#anyway hi dropping off some art for a fic I love

[vriah]

Fuckboi Dream Was Forced To Experience The Mortifying Ordeal Of Being Alive And All He Got Was This Stupid Husband (by Fall Out Boy) by @dancinbutterfly

[gojorgeous]

"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 

“Yes, my lady?” 

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 

“Do you like them?” 

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 

“Of course… Satoru.” 

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 

“Not tonight.” 

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 

~  

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

~

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 

He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 

~

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

~

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

~

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 

No, no, no. 

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 

“About the estate?” he asks. 

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?” 

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 

“Yes,” you whisper. 

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

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[chaos-in-deepspace]

L&DS Xavier: Bunny Tears | 18+

So anyway Kirakanjo posted another piece of art with Xavier in it and I went absolutely FERAL once more. So not only did I write a Xavier pegging fic again...I edited it. Y'all I put effort into my writing which never freaking happens. Them images be doing something to me and I need to write it.

♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Pairings: Xavier x Reader ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Warnings: Blow jobs, hand jobs, men crying, submissive Xavier, pegging, cum eating ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Synopsis: Xavier has once again managed to almost burn down the kitchen, leading the two of you to be covered in ash. A small suggestion to shower together leads to a little bit more...but really who's surprised by this turn of events? ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Word Count: 8k

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Bunny Tears

You looked over at Xavier from behind the couch, your entire body a little tense. He had insisted he was going to cook, something that made you nervous and on edge. The man had gotten a little bit better after your mission when he was masquerading as the perfect house husband, but you were still weary about it; your eyes never left his figure as he hummed. It was only when he opened the oven that you felt your stomach drop.

“Xavier?” your voice was hesitant as you looked over at him. The man turned, his fluffy hair catching the sunlight and creating a halo effect around him. For a moment he seemed like a true angel…which at times he was. In this exact moment though he was closer to a devil who was about to lay ruin to his own domain.

“Yes?” he seemed so calm, so gentle as he looked over at you. Those pretty blue eyes shining in the light and you almost felt bad for not trusting him with the simple appliance.

“How about I go ahead and do that part,” you were already standing up when his voice stopped you.

“Don’t worry, I made sure to read the instruction manual on this oven. I have it all covered, you just sit back and relax,” he assured you, but his words refused to calm your nerves, “Dinner will be ready soon.” he promised.

You reluctantly sat back down, but your eyes never left his figure. He went back to humming some tune you didn’t know, placing the tray inside the oven and closing it up before hitting a few buttons. From your angle you couldn’t see what was on the tray, nor the buttons he selected. You could only hope things went smoothly.

It took about ten minutes before your fears were realized. You shouldn’t have been surprised to see it, but honestly it was like fireworks. Whatever was inside of the oven literally exploded and made a loud bang noise that shook the room; you just stared at it with wide eyes and a slack jaw. Xavier, who had been watching this monstrosity cook, was also staring at it. He seemed more confused if anything and after you both watched it you realized somebody had to kick it into gear.

You vaulted off the back of the couch and began rushing into the kitchen like your life depended on it. There were already flames and you had no idea how this was even possible in only ten minutes. You grabbed the fire extinguisher from underneath the sink and managed to snuff out the fire in record time, then quickly went over to shut the damn thing off before anything else could happen. You were panting as you stared at the now burnt oven, then back at Xavier who had opted to just watch the entire thing with wide eyes. 

After a moment of silence you finally managed to get out, “Xavier…what the fuck?” you looked between him and the ashes. Xavier finally seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in, walking over to you and the oven. He placed a hand over your waist, probably about to apologize and make everything alright when the next series of unfortunate events happened. 

The food that Xavier had managed to cook had become char in the oven, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the center of the lump to explode and propell said ashes all over the surrounding areas. The explosion also managed to ricochet the powder from the fire extinguisher that had been coating it, making a beautiful plume of every chemical that shouldn't be in your lungs. 

It had you coughing and hacking, “The window! Get the window!” You called out to Xavier, not even  capable of seeing through all the smoke. Xavier’s frantic footsteps could be heard as he dashed towards the nearest window in the kitchen, the latch clicked open as it was unlocked and thrown open in a flurry.

“Come on,” Xavier’s voice had the nerve to sound worried as he wrapped strong arms around you, lifting you up and carrying you out of the main area of the explosion where particles still lingered. Once safely in the living room, you hacked and coughed some of the smoke out of your lungs then looked over at Xavier. You were opening your mouth to begin a long and drawn out lecture, but he managed to beat you to it.

“I’m sorry…” He said, his voice a gentle lull that made all your anger about the situation dissipated. You let out a small sigh then took in his appearance. His pristine skin now had smatterings of ash all over it and you couldn’t help but laugh. He looked like he had just come back from a battle against some wanderers with how the dark soots clung to his hair and face and slowly fell to the ground whenever he moved.

“Xavie…” You said with amusement in your voice, “You got a little…” you pointed over at his nose where some of the ash was smudged. He looked at you with a similar look in his eyes.

“I’m not the only one,” He pointed out, reaching over and swiping his thumb over your cheek, “We’re both messes right now,” he sighed, leaning in to press his forehead against yours. His hands now on your waist as he looked into your eyes with a lovestruck expression.

“Oh I wonder whose fault that is,” you teased, shaking your head, “We need a shower and a change of clothes. We can order some food afterwards,” it was a suggestion that you were certain Xavier would be all for. It would also give you two an opportunity to clean up the mess in the kitchen while you waited for dinner…it wasn’t something you looked forward to as your eyes glanced behind Xavier to see that there was still stuff floating about in the kitchen.

“That sounds nice…should we open some more windows?” Xavier asked after he followed your gaze. Everything was destroyed and you were certain there might’ve even been some neighbors in the hallway staring at the door with all the commotion this had caused. The only difference this time was the fire alarms weren’t blaring to alert everyone in the complex that this man hadn’t a single clue about how to cook.

Honestly you were damn happy you managed to uninstall his fire alarms. Was it a violation to the apartment contract? Without a doubt, yes. Did you care? No. You would actually cry if you had to hear those alarms going off anytime the man thought he could cook, a sentiment you were sure was shared amongst everyone living nearby.

“Ya, let’s open every available window for now,” you said, “Then it’s shower time,” you were already heading towards the living room to get to work. It only took a few minutes to get everything open, and Xavier even went so far as to open the ones in his bedroom as well, just in case. The gentle breeze that blew into the apartment was already making it easier to breathe in.

Once all was said and done, Xavier had come back up to you, “If you’d like, you can shower first,”. You couldn’t help yourself, he was just too sweet and adorable when he gave you those eyes and put your needs before his. Your hands cupped his cheeks and you dragged him down for a quick kiss. He let out a confused noise from the back of his throat, but ended up leaning into you like he always did. His body melted into you everytime your lips touched and right now was no different; his hands gently placed on your hip, his lips gently grazing your own.

