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tulipsforyourlips · 10 months ago

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✧˖°. i found you ✧˖°. (3)

|| the sandman x dead boy detectives ||

SUMMARY: You run the dead boys detective agency along with your two best friends. And somehow two ghosts and a living girl make it work. Until you dream one night, of dream himself.

PAIRING: dream of the endless x fem!reader

WC: 3K+

WARNINGS: none i can think of

PART 3✧˖°.

"What the fuck." Your heart beat thunderously in your ribcage. "Are you stalking me?"

The goth guy paid no heed to your question. "I am Dream."

You just stared at him. "Oh okay and I am a nightmare?"

He only became more stern if that was even possible. He took a step forward.

"Don't. I'll call the police," you threatened.

He continued on without paying any heed to your threat. Who the fuck does he think he is?

"I am King of Dreams-"

"Dude-I told you not working."

"Stop talking.” His voice was low but the words were sharp.

But you weren't going to turn down your sass because of a man? Cmon.

"I am Dream-"

"I think I got that bit.”

An imperceptible flare of his nostrils made you zip your mouth. Wow you really got under his skin.

"I am Dream of the Endless and you mortal, have been chosen for a destiny greater than your cause.”

You gawked at him and broke into a chuckle, "o-okay Dream, Wait." You straightened. "Did you say the Endless? Like Death?"

You didn't know much about the Endless but you for sure knew Death was one. He did not answer your question but he did not deny your claim, so you assumed it an affirmative from him.

"How do I know?"

"Know what?"

"That you are infact one of the Endless and not a serial killer concocting stories to trap his victim."

He stepped closer and this time you let him. "Oh I do concoct stories.” He brought his hand to his mouth and blew...sand particles?

However you had no time to asses that for certain because the next second you were suspended in the cosmos, your body pulling in all directions, vivid images clashed in your mind, touring you through the entire world and all in a blip of a second. You grabbed the rim of your bedstand as your mind spiraled, reeling itself back to reality.

"Woah," you breathed out.

Had you just disrespected an Endless? And called him a stalker? You cringed.

"We will meet again," Dream said as he swooped his cloak over his head.

"Wait." He halted his actions.

"Why me?"

A flicker of emotion fired in his eyes, so brief you labeled it as your imagination.

"Goodnight mortal.”

You woke up with a start. And clutched your head in your hands, stupid dream. You glanced at your alarm clock and then realized it was broken, that you broke it and instead looked at the digits glowing on your phone screen, 5:00 am. Sleep would not come to you now, you knew that much so you put on your slippers and made your way to the kitchen, padding softly so as to not make any sound. You put on the stove and boiled the milk for some coffee, allowing your thoughts till now kept at bay to flood your mind. Okay so that was a dream, explains some stuff. But then those blurs in your dream, and you were sure you had seen him at the corridor yesterday. Unless you had watched a movie starring him and now you saw the actor everywhere. Nah that wasn’t true. But what about your dream? Ever since you were seventeen, you had dreamed only of that place with the mountains and the river. Or maybe before, it wasn't like you remembered anything before that, before your life here, with Edwin and Charles. Is something burning? Oh no. The milk was overflowing, dripping down the slab onto the floor.

"Fuck," you cursed.

How the heck did this even happen? You were staring right into the pot. You grabbed for a cloth, dabbing the milk away. The vessel was tarred black with the burnt milk inside. You couldn't do one bloody job properly.

"Turn around!"

You did, hands up in the air, heart beating exponentially fast yet again. Edwin was in his pajamas, a quizzical look adorning his face. The ghosts didn’t really need sleep but they still liked to bide the time away by resting when there were no immediate cases in need of solving.

"Hazel?" he furrowed his brows and then examined the mess you were standing in. "What are you doing? I thought you were a thief or a ghost hunter or something.”

"Ghost hunters exist?" You were genuinely surprised.

"Dunno," he shrugged. "It's 5 in the morning, how are you up?"

"A dream.”

"A nightmare?"

"Not exactly.”

"A different one?"

You nodded. Edwin was taken aback at that. He knew about your dream, and that it was the only thing you ever dreamed about. Hell he knew everything about you. Both of them did. They were your only family.

The sun was slowly starting to emerge from underneath the cover of the dark. Edwin approached you at your place on the couch, two coffee mugs in his hand, steam ascending from them. He handed you your mug and took his place beside you.

You took a sip of your coffee. "Mmm.”

"Passable eh?" He teased.

"Yeah." You threw your head backwards.

A comfortable silence enveloped you both, your shoulders touching and knees budging each other.

"You want to talk about it?"

It took you a second to realize the context, "No." You shook your head. "It's nothing.”

"Okay." He didn't probe further and you were thankful for that.

You felt someone watching you and you glanced at the window, only to find a crow? a raven? looking back.

"Bastards.”

You both turned your head to the source where a jealous Charles stood. "Are you having coffee without me?" He was acting like you both were cheating on him.

"Oi calm your horses, its not like your body requires coffee."

"And I care why? Everything is not about survival loser." He flicked your forehead.

"Ouch.” You sent him a glare.

"Okay I don't have the energy nor the patience to sit through this." Edwin got up. "You two, be ready in fifteen. Cases await us."

The moon was beginning to appear in the sky and the wind blew some mischievous strands of your hair across your face as you stapled the posters in your hands on the poles around you. A boy was missing, and your client was sure it had to do with some supernatural activity. It paid well so the agency didn't question it further. While the both of them were searching the location of his disappearance for clues, you were seeking more information about him. The wind knocked some papers out of your hand, and you bent down to pick them up. Your body jerked back when you straightened up.

Hand on your heart, you exclaimed, "Jeez!"

The goth guy from your dream stood before you.

"You seriously need to stop doing that," you gritted out.

And then suddenly your mind clicked and the words left you before you could stop them. "Wait you are real?"

Ever so slightly, Dream's face morphed into a question mark.

Okay so that definitely wasn't a dream, it was real. Very real apparently you realized as you assessed the man, no Endless standing before you.

"You need to come with me," he said oblivious to the raging commotion happening inside your mind.

You didn't reply, instead widened your eyes for an elaboration.

"To the Dreaming, my realm.”

"I can't, I am on a case.”

"Your friends can manage without you," he stated as a matter of fact.

You scoffed, "first of all that's rude, secondly-"

But before you could finish, sand, yeah sand for sure, began to swirl around you, gaining more motion until it enwrapped your entire body and when you next opened your eyes, you were in the Dreaming.

"Holy mother of god," you breathed as your eyes took in the throne room, the magnificence of it all, the colours shimmering in the glass pane, the cosmos swirling above you, the vastness of where you stood. You felt trivial, a bug in the path of a jogger.

"Lucienne I would like you to meet somebody," Dream's voice rasped and you revolved your head to face the woman his words were directed to.

A woman with skin like chocolate, sporting fashionable coattails and wearing spectacles that made her look infinitely wise or perhaps the glasses were just an addition to her preexistent wisdom met your eyes.

She bowed her head. “Greetings your lady."

You returned her gesture. "Hello Lucienne."

"Lucienne is my most trusted advisor and the sole librarian of this realm," the Endless spoke.

"Wow, I wonder what the library of the dreaming would look like.”

She peered at you in bafflement for a moment before quickly collecting herself.

"It would be my honour to show you sometime.”

"The honour would be all mine, Lucienne,” you smiled.

"Lord Morpheus," she called to the Endless.

Morpheus? Who the heck is Morpheus?

"Um who is Morpheus?" You decided to voice your curiosity.

A knowing glance passed between the two.

"It's another name I am called by.”

Oh.

"Lucienne go on,”

"There were further abruptions reported earlier around the house of mystery and..."

You were no longer paying attention to Lucienne's speech as your gaze travelled along the enormous cracks dividing the ground.

"Sorry to interrupt but is this part of the decor?" You asked the both of them.

"No," Morpheus sighed, "and that precisely is why you are here.”

"You don't have construction crew around here?"

Morpheus clenched his jaw, "We have Mervin, however this problem does not concern him. It runs deeper than you can comprehend.”

"Then help me comprehend," you said.

Morpheus eyes' pierced into yours, "All in time mortal."

Your legs dangled below you from where you sat in the library. As promised, Lucienne had shown you around and to say you were mesmerized beyond your wits would be a brutal understatement. You were in the dreaming, an entirely different realm, sitting in its library that towered even after you stretched your neck to its capacity, and were going through books that no mortal would have ever had the luxury of touching or even knowing that such pieces exist. Not to mention, having spoken with an Endless. An Endless? The king of Dreams himself. For a second you feared if you were dreaming again. But the old pinch sufficed to make you believe the opposite. But why? How? Your mind was a muddling mess. Guaranteed you had your fair share of weirdness working with the dead boy detectives but this was something entirely else. The librarian had introduced you to Mervin, who to your astonishment was actually a pumpkin head. You were after all in the realm of the dreams, if anything was possible, it was here. A sudden caw pulled you from your spiraling. A crow perched on your shoulders. No a raven? Was this…the raven from before? The one you had glanced in the living room's window?

"Hi kid, I am Matthew."

You weren't as taken aback as you thought you would be at the talking raven. You were slowly getting used to all the craziness.

"Hi Matthew, I am Hazel.”

"Pretty name.”

"Flattery doesn't work on me, just for your information," you stated, your gaze fixed on the words in the book propped open on your lap. "It might serve the goth guy you work for stalker.” You narrowed your eyes at the raven.

"Ooh, a feisty mortal, nice you and I would get along very well.”

And you both did. It would have been just minutes chatting away with Mathew but as your laughs erupted in the silence around you, you felt you had known the guy forever, the raven, oh the raven that had been a guy once.

"Matthew," Dream's cold tone quieted you both. “Leave us alone.”

"Yes boss," the raven obeyed.

"Accompany me,” Dream said as he turned away expecting you to follow behind.

Arrogant.

You fell in with him, a question on your lips when the gates to the palace opened. The question forgotten, your mouth parted in amazement as you stared at the vast expanse of gardens before you. You exited the palace steps, incredulity lingering on your face as you inhaled the sheer exquisiteness of the place you were in.

Dream ushered his head in a direction. "Come," and continued that way.

You jogged to match up his pace.

"What do you know about the Endless?" He asked.

"Very little," you admitted, "I mean I know there are seven of them, Death being one and now you apparently, but I'm afraid that's about all the knowledge I have."

"It is still more than what humans generally know about us."

"Well it's the courtesy of my friends.”

