darkening. "Why, I intend to keep you right here, where I can enjoy you for myself."

"You can't keep me, I'm not an object," you teased, even as you felt your pulse quicken.

Elijah smiled, amused, his gaze moving to someone standing behind you. "Perhaps not. But Niklaus certainly thinks so."

You glanced over your shoulder and saw Klaus leaning against a nearby pillar, a drink in his hand and a smirk on his face. He gave you a wink and lifted his glass, silently toasting you.

Your cheeks flushed, and you turned back to Elijah, biting your lip. You were torn between being flattered by their attention and feeling embarrassed by it. You were just a human, after all, and they were two powerful vampires, kings among their own kind.

You felt another pair of hands sliding along your hips, and Klaus' familiar scent filled your nostrils. He nuzzled against the crook of your neck, pressing a soft kiss against your skin.

"Can I have that dance, love?" He murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

Your breath hitched, the proximity of both of them sending your pulse racing. The fantasy that you had built up in your head suddenly seemed very possible and it overwhelmed you. The heat of them, the way they touched you, the way their bodies moved against yours as they danced. You felt like a piece of prey caught between a wolf and a panther, and they were circling, waiting for the right moment to strike.

You saw Marcel watching you, an amused grin on his face. He had seen everything and was clearly entertained by the whole situation. You felt a sudden wave of embarrassment wash over you, and you stepped away, clearing your throat.

"I, uh, I should probably go find Rebekah," you said, avoiding their gazes. "I'll.. see you guys later."

Klaus' brows furrowed, and he reached for you, his fingers brushing against yours. "Love, wait—"

You pulled away from them, mumbling an excuse, and hurried off, disappearing into the crowd. Your cheeks were burning, and you could feel their eyes on you, but you didn't dare look back.

You made your way through the party, keeping your head down and avoiding eye contact with everyone. Searching for Rebekah, you found her in a far corner, chatting with Cami.

Rebekah smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Have you received the attention you were hoping for tonight?"

"Uh, yeah," you muttered, shaking your head. "Perhaps a little too much."

Cami snorted, hiding her grin behind her hand.

"You don't say," Rebekah chuckled, giving you a knowing look.

"I'm not sure what I was thinking, wearing this." You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you, and you looked down at the ground, your cheeks heating.

"Nonsense," Rebekah said, linking her arm with yours. "It's not the outfit, but the girl wearing it. And besides, those idiots have been pining after you for ages, this is hardly news."

Cami nodded in agreement. "They're smitten, and everyone can see it."

You rolled your eyes, not quite believing them. "I guess…”

"Did they bother you?" Rebekah asked, a hint of protectiveness in her tone.

"No," you replied, quickly shaking your head. "I mean, not really. They were just a little... overwhelming. I'm not used to having two guys chasing after me."

Cami nodded, giving you a reassuring smile. "If anything, I think it's a good thing. Gives you the chance to decide which one you're more into."

Rebekah let out a laugh, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Please, if she knew who she was more into, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

You glared at her, trying not to blush. She had a point, but that didn't mean you wanted her bringing it up in front of Cami.

"I don't know," Cami said, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You seem pretty torn. Maybe you should just try them both out, see which one fits better."

You blinked, surprised by the suggestion. But before you could respond, Cami held up a hand, stopping you.

"No, listen, I'm serious. There's nothing wrong with trying to figure out who you're more attracted to. It's healthy."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Are you saying I should sleep with both of them?"

"If that's what it takes," Cami replied, shrugging. "You deserve to know what you want, and I don't think you'll find the answer until you give it a try."

Rebekah pretended not to hear, sipping her drink, but the corners of her mouth twitched, as if she were trying not to smile.

You stared at her for a moment, speechless. You hadn't expected such a suggestion, but at the same time, part of you wondered if Cami was right. You did want them both, and they were clearly interested in you. But there was no way in hell you could choose between them. Maybe sleeping with both of them was the only way to make things clear.

"Here," Rebekah said, interrupting your thoughts. She handed you your fake fangs, smiling mischievously. "Go put these back on, and then find my brothers. I'm sure they'd be happy to continue the party in private."

You gave her a look, but she only laughed, patting your arm.

"Just trust me," she said, winking. "I've seen you with them, you are not acting like yourself, all shy and sweet. That's not you. Go be reckless, have fun, and maybe get laid. You need it."

You felt your cheeks grow hot, and she pushed you gently back towards the dance floor. Cami joined her, both of them laughing and pushing you playfully.

"Hey, are you blushing?" Rebekah called after you, giggling.

You waved her off, rolling your eyes. But there was no denying the heat rising in your cheeks, and the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You made your way through the crowd, looking for them. But they were nowhere to be found on the first floor so you headed upstairs.

You found them sitting on the lounge on an ornate looking sofa, discussing something in hushed voices. It seemed heated, like they were arguing over something… But when they saw you, however, their conversation halted, and they exchanged a glance.

"Back so soon?" Klaus teased, his eyes sweeping over you.

You kept your mouth closed, trying to hide the fangs. You sat down in-between them, letting the silence stretch between the three of you.

Elijah cleared his throat, glancing at Klaus, and then back to you. "Is everything alright, sweetheart?"

You have them a wide grin, the ridiculous plastic fangs finally revealing themselves.

Klaus burst into laughter, throwing his head back, and Elijah's lips twitched.

"That's the ugliest thing I've ever seen," Klaus said, snorting.

"And yet, somehow, it looks quite fetching on you," Elijah remarked, a small smile playing on his lips.

You giggled, feeling a bit foolish, but also emboldened. "Why, thank you gentlemen. Now it's only fair you show me yours," you said, waggling your eyebrows and popping the fangs out of your mouth.

Klaus chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “If that's what you wish."

You watched as the veins under his eyes appeared and his fangs lengthened. It looked extra frightening, paired with his phantom costume, and you couldn't help but reach out, touching one of his fangs.

He grinned, and his eyes flashed gold, a sign of his werewolf side, too. "Does this frighten you?" he murmured, leaning closer.

"Not at all," you told him, biting your lip.

He smirked, his gaze flickering to your mouth. "Good."

You turned to Elijah, and found him watching the two of you intently, his dark eyes glittering.

"Well, don't I get to see yours, too?" you asked, batting your eyelashes.

Elijah hesitated for a moment, and then his own fangs descended, his eyes flashing black.

You let out a soft gasp, reaching out and touching his cheek. His skin was warm, the dark veins under his eyes were dancing, and you could feel the power radiating off him.

"Beautiful," you whispered, awed by their supernatural sides.

Klaus chuckled, watching the two of you with amusement. "Our little human has quite the appetite," he murmured, his eyes gleaming.

"Indeed," Elijah replied, a smirk tugging at his lips.

They exchanged a look, and then turned back to you, their gazes heated. You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling a bit nervous.

"Elijah and I have a bit of a wager going," Klaus said, leaning closer.

"Niklau-" Elijah started to speak, but Klaus cut him off.

"No, no, no, Elijah. We should get to the bottom of this, once and for all," Klaus said, a mischievous look on his face.

"What are you talking about?" You asked, confused.

"Well, my dear brother is under the impression that he is the one you have feelings for," Klaus explained, his tone playful.

"Niklaus, I swear to-"

Klaus held up a hand, stopping Elijah. "However, I believe it's me you're attracted to."

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. You had a feeling they had been bickering over this since the moment you left them downstairs.

"What if I can't choose?" You asked, meeting their gaze.

"Then you'll just have to spend the night with both of us," Klaus replied, a wicked grin on his face.

"Niklaus. That's enough," Elijah said, his tone sharp. You could tell he was irritated by the way Klaus was behaving. But you didn't mind the teasing, and you knew just how to shut them up.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your courage, and then you grabbed Elijah's tie and pulled him toward you, kissing him.

Elijah let out a surprised grunt, but quickly recovered, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer. His lips were soft and warm, and you could feel his fangs scraping against your mouth.

The kiss was intense, and you were breathless when he finally pulled away. He smiled, his eyes dark with desire, then he looked over your shoulder at Klaus, a smug expression on his face.

"Well, there's your answer," he said, sounding a bit pleased with himself.

You glanced behind you and saw that Klaus was glaring at Elijah, his jaw clenched tight. You giggled and turned to him, pulling him in for a kiss.

He growled, his hands sliding over your body as he kissed you, hard and demanding. You could feel the anger rolling off him, and you had to admit, it was kind of thrilling.

"See, she likes me more," Klaus said, a smug grin on his face.

"Incorrigible child," Elijah scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Both of you shut up," you told them, feeling impatient. "You're ruining the mood."

Klaus smirked, his eyes flashing. "As you wish, love."

They both leaned in, pressing soft kisses to either side of your neck simultaneously. You closed your eyes, sighing, your fingers curling into the fabric of their shirts. Their lips trailed over your skin, their fangs gently scraping against you.

"We should go somewhere more private," Elijah murmured, his hand sliding up your thigh.

Klaus nodded, nipping at your earlobe. "My room, perhaps? I'd very much like to have you alone."

"Oh, no. My room," Elijah countered, his voice low and husky.

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up in your throat, and you opened your eyes, looking at both of them.

"How about the guest room I'm staying in? Feels like neutral territory," you offered, smirking.

"Agreed," Elijah said, pulling you closer and nuzzling your neck.

Suddenly he scooped you up into his arms and you yelped in surprise. He smirked, and you watched Klaus grab multiple bottles of champagne. He popped one open and began to chug it.

You giggled, holding onto Elijah's neck as he carried you to the bedroom. He placed you on the bed, and you watched as they stripped their clothes off, tossing them carelessly to the floor.

"Why Phantom of the Opera?" you teased Klaus, admiring their toned bodies.

"Because I look dashing, of course," Klaus replied, grinning. "I miss the fashion of that era,"

"And you?" You looked at Elijah, "did you just find an old outfit in your closet?"

Elijah chuckled, shrugging. "More or less. Though, I did take some liberties with the suit."

You rolled your eyes, amused. They were such divas, always wanting to look their best. But you weren't complaining, they were incredibly sexy.

Elijah was the first to move, crawling onto the bed and hovering over you. He captured your mouth in a passionate kiss, his tongue sliding against yours. His hands moved over your body, gently squeezing your breasts before ripping your costume open. You gasped, and then moaned as his mouth moved down, trailing kisses along your exposed chest.

"Cheap satin, mass produced garbage," he muttered, tossing the shredded fabric to the side.

You laughed, but your laugh turned into a moan as his lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking gently. His hands slid over your hips, squeezing possessively.