When you parted you looked up at him, “How about we shower together today?” showering was something you two didn’t partake in too often as the shower wasn’t huge, but in moments like these it made sense. You both desperately needed to clean up. 

Xavier’s grip on your hips tightened in response as he then leaned down quickly for another soft press of your lips and smiled, “I like the sound of that,” he took your hand into his own, his thumb grazing against your knuckles. It was tender as he brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles before giving it a proper hold. 

He began leading you through the apartment, gently tugging you along and squeezing your hand until you arrived in his restroom. It was just big enough for the two of you to comfortably be inside at the same time. The room looked like a perfect combination of the two of you, a few of your personal belongings scattered about. Xavier had insisted you kept things over here despite how you lived right below him. You assumed he liked having pieces of you in his life, and you could relate.

The moment you began undressing you realized that your current attire was absolutely ruined, no amount of washing would fix that. As you began working your pants off your eyes trailed over to your boyfriend. Your timing couldn’t have been more perfect as you watched him take off his hoodie in one swift motion, revealing the expanse of his muscular chest. You had to pause for a second, taking in the sight. You didn’t know how someone could be sculpted so perfectly, but here Xavier stood, like a greek statue come to life. Except…

Your eyes turned down to him unzipping his pants…ya that certainly wasn’t like any of the statues you had seen. He had stopped in his motions and your eyes went back up to see him looking directly at you. One of his eyebrows rose as he noticed how your eyes were practically glued to him. You were completely unashamed of your actions and when you noticed his eyes quickly flickering over your form you smirked.

“Why’d you stop, I was enjoying myself,” You teased him, slowly making your way to the shower. You turned it on and sat at the edge, leaning on the wall as your gaze went back to him, “Go on,” you encouraged. Now you were making a show of how you looked at him, even going so far as to  lick your lips. You could see the way his body shuddered under your gaze and it was already starting to set the mood for something else.

Xavier looked at you one more time before his hands went back to his half open pants. He slowly worked them open and hooked his fingers into the edge in a seductive fashion, eyes quickly flicking to yours to make sure you were watching. You watched the shuddered breath he took in as he worked his pants and briefs off, for a second the briefs got caught on the half hard bulge. You fought back the urge to tease him, knowing just how his body reacted when around you. This shower was probably going to last a little bit longer than expected, but you certainly didn’t mind.

Once he was fully undressed he approached you, taking your hand once more as he led you into the shower. Like the gentleman he was, he made sure you were directly under the showerhead. His hands went into your hair, massaging your scalp as he worked out some of the ashes. The water poured over your face as you closed your eyes, feeling his hands rubbing off the dirt and debris for you. You briefly felt his lips ghosting over your own, but when you opened he was just looking at you with that innocent smile as though he didn’t do anything.

“Xavier…” you murmured, wanting to drag him back down for a proper kiss, but he needed to be cleaned up first. With your hands on his shoulders you were able to spin the two of you around, the motion fluid with the amount of times you had done this. He didn’t fight you on it, instead sighing as he got under the running water. He turned towards it, letting it splash onto his face and hair as he washed himself, leaving you to watch him.

The way the water trickled down his back teasingly, his back muscles moving with every motion…it was so tantalizing. He managed to be sexy without even trying and you knew for a fact you didn’t want to hold back for even a second longer. As soon as you were certain he was cleaned up, you took a step forward, wrapping your arms around his front and pressing your face between his shoulder blades. 

Your lips gently grazed his shoulder blades as your arms held him tighter to your body. A shiver went down his spine as he craned his neck around to look at you. “Did you need something?” he asked, his voice as sweet and gentle as it always was. 

You let out a satisfied hum at his question, you pressed another sweet kiss into his shoulder before speaking up, “You’re so pretty, Xayxay,” you muttered contently against him. Your grip loosened a bit as you nuzzled your face into him..

Xavier understood what you wanted, turning around in your arms. You wasted no time, leaning up and pressing your lips against his own. Once more he began melting against your mouth as he sighed as though your lips were the only thing he needed in life. Xavier let out a small gasp once he felt your tongue prodding at his lower lip and he easily opened up, allowing your tongue to explore his mouth. Xavier always tasted sweet to you, something so uniquely him as your mouth explored his own.

Xavier’s groan echoed along the shower walls, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. Your bodies were pressed together as one of your hands grasped his hair, keeping him right where you wanted him. The loud smacking of lips reverberated in the small room as you drank in the man before you, enjoying every brush of his tongue against your own as your thighs pressed together.

You felt his cock twitching against your stomach and you smirked against Xavier’s mouth. Your free hand running down his chest until you were tracing the lines of his Adonis belt teasingly. You parted for only a second and looked up at him through your eyelashes.

“Getting excited?” you asked with a smirk, your hand now trailing even lower until you were cupping his dick. He let out a small groan, his hips rolling up into your hand in response. You grasped his dick, giving a few experimental tugs on him, watching as his mouth dropped open and he stared down at you, “I wanna hear you, sweetheart, want you to tell me exactly what you want,”

“O-okay,” he managed to moan, “Please keep…” your pace got a little bit faster at the sound of his pleading. The smallest whimper escaping him, his voice got caught in his throat as the only thing he was focused on was your hand pumping his cock with the perfect pressure that had his mind reeling.

“Keep what?” You cooed, loving how responsive this man always was. His breathing began mixing with the loud noises of your hand expertly working his cock. Your thumb swiping some of the leaking pre cum that was threatening to drop onto the shower floor, “Come on, I wanna hear you,” you teased, placing a small nip to his jawline..

He leaned closer to you, his hands grasping your hips as he rolled his own up into your waiting hand, “Keep…touching me,” his voice sounded breathless and you could feel how he twitched in your hand. To think  he would be this quick to cum just from a simple hand job. You absolutely adored this side of Xavier, when he completely gave in to you and became such a good and submissive boy. This side of him was reserved only for you which is exactly why you enjoyed drawing it out of him.

“Alright, pretty boy,” you cooed, your hand now speeding up. Your only goal at the moment was to get him to cum, and with how his hips were jerking he was seconds away. His head bent down into your shoulder as he let out a small whine. The pelting of the water against his back was the only thing grounding him at the moment as he finally gave in to the pleasure.

You looked between your bodies and watched as ropes of cum erupted from the head of his cock. The thick fluid coated your hands and splashed between your bodies, some of it getting right onto your stomach and dripping down between your legs. Xavier seemed to have noticed this too, another lewd moan coming from the back of his throat as he rolled his hips a few more times into your waiting hand, letting his spend wash over the both of you.

You let him relax against you for a moment, your fingers playing with some of his cum that was now coating your palm and fingers. A thought crossed your mind and after Xavier’s breathing started to even out, you used your shoulder to gently nudge him off you. He stood back up, looking down at you with a gentle flush coating his cheeks that seemed to darken as you brought your hand up to his mouth.