"Ah, your ghost friends," he disclosed.

You stopped in your tracks. "You know?"

"That they are ghosts?" He walked on.

"Yeah I just wondered- I figured you didn't know and that's why you didn't tell Death.”

"Oh Death knows," he revealed the information with a glint in his eye, as if he was enjoying your reaction.

"What?" You cried. Gathering yourself, you said, "Then why doesn't she..go after them? Bring them to the sunless lands and whatever?" You joined him.

"Death has her reasons. She is far kinder than you know.”

"I, I don't know what to say."

Morpheus did not try to continue the conversation. You both walked in silence for some time. Questions ran rampant inside your head, but never left your lips.

"Ask," he said not tearing his eyes away from the path.

You didn't even realize he had sensed your hesitation. Questions grappled with each other to be released first and in that brawl you muttered the stupidest of them all. "How many names do you have?"

If Morpheus was surprised at the choice of your question, he didn't show it. "Many.”

Wow okay that was one elaborate answer if you heard any. Did it pain him to speak?

Just as you had accepted that's all you would get from him, he spoke, "Dream, Morpheus, Oneiros and Sandman to name a few.”

"The Sandman? As in the fable Sandman?"

"Tell me mortal, do I look like a fable to you?"

"Fair point," you mused.

Taking the opportunity of his answering mood, you exploited your luck further. "Can the mortals visit the dreaming anytime? I mean how does this even work?"

"Yes, whenever a mortal sleeps, he enters my realm where I contain the unconscious of the entire world.”

"That sounds…tough.”

"Does this mean I am sleeping right now?" You queried further.

"Exceptionally, no. I brought you here. Your soul and your body are both intact at the present and there is no trace of you in the waking world."

Your mouth opened once more to ask him another question, when his raspy voice cut through the air. “You get one more.”

The ego of this man, fine you insolent arse.

"Do you ever get lonely?"

If you were paying rapt attention you would have noticed the falter in his steps but your eyes were trained on his face.

"No," he answered.

"Seriously? Not ever?"

"You have run out of your questions and your friends must be waiting for you." He turned his body towards you.

But before he could procure his pouch of sand from his cloak, the ground gave a sudden croak beneath you. Followed by a deafening cracking as the very ground you stood upon began parting into two.

"What the-," you started.

Dream grabbed your elbow and pulled his cloak over you both. The universe itself seemed to wrap around you and in the next moment you were in the waking world. He released his hold on your elbow as if your touch had burned him. He would probably need to wash his hands after touching a mortal.

"Stay here," he ordered.

Before you could object, he had vanished. You waited in the clearing, the stack of posters on the ground and the moon bathing you in its light. You were gone for more than half a day but only a few hours had passed back here. Times moves differently here, Lucienne's words entered your mind. After waiting another 10 minutes, you got up from your position on the ground, collected the posters in your hand, and began to make your way back to the apartment. He wasn't coming back.

Just as you were out the woods, Morpheus' voice reached your ears. "I told you to stay there.”

You turned back. Moonlight filtering through the trees illuminated his pale skin to ghastly pale. He looked beautiful. What? Shut up brain.

"I thought you weren't coming back."

Morpheus didn't say anything to that. This guy really needed to work on his communication skills.

"What was back there?"

"The realm is collapsing, at the rate of the damage we have very little time."

"For what?"

"To prevent it from happening.”

"But-"

"Rest tonight mortal. We begin tomorrow." And with those obscure words he was gone in a blur.

You opened the door to the apartment and were immediately met with yelling. "Where the fuck were you?"

"You just totally vanished!"

"We searched for you everywhere!"

"Why weren't you answering your phone?"

"We were worried!"

Charles and Edwin's frenzied voices overlapped each other.

"Guys guys stop!"

They both fell silent.

"I am sorry I-I had to be somewhere on an urgent business and my phone died down."

"Next time the very least you can do is inform us beforehand," Edwin chided you.

"I swear the situation was out of my control, I promise it won't happen again."

Edwin's features softened and he asked, "Are you alright?"

You exhaled, "Yep I am aces."

"Get your own catchphrases," Charles muttered behind you and draped his arms around your neck from the back. "We are just glad you are back safe and in one piece.”

You leaned against his frame. "You can't even lie properly.”

"Hey sod off.” He broke apart the embrace.

You laughed at his tantrums.

"Anyways you wouldn't believe the adventure we had today. It was brills. Turns out the missing boy was actually..."

Yeah you wouldn't believe the adventure I had today either. We begin tomorrow, the words scraped against the walls of your mind.

A/N: phew the stage is set. so lmk ur thoughts<3 i would love to hear em!!

SERIES MASTERLIST ✧˖°.

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twistedpink · 1 month ago

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Hello! Not an ask, just fangirl rambling (not sure if you're into that though.?)

In answer to your ''Lilia vs Idia x Reader anyone'' from a few days ago YES I AGREE we see tons of adeuce x reader and idia x azul x reader but never with Lilia and Idia?? Which makes no sense to me, there's so much potential there! Firstly Lilia and Idia's relationship is as incredibly funny as it is touching (on top of being the two best written characters in this game but I may be biased), secondly their personalities balance each other so well, and thirdly the scenarios possibilities - them not knowing they're online bff when reader becomes close friends with them both separately (Idia moping and judging at the same time cause you're hanging with the n°1 freaky extrovert, going ''yeah obviously you'd rather spend time with a charismatic hyper dude than me...'' and ''ugh you like this guy??'' at the same time. Meanwhile Lilia finds it endearing that you'd befriend such a socially awkward guy, but also, you have weird taste?) and then bring in romance and jealousy and they get worse. But then again, make them realize they're actually online bff!! And now reader can hang out with both of them at once, and do so many fun group activities (playing four players games with Ortho -grim canonically gets frustrated with controllers : ( going to premo concerts, to cons, perhaps even a cat or game cafe), Lilia would happily drag Idia out of his room, literally if needed, and Ortho would be ecstatic his brother has not one but two friends, gets out more and always ends up having a good time (on top of building confidence and trust in others)! And maybe even Lilia could get emotional growth out of it; if two people not from his found family keep telling him how awesome and loved he is perhaps he'd start internalizing it and value himself more? But also the bittersweet romantic tension in a bff trio! Uuugghh why does no one writes fic about them

Just consider the perfect imageries of their duo : SF and medieval fantasy! Otaku shut in and chaotic adhd hyper goth! Vampire-like dark fae weapon of war and literal god of the underworld (the goth dream)! The height difference! -and somehow a great deal of their clothes are the same size

also, the snark fest would be phenomenal with both their forces combined

YES my favourite part of the musclegloom dynamic is that this is their escape, and obviously they have no idea it’s just “that guy from class” bc even if they did get close it’s pretty wild to accuse someone that you’ve been playing RPGs together for an extended period of time. Imagine the TENSION when you get closer to them as indidviduals- peeling back the layers and going “hey! I used to play something exactly like this back home, can I sit in?” And bc they’re whipped they let you, but those gaming accounts are sacred!!! So Idia starts beginner friendly games w/ you and Lils just plays the stuff he likes on new accs. Imagine being with Idia on a new game (inching your way into his lap bc sue me it’s cold) WHILE getting spammed by Lilia. Your phone’s vibrating every couple seconds and Idia’s scowl just gets worse bc he knows exactly who it is. Even going as far to TRIPLE TEXT you (wowwww record breaking) next time you’re in diasomnia despite flaming your “baby-metal mob” for doing the same thing last week. The boys accidentally finding and WEARING each other’s stuff (Lilia does it on purpose- free is free) (Idia has one sided beef and Ortho restocks his closet anyways. He doesn’t know what belongs there on a good day)

+ This and FWB, Ids needs to become your boyfriend for his confidence and Lilia is a massive swinger no matter how possessive he gets. He has you when he needs to, AND the rush of stealing you away from someone??? You spoil him <3

#twst yuu #twst #disney twst #yuu twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst wonderland #idia shroud #lilia vanrouge

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abbysimsfun · 5 months ago

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Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 46 (Home to Henford)

Everett and Spencer Pancakes had worked hard on their marriage, but they still struggled in Oasis Springs so far from their families.

Then one day, Everett's phone rang. His hometown parish - the 400-year-old church in Henford-on-Bagley where he'd grown up listening to the scripture of the Watcher - needed a new priest. Though their sons were young for such a big move, they jumped at the chance for Greyson and Jett to grow up in their childhood paradise.

They moved in with Spencer's parents, Eric and Alice, at her childhood home in Old New Henford. With Lydia now in Brindleton Bay with the Goths, Spencer's parents had plenty of room for Everett, Spencer, Greyson, and baby Jett - and their dog, JJ, too!

Their first day back, Everett's twin sister, Malia, dropped by to visit and share some happy news. "Jamar and I are expecting!"

Everett knew his sister and her husband, Henford's young, successful doctor, Jamar Scott, had been trying for over a year. "That's fantastic!" Everett beamed, and Malia practiced holding infants by spending the rest of the afternoon entertaining baby Jett.

Spencer's work was primarily in Selvadorada and the only thing that kept her in Oasis Springs was the sun and Everett's old job, but being back with her family again meant everything to her. Not just having her parents, but her older sister Olivia lived with her own family just up the road on Old Mill Hill. Olivia's youngest was close in age to Greyson, and Spencer wanted their families near as they raised their own sons.

"I never realized how much I needed you until we unpacked our bags," Spencer admitted to her mother in the family room, while Jett snuggled with his grandpa Eric on the sofa. "Hopefully now that I'm home I can stop second-guessing everything I do as a mom."

Alice looked at her daughter with a generous smile. "You didn't need to come all the way home for us to know you're a good mother. Your boys love you, and we love them almost as much as I know you do."

Spencer dearly loved her sons, but she worried her ambition was too obvious. That maybe her sons knew she itched to fly to Selvadorada and immerse herself in her work, thousands of miles away from them. The way her sons and her job competed for her time left her overflowing with guilt, but now that she was home, she was more hopeful about the future than she'd been in years.

Everett's grandmothers, Agatha and Agnes Crumpcakes, were getting older. He was glad to be closer to help his father and stepmother take care of them. He felt a responsibility to his family as the eldest of his siblings, even if he was only five minutes older than Malia.

She was going to have a baby, Kash lived in Brindleton Bay with his husband, Wolfgang (Munch!), and Elizabeth was still in high school. Leaving his church and parishioners in Oasis Springs had been difficult, but being home with his family, and at the pulpit of his hometown church, felt like the choice he should have made when he and Spencer married five years earlier.