You arched into him, your fingers tangling in his hair. He was rough, but not too rough, and you could feel the heat building between your legs.

You felt the bed dip, and then Klaus was kneeling next to you, his cock already hard and throbbing. You reached out, wrapping your hand around his length and giving him a slow, firm stroke.

"That's it, love," he groaned, his hips jerking forward.

Elijah chuckled, nipping at your neck. "Impatient as ever, Niklaus."

Klaus glared at him, his eyes flashing gold. "And you're not, Elijah? Look at you, rutting against her like a bloody animal."

Elijah pulled back, a smirk on his face. "Touché."

You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head. The tension between the two of them was palpable, but you couldn't bring yourself to mind. It was thrilling, being the focus of their attention.

You quickly shut Klaus up by leaning forward and taking him into your mouth.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hand tangling in your hair.

You swirled your tongue around the head, and then bobbed down his shaft, taking him in as deep as you could. Enjoying the low moans you pulled from him.

Elijah kissed and nipped his way down your body, settling between your legs. He spread your thighs, and you whimpered as he ran his tongue along your slit, the sensation making your toes curl.

You knew they would be good in bed, but this was... beyond your wildest imagination. The way they worked in sync, almost competing for your attention, left you breathless. It was exhilarating, and you couldn’t help but revel in the pleasure they both brought you.

Elijah's tongue danced over your clit, his skillful movements driving you wild as he circled and dipped inside you. You moaned around Klaus's cock, the vibrations intensifying the pleasure building within you.

“Fuck, love. Your mouth feels incredible,” Klaus groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair as he thrust forward. 

You tightened your lips around him, feeling the heat radiating from both men. Elijah’s grip on your hips was firm, holding you still as he devoured you. The pressure inside you mounted, a delicious tension just out of reach. Your thighs squeezed his head, and you caught a glimpse of his smirk through the haze of pleasure.

Klaus was groaning and cursing, his thrusts becoming erratic. You knew he was close, and the thought made your core ache. With a final, fervent moan around Klaus's length, he spilled himself down your throat, a deep growl escaping his lips. You relished the taste, the raw connection of it all.

Elijah pulled away, and you whined at the sudden emptiness, your body craving more of his touch. He grinned, fangs descending, and pressed his lips to the delicate skin of your inner thigh. His bite pierced your skin, and the pain quickly transformed into a rush of pleasure. You could feel him drinking from you, pulling your essence into him, intensifying your arousal.

Your breath caught as you felt yourself tipping over the edge. Climax ripped through you, leaving you trembling and gasping. Elijah pulled away, licking the wound on your thigh clean, then pressed a soft kiss to your skin, his eyes dark with desire. 

“So sweet,” he murmured, his voice husky. “I could drink from you all night.”

Klaus chuckled, tracing a finger along the bite mark. “Now, now, brother. Let’s not be greedy.”

Elijah’s mouth moved higher, trailing kisses along your hip bones and stomach. You could see the dark veins under his eyes, the whites of his eyes now black. He was equal parts beautiful and deadly. You reached down, tracing the veins under his eyes, captivated by the sight.

Klaus smirked, watching your reaction. “Our little human is quite fascinated by our supernatural side.”

“Indeed,” Elijah murmured, his mouth hovering over the curve of your breast. 

“It’s kind of hot,” you said, breathless with a smile.

Elijah grinned, then latched onto one of your nipples, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak. You moaned, arching into him, feeling the tension building again.

Klaus chuckled. “Elijah, I do believe it’s my turn.”

Elijah paused, glancing at him. “Of course.” he muttered, reluctantly pulling away.

Klaus shifted behind you, pulling you into his lap, your back pressed against his chest. “Now, when it comes to you making a decision, it’s all about who’s best, isn’t it?” he whispered in your ear.

You swallowed, eyes fluttering closed as his hand slipped between your thighs, pressing two fingers inside you. “I-I guess,” you stuttered, struggling to focus on his words.

“I’m going to show you why it should be me,” Klaus said, his voice low and husky.

Elijah’s eyes narrowed, jaw clenched. He didn’t like being upstaged, but you couldn’t help but feel amused. They were both so competitive, always trying to prove themselves better than the other.

“Come now, brother. No need to be jealous,” Klaus said, smirking.

Elijah’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m certain I’ll win her favor.”

You giggled, the sound turning into a moan as Klaus curled his fingers, rubbing against your sensitive spot. He pressed a kiss to your neck, nipping at your skin, and you could feel his fangs scraping against you.

Your hands gripped his thighs, nails digging into his skin. He groaned, fingers pumping in and out of you, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Elijah watched, gaze intense. You could see the jealousy in his eyes, but there was desire there too. And it turned you on even more.

“Don’t hold back, love,” Klaus murmured, his voice seductive. “Let me hear those sweet sounds.”

Your lips parted, and you couldn’t stop the moans spilling from your mouth. It was overwhelming—the way Klaus touched you, the way Elijah watched. The tension inside you was building, and you knew you were close.

Klaus sank his fangs into your neck, and you cried out, the sensation pushing you over the edge. Your body trembled, waves of pleasure crashing through you. 

Klaus growled, teeth digging deeper, and you could feel him drinking from you. The combination of pleasure and pain was intoxicating, and you found yourself wishing he would never stop.

But eventually, he pulled away, lapping at the bite marks on your neck. You felt lightheaded, a pleasant buzz flowing through your veins.

“Delicious,” he whispered, his voice rough.

Elijah leaned forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. He tasted like blood, and you could feel the desperation in his touch.

“Now, now, brother,” Klaus said, amusement lacing his tone. “I didn’t say you could have a turn.”

“Oh, stop,” you chuckled, pushing on Elijah’s chest and turning to face Klaus. Straddling him, you kissed him passionately, then slowly lowered yourself onto his length.

“Bloody hell,” Klaus groaned, his hands gripping your hips.

“You feel so good,” you whispered, biting his lip.

He smirked, thrusting into you. You moaned, throwing your head back, and began to ride him. His fingers dug into your skin, and you knew you’d have bruises later, but you didn’t care.

Elijah pressed himself into your back, licking the bite mark on your neck, sucking more blood from it. You shuddered; the feeling of him behind you combined with Klaus thrusting into you was almost too much.

Klaus’s eyes flashed gold, veins dancing beneath his skin. You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his and locking your gaze with his. He looked so damn beautiful, eyes dark with lust, skin flushed.

“Cum for us, sweetheart,” Elijah whispered, breath hot against your ear.

You couldn’t hold back any longer. You cried out, your climax crashing through you as they both watched with rapt attention, intensifying the pleasure.

Your vision blurred, and you felt dizzy. You had no idea how much blood they had taken from you, but it must have been a lot.

“Niklaus,” Elijah warned, voice strained.

“Yes, yes, I know,” Klaus muttered, letting you fall back into Elijah’s arms.

“I’m fine,” you said, breathless. “Just a little dizzy.”

Elijah scooped you up and laid you down, his lips finding yours. “I’m afraid we got a bit carried away,” he said, his expression regretful.

“I’m not complaining,” you replied, giving him a weak smile.

“Here,” he said softly, biting down on his wrist and holding it to your mouth.

You nodded, taking his blood. It was surprisingly sweet, reviving you, clearing the fog from your mind.

“That’s cheating,” Klaus grumbled, pouting.

“We need her in top form for the rest of the night,” Elijah replied, lips twitching with a smile.

You ran your fingers through Elijah’s hair, pulling him in for a kiss as you parted your legs. He smiled, positioning himself between your thighs.

You moaned as he eased into you, filling you completely. His movements were slow and deliberate, and it felt so damn good. You could almost feel the way his blood flowed through you, rejuvenating you.

Elijah’s rhythm was steady, thrusts deep and sure, kissing and nipping at your neck and jaw. You were lost in pleasure, fingers digging into his back.

It didn’t take long for your release to build again, your whole body trembling. Elijah groaned, pace quickening. You felt his body tense, control slipping, and he finally spilled himself inside you.

He kissed you, eyes dark with desire, then pulled out, breathing ragged.

Klaus began to slow clap, a smirk on his face. "Well done, brother."

You couldn't help but laugh, even though you were utterly exhausted. "I guess we're all winners tonight," you said, a sleepy smile on your face.

Elijah chuckled, rolling onto his back and pulling you into his arms. You snuggled against him, feeling safe and warm.

Klaus shifted on the bed, lying beside you and pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. "So... who do you choose?"

"Both," you replied, not even having to think about it.

"Afraid that's not an option," Elijah murmured, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your arm.

"And why not?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Because," Klaus said, his hand sliding over your hip, "we need to know who the victor is."

You rolled your eyes, knowing this was just another game to them. "Fine. Elijah, then."

"Ha!" Elijah exclaimed, looking smug.

"Actually... No. Klaus," you said, turning your head and smirking at him.

"Don't lie to make him feel better," Elijah said, a teasing tone to his voice.

You giggled, unable to keep a straight face.

"You're not going to make a choice, are you?" Klaus asked, his tone amused.

"Nope," you replied, grinning. "Also, you both owe me a costume,"

They exchanged a look, and then turned back to you, their eyes glinting with mischief.

"We can arrange that," Klaus said, his lips curving into a wicked grin.

"And perhaps," Elijah added, his tone suggestive, "you could wear it for us."

You smirked, your pulse racing at the thought. "Oh yeah? What would you have me dress up as?"

"Hmm," Klaus murmured, his hand trailing over your hip. "How about a naughty nurse?"

Elijah raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Or a sexy librarian?"

You giggled, enjoying their suggestions. "Perhaps a French maid," you said, giving them a flirty smile.

"I think we could work with that," Klaus said, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Agreed," Elijah replied, his expression mirroring his brother's.

You sighed, smiling contentedly. "I love Halloween,"

Below, the sounds of the party continued, music and laughter drifting up to you. But the three of you remained locked away in your own private world, enjoying each other's company, and the promise of what was to come.

{<- kinktober masterlist}

[nohva]

Zoro drunkenly (or while tipsy) confesses his love to Sanji one night but, in the same breath, tells him it’s okay—he knows Sanji is straight and is fine with them remaining "only" crewmates, he just had to get these feelings out of his system. And Sanji is overwhelmed because ???? Where is this even coming from? Why is the mosshead suddenly saying these things? This isn’t how their relationship is supposed to work. They don’t do the whole talking thing, especially not about serious topics?? When they have emotions to work through they fight each other, maybe throw in an insult or two. But this? This is unfamiliar territory for Sanji, so he’s really not sure how to react, much less respond.