“Want a taste, bunny?” You asked, the cum slightly smearing on the corner of his lips as you swiped your thumb over his mouth. You watched how his eyes widened a fraction as what you were asking. He looked at you for a minute more, weighing his options as he felt your finger pressing a little harder on his bottom lip, a silent command to open.

He complied, opening his mouth, his tongue darting out and licking his essence off your palm. He groaned at the taste, and you smirked as he lapped up his own release. HIs pink tongue licking between your fingers as he worked on making sure it was completely clean. When most of it was gone you pressed two fingers onto his tongue, pressing down as his jaw opened for you to look in his mouth. You could see a little bit of the white on the tip and you glanced back into his eyes.

“What a good boy, now make sure to swallow it,” you said and watched as he closed his mouth around your fingers, giving them a gentle suck as he swallowed his own load. You took your fingers out of his mouth and reached behind him, turning off the shower and looking up at him.

“What a good boy…” you murmured, your hand on his shoulder as you coaxed him to follow your lead, leaning down and kissing him again. Xavier groaned against your mouth as you pressed your tongue back into his, able to faintly taste his release. His grip on your hips tightening for a second as you parted as though he didn’t want you to go. He looked so damn handsome like this and you swore you were falling in love all over again.

“We should…” he trailed off and you knew exactly what he was implying. Without the running water it was starting to get chilly. As much as you watched to watch his nipples pebbling up from the chill, you did want to get warmed up.

“Alright, come on,” you said, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his lips before taking his hands off your hips. You took his larger hand into your own, dragging him out of the shower. He was smiling at you, allowing you to pull him in any direction you wanted. You took a towel and wrapped it around his waist, forcing him forward and into your body once more, “How about after we dry off a little…” you began suggesting.

You didn’t even finish your train of thought as Xavier nodded, “Yes please,” he quickly said, not even an ounce of shame with how desperate he was for you. You chuckled as you wrapped the fluffy towel around his waist and grabbed your own. The two of you fell into a rhyme together, practically dancing around one another as you worked on getting yourselves dried off.

Once you were somewhat dry you two left the towels abandoned on the floor. Hand in hand as you made your way into the bedroom, bumping into one another like excited teens doing something naughty. The way Xavier kept gazing down at you like you were the one who hung every star in the sky.

The moment you came to the bedroom you were gently pushing him down onto the mattress, your hand on his chest. He didn’t fight it, allowing you to crawl on top of him, your lips meeting again and Xavier’s hands threaded through your hair, gently playing with it as he kept you against him. If there was one thing Xavier loved, it was kissing you. It was like oxygen as your lips perfectly melded together every single time, sending a tingling sensation to the back of his head and making him shiver. He could never get enough of you as you gently bit down on his lower lip, requesting access once more.

You parted your lips from him, opting to look down at the man as your hair dripped onto his body, “Xavier,” you began breathlessly, catching his attention, “I still wanna play a little bit,” you murmured, catching his attention at the way you said it. You had the smallest pout on your lips, although he could tell with how your eyes were gleaming that something sinister was brewing in your mind.

Still, he was a weak man, and if you said jump he’d ask how high and to where. “Alright, if that’s what you want,” he said, his voice wavering only slightly. He had hoped you would just ride him, or maybe let him flip you over, but if you wanted to play with his body then he’d allow you. As long as you didn’t tease him too much he let you do whatever you wanted.

“Thanks babe,” you leaned back up to kiss him quickly before your lips began pressing along his body. You could hear his breath hitch as your lips trailed down his neck and to his chest. Your tongue lapping at one of his hardened nipples before latching on. His back arched into you just from the simple.

“W-wait,” he moaned out, feeling how your tongue swirled around the hardening bud. You let out a hum, looking up at him while your other hand went to play with his other nipple. You waited for him to continue but instead he ground his hips up into you. At this angle his cock was rutting against your stomach and you could feel how hard he had gotten since the shower. You felt the slightest wet sensation from the top of his cock leaking.

Perhaps at some point you’d see if it was possible to get him to cum with just stimulation to his nipples, but you wanted him to cum in your mouth at the moment. When you had kissed him earlier, tongue pressing against his own, you could faintly taste him. It had you craving more, like it always did. It was bitter, salty, but it tasted like him and that was all your mind really wanted. You wanted Xavier in every way possible, all at once.

You popped off his nipple, licking your already wet lips, “Xavier, you told me to wait,” you pressed a kiss between his pecs, “Now what am I waiting for?” your mouth was moving over to his other cute nipple. It was pink and pebbled perfect as your breath ghosted over it, sending a shiver down Xavier’s spine.

Xavier opened his mouth and was about to say something when he seemed to pause. His eyebrows furrowed as he clearly tried to think about why he wanted you to wait. You felt so good kissing him, licking his nipples, it was making him hard and needy. He swallowed the lump in his throat as you spoke up, “Can’t remember? Want me to continue then?” teasingly your tongue poked out your mouth and licked his pearled up bud.

This elicited a small gasp from him, his hand reaching up to run through your hair, pushing away some so it wouldn’t get in the way, “Yes please,” he said and your mouth latched onto him, giving this side the same treatment. Your tongue swirling around his hardened peak, making him groan as he pressed his chest closer to your mouth. Your fingers played with the other side, giving it a harsh pinch so you could see him mewl.

His hips were rutting shamelessly against your stomach, twitching as he tried to get some much needed stimulation. You smirked, biting around his nipple and god that had him moaning like a damn whore, his grip on your hair tightening as you popped off his nipple. You looked at your work, seeing his pink nipples now turned a red tone. Your teeth marks were perfectly around one of them and his blush now spread from his cheeks down to his chest so perfectly it made you want to eat him right up.

“Such a pretty boy,” your words made him whimper, watching as you began kissing a trail down his chest to his abs. Your tongue lapped at some of the water droplets that still clung to his skin as you gazed up at him. He was watching you with such an intense gaze as you made your way down to his hips.

You bit down on his Adonis belt, making Xavier’s hips buck up into you. You felt his erection between your chest now, leaking all over you from how hot and bothered you managed to make him. You chuckled as you licked at the small red bite mark you had left on him. Xavier looked down at you, his eyebrows furrowed at your teasing.

“Something to say?” you said, your hands now rubbing at his thighs as you coaxed him to spread them. The pink dusting on his cheeks didn’t seem like it would be going anywhere soon, in fact it seemed to make him a shade darker as he looked away from you for a moment. Despite his embarrassed state, you watched as he opened his legs to make room for you to nestle between them. Your cheek rested on his inner thigh as your other hand gently played with the other.

“N-no…” he said, looking at you between his thighs. You looked at him lovingly, smiling as you kissed his thigh and adjusted yourself. Your hand wrapping around his cock as you gave a few gentle tugs, feeling how he twitched in your hands. He let out a small whimper at your hand wrapping around him again, his eyes half lidded as he stared down at you. You could see his mouth open slightly, panting and you shivered at the sight. He was so sensitive and it never ceased to turn you on.