Everywhere they went they saw familiar faces, and their return began to heal Everett and Spencer's marriage even further.

They were home again, just in time for their dear friend Heather to bring Conrad to Henford to meet her loved ones... ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: The baby is Jett, Heather and Everett's biological child that she delivered as a surrogate. So far he looks like Heather. He even had her hair colour, but I darkened it because I'm already sick of it repeatedly showing up in Neal's descendants.

NOTE 2: Three days without Conrad and today without Heather, I know that's bold strategy, but I wanted this post to stand alone because a) I had to set up why they left the desert before Heather visits, and doing it in the same post was a little too verbose, even for me, b) that gorgeous church build needed to get some featured screen time, and c) we haven't seen Jett since he was born and the pic with his Aunt Malia above is the clearest one I have of him as an infant. Heather and Conrad (and Ash!) are all back tomorrow!

WCIF Henford's Church: Escombe Church in the Sims 4 Gallery by @simstruhistory/TeaWithTash (beautiful build, cc-free, and there's more historical content at their page!) This is a historical recreation of the real Escombe Church in England and I think it's got a perfect Henford vibe. It doesn't actually fit in Henford in my main save but I want to use it again to stage some funerals in the future and maybe weddings, too. I've referenced the 400-year-old church in Henford a couple times but never showed it because it didn't exist (*whispers*I didn't wanna build it) until I saw this one showcased here on simblr!

I'm so, so grateful to creators with build skills, mod skills, CAS skills, all skills, saving me time to do the Sim stuff I really enjoy. 🤗

(Also I'm not a spiritual person, but I have Lumpinou's Rambunctious Religions mod installed because I was playing Ultimate Decades for a while, and just because I'm not religious doesn't mean some of my sims can't be!)

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herefortheships · 4 months ago

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We see Betelgeuse staring at Lydia's photo right after he appeared to her at the school. I like to think Betel stole her picture way back after his first defeat because it'd help him astral project to bother her. Like, as a tool for petty revenge, not for any sentimental or creepy reasons (initially). It'd explain why he never got a more recent picture. It hadn't been about her pretty face, or any other attractive attributes she'd develop later. It just meant to help him focus. And boy, did that backfire.

It's an interesting headcanon, him using the photo as a tool to be able to manifest around her. But to be honest, I believe he never had intentions to pester her or bother her in any way. Not even in the first film when he was more volatile and scarier did he ever try to harm her. When he turned into the snake, all he did was stare at her like he was taken by her, so much so that Barbara used that pause to banish him before he could do something.

He's always treated her different from any other woman from the start. So I believe he took the photo at some point during the events of the first film, and kept it close to him all these years because he was fascinated with Lydia.

We don't know how long he waited at that afterlife waiting room (my headcanon is that he said "screw this" at some point, stood up and left), but assuming he did wait in that room for a good amount of time, like days, or moths (or even a year or more, the number was pretty long), then he had time to reflect on what happened at the Maitland's house. Their time spent together was considerably rushed; they didn't get the opportunity to talk much, but he did have several months around Lydia, to watch her and get a sense of her.

I think he took that photo when he started forming the idea that he was going to propose to her as his ticket "out for good". Not even to get that thing which he presumably wants the most did he ever try to hurt Lydia; with the context of BJBJ now we know he could have just swapped souls with her and taken her life, but he didn't. (Or maybe he doesn't want to be alive; he may just want to be a ghost that can hang out with the living and never go back to the netherworld lol. But he did say "this dead thing is just too creepy", so maybe he does want to get another chance at being alive. I really want to know what exactly will happen to him if he does marry her. But I digress. Even if he knew about the soul swap he would have never tried it, because, again, he would never hurt Lydia.)

During whatever time he spent at that waiting room after the failed wedding attempt, he had that photo with him and would stare at it for comfort. Now I'm getting this headcanon that he started to realize around that time how her presence was actually really comforting, and he started missing her, wanting to see her again in person. Then he went "screw it", left that waiting room, and made up his mind that he was going to find his way back to that strange goth girl again.

Editing to add: Lydia was the only person who treated him with kindness and talked to him like a person in probably hundreds of years. Notice how everyone is afraid of even saying his name once, and those who do call him, do so to ask something of him. When Lydia first talked to him, she didn't exactly do it to seek out to use him for anything; he did offer to help her if she helped him out, but Lydia didn't approach him with fear nor to ask anything out of him. It was likely his only genuine interaction in years. Of course he wanted more of her, and so, at least he kept her photo (but never gave up on seeing her in person again either ��).

#Wait my English grammar was weird there at the end wasn't it?#Beetlebabes #Beetlejuice x Lydia #Betelgeuse #Betelgeuse x Lydia #Beetlejuice Beetlejuice #Betelgeuse's photo of Lydia #Beetlejuice headcanons #BJBJ #Anon #Anons #Anonymous #Anonymous questions #Answers

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bellysoupset · 7 months ago

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Could you do another seizure one with Vince teaching his senior class? Maybe he goes to get up from his desk and drops something which alerts the students that something is wrong right before it happens and one of them rush to get Max. I was thinking it could hit Max in the feels a bit considering he's developing feelings for the guy. Vomit included please.

If you don't want to do a seizure, maybe a faint instead. I was just thinking seizure since he's already had two.

Please!

Hi darling! I know you requested a seizure before, but I tend to avoid those, because in my head they signify something more serious or an underlying condition!

But.... You said fainting is alright? So let's go!

------------

There were new episodes of Wendy's favorite sitcom, so Vince had slept late since they were watching it together at distance. It was well past midnight when his overenergized bunny of a girlfriend started yawning and Vince was out like a lamp not even thirty seconds after they hung up the call.

So it was to no surprise when he slept in. He knew for a fact he had woken up with his alarm, because it showed it had been disabled, but he didn't remember doing it. Whatever, he was so late he had only time to brush his teeth, put some deodorant on and change into the first set of clothing he found.

"Oh, cute, you guys are sharing clothes now?" Sophia said in that mean tone of hers, that caused Vince to reflexive frown. He hadn't had time to eat during morning and was forced to use his lunch to prepare for the other classes - something he should've done the night before - so now he was feeling more than a little queasy.

"What?" Vince glared at her, as the rest of her classmates started to get in and settle in their place.

"Your outfit, pookie," Sophia's smile was huge in her face and Vince glanced down, only then realizing he was wearing Luke's tshirt. It was definitely tighter than one of his would've been and it had a pinup girl on the black fabric, with goth makeup on and holding a cigarette where the smoke turned into a skull.

"Ah," Vince whined, "I didn't have time to check..." how did his sister even know this was Luke's was beyond him, "go sit down."

He had one more class after Soph's and then he could go home and lie in bed until the weird woozy feeling vanished.

They were talking about the World War II and normally Vince would spend half the class doing a presentation on the topic and then spend the rest of it debating, he was proud of having an engaging class, no matter how much the students thought History was boring.

Today, though, he was feeling increasingly dizzy and his mouth kept filling up with bitter, thick saliva that he didn't seem quick enough to swallow, so Vince let go of his pride and put on Jojo Rabbit, a movie he thought they'd enjoy, and asked them to write an essay on it.

"If we don't finish it during the class I'll make it available online and-" he swallowed against the weird pressure in his throat. It wasn't exactly nausea, but it sure as hell wasn't pleasant. There were a bunch of colorful little dots, like glitter, shining over the student's heads, "and you can finish it at home. I want a thousand words on nationalism and how it's displayed in the movie..." this was easy enough, right? Vince rubbed at his temples, trying to string together what else he needed to tell them, "it's due next week-"

"Next week!" A girl cried out, "Mr. Monacelli, there's no time to do it for next week-"

Oh please, Vince frowned, gulping down what now was definitely nausea. He breathed slowly through his mouth, "What do you guys have next week?"

"Trig exam," a boy that Vince actually thought was a great student, Chris, answered, "can't it be for next next week?"

Whatever you guys want, was what Vince thought, but in reality he just nodded stiffly, "alright, but then I don't want anyone not delivering and saying they-" he braced slightly against his desk, "they didn't have the time. We got a deal?"

There was a general murmur of agreement and he sat back down, "Maggie, hit the lights, please?" he requested the girl sitting right next to the light switch, then pressed play in his laptop.

Movie days were the kid's favorite, as they hurdled together in their little cliques and started chuckling along the picture. Vince glanced up, seeing Sophia squeezed between two girls, with her head leaning on the shoulder of one of them. He couldn't care less about them pushing their chairs together and the cuddling, that was not his business.

Vince stared at the little clock in the corner of his desktop, watching the minutes tick away. The A/C wasn't turned on, it was a chilly day, but the classroom was warm with so many people inside of it, yet Vince was easily freezing.

He rubbed his hands together, shoving them in his armpits and leaning back in his chair. Vince was nearly drifting off, when suddenly there was a knock in his door, startling most of his students.

He paused the movie, standing up and immediately regretted it. The whole room turned around him and Vince braced against his desk, taking shallow breaths through his mouth. The room was already dark to begin with, but there were bigger black spots in his vision... He squeezed his eyes shut and gulped down when his stomach flipped, vomit rushing up his throat.

He swallowed convulsively, there was no way he was going to puke in front of his students.

Someone was talking with him, a cacophony of noises and Mr. Monacelli spoken over each other...

Vin's knees gave up and he crumbled down.

He was out for just a minute, because when he opened his eyes again, the classroom was lit up, but his students were still there. Looking at him with huge, scared eyes.

Vin was flat on his back on the ground and he didn't dare moving, his head still felt stuffed with cotton and his mouth had that watery consistency of when he was about to throw up.

"Out, c'mon, everyone out. Go to the chem classroom and don't touch anything before I get there, I'm serious," Max's voice and Vince blinked, trying to find the blonde in the middle of the crowd. Freaking midget.

Slowly the room started to empty out as the teacher shepherd the kids away and Vince was left alone, with only Daniels and-

"What's wrong with you?" Sophia's voice had that whiny tone, as if she was about to cry, "Vin?"

"I'm- I'm okay..." Vince lied, but still didn't move. He wasn't feeling well at all and he knew if he tried to sit up, he was going to throw up on her lap, "go- go to class."

"No! I don't wanna-"

"You heard him, Soph," Max's voice was impossibly gentle, a tone Vince wasn't sure he had heard before, "go to class, I'm going to get him to the infirmary."