So he doesn’t; he just stares at Zoro, his mouth opening and closing. Zoro takes that as his sign, gets up from the stairs he’d been sitting on, and leaves for the sleeping quarters. It is quite late, after all.

The next morning while preparing breakfast Sanji is oh so tense. He’s still mostly confused because there’s just no way the green-haired brute could harbor any such feelings toward another human being—least of all him—could he? And what if this does change things? Zoro said it wouldn’t, but who's to say?

And Zoro acts like nothing ever happened, he's just the same old moss ball that drinks too much Sake and takes way too many naps during the day and Sanji is so confused and he's getting angry now, because how can he act so nonchalant while the cook is over here losing his god damn mind over this? Does Zoro maybe not remember confessing? Had he been that drunk?

And obviously Zoro DOES remember, and he's NOT calm at all. He's freaking out internally every time he and Sanji are in the same room, but he'd rather lose his remaining eye than have anyone notice. So he does his best to play it cool. And yeah, maybe he takes a nap or two more than usual, and maybe he spends even more time working out in the crow's nest than is strictly necessary, but that is nobody’s business but his own, isn’t it?

Bla bla bla cue Sanji questioning the universe and his existence, freaking out over his sexuality, sloooowly coming to terms with it and then freaking out again about telling Zoro and what it means for the crew dynamic etc etc.

Also Robin being somewhere in the background of the story, smiling to herself, sipping on her tea, because of course she knows something is up, and she has a pretty good idea of what it is about, even if she doesn’t know the whole story, because she knows pretty much everything that’s going on on the sunny, cause she’s the responsible older sister™️.

————————————————————-

I have never attempted to write anything before, not even a rough draft like this, but Zosan has been living in my head rent free for the past few months now, and once the idea for a possible plot popped up in my mind I absolutely needed to note it down. Oh well, I hope I am not embarrassing myself too much by posting this.

Anyways, this is the most I can offer due to a lack of actual literary skills, but I still hope you enjoyed!

The obligatory English isn’t my first language speech: please excuse any spelling and grammar mistakes, I tried my best, I swear!

[sgiandubh]

A bit too far for my taste

With the recipient's agreement, I am posting this Anon a friend just received. It has been sent with the clear intention to be shared with the two people in this fandom that really (and I mean REALLY) bother her.

'It would seem ignorance is a blessing to you, carry on kissing your friends' Bat and Sgian's asses.

Show us to whom you belong.

Bitches, stupid whores who think they know it all.'

Here you have my answer in my own words, both audio and written:

Hello, Moo. This time, you are pushing buttons a bit far, here, don't you think?

You and/or (it depends on the day, she has better grammar and spelling than you) your comadre @loveisloveislove76 have been consistent into bashing around this fandom for ages, now. The fact that I doxed myself before you did (and you do not want to know the real-life implications of this, you really don't want to go there, I promise you) probably sent you into a cyclical, manic frenzy that is now again on the rise. If we are so wrong, darling, why even bother?

If you have something against me, personally, fucking come and say it publicly on your page, owning your actions and your words. This is what I always did and this is what I always do: I do not need Anons to tell it like I think it is and I never sent any to anyone in this fandom since I entered it and opened my blog.

You know that very well. And that goes for all of you, people across the street.

You, Mrs. Moo, send me Anons all the time, you transparently bash me on your page and yet, you are consistently ignored. Stop being the sorry, sorry coward you have probably always been, grow a spine and a brain, too. The person you basically defined as a slave to 'two bitches and stupid whores' (who salute you, darling) has done nothing wrong to you and does not deserve this vulgar brutality. She hasn't even mentioned you, she never attacked anyone. She is guilty of having a different point of view, that is all.

I doubt you will ever realize how ridiculous and idiotic your behavior is. However, I will remind you something, Moo: it is not because this is a digital environment that you can safely assume you know exactly who you are legally offending, here. Nor that you are allowed to forever get away with it. Fuck around and find out, I suppose?

To my friend who received it: you did nothing wrong, you just expressed yourself in a very civilized way. There is a thin, red line between irony and libel, many people in here seem to willfully ignore. You also took the best possible steps to address it. We love you and we care for you and we will always have your back, in here. Thank you for sharing it with me: these people needed some really hard talking, as they regularly seem to. I will never allow anyone to take the brunt for anything I have written myself.

[canine-economy]

On Swansea’s (often understated) role in Mouthwashing

I say this as a big swansea fan but I don’t rlly understand why ppl are acting like he’s not also complicit in what happened to Anya? AUs where “Anya tells Swansea” and he jumps to violently defend her don’t make sense to me because canonically she does tell him, as he admits to Jimmy. But swansea represents another way of interacting with the capitalist heteropatriarchy that ALSO harms victims: holistic jadedness and resignation.

Swansea is across the board unkind to the Tulpar crew. We can’t forget that he calls anya a “so-called nurse”

and says this to Jimmy, which (if unintentionally) reiterates Jimmy’s own warped perception of Anya’s usefulness and competence. This allows Jimmy to feel justified in his imagination of the nurse’s inferiority. Swansea’s clear lack of respect for Jimmy does less to hurt Jimmy than his lack of respect for Anya harms Anya, because at the end of the day, Swansea’s attitude is contextualized by the violent culture it exists in and he does nothing to reconcile with that when Jimmy becomes the captain. His resignation can thus be weaponized even by Jimmy, a man who Swansea disrespects but whose power he doesn’t try to meaningfully jeopardize, because his across-the-board disdain punches people already marginalized by the environment twice as hard as it does those with power.

Swansea doesn’t position himself as an ally, he positions himself as willfully uninvolved in everything, an observer to the shitshow ride to hell. Just because he dislikes Jimmy doesn’t mean he aligns with Anya. He makes it clear that he’s not on her side, either. After a life of doing what he felt was expected of him, Swansea on the Tulpar looks out for Swansea and Swansea’s comfort. In trying to situate himself outside of the politics of it all as an older white man, he simply allows them to play out. The toxic culture keeps existing, playing out in the microcosm that is this freighter, and Swansea in all his experience recognizes that shit has hit the fan and elects to coast through it, even explicitly numbing himself to it by breaking his sobriety. It is, of course, hard to force yourself to be sober—to see clearly. But had Swansea forced himself to get involved sooner, he might have set a precedent for Daisuke to recognize Jimmy’s abuse, which could have saved Daisuke’s life as well as created a safe space for Anya. But Swansea’s inaction forces both victims to confront an abuser on their own, unable to reap benefits from his privilege and experience.

Jimmy is clearly intimidated by swansea in a way he is not by Anya, Daisuke, or a post-crash Curly (Swansea, for example, physically manifests as an aggressor in Jimmy’s “responsibility sequences”, and Jimmy ties Swansea up to avoid what he sees as the real possibility of pushback that he doesn’t conceive of Anya being able to do). Swansea has a power he does not act on or with until it is far, far too late. In fact, he acknowledges in his final monologue that he was dissatisfied with the discomfort with opening his eyes and living an exemplary “good man”s life. The best days of his life are ones in which he’s belligerently drunk—days in which he didn’t have to hold himself accountable. He regrets the life he spent performing for higher-ups and we watch him reject it by scorning Captain Jimmy, but he also doesn’t want to be held responsible for helping other people when it’s their turn to endure the expectations and violence from similar (if not the same) higher powers. Tragically, he possesses the hindsight to recognize that how he acted on the Tulpar consequently wasn’t what Daisuke needed out of a role model, leading to Daisuke becoming a victim. His hands-off approach to emotional engagement with his young male intern (another symptom of patriarchal gender norms) may have been to avoid Daisuke turning out miserable and jaded like himself, but it doesn’t actually indicate to an already-confused Daisuke what the dangers of that attitude are. Swansea never admits his own shortcomings in a tangible way which, had they come from a man with experience and prestige like himself, may have shifted that culture that failed Anya. She comes to him with the story not because he has situated himself as any earnest friend, but likely out of desperation on a ship Jimmy now controls.

When we allow “the machine” (Swansea’s own words) to beat us down to the point that we don’t find it productive to challenge unjust power dynamics, we become complicit. I think too many people get hung up on his disdain for Jimmy and Jimmy’s fear of Swansea as a marker of allyship with Anya, but the truth is that Swansea. Is a bad ally. He’s hardly one at all. His long stint in the demanding capitalist environment molded a perfectly complicit result out of him, as it aspires to do, even if Swansea bitterly recognizes that. Jimmy’s overt violence from a position of power is a different and much more brutal approach to abuse enabled by people who have been left too tired and bitter to care that he does it. A man who could’ve intimidated and even threatened Jimmy is too resigned to try until there is literally nobody but himself left to fight for, which is an attitude carefully cultivated among the lower rungs of hierarchies to keep the top safe. Swansea in particular seems very unhappy with the capitalistic, patriarchal expectations laid out for him as a father, husband, and laborer. His decision to just stop trying and spare himself the grief instead of questioning why those expectations exist and how they would hurt the others onboard only delays him being directly targeted by Jimmy and doesn’t interrupt the latter’s violence.

Not a single man in mouthwashing is innocent in Anya’s victimhood. This is a statement tentatively uninclusive of Daisuke, because I think the game very deliberately positions him outside of manhood through his youth and thus struggling with the concept of “fitting in” to the patriarchy. Curly, Jimmy, and Swansea all represent different failures that ultimately perpetuate Anya’s suffering and force her to defend herself and finally take her life into her own hands. A holistic analysis of rape culture in MW necessarily engages with all three of them. Only not being a friend and ally to rapists and other male abusers isn’t enough, and Swansea proves it.

[skyenish]

Have you played Jamils ceremonial robes vignette? What did you think about him getting seemingly flustered/shy when Kalim praised him?

I think it’s cute! I always love it when Jamil acts all embarrassed. If you want to know my thoughts on a deeper level, I think that it says a lot about Jamil. Obviously we can see that even though he’s desperate for praise, he still gets flustered when he gets it and tends to shy away from attention. This could be a deeply ingrained habit he has from always having to redirect any attention and praise towards Kalim, or it could be a sign that he doesn’t truly want praise and attention as much as we think.

Now, I believe it’s a mix of both. Most of us already understand why this would be an ingrained habit, so I want to instead explore the other possibility now!

Jamil doesn’t really want to be the best or be worshipped, we know that what he truly wants is to be free, to travel the world. What makes Jamil truly happy, what he truly wants, is that, traveling the world and being free. What he thinks he wants is attention and praise and recognition, because that’s what’s always been taken from him.