You teased him one last time, biting down on his inner thigh hard and watched as his cock jumped in your hands. A thick bead of pre cum dripping down the shaft and right into your hand as you casually pumped his cock. Xavier let out a whimpering moan at the rough treatment and you only wished he didn’t heal so damn fast the marks you left would be seen for at least a week after this. It was fine, you’d just have to refresh them daily since they went away seemingly overnight.

Finally you took his cock into your mouth, giving the tip a harsh suck. Xavier’s hips rolled into your mouth out of instinct, making you smirk and pop off him, “Xavie baby,” you cooed, watching his hazy eyes staring down at you as he tried listening, “Be still for me, okay sweetheart?” you began, “Think you can do that for me?”

Xavier let out a groan and nodded, but when he noticed you weren’t back on his dick he realized what you wanted, “I-I promise,” he swore, his tone breathy and debauched already. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth. You briefly wondered if you could make him drool today by fucking him. Well, there was only one way to find out…

You wasted no time, your mouth moving on Xavier as you began sucking his cock like it was the last thing you’d ever taste. The change was immediate as you began working in earnest, and Xavier clearly wasn’t prepared for you to be sucking him like this right out the gate.  The high pitched keen that left him was telling, as well as the steady dribble of his pre that was coating the back of your tongue. You groaned at the taste of him, working to relax your throat so you could take all of him. 

Xavier certainly wasn’t small, the girth of his cock was punishing if you weren’t prepared to take it, but thankfully his length was only a little above average. It made it a little easier for you to deepthroat him, but even then you gagged around his length a little as it hit the back of your throat. Xavier gasped at the sound you made, looking down with a flush as his hand went back into your hair, dragging you off his cock and watching the trail of saliva connecting your lips to the tip.

“Y-you don’t have to…” he swallowed, “Take it too deep…it feels good no matter what,” he said, his eyes concerned despite how turned on he was. You moved to kiss his cock, making him close his eyes and breath deeply, trying to steady himself from how good you were making him feel right now.

Finally you deigned to speak up, “Do you not like me gagging on your cock, Xavier?” the lewd words making him groan, “Because I love taking you deep, babes, seeing your eyes rolling back from the pleasure. Want you to get lost in it,” you rambled on, licking up his length. A small whine escaped him as his grip on your hair loosened enough for you to move freely, “Let me make you feel good, bunny, I promise I won’t push myself. Is that okay?” you licked the dribble from his tip again.

Xavier licked his lips and nodded, “If you’re sure…” he said and it was the green light you were waiting for. Your lips wrapping back around him as you sank down as deep as you could go, feeling his cock once again hitting the back of your throat and you hummed in delight.

Xavier hadn’t expected you to sink down like that the moment he said it was okay. His head was thrown back onto the pillow as he let out the loudest moan of the night. His sounds were music to your ears, so beautiful every single time he let a noise escape those pretty lips of his.

His  head was now spinning from how good you were making him feel and it was a struggle for him not to roll his hips into your mouth. His throbbing cock was heavy on your tongue as you worked on swirling it around his shaft. With how thick he was it wasn’t easy, his dick taking up all the room in your mouth and it caused a gentle ache in your jaw.

His breathing was becoming labored and he could feel himself getting close embarrassingly at an alarmingly fast rate. Perhaps it was due to him still being sensitive from you jerking him off in the shower, but the moans coming out of him were so loud and his cock was now twitching against your tongue. His body trembled as he worked on holding himself back and it was so adorable seeing him place his hand in his mouth, biting down on it to keep his noise level down.

What wouldn’t fit in your mouth was now being stroked with your hand, your other one cupping his balls and you could feel how they tightened in your grasp, “W-wait I’m…” Xavier managed to get out, wanting to warn you, maybe even stop you from continuing. He probably wanted to be inside of you before he came, but at present you had no intention on letting him fuck you for this evening.

You could feel his cock twitch once more before you could taste the bitterness of his cum as he shot out and onto your tongue. You worked on angling his cock so his load wouldn’t shoot right down your throat. You wanted to taste him as you worked him through a second orgasm for the night. You hummed around his length, closing your eyes and enjoying the moment as his grip on your hair was so tight. The burn of it only made you feel hot and bothered as you rolled your hips into the mattress below.

Xavier was so sensitive at the moment as he started to come down from his high. He flinched at feeling how you had kept him in your mouth, your tongue laving at the lip as you swallowed his load. He could feel your throat constricting with the motion and he recoiled. You smirked at the reaction he had, knowing it was probably a little painful after just coming for the second time that night. You had every intention of ruining this man though, so instead of letting him have a moment to breathe you were popping your lips off his cock and replacing it with your hand.

You spit on your other hand, placing your wet fingers against his entrance. Some of the spit from your sloppy blowjob had already dripped down to his ass, making it easier to push a finger into his hole. You watched Xavier’s eyes shoot open, widening almost comically as he let out a whorish moan. He looked down as you began fucking him with your finger, your mouth going back to wrap around the head of his dick.

“S-stop it’s-mhm fuck,” he gasped out as your fingers found his prostate the moment you were pressed into him. You had done this so many times it was second nature to you. You felt how his cock was twitching again in your mouth. It hadn’t even had a moment to soften as your tongue worked on the length. Xavier looked completely out of it, staring down at you with a frantic look in those hazy blue eyes.

Xavier was panting, trying to shy away from your touches but it was no use. He let out another whine and rolled his hips up, making you gag for a second on his length and you looked up at him in amusement. He looked so fucked out and he had only cum twice so far. He was honestly too adorable as you continued to finger him, a second finger now pressing inside as you scissored him. You worked his entrance open all the while listening to his symphony and whimpers and whines.

He was squirming under your ministrations, the hand that wasn’t in your hair was thrown back into his mouth as he bit down harshly in a failed attempt at muffling those cute noises. The noises he made were sure to get you guys a few noise complaints come tomorrow morning, but as it stood you were drinking them all in as you didn’t let up. His cock throbbed in your mouth, pulsing against your tongue and you finally took your mouth off his cock. You licked your lips, his taste lingering in your mouth and you ground your hips once more into the mattress to help alleviate the growing arousal in you. You wanted to focus on Xavier though, you could deal with your own needs at another time.

Xavier’s ass clenched around your fingers perfectly and you almost felt bad when you took them out. Xavier looked down at you confused as to why you stopped. While his body was sensitive he was starting to get so close to coming again.

“W-why’d you…” he trailed off, his lips forming a cute pout and you chuckled at the sight. Fuck he was too adorable and he didn’t even realize it half the time. How was this man a dangerous hunter yet easily fell apart into a whimpering mess the moment you toyed with his body?