"He looks so pale..." Sophia whined, reaching without thinking to cup Vince's face.

He sighed, his sister wasn't the touchy type, so this brief touch meant she was worried as hell. Vince gulped down, "I'm okay, bambi. Go to class."

He only used this nickname with Livia nowadays, had stopped using it with Sophia years ago, but she melted immediately as he said it. She nodded, still pouting.

"I'm telling mamma."

"No, don't do-"

"I'm telling mamma!" Sophia hissed, not leaving any room for him to argue, "and you better really go to the infirmary," happy with her veredict, she got up and stomped out of the room.

No sooner she was out, Max let out a small amused huff, "she's worried."

"She's gonna cause our mother to be hysterical," Vince groaned, accepting Max's outstretched had and slowly sitting up against the wall. He didn't dare standing up, taking measured breaths as his head spun.

"What happened?" Max asked, eyeing him weirdly and Vince gulped down.

He couldn't answer, the nausea from before was catching up quickly and he didn't seem able to swallow quick enough.

"Vince," Max's voice gentle, but firm and a little exasperated, "you're a little green around the gills, are you gonna hurl?"

Vince wanted to say no, but he couldn't. He gave the other man a minimal nod and heard as Max cursed, lurching over Vince in order to grab the paper waste basket under his desk and shoving it in front of the man.

Vin grabbed it, white knuckling the edge and holding it up to his chin, but still fighting valiantly. He let out a little gag and leaned forward, grimacing as he felt Max grabbing his shoulder and holding him up.

He spat the thick saliva inside the bin, panting for air and feeling his head spin... Max pushed his curls back, tsking unhappily under his breath as he asked, "you got a hair tie? Your lion mane is in the way-" he clearly didn't expect an answer, removing his own hair tie in order to pull Vince's hair into a flimsy ponytail.

Vince coughed once more, this time managing to bring up a deep belch that felt like he had been pushed in the stomach, but nothing more. He sighed, lowering the bin slightly, "won't come up."

"Do you even have anything to come up?" Max frowned, moving so he was in front of Vince once more, "I didn't see you in the cafeteria today."

"You were-" Vince breathed in, forcing up another tiny burp, "you were looking?"

Max's concerned expression immediately turned into a frown, his whole face turning red, "No, I just paid attenti-"

"Relax," Vin interrupted him, closing his eyes and breathing in and out measuredly, "I'm just messing with you," he opened his eyes once more and forced a small smile, "can you help me to the infirmary?" he didn't like that he needed help, but Vince was being realistic. Even sitting down it still felt like the room was spinning.

"Yeah, of course-" Max wrapped an arm around his waist and Vince threw an arm around his shoulder, but the blonde let out a grunt as he pulled them both up, "fuuck you're heavy-"

"Muscle... Muscle is heavy," Vince stumbled, nearly falling and slumping against the blonde. They both wavered, but Max dug his heels, keeping him upright.

"It's like holding up a fridge," Max scoffed under his breath, causing Vin to smile.

Slowly they made their track down the hallway to the infirmary and the deja vú was not lost on Vince. He would've been more amused by it if the black spots weren't back and he wasn't struggling to put a foot in front of the other.

"Vince," Max patted his cheek lightly, "Monacelli, hey, look at me. Vince!"

Vin frowned, blinking a bunch of times to situate himself. He was now standing right in front of the infirmary's door, still held up by Daniels only.

"Why did we stop?"

"Your knees were buckling, you were going out on me," Daniels was glaring at him and Vince let out a chuckle as the expression reminded him of Jonah. The blonde's chocolate eyes squinted at him, "what's funny?"

"Nothing," Vince rubbed his face, trying to stand up straight, "you remind me of one of my friends, that's all."

"Uhm," Max didn't look convinced, but he shrugged after a minute, "a handsome friend?" he kept a hand on Vince's shoulder, while stretching out to knock on the infirmary door with the other one.

"Oh yeah, total pretty boy," Vince answered, leaning back against the lockers and breathing slowly as his head swam.

The next thing he knew, the school nurse was fussing over him and Max was complaining about his size once more, as they stumbled inside the small room and Vince was forced to crawl on the stretcher that was frankly ridiculously small for him.

"You look like a moose lying in a doll crib," Max voiced exactly what Vince was thinking, since his feet were dangling out of the stretcher and Vince had heard very clearly the thing creak under his weight, "you're sure this thing is not gonna crumble under him, Doyle?"

Mrs. Doyle looked horribly offended at Max's nonchalant address of her. She wrinkled her nose, in distaste and Vince buried his face in the flimsy, barely there, pillow, as he heard the woman say, "it can handle big people, Mr. Daniels. Don't you have anywhere to be? Vincenzo, who should I call?"

No one, Vince thought, letting out a groan. His mother would freak out and he wasn't sure he could deal with her energy at the moment. His dad was probably at work right now.

"I'll drive him, I just need to wrap up my class," Max's tone was gleeful and Vince opened an eye to look at him. The blonde was smiling smugly as he walked to the stretcher, "just how fast the tables turn, uh?" he crouched down to be at Vince's eye level, "I think Doyle just called you fat."

"I'm not fat, I'm big," Vince glared at him, "and fluffy."

Max's nostrils flared as he breathed in, amused, and patted Vin's arm, "yeah yeah, big and fluffy. Don't go anywhere, I'll come collect you in half an hour."

"Okay..." Vince closed his eyes once more and let out a small moan as it felt like the stretcher was going from one side to the other, like a hammock. The movement was starting to make him motion sick, but before the nausea could make itself known, he drifted off once more.

#i think this needs a part 2 but it was pretty long already so i'm wrapping it up here #vince monacelli #mywriting #sickfic #fainting #vertigo #I'll include the puke in part 2!

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medusasea · 6 months ago

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South Park Younger Siblings

South Park creators, you have Ike from the very first episode, you give him tons of development and scenes and even make him unrealistically badass for his age.

Well done! Ike rocks.

You also had plans in Starvin Marvin to give Kenny a sister, but you decided not to, only to add her many years later after all, even though her existence doesn't make sense. Now, the South Park timeline doesn't make sense, but since the other children barely aged, it looks like Karen popped out into existence, since she is 6 years old. To be fair, the show sort of has selective continuity. It's not like Avatar The Last Airbender, where such a decision would be horrendous. I still would've been more invested in Karen if she was from the beginning or at least if her existence didn't break story rules, but if you write her well I can forgive it.

What is Karen's role in the show? Kenny saves her and takes care of her. Sure, she is nice, but she didn't really help anyone or herself either, not on-screen at least.

She barely even showed personality traits. We know she is shy, sensitive, naive and does not like conflict. She is close to her mom and brother Kenny. She likes dolls. In the fractured but whole we learn she doesn't often get to socialize with others besides Kenny and thus she joined the vampire kids only to later realize how fucking lame they were and to join the Goth kids. Later she is no longer a goth with no explanation and no further character development. The show does not even use her in the Karen episode, but it makes Randy a Karen.

South Park creators, if you just wanted someone Kenny takes care of, he was already helpful and even heroic towards both his friends and strangers. Spoiler: He was even willing to die forever for his friends in the Coon trilogy. Did you plan for Karen to just be someone who Kenny takes care of even in Starvin Marvin, where you decided not to add her? You are capable of giving Ike tons of development, what is stopping you from giving Karen a little more development and importance?

Karen is barely more than a damsel in distress. The damsel in distress trope is not inherently bad, I only hate it when a competent character does something extremely stupid just so that they can become one or when the character in question has little to no personality and agency and is more a plot device than a character. About the latter, when I say the character needs agency, I am not saying they need to save themselves or others, but they should show skills or at least attempt to do something, otherwise they come across as unbelievably weak. The only exception where I don't care about this is if the characters overall don't get much development, like most old fairy tales or certain video games where the gameplay is more important than the story or characters. However, this is not the case with South Park. I used the term damsel in distress, but this can apply to any character regardless of gender, though it is more prevalent for female characters, in older stories at least. While South Park often underuses female characters in my opinion, it also underuses plenty of male ones too and most female characters have a fair share of development and agency even if I think they don't appear as often as they should. However, I can't help but find it fishy that out of the main characters' younger siblings the girl is reduced to a damsel in distress while the boy gets tons of development and relevance. It was probably not intentional, but it reminds me of the sexist world view of women being inferior to me and needing constant protection.

#south park #karen mccormick #south park critical #pajamas #they wasted Karen Mccormick #Karen #karen #karen deserved better #ike broflovski #ike

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silviakundera · 7 months ago

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Snowfall ep watch comments 13-15

Keeping it real with his nickname, Loser Li doesn't have the balls to join Team Vamp

Sorry dude, this would never happen to Elena Gilbert

Fun ass escape & fight scenes as our trio trash the train and escape in a field. The search in the field of tall grass as night closes in feels very 80s-00s vampire movie

Once AGAIN Loser Li punks out. This guy 😂😭 I love his constant, unrelenting failure

Look, the way Doctor Bestie realized he had to step up, because Mi Lan was injured & his bro distracted. TIME & PLACE, thank you.

He got close to making it thru this adventure without exposing himself but finally it was clear poor Vamp Daddy couldn't handle this one his own.

I both kinda do feel for Vamp Daddy's angst about his brother in disguise but also I'm too attached to them, so I'm just impatient for him to get over it and accept his only existing (and only mildly evil!!) relative

The brown leather coat is just not as suave a look for Loser Li. Return to your roots!

Oh good.

Henchman makes potentially his only smart move in the drama, to come plead for nep baby to rescue his crush. Li Yingliang looovesssss you! so muchhhhhh! it's ALL FOR YOU.

Our unhinged, unstable cyclone of insecurity & homosexuality emerges from the dungeon to fail another day! Good job, everyone.

"What ill intentions could a young boy in his hundreds have?" lol I love mysterious old guy

Sorry I'm unreasonably & unfairly on Doctor Bestie's side - kick his ass and settle him down. Vampires gotta stick together.

So doc is "complete" and Vamp Daddy, though made with the Blood Amber Stone, isn't? 🤔 Interesting. (ok not really lol, I'm not a 'lore' person)

Doctor Bestie cracked me up with his whole, I know all about equality in the modern age! I went to university! Look, he's probably more than a il evil but I like him SO MUCH, so can you just relent Vamp Daddy?