We know Jamil is very aware of how he’s perceived, and I’m sure he doesn’t like being perceived as weak or dumb or incapable, so letting Kalim always be better at him stings. But Jamil, who is only 17 and increasingly emotionally constipated (like half the twst characters), immediately swung the other way, overcorrecting. I think Jamil in some cases tends to see really black and white, and since he doesn’t like dumbing himself down for Kalim and Kalim getting all the praise that he doesn’t deserve, that must surely mean that what he wants is that exact praise, right?

I’m not saying he doesn’t want praise, we’ve seen how he shines in the VDC and how he loves being appreciated, but my theory is that he doesn’t want it as much as we’re lead to believe due to his overblot acting the way it did. Being praised like that brings attention to yourself, it puts the spotlights on you, and Jamil doesn’t like being out on the spot (he’s more of a planning ahead guy). I think when his overblot demanded praise and worship, it was more for the powertrip and not as much just for the praise, if you get what I mean? Jamil loves controlling things and being in control and tends to be pretty paranoid when he isn’t in control, and having his hypnotized servants praise him and worship him must feel like the ultimate sign of control. Plus, them saying all these nice things is a fun little ego boost I’d imagine.

Also add in the fact that Jamil himself tends to use flattery and stuff quite often when he wants something from other characters (he’s even been called out on it), so Jamil might sometimes be distrustful when people praise him (projecting much)

I think Jamil doesn’t just want praise for praise’s sake, I think Jamil wants also praise as a way to feel control. This doesn’t mean that he doesn’t want praise for praise’s sake at all of course, he’s still got quite the ego he needs to feed, and he still likes praise and recognition quite a bit I think, just not as much as you’d think at first glance. Im sorry if I’m not explaining it well, but my thoughts are hard to put into words!

——

I’m sorry if this ramble is all over the place, but I love sharing my thoughts on Jamil! Remember, my interpretations are just my interpretations, and it’s just my thoughts! If you disagree with me, that’s completely fine! Thank you for the question anon, and sorry for making the answer so long <3

[theus-what-are-you-doing]

DAY 29: FEAR

So this is my addition to @cinderellaboyincorectquotes Last week of October Challenge and their anonymous submitter. I thank you both for the prompts!

Unfortunately, I wasn't aware of it until now, so I'm just doing the latter days before Halloween while I can. This entry comes with an angsty short story too, the first fic I've actually written for Cinderella Boy, so I hope you all enjoy~

=================================

FOUND THE BOY

Cinderella Boy OneShot || 850 Words

It was just one of those nights... another book closed, another day wasted, spent chasing after two boys as they tried to awkwardly stumble their way through a narrative that should have been simple to follow. Yet…

It went as well as it usually did, chaos with a twinkle of misbehaving antics and comedics. Not that Buddy minded all of these changes, mind you. It was getting him out of the shackles back in his cell after all, and he even found each experience to become a little more enjoyable than the last. But as the two left the book as they always did, Buddy could already feel the weight of the harsh metal pressing down on his wrists and neck once again, his key starting to glow, signifying it was also his time to go. He heard the faintest voice upon his ears, telling him that they shouldn't go back, almost begging, and yet he knew they had no choice, they never did. Buddy tried his best to comfort both the voice and himself as he breathed out shakily, bringing a purple key from around his neck, the one once hidden under his flamboyant costume, and held it close in the palms of his hands. A vibrant violet hue lit his eyes up from the glowing gem in the centre, soon snuffed out as he muttered those important words

“Send me back, please, Violet...”

With that, he was thrown backwards, even with Violet’s gentle attempts to not be so harsh when pushing him from the book, a flash of white and then a sinking heaviness soon following. The book dropped down before him just as someone’s hands clamped around his sore wrists and pulled him from the table, being quick to snatch the key hanging from around his neck and keeping it from him. A shadowy figure, all too familiar, stood before him, cane in one hand as the other lifted Violet to their face, eyes lit up while their face remained in shadow. Their rough voice pierced the panting silence.

“Hmm, that was more than last time… You seem to be rather enjoying yourself, Two.”

Buddy didn’t dare lift his head, rather making a noise akin to an affirmation. It still felt so weird to hear himself being referred to in such a way, growing a little too used to being called “Buddy” by the blonde starlight he had grown so fond of over the past year or so. ‘Two’ just didn't fit him any more, even if it had been all he had ever known

“Ah well, more for me to use when they are rightfully returned to us. Have you got any updates on your search?”

His shaking head was met with a subtle grimace, the other’s nose scrunching momentarily with their eyebrows knitting together, yet it was soon replaced with a snarky smirk, lips pulled up in a way that didn't seem quite humanly possible.

“Nevermind, despite your lack of verbal information, You have still managed to help us.”

That’s when Buddy’s eyes finally flickered up, staring through the parting strands of his dark hair, eyebrows furrowing in a mix of confusion and concern. What did he mean, help them? He didn’t want to help them! His confused look didn't go missed by the looming figure, giving them some sense of satisfaction. So they were right…

“Ah well… Thanks to you, number two…"

An insufferable pause followed, like the figure was dragging the revealing information out in some sadistic game of withholding, clearly taking some sick pleasure from the pained look on their prisoner's face. They finally spoke with a casual tone, almost treating it as if the information was nothing to be regarded, when it was quite the opposite to Buddy.

“We’ve finally found the one boy holding three of our beloved keys.”

Buddy's face fell and his hand reached up to grasp his increasingly beating heart, feeling it slowly race more as he started to comprehend the words. A gentle ‘What..’ almost left his lips as the other approached, reaching out and forcing his head upwards to face them in a snapped motion. He lip quivered with anxious fear as the other continued.

“I must thank you, truly, dear Two… I can not wait to have my precious keys back in my possession… nor to punish the one who has stolen them from me. Perhaps I will even reward you for your efforts.”

A loud and horrid laugh passed their lips, abrupt, as if they couldn't hold it in any longer, an unreadable glint behind their eyes. They dropped Buddy's face in disregard, wiping their hands on their waistcoat with a twinge of disgust lining their features. It wasn't long before they started to walk over to the reinforced door to the furthest side of the room, picking up the book Buddy had previously left as they did. They flicked through the pages idly, shutting the book with a slam once done.

“Perhaps I will let him visit you before he meets his punishment… Wouldn't that be a bittersweet ending to this chapter?”

[your-mums-nuts]

Reasons I think nandermo could possibly make it out alive:

- we’ve seen very little nandor/guillermo scenes from the season 6 trailer. Most are clips from episode 4 and some Nandor clips are from Nandor’s army (I presume, because they have the mannequins) which means they’re intentionally hiding scenes from later episodes

- there’s been a lot more implied romance then we usually get. Like previously, we’d get one ‘Guillermo scene sort of implying he has a crush on Nandor.’ Maybe every three episodes. But the recent episodes are brimming with “my own.. my former” and “maybe that’s what we were. Or weren’t” and “it’s good for our relationship to have boundaries”

- Nandor’s feelings have all been tied to Guillermo. He misses Guillermo so he becomes his landlord. He needs someone to deal with Jerry so he finds Guillermo. He misses Guillermo so he becomes a janitor. He tries his best to blend in for Guillermo. He takes being fired with grace because he doesn’t want to put the burden on Guillermo.

- Boss and underling is a famous gay trope and Guillermo getting a new boss while Nandor watches on with jealousy is very clearly romantic coded.

- the way Guillermo and Nandor’s dynamic has changed takes after that of a romcom or sitcom couple. A loves B. B doesn’t realise. A moves on. B is too late… or is he?

[pix-writes]

outside sex w/ Ford 🫣

Ford & outside sex, tried to make it as gender neutral as possible for this one, hope you enjoy!

(18+ MDNI under cut!) NSFW with lots of fluff on the side 😉

I feel like Ford would actually be really into having sex outside, though I don't think he's the kind of person into voyeurism at all! He wouldn't like to have anyone else looking at you in that way and he certainly wouldn't want to be at high risk of getting caught - it's a turn off!

But he does love nature, he loves being in the woods around the falls and knows lots of beautiful and quiet, largely secluded spots as well as all the magical and dangerous sections of the area to avoid. He would like to take you to such pretty locations as a date activity. He's a romantic deep down 🥰 having a picnic by a smaller lake that was formed off of the bigger lake within gravity falls, not a well known spot, watching as the day grows towards sunset? Hearing people far off on the main lake packing up after a full day of activities, tourism and fishing? Sharing some wine and dessert together should you be so inclined? Wonderful! The perfect place to have both a view and not be interrupted.

It starts off as just cuddling and making out on the grass, as the date progresses, but the intimacy builds to more than that, getting a little heated. Something about it sparks something in Ford, he imagines taking you out to more private places, just you and him alone in tranquil nature, where you won't be seen or have to worry about volume (at least maybe, not as much as when you're in the shack). Maybe you could even go camping.

Ford takes you hiking over the falls and ends up getting himself hot and bothered by the vision of you in front of him 😅 when you're walking in front of him, he gets the best view of your ass 😉

And when you need to break for a few minutes, dewy with sweat and out of breath from exertion, his mind is going to other activities in which he's seen you like that.

When the path becomes steep and treacherous he feels a certain sense of fulfilment/pride (?) that you need his help to traverse it, giving you a hand to pull you up or catch you, that you put your trust in him and his reassurances that you'll be fine and you can cross without falling, is something that helps him to feel useful and more secure. I guess it also feeds a certain masculine role (trope?) in him too (mostly in a pure way rather than a negative/toxic way), in being useful and capable to you in such a physical way. In fact he might even be a bit handsy when he helps you, if he's feeling playful enough or if the trip is tiring you out to try and lift your spirits:

Ford places a hand over your ass as you stumble when he helps you up a high step, drawing you into pressing up against him. "Careful, my dear." 😏

"Stanford Pines, you are a tease!" 😑

"I don't know what you're talking about." 🫠

There's a limit to Ford's patience and you can figure it out, most likely, in this scenario! If he can get you somewhere he considers safe and far away enough from any others who could possibly stumble across you, he'll take you as soon as possible.

Or, I kind of imagine a scenario where you're in the woods adventuring, helping Ford with his research of the anomalies, when things inevitably go wrong and you end up in some moderate dangers in fighting and escaping the latest monster of the week, when you end up coming to a stop to catch your breath, the danger now behind you - the tension is palpable!