“Give me a minute, okay?” you assured him with a gentle squeeze to his thighs. You stood up from the bed and walked over to the drawer in the nightstand, quickly finding your harness alongside the lube. It was a pretty little thing, a sleek baby blue strap that was long and tapered. It wasn’t particularly girthy, but the end of it did have an upward turn for finding the prostate. It was the perfect toy for Xavier. He didn’t much care for having something huge in him, but he was always readily accepting of something that would graze that tender spot inside every thrust.

Xavier has wrongfully assumed he had a moment of peace as he laid back on the mattress, his cock hard but sensitive. That illusion was destroyed the moment he looked over to see the strap in your hand. His breath got caught in his throat as he saw you holding the harness and lube, looking at him with intrigue. His cock betrayed him, twitching at the sight of you and it didn’t go unnoticed if the growing smirk on your face was telling.

You watched as your sweet boy squirmed on the bed, attempting to sit up so he could have at least a little dignity. Just by clicking your tongue he paused, looking over at you, “Xavier, calm down baby boy,” you cooed, “I’ll give you what you want in just a second, let me just put this on real fast,”

He stopped moving for a moment, opting to sink back onto the pillows underneath him. He watched as you put on the harness, working the straps of it over your thighs and hips as you secured it into place. He licked his lips as you tightened it, watching how it clung to you so perfectly. You gently got on the bed, the mattress having enough give to shift Xavier on it as he looked at you with so much want in his eyes.

You crawled over until you were between Xavier’s legs and tapped them then smiled as you saw Xavier eagerly opening his legs so you’d have better access. His cock laid heavy between them, dripping onto the mattress as your hand took it, pumping it twice before laying it on his stomach.. The popping noise of the lube cap opening sounded so loud in the room as you poured some over your hand; Xavier watched as you smeared some of the viscous liquid onto the artificial cock.. Those same fingers that were making him fall apart minutes ago now pressed against his entrance.

“Is this okay?” You murmured, pressing a finger inside of him. It was an easy glide and soon the second joined it as you scissored him. You were careful not to press against his prostate again, your only goal was to get lube inside of him so the cock would be comfortably nestled in his warmth.

He let out a loud moan, feeling how you began working him open some more. He nodded in reply, his jaw open in pleasure and you stopped your movements and looked at him, “Use your words,” you instructed, “You know how much I love hearing your voice,”

Xavier swallowed thickly before nodding, “Y-yes, it’s okay…” he trailed off once he felt your fingers moving inside of him. It didn’t take much with your previous ministrations and you took your fingers out, stroking your strap as Xavier’s eyes flew down to you, trying to relax in anticipation of being fucked.

You pressed the head of the strap against his hole, teasing him as you put just a little bit of pressure and allowing the tip inside. Xavier looked up at you with pleading eyes; they looked almost wet with unshed tears and you couldn’t help but smirk at how docile he appeared to be in the moment. He claimed he wasn’t some sweet and innocent bunny, but it took barely any coaxing to get him to this point of being needy. Sure sometimes he was capable of flipping you over the couch and fucking you dumb, but he was just as willing to be on his back like this.

“Please don’t tease me,” he managed to mutter, his cute flush crossing his cheeks as he stared up at you. He looked so fucked out already and you hadn’t even put it in yet. You felt your entire body getting a bit warmer, licking your lips as you decided to give him what he wanted.

“Of course, my love, you know I’ll give you anything when you ask me like that,” The toy easily began sliding into his waiting hole, his entire body lax under your touch as you bottomed out in him. You heard him letting out a keening whine as you adjusted, the tip of it no doubt grazing his prostate as you intended You wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping it again and without warning you began thrusting hard.

Xavier’s legs were quick to wrap around your waist at the feeling , locking his ankles around your back as he let out a loud and needy moan. Small curses escaping his mouth at feeling how fast you began fucking him, how your slick hand wrapped around his cock and worked him at the same pace as the strap.

It only came as a small surprise when you watched his cock twitch before splatters of cum painted his abs and your hand. It had happened so fast that you don’t even think Xavier was able to comprehend that he came immediately, the sensations being too much in such a short timespan that he let out a broken whimper as you worked him through it.

“Fuck…” you moaned out, seeing how easily he came, his cock still twitching as you didn’t let up your pace. Xavier’s arms were clutching at the pillows near his head, his back arched off the mattress as you continued fucking him at a fast pace. He felt like he was going to break as tears slid down his cheeks at the near painful feeling of your hand jerking him off.

Your hips worked against Xavier, thrusting into him at a brutal pace as the room filled with the slapping noises and Xavier’s small sobs. You wanted to see him become a complete and utter mess and you were so damn close to it. Xavier made the realization at what you were after after he started to come down from his high. His body felt like a livewire, already coming three times within maybe half an hour.

His entire body jostled with every thrust and he was absolutely whining now, babbling about it being too much as the strap hit his prostate with every thrust. His head was thrown back as he tried squirming away, his hands still grasping the sheets underneath him like a life line as the material scrunched up and almost tore from the grip. He couldn’t stop the pathetic whimpering noises that flew out of his mouth, every thrust punching the air right out of his lungs.

“Ah-ah-hah p-please mhn-hah…” hearing him moaning your name like it was the gospel as his cock leaked, his own cum being smeared over his stomach as you pressed his dick onto it. You used his own stomach and your hand to create more friction as you worked him perfectly to the same tune of your thrusts.

His mind instantly went to mush at the sensation, short circuiting as the only thing his brain could focus on was the pleasure coursing through him. He didn’t even think he had anything left to give as tears streaming out, his mouth opened as he let out sobs that he couldn’t contain. You could feel his cock twitching and his body responded like you’d come to expect when he came, but instead of cum leaking from the tip there was only a drizzle of clear fluid as he had a mostly dry orgasm.

He couldn’t even speak at this point, his entire mind clouded and as much as you wanted to keep fucking him, you knew he was spent. He was panting and crying and damn he couldn’t even cum anymore at this point. You let go of his poor cock, watching as it dropped onto his stomach as you let out gentle coos, your hands rubbing his hips gently as you tried getting him to come back to you.

Still you couldn’t help but tease him a little more, those blue eyes seemed a little far off but they were still staring at you helplessly. You slowly took the strap out, watching as he let out a whine or protest that he probably didn’t even realize came out of his mouth. You smirked, rubbing his thighs now, “Good job, Xavier, did such a good job,” you said as you adjusted yourself. You leaned in, your tongue now licking a strip up his abs and collecting his fluid. Xavier shifted, letting out a few cute noises at the slight tickling feeling which turned into a sharp gasp. 

Your mouth wrapped around the tip of his cock, giving it a harsh suck as you cleaned it up. You didn’t remain there for long, popping off after a second. You just wanted to see him twitch from the sensitivity not actually work him towards another orgasm. With Xavier being somewhat clean you worked the harness off your body and tossed it to the ground of the room. It could be cleaned later, but for now your beautiful bunny needed you.