Otherwise WE might stop being friends. And that would be sad :(

All jokes aside, I do have the lingering feeling that Li Yingliang is being written as queer and the actor is playing it that way. Look at the way he is with his henchman too! It's just.... not like the vibe we see among other similar characters. They've fucked. More than once. And henchman told himself it's all fine between 'lonely' 1930s men, because they'll eventually take wives.

idk Vamp Daddy, I would have accepted the help of mysterious ancient master guy against a pursuing ARMY.

or maybe not kicked out my powerful brother.

Mi Lan knows what's up: stop the navel gazing emo and just get warm, eat well, and spend time with your loved ones.

Flashback to aftermath of Shen mansion massacre. Awful times had by all. Nobody thought burning alive a supernatural mom and her small child might have consequences. They did. Shen patriarch is like whyyyyy. His almost barbecued wife: r u 4 real?

Similarly, in modern remains of Shen mansion a bunch of people ambush Vamp Daddy and his gf, shoot her in the chest, so he goes murdery.

Then vamps her! YAY 🙌

Now you and doctor bestie just need to make up and find a way to extend your life too.

All hail Mi Lan's vampire awakening. Good stuff. Love the goth attire.

Also absolutely adorable and glowing in the bath

This is like Caroline in The Vampire Diaries, who was simply born to be a vampire and took to it like a duck to water. I want her to hang out more with the doctor. They can enjoy vampirism together.

Now that Vamp Daddy has healed Barely Legal Girlfriend, can we get (1) one more bloody kiss? Pretty pretty please? 🙏🙏🙏

Everyone but his henchman bf is hella pissed at Loser Li for being incapable.

This does not seem fair, as it's his defining quality 🤔

#cdrama #snowfall #silvia watches #snowfall spoilers

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spgothkidsheadcanons · 2 years ago

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More Facts About the Goths!

Henrietta:

- Her favorite season is actually Spring!

- She’s in tune with nature, and seeing all the leaves on the trees grow back and the animals that become more plentiful just makes her so incredibly happy

- She doesn’t like animals of her own, but if her S/O says something about wanting a pet, she’s got a bad habit of giving in and getting a pet to make S/O happy

- Speaking of her S/O, Henrietta is a very devoted and loyal person

- When she loves, she loves hard, and she hates to be taken advantage of or have her heart broken

- When she’s sketching up designs for clothes and gets bored, she begs her S/O to let her draw on them

- It’s soothing to Henri and opens up bonding time with her lover

- She hates to be called anything other than Henrietta, but her S/O has all permission to call her Henri, Etta, Baby Girl, Darling

- She’s a big fan of her S/O

- Probably that girlfriend who gets a t-shirt with S/O’s face in it

- And gets S/O one with her face on it

- She enjoys walks. Down the road, up and down the beach (only at night), hell, even the walk to her car

- Owns a 2 bedroom apartment

- Drives a purple Lexus 450h she named Bettie

- Likes to write and will spend all day writing in her journal, writing in a notepad, on sticky notes

- Her penmanship is very beautiful. Small, cursive letters that lean a little to the right

- Her birthday is November 13th, and she’s a Scorpio

- She’s 5’5, and 5’10 when she’s wearing her signature heels

- Henrietta is very in tune with her S/O, she’d bend herself over backwards to please them

- Cuddly

- So fucking cuddly

- She’ll share a bottle of wine with her S/O and then tuck herself right into their side

- Has to be touching S/O every chance that she has

- Has days where she goes silent, but she always bounces back

- Is in college for fashion design, models as a side gig to help pay through college

- Very good girl and I love her so much I would fight the sun to make her happy

- (26)

Pete:

- Pete had heterochromia, but it’s just a patch of green on one of his brown irises

- He had braces late in highschool, and now just has the permanent retainer on the backside of his teeth

- He’s more often than not hunched over, but he just doesn’t realize it, so he has a few back problems

- Likes to lay on the floor in his room because it helps with his back pain but also because he just wants to

- Stargazes almost every night

- Is really into space, reads facts about space, horror stories about astronauts hearing knocking on the rocket’s exterior, knows every single constellation and planet and their moons

- Incredibly smart, made all 100’s in school and almost got a perfect SAT score (1560 out of 1600)

- Pete has ADHD, and he can barely keep still if he’s just hanging around and not doing anything

- His birthday is 4/20 (HAPPY BIRTHDAY PETE BABY ILYSM) and he’s a Taurus

- He’s 5’10, and kind of self concious he didn’t hit at least 6’

- He lives with his uncle, but his uncle is almost always gone on business trips

- His uncle is his best friend, they do almost everything together when Unc’s in town

- He likes to cook and bake, and he’s always whipping something up in the kitchen for his S/O

- Always painting, anything and everything he can think of

- Prefers to paint his S/O, he’s obsessed with them and wants to memorize every dimple, freckle and curve of their form

- Likes when his S/O does his hair, does his skin care, or when his S/O just does anything with him

- He’s not the type to be all up in his S/O’s business, but he does like hearing from them once a day at least

- Owns a PT Cruiser he’s had since we was in highschool

- He calls it “Miranda”, after a long inside joke from when all the goths hung out together

- Likes decorating with stickers, and you can normallly find stickers on his car, on his laptop, one his phone and on his Emotional Support Water Bottle ™️

- Likes to cook and help run the food shelter

- BLEEDING HEART. EMOTIONAL BABY BOY. IF S/O CRIES, HE CRIES, IF S/O MAD, HE MAD

- In tune with his emotions, and believes it’s very healthy to share how you’re feeling

- Unironically listens to 2000’s club music. His favorite is Wobble by V.I.C

- Writes poetry, and does so extremely beautifully

- He’s a nerd I love him so much he’s my little baby doll

Michael:

- Kind of an asshole, but more in the endearing way and not in the jerk way

- Michael has moments where he forgets what he’s doing and he ends up just sitting down and not doing the original task

- Has definitely ruined dinner quite a few times because of his forgetfulness

- He likes knitting, something that he picked up in highschool and perfected a few years later

- He’s always singing, making a beat, or writing down things he thinks would be good lyrics

- When he’s busy with a recording session, he will stay at the studio for hours on end until everything he and his bandmates do is just right

- Back to being an endearing jerk, his S/O is always bullied by him just so Michael can make them feel better by kissing them and giving them everything they want tenfold

- Sends flowers to his S/O’s job, or really, wherever S/O is

- Kind of possessive, not in the “Oh no” way, but in the “Okay, that’s hot” way

- He’s 6’7, and loves leaning on his S/O because he’s a shithead who thinks it’s funny to just prop up on people shorter than him

- His birthday is April 21st, which he is so excited about because that’s Robert Smith’s birthday, and that makes him a Taurus

- Speaking of, he really is as stubborn as a damn bull sometimes

- If S/O wants to do something, they have to practically beg on their knees for Michael to go and do that thing with them

- Sometimes, S/O debates whether Michael really is stubborn or he just takes pleasure in seeing them beg

- DATE NIGHTS DATE NIGHTS DATE NIGHTS DATE NIGHTS Michael’s guilty pleasure is spoiling his S/O and he never takes no for an answer when he asks if you’d like to go out with him

- Owns a black 1990 Cadillac Brougham

- He’s a really big fan of vintage cars, he just thinks they’re so unique and they looked better before the 2000’s

- Big sweet tooth, and is constantly eating something sweet

- Owns a hairless cat named Boo that he likes to dress up

- Has a secret want to own all kinds of hairless mammals, he just thinks they’re so cute

- Has scary dog vibes, but he’s honestly more like an edgy golden retriever

- Likes to pick on his S/O, just so he has an excuse to hold them in his arms and smother them with love and affection

- He’s never actually mean to his lover, but if he’s mad, he does prefer to stay away from them until he calms down

- Michael’s got some issues he needs to work on, but all he needs is a healthy support system and he’ll be good

- Would never forgive himself if he did something that actually upset you

- He’s a butthead but a sweet butthead and he deserves everything in the world I love this man

#sp goth kids #south park goth kids #sp michael #sp henrietta #sp pete #south park michael #south park henrietta #south park henrietta biggle #sp henrietta biggle #south park pete #south park pete thelman #sp pete thelman #sp pete x reader #south park pete x reader #sp henrietta x reader #south park henrietta x reader

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justevelynnnn · 1 year ago

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Armin if he was 🖤Goth🖤

Notes: Got this cool idea in my head abt a grown up version of asot armin 🤔 (it’s really cause i saw these pictures on pinterest tho) if u don’t know what asot is it stands for A slap on titan which is parody type series on youtube. 👍🏾👍🏾 but sorry if this isn’t quite accurate to what being goth is like i’m honestly still in my baby’s bat phase so i don’t know much 😭😭

Context: Modern Asot!Armin x Fem Goth!reader

Warnings: mention of ritual attempts but that’s it

- You first saw him in middle school on the first day of 8th grade. This new blond kid just transferred in and everyone was excited to meet him!

- Well that didn’t last long.

- While you weren’t present but apparently he started spewing crazy things and started talking to himself (or a cat, everyones stories was different) and while he did good in class teachers didn’t appreciate his out bursts.

- People were QUICKLY frightened and bothered by him. He had no friends.

- You were dipping your toes into the whole gothic subculture yourself at the time but you weren’t too interested. However it seemed this new kid was in love with the whole thing. He wore all black all the time, sometimes a bit of eyeliner. He had the whole vibe to him.

- So something about him interested you.

- However, before you got the chance to go up to him, he ended up getting expelled and put in a mental hospital for attempting to perform a ritual on a 6th grader? Yikes.

- He made the news and that’s when you learned his name. Armin…

- As the years went by you slowly forgot about him. But how could you fully? He was your craziest story to tell to friends. A funny and wacky memory to reflect on.

- Now you are in your 2nd year of college. You have decided while you aren’t fully goth(at least you thought) you liked the idea and did get into some of the music and fashion but you stuck to causal clothes most days. And you never got into the heavy makeup you see most goths wear. You learned it’s more about the music anyways which helped.

- You had a slight fascination with darker things and had to constantly tell people you aren’t depressed even if you looked the part.

- One day, while in the library looking for an Edgar Allen Poe book for your book report you accidentally bumped into a slightly taller boy.

- “Sorry! My bad-“

- You realized as you looked at his face…well, did you realize? Is this him?

- “It’s fine.” The boy quietly replied.

- Oh.

- He had blond hair…blue eyes… this could be any white boy honestly. Plus his hair was shorter? And he looked more….put together? He wore a plain brown suit get up with polished brown loafers.

- “Is something the matter?” He asked looking at you.