Both of your heightened states of emotion mean that one of you runs hands over the other looking to see if they're hurt, almost getting into an argument over the details of how things went wrong or how you managed to come so close to getting hurt, maybe Ford ends up frustrated at you not listening to his instruction and taking a risk, either way that underlying tension snaps. There's tears in his eyes -

"You're so stubborn! How could you put yourself in that position?!"

"I saved you from being hurt! I thought I could've lost you back there!"

You end up being pressed up against a tree as Ford roughly kisses you, feeling under your clothes, squeezing and pinching at your sensitive areas as you moan into his mouth. You know what both of your actions are saying; you care about each other, you felt like you might not have gotten out of this alive, but here you both are.

You don't mind being rough in fact, you want it, you want to feel each other, you want to feel alive. You don't care if you get scratched up by the uncomfortable surfaces, and you are almost certainly going to be scratched up.

No matter who is the instigator here, Ford ends up the one to flip you around and push you up against the tree so he can take you from behind. Neither of you even bothered to undress, clothes pushed up or aside or pulled down just enough to access what you wanted.

And god forbid any forest gnome stumbles across you now, as Ford would probably turn them into ashes if they interrupted you! 🤭😳

Don't worry though, more TLC is applied after, once you manage to get back home, Ford being more gentle and tending to any cuts and bruises.

[httpsryu]

b.f.s (best friend's sister) pt. 2

pairing: mo jihye x fem!reader

summary: it was always a thing, noticing your best friend's older sister. ever since you were a young girl.

category: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers au

genre: fluff, slight angst (?)

warnings: JEALOUSY, y/n is very much head over heels for jihye

a/n: thanks for the love on part 1 <3

clearing your throat and simultaneously tapping your feet, you dart your eyes between your best friend and her sister. both girls look down at their feet, avoiding your gazes at them.

"i mean if it wasn't a date, i don't get why you're so upset." maya blurts out her intrusive thoughts, earning a nudge in her stomach by her sister.

you deeply sigh, having jihye's concern pan towards you. why do you seem to care so much about that girl?

"it isn't about that." you respond with a worried expression. "you already know how introverted haerin is, you can't just randomly yell that out -- especially in a public setting."

your best friend rolls her eyes, your words going through one ear and coming out the other. "i was just genuinely excited for you."

"me?"

maya nods. "haerin is a cute and nice girl and you were complaining about how you hated being single, let alone get grossed out when boys try to court you. i just figured you'd want to try something new with a nice and cute person like her."

"i see. but maya you'd have to understand that me dating is my own personal matters, besides even though i always complain on how single i am, i still don't want to be in the dating scene yet." you explain, thankfully without blurting out that you have feelings for your best friend's sister.

a crush is a crush.

"y/n is young to date anyways." jihye backs you up, feeling a sour taste at the idea of you and haerin possibly becoming a thing.

maya groans loudly, putting her head back to be dramatic. "we're only a year younger than you!"

"still too young." jihye crosses her arms, wanting to not talk about nor think about you dating. (after all, she's just being a protective older sister.)

the younger mo rolls her eyes at how geeky and overprotective her sister is being, getting up from the ramp that she was sitting on to reach you. "y/n, let's go leave this oldie behind. she's getting on my nerves."

"HEY!"

shaking at your head at how immature the two siblings are being, you can't help but to stare over at jihye more. oh, how pretty she is in the sunlight with her natural curly hair falling perfectly right at her shoulders.

the way jihye could never stay mad at anyone ever, that's how much of a sweet and kind person mo jihye is.

"AHHH! save me!" maya runs behind you, using you as shield from her jihye unnie.

jihye huffs in frustration at maya using you for protection before picking up your backpack from the ground. "it's getting late, let's start heading back home."

slinging your backpack around her shoulders, she starts walking in front.

pretty

"hehe." your best friend giggles in victory, kissing your cheek and making sure to leave a big 'smooch' sound which grabs jihye to stop walking and bringing her attention to you two.

"we're coming! we're coming!" maya could not help but to let out another eye roll at the way her sister is acting today.

you wait for a bit, standing behind to see the other two walking. however, your sense of vision floods and linger over jihye. oh, how she looks pretty while YOUR backpack is around her back. she even walks pretty, how is one's beauty made so perfect?

mr and mrs. mo made jihye with love.

"what are you doing?" maya turns around, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand to get a good look at you. "let's go!"

jihye turns around as well, her eyes basically smiling at you making you freeze and look off to the side of her face.

trying to play it cool, you let out a small laugh before running up to the both of them. to not over fluster yourself, you lean a bit more on maya's side.

this seems normal.

but, why does jihye want you closer to her? she can't help but to ask herself on why you seem to always draw a line between you and her? are you that uncomfortable around her? could it be because she's a year older than both you and maya?

with her hand clutching on one of the straps of your backpack, jihye distantly stares off into the streets, keeping quiet as she ponders on how to get closer to you.

it's only normal, right? you three basically grew up together, it's not weird at the fact she wants to become closer to you, right?

"isn't it strange that kyujin keeps leaving notes into someone's locker?" maya asks, wondering why one of their friends is trying to keep it a secret.

you can only hum in question, before trying to defend your friend. "i think it's honestly kind of cute."

"tch, so cheesy."

notes in a locker?

jihye patiently waits in front of your classroom, her hands gripping to the straps of her backpack while she looks down at her feet to calm her nerves down. she softly inhales and exhales, finding a steady breathing before your class ends.

"y/n." kyujin whispers to you across the classroom.

you struggle to drought down the lecture materials as you look up at your friend calling your name. "huh?"

you notice your friend making a weird jerking movement with her head, leaving you extremely confused and overstimulated due to the materials covered in class. "what?"

"look at the door." kyujin whispers back.

at your friend's words, you lazily dart your eyes to the door.

OH MY GOD??

at the sight of her, you immediately sit up in your seat, pretending to look studious in case she happens to peer inside the classroom. why could jihye possibly be here? and in front of your classroom?

and why does she look amazing in that grey sweats gym uniform? and her hair is so curly today, you can feel a sense of devotion just for her only. if only...she would see you the same way you see her.

jihye probably only saw you as a sister

all of a sudden, the urge for class to end disappears and you just want to stay seated at your desk FOREVER.

getting a quick glimpse of the clock, you internally start panicking as you curse out the clock for moving its hands too fast all of a sudden.

the second your teacher started to erase her work off of the whiteboard, the panic rises internally even more. class is ending soon and all of sudden, you want to stay here forever instead of facing your ongoing long term crush like an idiot.

everyone else in the class starts to put their workbooks away, having you start panicking even more and ultimately, you too put away your workbooks into your backpack with an anxious heartbeat racing.

you watch as everyone else disperse out the classroom, halting on purpose to still calm yourself down and figure out why jihye is out waiting here in front of your classroom.

"bye weirdo." kyujin sends you a flying kiss to which you shudder and grimace before she walks out the classroom.

jihye looks over, peering inside the classroom once the students exited out. she smiles softly at the way you're diligently taking the time to put away your workbooks and school supplies. jihye can't help but to admire a little bit of your features.

you look up from zipping up your backpack close, making direct eye contact with the older.

jihye smiles over at you, her pink rosy lips upturn with her signature lip gloss. you swore you could've felt your heartbeat stopped beating for a second at the smile. before you could even get straight back to what you were doing, jihye strides her way towards you.

OH MY GOD-calm down.

"hi unnie." you manage to say, calming down a bit while continuing to zip your backpack up.

the older lets out a soft hum. "hi y/n."

"w-what are you doing here?" you get out of your seat, asking her.

jihye pushes down the thought that you probably don't want to see her and manage a small smile at your question, grabbing your backpack and holding it. "maya is doing something for a project with her partner so i figured i would accompany you on your walk back home, if that's alright?"

alone? just the two of you? walking?

"y-yeah, that's alright." you softly smile at the older.

jihye gasps happily, nodding as she walks besides you out of the classroom, holding your backpack in her hand.

the silence is comforting yet it's killing you in the inside. only sounds of the both of you walking against the concrete ground could be heard. and strangely; you like it yet dislike it.

you only like it because walking with your crush is a blessing but you dislike it because what do you even do in this situation?

jihye admires your features a little longer, blatantly staring at you without knowing how it'd make you feel. frankly, jihye always found you perfect and adorable. (like a younger sister, right?) somehow; you look even more perfect in this sunlight.

'why is she staring at me so long like that?' you think to yourself, feeling nervous even more as the both of you continue to walk along a small trail to your neighborhood.

"so, you normally help out at the library?" jihye asks with a soft tender voice, smiling down prettily at you.

you let out a curt nod, diverting your eyes down at your feet to stop your cheeks from getting painted by a pink-hue. "haerin and i both help out at the library."

"ahh~ i see." jihye nods to herself, keeping that information stored into her brain. "so...this haerin. is she nice?"

jihye hopes she didn't sound too intruding for asking that question. why does she want to know so badly if haerin is nice to you or not?

you can only let out a shy nod in response.

jihye ignores the weird itchy feeling in the back of her throat, inhaling in deeply before speaking again. "that's...that's good."

the air falls silent again.

"y/n?"

you look up at her sweet voice calling your name, ignoring the way the soft vibrations of her voice affects your inner turmoil of emotions. "hmm, unnie?"

"umm...do you not like me?" jihye's voice is very gentle and quiet...with a sense of vulnerability seeping through.

god; if only she knows how much you like her. how much every glance she gives you make you feel overwhelmed and enthralled, giving you butterflies each time. or how much her voice calling your name out makes your heart pound in your chest.

"no...i do. why?" you compose yourself to be able to say those words.

jihye gazes down at you with a small smile, tilting her head. "you barely talk to me and when you do, only a few words are exchanged. you tend to be wary of your distance with me when i'm near you."

you sigh deeply silently, darting your eyes back to the ground, the cracks in the pavement looking more interesting than the face of the girl you've always had a crush on since you were seven.

jihye quietly observe you, waiting for your response.

"it's not that unnie..."

you sigh again, not knowing what to say to ease the older girl's mind.

"you just make me nervous..."

jihye's brows furrows at your words.

nervous?

"is it because i'm older than you?" the question comes out hesitantly from the older's lips, lingering in the air for a few seconds while the two continues walking.

you shake your head immediately. "n-no."

"is it because i'm maya's sister?"

"no."

jihye's lips changes into a small frown, her eyes full of curiosity. "then why do i make you nervous?"

before you could open your mouth to form a response to the older's question, a small bark and a scratch on your legs grab your attention. you glance down, seeing your family's beloved toy poodle. which means you've arrived home...

"ah~ looks like we've made it safely." the older smiles softly, putting distance between you two to give you space. "i'll let maya know i've taken you home safely."

you can only nod in response. "thanks unnie..."