His legs had long since fallen from around your waist as you grabbed at his upper thighs, moving his body with you as you laid him on his side. You leaned up and gave him a quick kiss that he couldn’t even respond properly to. Instead of trying to get him to talk. You began pressing kisses on his forehead and cheeks, “Such a good boy for me, Xavie,” you murmured against him, smiling at how cute he looked. It took a couple of minutes before he seemed ready to respond, his eyes now tired and red.

“You good, Xavier?” you murmured as you adjusted him so he was securely wrapped up with you. His arms were around your waist and he dragged you closer to his chest, nuzzling his face into your shoulder.

“Ya…” he muttered out, making you smirk. He seemed to finally be coming back to his senses which meant he was going to be extra cuddly, probably not letting you go for the entire night.

“Alright good…you know I still need to clean you up,” you pointed out and Xavier’s grip on you tightened, holding you like a stuffed animal. It seemed like your observation was right, you were going to be trapped here. You let out a small sigh as you readily accepted your fate, your hands wrapping around him and relaxing into his body. He didn’t even get a chance to say anything else as his body fell into a gentle sleep, completely spent from the activities.

I would like to apologize if there's any typos in here. I really wanted to get this out before work but there's literally almost 8k words here and there's no way I'd be able to finish rereading the entire thing.

[vanillesuiker]

A mind blowing job (Percy Weasley/fem reader)

Tags: smut, blowjobs, lingerie, overworked Percy Weasley and just general deviousness >:)

A/N: hehe freaky. This was written for my oc, but I edited for an x reader experience. So it might not be the most neutral, but I tried!

Also, some Freaky art drawn by the lovely @bastaardsuiker !! It's not very... risque. So hopefully tumblr won't kill me idk how this works.

This is my first time posting fic on Tumblr (HI!), so if there's something I could do differently in terms of formatting and stuff, please tell me!

Alright now get freaky!

｡ ₊°༺ ☾✶༻°₊ ｡

“I'm almost done, I promise.”

She sighed, staring at the ceiling. Laying in Percy's bed all day while he sat at his desk working on reports for the ministry wasn't exactly what she had planned for today. He was supposed to have a day off, and it was just perfect timing, she just picked up a custom order from a little shop in Diagon Alley. She had planned to change into it quickly when he was clearing his desk up, but at this point it was hard to tell if he would ever get to that.

Instead of showing him what she bought (and hopefully enjoying how much he liked it), she had spent the day helping Molly clean the chicken coop, sitting at a garden table gossiping with Bill and Charlie, and listening in fascination with Arthur to Harry talking about mundane muggle things. And all this time, Percy was just writing away in his room.

The sound of his quill scratching against the parchment was like nails on chalkboard, his quiet muttering while he wrote becoming increasingly frustrating. She felt like a ghost, he seemed to barely notice she was there. Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. A devious little idea.

She'd just have to make him remember she was here.

Without trying to be quiet (he wouldn't look anyway, clearly a report on who the responsibility of owl dropping falls to when owls deliver post was more important), she got off the bed, grabbing the brown paper package. Inside was a bundle of dark purple lace, with black ribbons and trims. 

Semi hidden behind a tall, crooked wardrobe, she changed out of her jeans (a new addition that her friends had insisted she looked good in) and Percy's jumper, slipping on the purple dress. It was short, cinching right under her breasts and flowing out from there, and almost completely see through.

She sneaks up behind him, resting her hands on his shoulders. He barely reacts, his quill pausing for only a split second before he continues writing. She leans over, head resting on his shoulder as her hands trail down across his chest. Now he freezes, ink dripping from the quill.

“Almost done?” She whispers, kissing right under his jaw.

“... Almost, I promise.”

She groans, moving her hands back to massage his shoulders. He sighs in response, dropping his quill.

“I've promised that a lot today, haven't I?” Percy mumbles, closing his eyes and letting his head tip back. He looked tired, exhausted even, and suddenly she wasn't angry at him.

Well, maybe a little bit angry at him. But mostly at the ministry, for overworking him so much.

The bags under his eyes were noticeable, his shoulders were so tense, his hair was messy and he somehow still looked so good. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, earning a soft smile from him.

“It was supposed to be your day off today, remember?” Her hands drop from his shoulders again, shamelessly feeling his chest through his dress shirt. “I had plans, Percy.”

He opened his eyes at that, his look of confusion quickly turning into disappointment at himself when he caught just a glimpse of the purple fabric.

“Is that new?”

“Yes, I told you I got something new.” She walks around the chair, and he instinctively pushes it back, making space for her.

“Looks good.” He wanted to hit himself for being so plain about it, but his brain was just fried. She sat down in his lap, straddling him with her hands interlocked behind his neck as she pressed kisses along his jawline.

“You should take a break.” She whispered in his ear, popping one of the buttons of his shirt open. It breaks him, and he finally kisses her.

It's so desperate, from the way he kisses her to the way his hands cling onto her. The entire time he was working, he was so focused on that stupid report that he didn't even realise how tired he was, let alone how badly he needed this. But as soon as her hands made contact with his shoulders, he suddenly couldn't think of anything else.

She opens another button, and then another, kissing down from his jaw to his neck, leaving a trail of red marks down to his chest. Manicured nails rake across his back and he just can't stand it anymore.

With the strength that only desperate Percy has, he picked her up, accidentally knocking against the desk. Something falls over, but he doesn't care, too focused on getting them both to his bed, her giggles muffled by his kiss.

On the bed, she quickly climbs back on top of him, unbuttoning the last buttons of his shirt. Sitting up on her knees, her eyes trail across his body, seemingly not satisfied with the buttons she hadn't undone yet. Before he realised what she was doing, the button of his trousers was popped open, completing her collection.

“Wait…” He whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You don't have to do anything, I was kind of a dick today.”

“My love is unconditional, Percy.” She said proudly, tugging at his pants. “And I want to do this, now lift your hips before I Evanesco these.”

Who was he to refuse that?

All he could do was lay there, watching as she kissed up his thigh, and he almost vanished his boxers himself with how long she was taking. She finally pulled them down, and he was quick to lift his hips again.

For a moment, she just stared at him, hands gripping his thighs. He wasn't sure if he wanted to look away, slightly embarrassed at how easily he got excited by her, but the look on her face was one he'd think about for months from now.

She wraps one hand around him, slowly stroking him while the other hand slid underneath his tank top. His eyes screw shut, giving her the perfect opportunity to take him into her mouth.

He jolts up, hands digging into the mattress as she slowly bobbed her head up and down. His breathing is ragged and his face is completely flushed, the hickeys she sucked into his neck already starting to colour purple. A whimper escapes his lips when she swirls her tongue right around his tip.

She looks at him, a sparkle in her eyes that he knew too well at this point, and slaps a hand over his mouth as she speeds up. A warm hand pushes his hips firmly against the mattress, the other wrapped around him tightly.