-“Sorry…i’m sorry you just look.. familiar?” You say squinting your eyes slightly but you realized you might be acting weird so you start to go around him after apologizing again.

- However, before you can…

- “Let me guess. You remembered the crazy, sadistic boy from your childhood and i look like him.” He says stopping you.

- You slowly nod.

- “Yeah, well, it was me.” He looked away for a second. Possibly embarrassed?

- “Armin? Well, you clean up..nice…” You say taking in his appearance once again.

- “Well, a few years of a mental hospital and therapy can do that….” He chuckled. “I see you’re looking for an Edgar allen book too?”

- “Yeah…we get to choose and author and analyze their writing style for my English 2020 class….” You say looking at the shelf.

- “Mhm…I did that last year.”

- “Can i ask what happened to you?” You say abruptly.

- “Y’know…I’d rather talk about that over some coffee.” Armin says laughing once again. “If you don’t mind?”

- This Armin was a now refined gentleman. He leads you to a small coffee shop on campus after helping you pick a book. He even holds the door open for you. From what you remember he used to spit at girls, asking them bizarre personal questions, now he’s holding open doors and pulling your chair out.

- After you two get coffee he tells you everything.

-“So after the therapy and being in a crazy house for years they finally broke me. I started talking about my feelings and whatever and how my when my parents died i lost it and my grandpa wasn’t paying attention to me and blah blah blah. And i guess it was just a phase…well not fully.”

- “How so?” You say sipping on the coffee you got.

- “Well, i may not look it, but i consider my self to be a bit…how do you say..gothic?” He smirks.

- “Yeah i never would’ve guessed. You look more dark academia like.”

- “I don’t dress in all black all the time, you know it’s more about- “

- “The music?” You interrupt.

- Armin smiles. “Yes. Exactly. How did you know? Unless…”

- You smile a bit while nodding your head. Well here’s finally someone you can be yourself around! Everyone else either thought you were weird or a poser. Most just ignored you.

- After that day you and Armin start hanging out. He shows you his room which had many gothic band posters on them like Sisters of mercy posters and Siouxsie and the banshees posters and other plain ones with just bats on them. His room was a bit dark also being mostly black and gray and brown.

- You two loves making goth like inside jokes or thrifting for new accessories or even weird things.

- Armin liked to collect really weird things like taxidermies bugs and mini skulls or halloween themed things.

- He was also a night owl but he had to be awake in the day too so he did end up having slight eyebags and a constant yawn.

- He was really serious about looking presentable though. So as a result he normally just drink a dark coffee everyday. You tried it once and immediately spit it out. “This is so BITTER!?” You say in disgust.

- “Like pure caffeine.” He says taking his cup back and smiling.

- Sometimes you’d two match outfits or at least tried to coordinate them.

- People started to think you two were dating at one point. You never thought of Armin like that but the idea didn’t hurt…

- Sometimes armin tells stories from his past. Explaining how he thought he was a “crimson king” for a while or how he’d sacrifice animals like squirrels. He seems horrified with his old self but not horrified to the point where he can’t laugh about it.

- He was your favorite gothic person now honestly🖤🖤

#aot x reader #armin imagines #aot armin #armin attack on titan #asot #asot armin #gothic #x goth reader #goth armin #armin x goth reader

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chronically-ghosted · 2 years ago

Text

title: you may be dead, but i’m still pretty

rating: explicit, 18+

pairing: max phillips x f!reader

word count: ~5700

summary: it’s Max’s birthday so you agree to indulge him with one of his biggest and most well-hidden fantasies: Buffy Summers. (AKA the one where you dress up as a slutty cheerleader with a stake and completely own his ass)

warnings/tags: i feel like i should send sarah michelle gellar an apology letter for this, BSDM dynamics, tying up, edging, orgasm denial, blow jobs, brief use of plugs, oral (f and m receiving), piv sex, SMUT, no use of y/n, no reader descriptions other than hair long enough to put into pigtails, max dressed as the dollar store general version of Spike (and satisfies the little goth freak inside of me), dare i tag this as btvs or should i more accurately tag it as Boofay the Vampire Layer, as you can see i had way too much fun with this

a/n: from @heareball ‘s request from my 100 followers celebration: 24. A whispered, “Fuck, can we do that again?” against the other’s lips.” with our boy Max Phillips? smutty? (your original ask got deleted! i'm so sorry 😔)

🤍Masterlist

The doorknob to the front door of the luxurious apartment rattled as someone on the other side struggled with the keys in the lock. With a squeak, the door opened and a woman stumbled through. With seemingly no one else home, you frown, confused by the darkness and the seemingly empty apartment.

“Mom? Dawn? I’m home from cheer practice. Isn’t it supposed to be pizza night?”

No one answered you, the shadows empty and looming. Slightly more worried now, you slip your backpack off one shoulder, your hand sliding into one of the pockets.

“Ha, ha, very funny, guys, but it’s not my birthday. You can come out now. But feel free to leave out the presents and cake.”

You sneak around to the living room, your hand wrapped firmly around your trusty weapon in your backpack, your pigtails twitching back and forth as you peer into the gloom. Nothing moves, but the shadows feel closer, heavier, darker. You pause, wait, listening, anticipating –

Something moves in the far corner of the room and then strong arms snatch you up around your elbows. You squeak, surprised and a little pissed he managed to sneak up on you, as a long, warm tongue licks up the side of your neck, fangs pinching at your earlobe.

“Slayer,” the shadow hisses, “finally, she came out to play." Oh, no, you trained for this. For six whole weeks at the Y just for this one goddamn move.

You plant your feet just like you were taught, twisting your body in his arms to readjust his weight and you spin, throwing him over your shoulder and onto his back on the ground. Hardly giving him time to shake off the shock, you snatch up your backpack and pounce on his chest.

Wide eyes stare up at you from beneath thick black eyeliner. Dark hair slicked back, with at least one fake silver stud in his ear, the vampire watches you with surprise and obvious arousal. Hands with black nail polish hover above your thighs, itching to sink down into your plush flesh. If he thought that was a surprise, just wait until –

You pull a stake out from your backpack and hold it above his chest.

Behind your ass, his cock jumps awake. You suppress a giggle and force your mouth into a teasing smirk. You press the tip right into his chest and the styrofoam cracks. The vampire breathes sharply through his nose when he realizes you’re not wearing a bra beneath your “Middleton High” cheerleader’s uniform.

“What do you have to say for yourself? For a creature of the night, you’re kinda lame.”

Grinning, his hands drop against your thighs, thumb slipping under the edge of the white stocking under your knee, the black shirt around his chest tight and far too complimentary of his biceps.

“And you’re just a cheerleader. Tell me, are these stockings standard regulation?”

You shift your weight, pressing into him with your hips and the fake stake, your other hand on his chest, exactly where you put it when you ride him. His mouth drops open slightly when he feels your wet underwear through his shirt, his eyes fluttering.

“I only hunt naughty vampires,” you coo. “Are you going to behave?”

Brown eyes slipping into a heated blackness as he squirms beneath you, two fangs descend from his upper row of teeth, his tongue licking them teasingly. God, he knows exactly what the sight of him like that does to you.

“Depends on what you make me do.”

You smirk and roll your hips once – he groans. “I’m going to make you be very, very naughty.”

You slide back, out of the reach of his outstretched hands, still pointing that stake at him, and beckon him towards you. He eagerly pushes himself up, revealing that tight torso to the moonlight. You catch a glimpse of his tight black jeans for the first time all night and your mouth waters. You can definitely see the hot outline of his cock, bulging against the seam of his pants. Why didn’t you do this earlier?

You swallow and catch his gaze again. He’s smirking, glancing down to where you were so shamelessly staring. Flushed slightly, you push him down the hall as if walking a purp back to the holding cell. He even stumbles with his hands up in surrender. You take him by the shoulder and shove him into the bedroom.

“You’re kind of strong for someone of your size,” he says as he tumbles into the room.

“Cheerleading is harder than it looks.” His tongue runs the length of his bottom lip as he watches you in a comically small skirt slink towards him. “Kneel for me.”

He drops to his knees without hesitation, his broad shoulders tight with anticipation. You tuck the tip of the stake under his chin, tilting his head up to look you in the eye.

“Being a hot cheerleader takes a lot out of me.” You prop the sole of your sneaker up against his shoulder, giving him a perfect view of your black lace underwear. His eyes flicker between your crotch and your face. “Take off my shoes for me.”

His breathing hitches as he delicately takes the back of your ankle, the heat from his fingers warm even through the stocking, as he uses his deft fingers on the other hand to pluck your laces free.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Ma’am is my mother.” You cock your head. “Try again.”

“Yes, Slayer.” He nuzzles your shin as he slowly slips the sneaker off your foot, still delicately holding your ankle as if it is precious glass. Looking up at you for permission to continue, his eyelashes thick and heavy, he slowly lowers your foot to the ground, but his hand stays at your heel. Before you can stop him, his hand skitters up and squeezes the back of your thigh, so you press your other knee against his throat and he chokes.

“That’s one,” you warn. He nods, swallowing, and you shift to put your other sneaker against his shoulder.

“One what, Slayer?” His hands are barely trembling as he unties your laces, tosses your sneaker to the ground. You know he can smell your wetness leaking out onto your panties. His already dark eyes flash with unrestrained want, trying to see where your slick stains your crotch.

“One time you don’t get to come.”

His eyes leap from under your skirt up to your face, his mouth slack and desire hot across his face and you nearly give up the game right then – tackle him to the ground and shove your tongue down his throat. But, no, this is what he asked for so you’re going to give it to him. You breathe, trying to steady your own unbalanced nerves, and he sets a warm palm on your knee.

It’s your boyfriend in his eyes, not some horny creature of the night, asking are you okay? Do you want to keep going? Despite giving him everything he wants, he would drop this scene in an instant if you were uncomfortable in any way.

You quell the adoration expanding in your chest with an inhale, drop the stake, and you set your shoulders back. You twist your ankle around the back of his neck and flex.

“Come here.” Desire overwhelms his face again, jaw tightening, eyes widening to black as he shuffles forward, careful to keep your leg balanced over his shoulder.

“Can I touch you, Slayer?” He breathes, voice low and wrecked, hands twitching. Your knee bends over his shoulder, your heel pressing into his back.

You nod, chest stuttering, his warm breath against your hot inner thigh sending arousal licking up your spine. You nod again and his hand cups the back of your thigh, the curve of your ass, his fingers cradling your opposite knee to steady you. He squeezes just below your ass and you groan.