"i'll see you around." jihye says, forcing a smile as she reluctantly turns around to start heading home.

thursday; at 5:30 pm is written down as the worse day in your entire life.

here you are, lying in maya's arms while she comforts you. her hand brushes through your hair while tears are pouring out from your eyes. it's dumb, really. to cry over someone who's probably only seen you as their little sister's best friend.

and yet; here you are...

all because you saw jihye hugging some cool girl who goes by the name of kim minji.

why does the world seems to punish JUST you?

"shh...it's alright..." maya soothes you, her tone in a hushed whisper.

she feels your tears subsiding as you sniffle softly.

"there, there...you're alright."

once you've managed to calm down and relax, maya slightly pulled back to take a look at you. her thumbs gently wiped around your tears.

"now, who made my darling cry?" maya asks in a small whisper.

how do you tell your best friend of ten years that you've had a crush on her older sister since the day you became friends?

you shake your head, worried of what maya would think if you told her.

before maya could open her mouth to respond back, the door of her room gets swing opened and there she is, jihye standing in the doorway with a concerned look.

"i...overheard on the way back to my room." jihye softly says, her eyes focus onto you. "is everything alright here?"

no. no. no.

it's as if her gentle and concerned voice makes it even worse and before you can stop yourself; a dam of tears starts to break.

oh boy, this will be a long night.

hey...hehe...sorry for the VERY late second part :( my laptop got stolen and i hate typing on my phone or ipad so i had to buy a new one...

prev

october 30, 2024; publishing date

taglist: OPEN

[themanlykittenkayden]

I’m so scared and excited by the news of a possible new multi-language QSMP-adjacent (?) project getting news this weekend

Like addressing the elephant in the room, I *am* scared that it may be too soon. It’s been a while since QSMP ended, but is that enough time to completely restructure, recuperate, and replan something that takes into account all of the issues that cropped up over the course of QSMP? I don’t know that it is

HOWEVER

I do think it’s not impossible with effective communication and a great team of well paid staff, especially if it’s a smaller project similar to purgatory

And I really really do think that QSMP should get a chance to re-prove itself *if* it’s possible to do so respectfully. I *want* QSMP to be an example not just of all the reasons a multi-lingual server is hard to make work (the high cost of additional moderation, the way mixing communities leads to miscommunications at best and harassment and bigotry when not careful, the cultural differences meaning that people will inevitably accidentally disrespect each other, and many others) but I want it to also prove that those things *can* be overcome and that these types of projects are *worth* making

I know Quackity Studios doesn’t have to be the one to take that next step, and maybe they shouldn’t be, but at the heart of QSMP was clearly a passion for joining disconnected communities in a cultural exchange of just having fun and telling stories together, and I WANT that vision to be realized so bad, just hopefully in a slightly different shape. So with a critical eye and a trepidation in my heart, I *will* still hold out hope for now

[evilbookworm]

Mileven and Billverly parallels

Ok I’ve been wanting to do this post for a while, (if you’ve seen my blog recently it’s dropped a few hints over how Mike and Bill are compared) so I am gifting you it with the best of my knowledge on cinematography (Watching lesbianmindflayer videos)

My number one priority is mentioning that yes, I do think the Duffers are purposely paralleling them. I mean, they have mentioned loving Stephen King’s work have they not? There’s also the reference to Mr. Baldo the clown in season 2 when Bob is talking to Will about getting over his fears. Of course, this might seem like a coincidence, but then Bob brought up Maine, which is where Derry, and most of Stephen King’s works are set, so I think it’s safe to say that there are some parallels to IT.

                               

First, I’d like to point out that Mike is the Party’s leader, just as BIll is for the Losers Club. It’s never been made official or anything, but it’s there. 

You may be wondering why them being leaders has to do with anything, but I assure you It’s an important parallel. Now, we can also see some parallels between how both Mike’s friends and Bill’s friends encourage them to pursue a relationship with El and Bev.

Now I want to bring up the way Bill and Bev bonded, and how after the Neibolt house, she’s the only one that stayed with him. We can also directly compare the fight between Mike and Lucas to the one between Bill and Richie. Lucas and Richie were both jealous and concerned about safety. Richie for Eddie and Lucas for all of them.

Now a small comparison between Bev and El. Bev sees the deadlights, which grants her visions of the losers in the future.  Then we have El, who can’t see into the future but can see where people are. Here are some images:

 Not very direct, but something they have in common.                       

We also have multiple times where Bill encourages his friends to help him find Georgie, as Mike does with Will.

Now let’s talk about the kiss. The first kisses are both quite similar. Both of them are done in a heat of the moment type way. In both scenes, the girls are taken aback.  

  They are incredibly similar and one of them isn’t an endgame ship.

Mike and Bev Comparisons + Benverly and Byler

Now, let’s talk about the Ben, Beverly, and Bill love triangle being paralleled to the Mike, El, and Will love triangle. More direct comparisons with Bev and Mike here. First, and most importantly, we have the poem and the painting. Bev receives this from Ben, and Mike receives this from Will.

The poem Ben sends to Bev is anonymous, and Bev doesn’t remember it’s from Ben until the second reunion they have. While not exactly paralleled to the painting Will gives Mike, it is similar. Will makes it look like the painting is from El, and Bev thinks the poem is from Bill.  

 Now, Bev realizes the poem is from Ben twice, the first is when he kisses her to save her from the deadlights, the second 27 years later in Pennywise’s layer when Ben recites it to her while they’re trapped in their visions, though Bev previously thought it was from Bill. This could be a direct comparison to the van scene, where it’s possible that Mike knows the truth about Will’s feelings. Mike may forget about this later, unless it is confessed to him while he’s being Vecna'd.

                                               

I also think Mike will be the one to be Vecna’d, so that’s another possible parallel to Bev. Bev is the one who isn’t very expected to be taken, but she is. Just like Mike. It isn’t expected to happen to him, but it will.                 

Mike + vecna imagery

And like with Ben and Bev, Will will break Mike out of Vecna’s trance. I can’t say it’ll be with a kiss, because Mike will most likely be hovering several feet in the air, but it’ll definitely be done by Will somehow.

So, in conclusion, Ben and Bev end up being endgame, and so will Mike and Will.

Not a very in depth analysis, really, but these are some good parallels I found and I don’t think I’ve seen anyone delve into the comparisons between them. 

Anyways, BYLER ENDGAME!!!        

(P.S. I spent like 3 hours looking for the right images so please don’t let this flop 🙏) 

[baddiewiththebook]

Over the Years | e.m x reader | p. 8

-> The origin story of Eddie Munson, and how he fell in love with the worst person he possibly could - his best friend.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language, suggestive themes, smut [18+]

a/n I'm so sorry for the hiatus. My mental health isn't where it should be, and my brain isn't in writing mode. I finally got this written down, and I left it alone for a while until I felt a bit more creative again. Hopefully, this chapter is good enough. Love you all!

-> <-

June 1983 . . . again

It’s so silly to be upset about something as ridiculous as a birthday. Big deal! You’ve had plenty of those in the past.

This morning you crumpled up a piece of paper taped to your fridge into a tight enough ball that your fingers began to pierce the flesh of your hands. Then, you toss the stupid note into the trash. Your mom left again. This time she and Brad are going to his vacation house.

Brad is yet another nobody she met after her shift at the strip joint in the sketchy part of town. Rich men flock to escape unhappy marriages, and pray on the poor sad strippers. Your mom keeps having too much hope that one of these men will pay-out and he will buy her a big fancy house. Unfortunately for her, their ruse will always draw her in. She does a few lines with them, and lays on her back for less than she’s worth. How could she even bring herself to this?

Eddie does try to cheer you up when he shows up to your house for the annual birthday celebration and the lights are dim throughout the house, and you’re slumped over your sofa like a deflated balloon. Somehow he coaxes you to get off of that couch. He encourages you to get yourself dressed by handing you shirts and handing you pants until he gets a grunt of approval out of you.

After you put on your clothes, you’re practically carried out to his van. You hesitate. After your mom swore something bad would happen if you get into his van, you’ve been sneaking rides now and again. Eddie’s also been giving you lessons when she’s not around. You frown. Gripping the handle tight, and with purpose, you swing open the passenger side door.

“Yes!” Eddie pats the seat next to him. Your boldened confidence sparks joy in him. That is until you give him the meanest mug known to man. And, you don’t mean to be harsh. You actually don’t realize that Eddie’s heart sinks when you grouch like this.

Rubber hitting gravel tunes out your huffing and puffing. When you hit the pavement, the shocks thud underneath you. Eddie says he’ll fix those eventually. He can’t fix the band equipment rolling in the back though. That’s something that just happens because he’s the only one in the band with a big enough rig to store all of this junk.

“I forgot to ask if you’re hungry,” Eddie says over the gray cloud covering your head.

You thunk your head against the window. It’s nearly eleven in the morning, and you haven’t had anything to eat. You’re not hungry. But, your stomach disagrees letting out the most aggravating groan. Why do bodies do that? The moment that someone mentions food, or when the room gets quiet - your stomach growls. It’s humiliating!

“I could eat,” you hold your stomach.

The way through to you is almost always food, or a brand new book. Eddie doesn’t have the time to drive all the way to Indianapolis to get you books from The Bookshelf, which is your favorite place to receive books from (or so Eddie can guess because he hasn’t gotten you anything you hate yet). So, he instead takes you to the next best place; Benny’s Diner.

It’s a hot spot. That’s mostly because it has been almost the only spot since ‘53. Yes, you’ve heard enough of Wayne’s stories from his younger years. He and his brother, Al, spent enough time downing milkshakes and getting brain freezes there. A part of you wants to ask Eddie more about his father, and if he is truly as bad as this town says he is. Eddie pretends not to recall a lot of his youth that was spent with his father, but behind those big brown eyes he’s got stories he could tell if he wanted too.

You slide your way into a booth across from Eddie after being seated by a snooty waitress with low hanging jowls and no patience for the teenagers, who, arguably, gives Benny’s the most buisness.

Some jock from the basketball team clambers over the back of the booth like a monkey to scoop fries off an innocent girl’s plate. Rightfully so, she swats at him, then aims a bottle of ketchup at his nose.

“Hey Wheeler,” the man dubbed ‘King Steve Harrington’ cups his hands around his mouth like a bird call to get the attention of Nancy Wheeler, who is just a booth and a half away with a thick chapter book between her fingertips.

Nancy meekly looks up without saying a word.