“Fuck…” Percy hisses, tilting his head back. “...I don't think I'll… I won't last much longer…”

She only seems to take his warning as a sign to do more, hollowing her cheeks out as she sucks harder. He's already a moaning, sweaty mess, propped up on one elbow as every curse word he ever held in fell from his lips.

His hips struggle against her hand and his teeth dig into his lip as he tries to stop himself from alerting the entire house of his orgasm. He half expects her to pull away, but she just takes as much of him in as possible, continuing to suck him off until he collapsed onto the bed, weakly tugging at her hair to get her mouth off him.

“Please don't stop, I'm so- fuck, I love you, just don't stop, just-”

With what little strength he has left, he glances at her. Her hair is messed up, one of the straps of her dress hangs off her shoulder, and her lips are red and puffy, something white dripping down from her bottom lip.

“Merlin, I think you've killed me.” Percy mumbles, summoning a cup of water from his desk to her with a lazy wave of his wand.

He lays on his bed motionless, too overstimulated to notice the people outside of his room until the door swings open.

“Guys, mum says we're gonna have dinner outsi- Oh my God that's disgusting!” George makes a grossed out face, turning away from half naked Percy and the literal cum dripping from her mouth.

“I'm so telling mum!” Fred stands in the doorway for just a second longer before slamming the door shut and running down the stairs.

“I wish you could've actually killed me.” Percy groans.

She swishes some water around in her mouth, making a grossed out face when she swallows.

“Yuck, you need to drink less coffee.” She sticks her tongue out, setting the cup down. “And your mum is absolutely going to kill us when the fucking chastity squad reports us.”

Percy chuckles a little, too fucked out to really process the consequences. She lays down next to him, nuzzling her face into his neck. It's a peaceful moment, almost picture perfect if it wasn't for the messed up bed and Percy’s pants on the floor. The cracked open window lets in the calm sounds of the countryside, like the wind rustling the grass and the yells of his brothers who just heard what the twins walked into.

“They were doing WHAT?”

[aticklishpercivalwriter]

What Are you Hiding There, My Bee~? (fic)

For Artists Who See Their Art on My Fics Link to Full Art: (credits go to @lyrieeeee) Sethos/Scaramouche

Summary: During a picnic, Scaramouche discovers that Sethos has a back window and takes full advantage of it :P

A/N: This is the first fic of a series of SethoScara fics I have planned out. A total of three (maybe more) including this one. Though, you can consider My Honey ♡ My Bee as part one establishing their relationship. Inspiration for this fic comes from this artwork along with this submission from @vaporized-dimsum. I hope you all enjoy reading this one! It was very fun for me to write it! Though the title of this fic was hard to create :( Also, proud to say I typed 51% of this while I was on vacation on my iPod Touch 2nd Generation ;) One last thing, be sure to complete the poll at the end to have a say where Scara should be tickled. It is time for Sethos to get revenge~

Word Count: 2561 Also on AO3!

—

Sethos and Scaramouche were having a picnic. Scara initially refused but eventually gave in because of Sethos’ persistence. So here he was, running his fingers through his lover’s hair and feeling the soft strands.

“Having fun over there, honey~” Sethos teased.

Are you having fun with my hat, annoying bee?” Scara huffed.

“Aw, still sulky about having a picnic with me?”

“You are so annoying.”

Wanderer refused to admit that he was actually enjoying this mundane activity of a picnic.

“Lighten up. Here,” the leader of the Temple of Silence set down Scara’s hat and turned around, handing him one of the cooked dishes he packed. “You haven’t eaten yet. Try my signature dish. I know you’ll like it.”

“And what makes you think I’ll like your cooking?” he asked, dropping Sethos’ hair in annoyed disappointment. Why do I like his hair so much?

“Because I only make the best of the best for my boyfriend!~”

“Tch,” he felt his face start to heat up and grabbed the food from Sethos’ hands to hide his incoming blush.

“Stop saying words like that,” he mumbled, taking a bite from his boyfriend’s cooking.

Oh shit. It’s good.

The former god’s eyes widened in disbelief at the explosion of tastes hitting him as he took another bite.

“So, you like it?”

“It’s really-” he was about to compliment him, but he saw the smug look in his eyes.

“Actually, it’s really terrible.”

“Now, now love~” Sethos singsonged. “I know you’re lying. I saw the look in your eyes~”

“You saw nothing.”

“What about that bite you just took?”

“That was for your pride, so it won’t take a hit.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, Wan,” Sethos laughed and leaned on him.

“Hmph,” he grumbled.

Sethos dropped his teasing and went to grab and admire his lover's hat instead. Laying on his belly, his long locks covering his entire back.

“What’s your deal with my hat anyway?” Scara asked, ignoring the craving to just comb his fingers through his bee’s hair.

“It’s so cool! The patterns, ornaments, and accessories are so detailed!”

“If you want it, you can take it.”

“Really?!”

Sethos giddily grinned, putting his lover’s hat on with a cheeky smirk as he faced him.

“You want to use my hat as an umbrella?” Sethos imitated him.

“That’s not how-”

“The fucking audacity to make that request.”

Sethos burst out laughing and fell forward into Scara's lap.

“That’s not how I sound like,” Scara glared at him.

“Noho, that is hohow you sound lihike.”

Sethos continued to laugh, making Scara’s hat fall off and parting his long locks. Scara’s eyes widened when he saw a sliver of skin shine in the sunlight.

“I didn’t know you had a back window,” he reached out in awe. “Why do you even-”

“HYAHAHA!”

He jolted in his lover’s lap, letting out a bright shrill of laughter, distinct from his laughing right before.

“That was…uh…” Sethos’ eyes darted up towards his lover who had a hint of mischief running through his eyes.

“What are you hiding there, my bee~?”

“Eek! I-I gotta head out now. Haha! N-Need to run some errands so bye!”

Sethos made a run for it, activating his Electro powers. Wanderer just watched him, slowly getting up and picking up his hat. A shit-eating grin grew on his face. It hasn’t even been a week since he tickled Sethos, but he has been craving to hear his delicious laughter and just get his hands on him.

“Get back here, little bee~”

Sethos felt shivers travel down his spine as he heard those words and ran even faster. He saw Wanderer’s shadow in front of him and went into panic mode.

“I’m getting closer, love~,” he heard from above.

“N-No you’re nohohot!” he squeaked out, reversing his direction to throw his pursuer off.

But he knows he’s winning a losing battle. The sounds of Wanderer’s clothing becoming louder with each passing second.

Scara was having the time of his life making Sethos let out little squeaks and giggles trying to run away from him. He also had a great view of his physique and his muscular arms. The way the sweat made his skin glisten and- What am I thinking!? He shook his head and eyed his prize, the back window. His lover’s hair swayed back and forth, his back window coming in and out of view as if teasing Scara.

“Dumb little bee,” he huffed to himself.

By now, he was right on top of Sethos and smirked devilishly.