“I want my panties drenched. You figure out how to do that.”

A heavy noise from his chest, and he ducks his head beneath your pleated skirt. His fingers pull aside the crotch of your panties and that first lick has you both groaning. He cups your ass again, pushing you into his face and sending your leg further over his shoulder. You might have stumbled, your knee already weak, had it not been for his hands gripping you, clutching you to his mouth.

He tilts your hips up, holds your pelvis like a bowl, and eats.

He sucks one lip into his mouth, and then the other, tonguing your flesh as if it needed to be wetter. He dips his chin, licking from your clenching hole up to your clit, groaning praises around the drops of slick that cling to his lips. Tongue firm and steady, he fucks you with it, the curve of his nose pressing against your clit. Heat blooms, pulsates with every plunge of his tongue, your cunt fluttering around him, and it rockets up your spine, yanking your head back.

“Oh, Jesus – fuck,” your nails dig into his shoulder, his name just in the back of your throat, and the vibration in his chest that you feel against your wet thigh has your knee buckling. With a growl that reverberates up into your cervix, he clutches you tighter, tongue painting you with your own slick even faster. He tucks your clit up into his mouth and sucks – hard.

Your orgasm that detonates in your core is unexpected, strong, and completely knocks you off balance. Entirely dependent on him to keep you upright, you hold him against you, his satisfied licks carrying you through it, teasing aftershocks, and he drinks the splash that bursts out of you with reckless abandon.

Oh, that bastard is gonna get it . . .

Knees trembling, you pull back, nails wrapped around his hair to drag his head away from your cunt. He growls, displeased, but you manage to wedge your knee against his chest, pushing him farther back with your shin, then your foot.

He looks manic. Slicked hair completely undone, mouth, nose, cheeks shiny with your release, his eyes were blacker than ever. He licks the corner of his lips, focus still entirely attached to your leaking pussy, and his fangs dig into his bottom lip, seemingly without his control.

“Is that wet enough for you?”

You use the sternest voice you can muster, almost annoyed at how easily he can pull you apart: “Take your shirt off.”

He does so without question, without hesitation, eyes catching every heavy breath, every pulse of your heart – he sees the wetness on the edge of one of your stockings and you watch as his cock twitches.

“What next, Slayer?” It’s intimate, the way he says it, the way it purrs in his mouth. You kind of wish he had gone with the British accent he had been considering, but listening to him beg you just as he is, has your pulse rocketing again.

In the dim light, he’s all dark shadows and cut muscle. Shirtless, breathing heavy, black jeans slung low on his hips, he could not look farther from the man you know, the man you love, but he’s still there. Still drives you fucking crazy.

In two steps, you capture his mouth with yours, your fingers twisting into his short hair at the cup of his skull as you pull him down into you. His groan is different, relieved, instead of possessive, coming from his ribs instead of his groin. Mouth open, he widens the gap between your lips with the press of his tongue and you taste your own salty, sweet release as his mouth overtakes yours. He kisses your bottom lip, nips at your top lip, and his hands squeeze your ass.

Your name nearly slips out as he dips his head back, eyelids heavy, but he corrects himself.

“S-slayer, please, can I fuck you now?”

You shake your head, your confidence growing again, and push him until he hits the edge of the bed and drops on top of it.

“Oh, no, I’m not nearly done with you. Hold out your wrists.”

His arms shake slightly as he holds them out to you, his eyes full of desperation and want. You tsk, frowning.

“It seems I’ve forgotten my super powerful vampire restraints.” You tap the corner of your mouth. He wriggles. “I guess we’ll have to use something else.”

His jaw drops as you turn around and bend forward, that pathetic excuse for a skirt barely covering the curve of your ass, giving him full view of your dripping wet pussy, as you slide your soaked panties over your hips and down to the floor. Over your shoulder, he looks totally dumbstruck, chest flushed, unable to tear his eyes away as you step out of your panties. His eyeliner is slightly smudged and your cunt clenches.

He swallows, mouth wet, as you saunter over and poke him in the knee with your toe.

“All the way back. To the headboard.”

He scrambles back, still holding his wrists together even though you hadn’t actually tied him up with anything yet. He was always so good at taking directions like this.

You put your panties in your mouth, freeing your hands as you slink up the bed, over his heaving chest. As though tied by string, he follows as you take your panties out of your mouth, loop them around his wrists and firmly secure them to the headboard. It’s laughable, the idea that your wet underwear would actually keep him from moving, his actual vampire strength more than enough to shred them in an instant (as he has done on many occasion), but he settles against the pillows, a red blush emerging behind the brush of hair under his belly button, leading down and disappearing beneath the waistband of his pants.

He won’t last long, already like this.

You slide back, your exposed cunt barely touching his skin as you shuffle down, thighs spread over his. For all his bluster and showmanship, he really is so fucking pretty when you get down to it. You drag your three fingers down from his collarbone, digging in with your nails around his nipple and eliciting a short breath, continuing lazily down his stomach, to that maddening patch of hair. You think you can smell sex on him so you dip forward and inhale.

He loudly whines, eyes squeezing shut, stomach twitching against your hot breath.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby – S-s-slayer – please, please o-open my jeans.”

You tongue him once, he shudders, and you pop the button on his jeans. The sound of the zipper is loud, daunting, ratchets up the pulse in your chest, in your cunt. You’re going to soak him through his jeans at this rate, and he’d thank you for it.

“Please take me out. I want you to touch me.”

You tilt your head, watching as he squirms beneath you, his knuckles white from how hard he clenches his fists. You’ll kiss him later and thank him for trusting you with something like this, but for now, you’re going to keep teasing him.

He whimpers as you lean away from him, back towards his feet. You watch him go a bit red as you smirk over your shoulder at him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you need something?”

He doesn’t know how to ask for it, and knowing if he does, it’ll cost him. His gaze flickers to your chest.

You shrug. “I guess you’ve been good enough for this, little vampire.”

With practiced ease, you slip the cheerleader uniform top over your head, your tits bouncing as they’re released from the tight confines. You watch him bite his bottom lip, eager and desperate to put his lips around your nipple, but that will come later.

“Better?”

He shifts, hips thrusting against his zipper for some relief, and nods. You lean back again, smirking, and untie his big heavy black boots. You’re dying to ask him where the hell he got this costume, but you have to stifle your own curiosity for his sake. Making sure your ass is in full view, you yank off his boot, and then the other. They thump loudly to the floor and you lick the soft place under his ankle, pulling a groan from his throat.

Now only in your skirt and stockings, you crawl back up his long legs and situate yourself in the cradle of his pelvis. He swallows, his mouth flushed with sweat, his arms tight and flexing around his head. You’d thought up a dozen scenarios when you got to this point, things you wanted to try out, toys to play with hidden in your backpack, but just having him beneath you, you knew exactly what you wanted.

“Where are my friends?” You growl at him. “My mother, my sister – what have you done with them?” He blinks up at you in confusion for a moment, before pulling his bottom lip into his mouth with his tongue.

“I’ll never tell you, Slayer,” he snarls with a flash of fangs. You wonder if he’ll pull full Vamp Face tonight after all the teasing. Your cunt clenches at the thought.

You tsk. “That’s two.”

You shuffle down his slim hips, fingers wrapping around the waistband of his skinny jeans, and tug as you go. He eagerly lifts his hips as you pull, harder than normal. How he fucking poured himself into these things, you’ll never know.

Like a true badass, he’s not wearing any underwear, the teeth of his zipper leaving red marks on his groin, and his cock, so hard for so long, springs out. He is unfortunately very good at getting you to babble mindlessly during sex, his strict questions baring no room for argument.

Whose cunt is this? Yours. Always yours.

Who fucks you the best? You, you, you.

How do you like my cock, splitting you open? I love it. God, I fucking love it. It’s such a pretty cock.

You babble, but never lie. Flushed, thick, long, he does and always has had a gorgeous cock, as far as cocks go. Or maybe it’s just how it makes you feel, tapping against your g-spot, that makes your mouth water with adoration.

“I have ways of making you talk,” you say gruffly, palming the leaking precum around his head and using it to pump him once. His eyes roll back in his head, his biceps flexing with restraint. But, admirably, he holds out.

“I-I’m not afraid of you, S-slayer,” he mutters breathlessly. That sort of arrogance, cock-assuredness, it made you wet the first time you met him, and it still does. You grind against his thigh, but it’s not enough. You lift your palm from him and spit into the cup of your hand. His eyes track the string of spit as it falls from your lips, as you turn your cupped hand over and take him by the base of his cock. You drag your hand up, feeling every ridge, every throb of his vein, as you twist your wrist, thumbing the head of his cock. Precum leaks more and his cock flushes darker.

“You still don’t want to talk?”

He shakes his head, eyes tightly shut as if using every mental facility available to keep from cumming.

“You know what I can do to you if you don’t talk.” He nods. “And you know what’s going to happen if you come before I tell you to. Right?”

You pump him a tick faster and his hips buck.

“Fuck. Yes, yes, I know.”

You arch an eyebrow at him, his jaw tight and clenched, the pink from his groin spreading up his chest. You think he might be sweating slightly, his skin fire hot.

“Then you only have yourself to blame for this.”

You bend forward and take him entirely into your mouth, his sensitive head pricking the back of your throat.

“Ohhh, fucking hell–,”

His cock rigid against your tongue, you lap at him, deeply inhaling the musky scent of those curls. His stomach tenses and his hips jerk but he doesn’t move. He knows bucking them into your mouth will making him come like lightning, despite the torture of keeping still. He drops his head back against the pillow and releases a full body groan.

“I’m gonna fucking die.”

You chuckle, humming around him, before sucking him up and down, up and down – he pants loudly above you – and then you pull off him entirely.

“You aren’t going to die,” you murmur coolly, using your middle finger and thumb to jerk his head slightly. His thighs shake. “You might, though, when I suck your soul out through this cock.”

You slurp him down again, mouth salty with precum, and suck and twirl and lick and –

“Okay, stop, stop, I’m gonna c-come – I’ll tell you where your friends are.”

Beyond pleased with yourself, you let him drop out of your mouth and look up. You’re struck by what you see.

Chest red and heaving, sweat darkening the hair at his temples, arms shaking and fingers clenched around the headboard, he’s coming undone. He’s falling apart. His teeth clenched so hard, the tension contorts his beautiful face and he breathes harshly through his nose. You know if it really was too much, he’d say the safe word and you’d back off in an instant. But this is also the sort of play your boyfriend goes absolutely bonkers for.