“It’s summer time,” he snorts. “What are you reading for?”

Tommy, another bone-head, clocks Steve in the shoulder with an open palm. This seems to encourage Steve’s prepubescent behavior. And, Steve jogs over to the table to bother Nancy some more.

What more is there to say about Steve? Steve Harrington. The man had enough brain cells to form one thought, and that was usually “party at my house!” Yes, after every basketball game that the Tigers won (which is a lot of games to be fair), you could find almost every member of the student body at his house.

It seems that Steve doesn’t care that his parents are never home. You wonder what they do to live in such a cushy house that’s bigger than most of the houses combined in Hawkins. Maybe you wouldn’t mind living like this if your family was rich too.

“What can I get you?” The waitress holds her pad of paper in one hand, and a sparkling red pen in the other. She puts all of her weight on one hip, so she can tap the other foot on the tile below. Her patience is running thin, and those kids on the other side of the restaurant are really starting to make her angry.

You speed through the menu, “strawberry milkshake and fries.”

Eddie orders a burger that he asks to be left a little bloody. When she glares at him, he moves on to order a vanilla milkshake without a wince when she snatches his menu from his hands.

Usually, Eddie will order some kind of burger that he has to add extra bacon and extra onions on top of. His favorite line is usually “bloody and stinky.”

If you weren’t feeling so bummed about your birthday, you might ask him if he’s on a diet. That always revs him up to push his stomach out and to talk with his belly button. Sometimes Eddie can be so childish - and really, you find him funny.

Today you wanted to be under five feet of dirt. You could finally get some peace and quiet after all that humming and worrying that goes on in between your ears. Your mom should be worried about you - not the other way around.

Eddie watches you become the booth behind you. Someone might as well have thrown water on you, and he wouldn’t be surprised if you started sobbing ‘I’m melting!’ right about now. Not like he’s seen the Wizard of Oz or anything. It’s not important enough to ever be mentioned out loud.

“Happy birthday?” Eddie tries to cheer you up. “Look, I know it’s not a cake and some candles. I don’t know. My dad and I never celebrated my birthday, and look how I turned out.”

You try not to be mean, so you let a sarcastic comment slide off your tongue. “You have tobacco in your teeth.”

The habit Eddie promises himself to quit. It’s just cigarettes, weed and the occasional sip of beer or two (or downing half a case by himself) for him. He’s got to stay healthy if he wants to make it to fifty. That’s high balling his life span. Okay, let’s say Corroded Coffin makes the big leagues in a couple of years, and Eddie at least wants ten good years with them - thirty. Thirty years is well enough for Eddie Munson. Er- that math isn’t right. Is it?

Eddie sucks the tobacco leaves out from his teeth, while you pick at the napkin in front of you. Seeing you so down nearly tears him in two. Having an absent parent himself, he knows the disappointment that’s eating you from the inside out. For years, Eddie would wake up in hopes that his dad would just show up completely sober. If he’s really optimistic that day, then his mom would come too. They’d be a big happy family and live in the suburbs. There would even be space for uncle Wayne.

Eddie knows the fantasy is just that. But, it isn’t about him. Your head is nearly touching the table, and he’s not so sure how to fix this. There isn’t really a way to fix this, is there?

The waitress returns with two shakes that she places down in front of you. A straw emerges from her apron pocket. She leaves you.

Your milkshake is questionably pink, but the real chunks of strawberries pressing against the glass make you forget what you’re about to consume. A glass of whatever the chefs get in those prepackaged containers that come in powdery. With a little mix of some milk, you’ll hardly taste the chemicals. with chunks of strawberries pressing against the glass. A wedge of whipped cream towers atop the shake with a strawberry dipped right on top.

Something that Eddie realized recently is how bright your eyes get when you’re excited. Inflating like a balloon, you sit straight up to stick the straw into the thick shake. Your lips kiss the straw without much thought, as Eddie begins to drift away from the restaurant.

In front of him, Eddie could dive deep into why he’s chosen you as his best friend. Because at first Wayne was just babysitting the neighbor kid and you could have easily been ignored from the next day after. Eddie finds you interesting.

Your lashes flutter away from him to the space behind him. As though in slow motion, his fantasy snaps.

“Jeff!” The sugar has already rushed to your brain in the absence of food, and in a fog you hiccup, “Hi, Gareth!”

Eddie whips around in time, before the two boys get too close to the booth. Their clothes are sticking to their bodies, and a fair amount of sweat graces their foreheads. Aside from being sticky, their mood is pleasant. Jeff tucks a helmet under his arm, as he approaches in a cool step.

Gareth swipes the sweat from his brow because really the hair sticking to him makes him itch, before causing a rash due to him mindlessly scratching his forehead off. He resists the tempting sting.

Meanwhile, Gareth also refuses to admit that the reason he stopped Jeff on their bike ride into town is because you’re sitting at a booth across from Eddie. Despite knowing how close you are as friends, there’s a grumpy troll deep in his belly that’s stomping on his gut that tells him to ‘just make sure.’ He rolls his shoulders back, and begs his face to quit frowning.

“Who knew the circus was in town?” Jason Carver cups his hands around his mouth. “Freaks!”

Chrissy Cunningham whacks him across the chest for being rude. As much as she likes Jason, his attitude towards the nerdy group that they all share the same high school with does really bother her. She puts up with him because she’s already introduced him to her parents, and maybe in a few years he’ll calm down.

While Jeff, Eddie and Gareth are more or less used to the treatment they receive from the goon squad, you can’t help but notice the way Gareth shoots a glare behind himself. This goes ignored by Jason, as one of the girls at the table has a spilled her soda. Surely, Jason would have caught the venomous stare and thrown Gareth halfway across the room. You don’t go looking for that sorry of trouble.

“‘Sup!” Jeff greats Eddie and yourself. “What are you two up too?”

“It’s her birthday,” even though he does like Jeff and Gareth, Eddie wishes the boys could take a hint and scram. Jeff has other intentions and does the polar opposite by plopping down nearly on Eddie’s lap.

“Happy birthday, girl!” Jeff wishes. “Got any big plans for the day?”

You shrug, “my mom is out of town, so I don’t really have anything going on.”

“What’s she out of town for?” The boy scrunches his nose up, and Eddie elbows him in the side. A desperate attempt on his part to get Jeff to shut-the-hell-up. “Business?”

“Sort of,” if only the business your mom conducted brought more money back to the house, instead of drugs.

A tickle lifts inside your throat that you swallow down. Perhaps the glossiness in your eyes could be hidden behind your lashes, and suddenly your drink becomes a lot more interesting. Flicking the condensation on the glass, Jeff leans over to whisper to Eddie about something.

“Gareth,” Jeff turns to the boy standing awkwardly at the head of the table. He hasn’t dared sit next to you, yet. “Can you entertain the birthday girl? I gotta talk to Eddie about something out back.”

Gareth opens his mouth to protest, but the words die flat on his tongue because Jeff and Eddie have already scooted from the booths. Their “business” is a classic exchange. Gareth’s been apart of a few of these dealings. In some ways, Eddie’s a bit of a douche come pricing on his supplies.

Everyone at Hawkins has bitten into the apple per se. It’s only when they need him that Eddie’s treated decent. So, Gareth supposes Eddie has his reasons to up-charge certain clientele.

There’s no word as to why Gareth gets the treatment, but he supposes there’s a reason or two.

Someone loudly clears their throat behind Gareth. It’s the waitress from earlier holding two hot and heavy plates of food. Gareth apologizes to her rolling eyes, before sliding into the booth across from you without much thought. The waitress drops the food off, then without another word she scurries off back to the kitchen.

“Jesus,” Gareth stares at the grease pile in front of him. “What did Eddie order this time?”

“They definitely spat on that,” you question your fries. “You know Eddie.”

“Oh, yeah,” treating society like they treat him, as always.

Gareth pushes the plate to the right where the sun kisses the burger through the window. It doesn’t look any more appealing in the light than the shadows in front of him. The silence between you and he is filled with drumming that comes from Gareth tapping the table.

You offer him your fries just to get him to knock it off. It’s not annoying, but his fidgeting is making you just as anxious. The tension subsides when Gareth pops a fry into his mouth.

“Can I ask?” He swallows, before speaking.

You raise and drop your shoulders unsure you want to answer. But, Gareth takes this as permission.

“Your mom has been out of town for a while?” It slips as more of a question, but the statement is put out there. Your mom is an absent parent. The only one you have.

“She came home for a short time with-,” you don’t know why you’re still defending her. Maybe she’ll come around one day and she’ll realize how great having a child has been. Doubtfully, “her coworkers. Er- but she suddenly had to go out of town. Meetings.”

The coworkers in question are the bums that stay after hours to give her a reason to party. Lately, the parties have bled into the living room. You’re stuck holding out in your room until they sober up enough to slobber out onto the street like a pack of dogs on the loose.

Dogs behave better than them.

“Meetings,” Gareth repeats as a mutual agreement not to press anymore questions, then quickly pops another fry into this mouth. This time he misses the landing, and the fry darts off of his cheek.

It’s hard to remember when the two of you hardly got along. That Gareth had been stubborn enough to decide that you would become a distraction for Eddie and the band would suffer. It now seems that there’s a different storm brewing instead of the one before it.

You cover your mouth, but the sweet melody brushes past your lips. Gareth goes a bit pink in the face, as he covers up the glee that he has at least amused you today.

The diner has quieted by the large group of teenagers getting up, and leaving through the front door. Nancy stays at her table reading a chapter book, and is most certainly grateful they’ve all gone. She won’t admit to keeping Steve Harrington’s phone number, but she will tuck the napkin tight in her pocket.

Music plays overhead that you hadn’t heard when you first came in. It’s fifties. An appropriate theme for how old the diner looks. Bright red booths. Checkered floor. Stainless steel instead of gold metal. It’s classic.

Gareth watches your eye wander away from him, as he decides how he wants to pull your attention back in. If he didn’t know any better, Jeff and Eddie were taking a suspicious amount of time to get back. That’s not to say he’s complaining. Any time getting you away from Eddie is getting Gareth that much closer to becoming bolder about his intentions with you.

Your heart skips inside your chest when Gareth’s knee knock into yours underneath the table. In not so many words, you hear him out and you understand him. A bit of relief settles your belly, but not before another aggravated weight of tension.

Pavlov and his damn dogs! That familiar jingle of the front door has both Gareth and you scooting back in your chairs. The heat from his body fades away from you.

Eddie and Jeff return.

“I told you they wouldn’t kill each other,” Jeff snorts.

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Actually,” Gareth stands, so Eddie could have his place in the booth again. “We should get going.”

“I got something to do later,” Jeff pats his left pocket at his hip. No one is as amused as he is by his joke, but you pity him a laugh.

Before they can leave, a hand swings out to grab Gareth by the wrist. Eddie’s got wild eyes and a goofy grin. The boy is devilish, but he’s not the devil.

“What?” Gareth raises his brow.

Eddie retracts his grasp, and instead replaces it for an open palm reaching towards Gareth. “You owe me ten.”

“Eddie,” you scold. “He didn’t even touch your burger and he only ate a bite off of my food.”

Over the last couple years, Eddie has gotten better and better at the theatrics. When your at school together, he has this little habit of standing on top of lunch tables. You’ve gotten cautious now, and you’ll move your lunch before he kicks goalie kicks it across the room. Does he practice these monologues? One will never know with him.

“Not for breakfast, sweetheart,” his tone is firm. You’ve never been ‘sweatheart’ before. Sure, you have nicknames for each other. That’s just - weird. “I saw you with Jeff the other day. Ten bucks, big boy.”

Jeff and Gareth smoke sometimes from the stash that Eddie gives Jeff. After upping the charge for Gareth, they have a method that outsmarts Eddie. Or, at least their method used to outsmart him. Despite flunking a few classes, Eddie’s quick as a whip in his street smarts. There’s no getting around him!

“Come on,” Gareth protests, but reaches around for his wallet. “You can’t share amongst your good friends?”

“There’s nothing in the rules that says you can’t,” Eddie explains, “but, when you’re explicitly smoking from him to snag a free deal - Gareth, I feel duped!”

“Eddie,” you scold with open palms face down on the table. “It’s my birthday, and you can’t torture my friends on my birthday.”

Eddie snorts in disbelief, “it’s Gareth.”

You’re stone cold. That look might just pop Eddie’s head clear off. When did you give a shit about Gareth?

There hasn’t been a time yet that you’ve expressed any concern over Gareth. Jeff - yes. There was the time that Jeff had a paper due, you went through his mistakes in red ink, so that he could make corrections. You’re really good at writing. You should be with all the time you’re stuck in those notebooks writing away, and never letting anyone take a peak. Or, when Jeff needed to learn how to bake cookies for his Home Ec final. You were there too. But Gareth? Were you ill?

Eddie’s expression softens as he releases Gareth.

“Fine,” he sighs, “I’ll let it go.”

Gareth isn’t quite sure if he should thank you in front of Jeff and Eddie. Mostly because Eddie keeps one-eyeing him over his burger. Jeff wants to ask how you learned that trick on Eddie, as he can be quite persistent when he wants something done his own. Meanwhile, you’re snacking on another fry like it was nothing.

Before Eddie wants to start any more trouble, Jeff whisks Gareth away in a flash. They’ll probably smoke together, while digging an even bigger trench that they’re in with Eddie.

You’re left to enjoy a quiet meal with your best friend. Occasionally, you beg him to chew the food in his mouth with his lips shut. You’ll give up sometime when the burger is halfway down and done with.

Eddie won’t let you pay even though he’s practically down to dimes, quarters and dollar bills. It’s your birthday, and you’re going to be treated like the golden princess you are. Anything to let Eddie see your gleaming white smile is a win to him.

You don’t have a chance to spend much time with Eddie because he’s got an unspecified “something” to do today. It’s probably the band. They’re practicing this afternoon.

With that, you hop back into the passenger seat of his van. Eddie takes the long way around to your house, so you can practice your drum solo on his dash board. Slowly, you’ve picked up on a few of Eddie’s favorite songs. One day you might out-drum Gareth, and you could join the band.

Only in Eddie’s fantasies - not that he has a lot of fantasies about you. There’s an occasional rip in his friendship with you, as he likes to put it. A fluke. You’re not a fluke. It’s all him.

Anyway, you’re landing flat foot in the dirt right in front of your abode. Eddie wouldn’t let you walk the few steps across from his trailer. It’s silly how he does that. You wave like he’s going to be leaving for a journey to a far away land, instead of driving a couple feet and parking his van in front of his trailer.

You’ve got plenty of clean-up left to do inside of your home. There’s dirty dishes piled in the sink, the counters are covered in food and you might as well sweep the floor since you’re in there. The bathroom could also use a mop. Oh, but you might as well clean the entire bathroom. Because what’s the point in mopping if the bathroom isn’t clean?

The clock on your mother’s bed stand reads close to four in the afternoon when you finally finish making her bed with freshly washed sheets. It’s taken you hours, but the home is just starting to smell less like dread and a little more like hope - and lavender. You got a deal on room spray from the bargain store in town.

Stretching your arms way above your head, you decide to celebrate with a hot shower. The water running over your aching shoulders would feel good right about now. Plus, the towels are fresh from the wash as well.

Clean.

It’s such a simple, yet rewarding feeling. You don’t get to experience it all that often.

Cigarettes have stained the walls of your home, and buried themselves deep into your carpet fibers. There’s even a few burns here and there from your mother’s habit of falling asleep with a cigarette between her fingers.

You wrap yourself in a towel and forget about that for a moment. It’s just you and a bottle of lotion across your skin.

From your bedroom window, you can see Eddie pulling into his trailer once again. Back from band practice, Eddie skips up the steps to his trailer. You stop in the moment when Gareth jumps out of the passenger side. A dark t-shirt with missing sleeves and a pair of worn down denim shorts differ from this morning’s sweats. You don’t mean to stare, but really is it that awful to look over the menu? You’re not even ordering anything.

Snorting at yourself, you close the curtain for your own privacy to change and to loosen the thoughts bleeding your innocence. You throw a shirt over your head, and suddenly hear a single knock at your front door. It’s loud like a knock anyways.

Dressing yourself decently in a comfortable pair of pajamas (you have no plans to go anywhere), you head straight to the front door to figure out what the noise could be. Maybe your mom had come back, and she drunkenly forgot her keys.

Actually, the knock is a much prettier sight. There’s a bouquet of flowers in bright rich purples. You wonder who remembered your favorite flowers are these little orchards with the white center. There’s a card poking from the center of the bundle with Eddie, Jeff and Gareth’s nearly illegible handwriting. You hate to call their new band-mate ‘Freak,’ but he has signed the card as well. It says ‘Happy Birthday,’ and you coo.

You pick the bouquet off the porch by the glass vase the flowers are displayed in. Inhaling sweet aromas of warm days reading a good book in a field, you could cry.

“Thank you!” You wave to Gareth and Eddie, who are hiding neck deep in the engine of Eddie’s van pretending not to watch your reaction. They don’t really know much about girls, but you are one and so they try to make you feel different than them. They want you to feel special.

Eddie half waves like he’s too cool to admit what he’s done, but Gareth pops his head from the van and spins around to get a good look at you.

You hardly notice Gareth’s lingering gaze, as you’ve already closed the front door of your house with you inside.

It doesn’t take long for the phone to ring.

“Hello?”

“Are you ready?” Robin’s voice comes through clear and bouncing with energy.

You snicker. “Ready for what?”

“My mom is on her way to pick you up, you’re sleeping over at mine tonight,” she says as a matter-of-fact.

“Am I?”

“Eddie called me,” she explains, “Happy birthday by the way - oh! Your mom is a bitch.”

Robin begins rambling about the times your mom has irritated her because that’s what you two do. Among all things, Robin is your sibling by terms of the longevity of your friendship. She’s the only person to get away with calling out your mom directly to you.

“Robin,” you pause her rant. “If you want me over, I need to get an overnight bag ready.”

“Oh, right,” she clears her throat. “Five minutes.”

“Five?!” You exclaim. The line goes dead.

Oh, Robin. How you love her.

-> <-

[to be continued]

tags -> @leelei1980 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @jesuisbuginette @starrywhitenight @meetmeatyourworst @munsonburn3r @5tud10-54r4h @pvdulmol @loveryanax

[vex-jb]

Pick Your Vibe! ✨💖

Heyy, guys ! 🌙💕 Want a little insight into your love life or guidance from the universe? I’m offering some FREE love readings right now!

Here’s how it works:

1. Heart and reblog this post to spread the love! 💖

2. Drop the emoji for the reading you’d like in my ask box, or send me a message! 🧙‍♀️

🌹 1. “Secret Admirer ?” 🌹

Want to know if there’s someone crushing on you or if that person you’re thinking of is feeling the same? I’ll pull a card to reveal if there’s secret admiration!

💌 2. “Love Message from the Universe!” 💌

Not sure what to ask? Let the universe send you a random message about your love life! Perfect if you’re open to whatever guidance comes your way.

🔥 3. “Where’s the Spark?” 🔥

Feeling the romance energy but want to know where to look? I’ll give you a hint on where to find that spark!

🌙 4. “Is it Worth the Wait?” 🌙

Crushing, longing, or just curious if someone’s worth the time? I’ll pull a card to see if this love is worth hanging on to.

🎡 5. “Love Around the Corner” 🎡

Wondering if new love is coming your way soon? This is a quick peek at any potential romantic connections around you!

✨ **P.S.**✨ If you want a more in-depth reading, I’ll have some special offerings coming soon. But for now, let’s keep it light, short, and super fun! Can’t wait to connect! 🌟

Here’s a way to introduce yourself that feels welcoming, transparent, and engaging for your Tumblr audience:

🌟 A little about me 🌟

Hey there, I’m Lin! I’ve been reading tarot for nearly three years now, and I love using it as a tool for fun, insight, and guidance. I’m dedicated to understanding the traditional meanings of each tarot card, but I also trust my intuition to bring a unique, personal touch to each reading. Occasionally, I’ll channel messages that add an extra layer to what the cards reveal, though I always aim to keep my interpretations rooted in the original meanings.

I don’t claim to be psychic, and my readings are for insight and enjoyment. Often, they align with future events, but timing is always flexible—it could be immediate, or it might take weeks or months to unfold. And if we don’t fully connect, that’s okay, too! Not every reader is the perfect match for everyone.

From my own experience, finding a truly connected tarot reader is rare, so I’m grateful for the chance to offer my best to you all. Remember, tarot can show possible paths and outcomes, but free will plays a huge role in any reading—it’s all about guidance rather than guarantees.

If you’ve had a reading from me, please feel free to share feedback! Honest insights help me grow and improve. ✨ I’ve had readings come true both for myself and others—sometimes quickly, sometimes months later. Either way, I’m here to explore the energy with you and offer insight when you need it.

Looking forward to connecting! 💫