He swallows. “I-in the bathroom,” he chokes out, his voice cracked and dry, “they’re in the bathroom.”

You bite his hip bone, flesh twitching beneath your teeth.

“Good boy.”

Easing your weight off him, you slide off the mattress and leave him sweating and flustered. You flip on the light switch, the dark room suddenly flooding with an almost painful white light. Blinking back tears as your eyes adjust, you catch yourself in the mirror.

He is the one tied up, edged to the fringe of pain, but you still look debauched. Hair a mess from where he sunk his hands into you as he kissed you, pleated skirt up by your waist, teasing a hint of your cunt, and your tits flushed and pink, the power of a vampire slayer looks good on you. You smirk at yourself, knowing that just this look on you has him at the razor margin of coming in his pants, and then your gaze drops to the counter.

On little pieces of paper in front there are names like “Xander”, “Cordelia”, “Willow”. Clearly planned and thought out, the names sit in front of different sex toys. Vibrators, beads, plugs – you name it. You grin because your boyfriend was often a pop-culture dork and you can only imagine his childish glee as he set this up. Ridiculous. Idiot.

You pick up a black plug, short and squat, with the name “Spike”. Sometimes he was about as subtle as a train wreck. Taking up the conveniently placed bottle of lube, you go back to the bedroom, to your little plaything.

His cock isn’t bright red, not as strict, whatever he focused on to keep from coming clearly worked. He licks his lips as he sees you come out, hands behind your back.

“Did you find them?”

“Yes, I did. Very good vampire.” Kneeling at the edge of the bed, you bunch up the covers and hide the toy and lube underneath, knowing exactly when you want to show them to him. His eyes widen, hands fisting your sticky panties.

“Can’t we play?”

“So eager,” you coo as you crawl up to him again. You bite his earlobe, hands palming his wide chest. “We’re almost there, but not yet.”

His hips shift, searching for the heat of yours as you settle on his stomach. Your cunt’s slick smears on his hot skin and his nose flares.

“What do I have to do?”

Heartbeat hard against your wrists, your ribs, your thighs, you swallow his gaze as you reach behind you and squeeze the base of his cock. He gasps, the touch unexpected, and in three strokes, he’s hard, straining, between your ass cheeks. You rub your ass against him once and you can see his resolve start to crumble. He’s been on the edge for too long, buckling against the climbing weight of his own orgasm. He whines, his eyes tightly shut, the eyeliner running down his temple. You wait, thinking this is where he will call it quits, use the safeword and tear out of his restraints. But he doesn’t. He twitches and heaves and shudders, precum running in between your fingers.

Your little goth badass is struggling to keep it together.

You bend forward and kiss him lightly on his cheek, his skin warm and wet.

“You have to make me come,” you whisper. Without looking at him, you reach to the end of the bed, and pull out the plug you’ve chosen.

He literally whimpers when he sees what’s in your hand. His open mouth is wet, stringy with spit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck – S-slayer, p-please –,”

“Not for you, silly,” you hum. Holding onto the plug, you slather a truly horrendous amount of lube over it. It drips wet and warm onto his chest, his skin tightening. His fangs hover above his bottom lip. He wants to devour you.

You stroke him twice more, inch back, and arch your back, his cock brushing your stomach. On an exhale, you insert the plug into yourself and finally let out the moan that’s been building in your chest all night. Watching your face go slack, he snarls.

“I wanted to do that.”

You breathe out, feeling full and swollen, slick leaking down your thigh. You crack open an eye and smirk as he seethes. He straddles the edge, cracking under your fingertips, and he still thinks he owns your asshole.

“Don’t be naughty or I’ll make it three.”

With a quick lick up his cock, you settle forward and take his red tip into your cunt. He flushes, sweat breaking out on his skin, as you sink, lower, and lower, swallowing him more and more, as your body literally molds to take more and more of him. By the time you straddle him completely, his cock thick and throbbing inside of you, the moan you made is only matched by his, low, deep, aching. The headboard hisses as his fists clench around the slates.

“Baby – please, you have to – move – baby–,”

“You don’t get to come, even if I do, understand?”

He shudders, his hips jerking up in small strokes, his eyes fluttering shut. “Yes, I k-know.”

“Good boy.”

And you rise up on your knees and drop all the way back down, searching for a pace that is as fast as it is punishing. Squeezing his hips with your thighs, you ride him, that syrupy heat turning from a simmer to a roar, pleasure throbbing like a fresh bruise. The tendons in his neck flex and strong as he fights to wrangle in that spark, that wildfire, he looks up at you, eyes swimming with need, with adoration, with rage. He wants to fuck you, wants his hands on you, wants to pluck you apart with his fingers, his tongue – but mostly he wants to come with you.

Sweat slips down the back of your neck, over your shoulder, nestling under your breast. More dripped down your spine, his thighs soaked from your slick. His restraint only drags you higher, faster, sharper. His own frustration is palpable and your complete control over him tightens your cunt. You bounce rougher and he grunts, barely audible words escaping his clenched teeth i’m gonna fuck you gonna ruin that cunt gonna split you open baby baby baby his forearms so tight, you could see his veins up through his arms.

The image of a ruined Max Phillips quivering and sweating beneath you, obeying you, submitting to you, allowing you to reduce him to this – the plug going deeper and deeper, feeling overwhelmed, overspilling – it breaks you open. White lightning pierces you and tears slip out of your eyes, head thrown back, a moan tearing up your throat so loud you wonder if his neighbors will complain.

You gush over his hips, his jeans, his throbbing cock, every muscle in your lower body tense and tight, milking his cock. Over the ringing in your ears, you hear him make a guttural groan in the back of his throat. Your thighs tremble.

“You can come, baby, come inside me.”

Three things happen within seconds of each other.

Max tears his way out of your black panties, tears the cheap skirt from your hips, literally tearing the fabric in half, and he flips you onto your back. With a snarl, he shoves your knees up to your chest and thrust deeper inside you than you could ever reach on top. It nearly knocks the wind out of you.

You scrabble at his chest, little nails digging into his damp skin, but he doesn’t slow down. Doesn’t stop. He’s kept himself back long enough for this. Only this.

He fists the stocking around your calf as he plunges deeper and deeper into your pussy. He pushes against a patch inside of you only he can seem to reach and you tighten beneath him, mouth dropping open.

“That’s it. That’s where you need it,” he smirks, the groan that follows nicking his ribs. “You’re such a filthy little Slayer. Need to get properly fucked by your dirty vampire’s big cock, don’t you?”

You nod, each brush of his cock against that spot has your thighs shaking and knees weak. He gives a particularly rough thrust and tears leak out of the corner of your eyes.

“Oh god – yes – I need – right fucking there – I need it.”

“Need what?” He isn’t going to let you get away with it after that much edging.

You try to focus on his face through bleary eyes, through the rapid pounding your cunt is taking, the whole bed creaking, so cock-drunk you think you might drool, and you claw at his ribs.

“Need your cock, Max. And your hand.”

He knows exactly what you mean, what you want. His grip switches, arm balanced out by your head, and the other hand sliding up between your damp tits and his fingers tighten around your throat. His eyes tracking his thumb, he brushes the spot where he bit you last week. He could have healed you in an instant, hates seeing any lingering hurt on you, but you begged him to leave the mark, leave the scar. You thought you really might love him that day.

He thrusts hard and deep and his fingers tighten. Your vision blurs, blackness creeping in, your body going numb to the pounding, your grasp around his wrists going limp.

And then, the world rushes back, pours into you, bright, loud, hot, and pleasure explodes out through your body and you come, harder than you’ve ever done in recent memory. It doesn’t even feel like an orgasm – it’s your soul being returned from some other astral plane into a hot, steaming soup.

Above you, the force of his own orgasm knocks Max onto his elbows, hunched over you and filling you with so much delayed cum it leaks out of you and down the curve of the plug. You feel numb, tingle all over, as feeling slowly returns to your extremities, your skin warm and throbbing. Max’s own body beats in sync with his thudding heartbeat. Sweat pours off you both as if a dripping towel had been wrung out above you.

As awareness slowly returns, you realize he’s basically crushing you with his full weight, but you wouldn’t dare ask him to move. If he is in the same state you are, he can’t feel his legs.

Panting through the same shared breaths, Max lifts his head from the curve of your neck and soothes his pulsating skin by gently touching his forehead to yours. Shaking, he presses an embarrassingly chase kiss to your lips.

“Fuck, can we do that again?”

You chuckle mindlessly. “Which part? The heart-stopping orgasm or a shameful reenactment of a 90s classic tv show?”

Max groans as he flops onto the bed next to you. “The first one. Both. I don’t know. Don’t ask me hard questions right now.”

You chuckle, breathing heavy, as you eye the shredded remnants of your cheerleader skirt and panties.

“You’re lucky I bought this costume outright. Don’t know how I was going to explain what the fuck happened to it.”

“Hey, you show up in these again,” he flicks the ruined lumps of your pigtails, “I’ll fuck you however wherever you want.”

“Do I even want to know where you got your get up?” You nod to his general appearance, ruined makeup and black nails. He glances down and realizes he’s still wearing those black skinny jeans.

“Shit, no fucking wonder I can’t feel my legs. Damn things are cutting off my circulation.”

You giggle as he struggles to strip himself bare, kicking the jeans down his legs and off the bed. Carefully, you take out the plug, dropping it to the floor, wince at the emptiness knowing it would need to be cleaned later. And maybe later, Max would use his tongue to soothe the muscle.

But he’s too out of it to notice now. He flops back down, arms outstretched, and not needing an invitation, you curl up against his chest. His arms fold around you, his lips automatically coming to rest against your hairline, as your breathing settles.

“So, good birthday present?” You grin up at him.

He rubs his eyes as he groans, smearing his eyeliner even more. “Fuck, baby, the fucking best. Like, you don’t even have to get me a Christmas present.”

You trace his chest, his ribs with a finger, a small smile curling your lips. “Hmm, you say that now . . .”

He laughs, no more than a huff, and kisses your forehead. “It’ll be hard to top that, sweetheart.”

With that smirk spreading across your face, you sit up on an elbow, turning to look down at him. He’s just fucking glowing.

“I don’t know . . . I was thinking something more dirty. Something that will ensure we definitely go to hell.”

He tips his finger up and down your shoulder, eyes already going dark, cock twitching against his stomach. “What did you have in mind?”

“Have you ever been choked out by a rosary?”

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