“Coming down~”

Sethos didn’t have time to react as he was tackled down to the ground from above.

“Oof! Hon- Whoa-whoa-whoaah!”

Sethos lost his footing and Wanderer managed to shield his head in his arms right before they started tumbling down the hill. Thankfully it was a grassy hill as they rolled and rolled until they reached the bottom.

“Ugh,” Sethos groaned, face down in the grass as he turned his face to the side once he felt Scara get off him. “At least it wasn’t saAHAHAHA-!”

Sethos let out a shriek as he felt a finger scratch the patch of skin exposed on his back.

“MoCHIHIhi!” He tried raising himself but immediately felt his lover straddle him and a sudden squeeze on his sides. “EYAHAHAHA!”

His hands gave out and his body shook with laughter as Wanderer scribbled his fingers over his back.

“Ihihi dihihidn’t eheheven dohoho ahahanythihihing! Why ahaham ihihi gehehetihing tihihickled?”

“Oh, you did do something, little bee,” he said, grazing his fingers against his clothed shoulder blades. Eheheheek!

Wanderer couldn’t help but chuckle at Sethos’ reactions. He’s cute when he laughs and giggles like this.

“Whahat dihihid ihihi- WAHAHAIT!” Sethos yelped when he felt Scara lift up his clothing, exposing his back to the warm breeze. “Hohonehehey! Dohohon’t dohoho ihihit! Plehehease!

“Do what?”

“Tihihihickle mehehe! Whahat elSEHEHE- NOHOHOHAHAHA!”

“I thought you would never ask~”

His devious lover smirked as he now properly tickled his back. His fingers scribbled over the ticklish real estate.

“WAHAHA! T-ThAHAt’s NOHOHOT waHAHAt I MEAhaHANT!”

“You said, ‘Tickle me,’ didn’t you? What else am I supposed to do, not tickle you? You asked for it, little bee~” Scara smirked, planting kisses on the ticklish skin as his fingers trailed down his spine.

Sethos shook his head in ticklish mirth, grass falling out of his hair as he tried to reach behind him to fend off Scara’s fingers but to no avail.

“Youhu arEHEHE usIHIHing myhy wohohords aga- AHAHAHA! ahahagainst MEHEHE, MOCHIHIHI!”

He scoffed, “Since you care so much about words, try to spell what I’m writing then.”

He slid his fingers meticulously across his lover’s back, focusing on his shoulder blades.

“AHAHAHA!” Sethos screeched. “IHIHI’M NOHOHOT REHEHEHADY!”

“Wrong answer~” Scara grinned, squeezing his side.

“NAHAHA! OkaHAHAY! OkAHay! Uhh, ehehe! ‘L’ Ahaha! ‘O-’ GAHAHA! NOHOHO!” Sethos let out a loud laugh when Scara traced the third letter on his spine.

“You want to give up?”

“NEHEHEVER! ‘VehEHEHE!’”

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you~”

“‘VEHEHE!’ ’V!’ aHAHand ‘EHEHE!’ ‘E!’ MOCHIHIHI!”

“And it spells?”

“LOHOHOHOVE!”

“Wha-”

“LOVE! LOHOHOVE! LOVEHEHE!”

Scara’s hands stilled in surprise, not expecting him to answer correctly.

“Yeah,” he said, continuing his onslaught of scribbles. Hehehey! Ihihihi answerehehed correhehectly! “How about this one?” he asked, ignoring his lover’s protests.

He increased the pressure of his writing and instead of letters, he started drawing a few shapes.

“WHAhahat arehehe thOHOSE!? ThOHose areHEhen’t WOHOHORDS! AHAHAHA!”

“Well, use letters to create a word to name them. Shouldn’t be too hard since you are a master spelling bee, aren’t you~?” Scara knows he is being cruel, but he can’t help but want to take victory in this game.

Sethos had tears of mirth threatening to fall but that wasn’t going to make him back down from the challenge. He tried to focus, focusing on his lover’s fingers. How they know their way to make him laugh and draw out the reactions they want.

“NOHOHOHOT THAHAHAT FOHOCUS!” he pounded his fists into the ground as a guffaw of laughter left his lips.

His lover just raised an eyebrow in amusement, fluttering the feather on his vision in place of his fingers and enjoying the way his back repeatedly arched up and down.

Ticklish shocks ran through Sethos’ body, but he wasn’t ready to give up. He focused once again, visualizing the shapes that Scara was tracing on his back. A circle, ahahaha! He’s merciless! Nehehe, a heart. And…a zig-zag? Heheahaha! Darn, my ticklish back!

“Ahaha! A ciRIHIcleHE! CIRCLEHE! HEART! AHAHAHAND! ZIHIHIG-ZAHAHAG! ZIG-ZAHAG!”

Scara was yet again surprised, more so than last time.

Shit, he is really good at this. Tch, I’ll just need to trick him then. Use his ability to my advantage.

“Dihihid Ihihi wihihin?” Sethos giggled, a hint of smugness laced in his voice.

“You are a cocky, little bee,” Scara dug into the back of his ribs in punishment.

“HAHAHAHA! WAHAHAHA! I’M SOHOHOHRRY! I’M SORREHEHEY! I’M SAHAHAHARRY! NAHAHAHA!”

Scara roughly tickled him for a couple more minutes before letting up.

“Nohoho mohohore, plehehease!”

“Serves you right.”

Scara placed his hands on his lover’s back once more, making him yelp in surprise.

“Mohohore?” he whined.

“Mhm,” Scara hummed. “You guess this right, you win.”

Scara traced Sethos’ back more lightly this time, almost like a caress. Sethos happily giggled, his head resting on his arm as he turned to the side with a carefree smile on his face.

“Thihihis ihihis prehehetty nihihice, ehehe.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Scara said, tracing down his spine.

He twitched in Scara’s hold in surprise. “AHAHahaHA! OhHOHo rigHIhigHT!”

Scara snorted and started tracing the letters again.

“’Tehehe’ ‘Ihi’ uhuhum ‘C’ ‘KehHEHE’ ‘L-Ehehe’ ahahAHA! ‘M’ ‘Ehe!’”

“And what does that spell?” A smug expression crossed Scara’s face as he continued his soft tracing.

“Ahahahaehehe! ‘Tihihickle Mehe!’”

“Come again, little bee~” Scara teased, stopping his tracing.

“Tickle Me!”

A beat passed before Sethos’ eyes widened like saucers in realization and he turned to look at him.

“Honey. You are so eHEHEVIHIHIL! NAHAHAHA!”

He shoved his face back into his arm as Scara ruthlessly scribbled his fingers on his skin.

“I honestly can’t believe you fell for it twice, my ticklish bee~”

“YOUHUHUHU WEHEHEHERE DIHIHISTRAHACTING MEHEHE! I-I COHOHOULDN’T THI- AHAHAHAHA! THINK!”

“Doesn’t change the fact you still said it,” he stuck out his tongue at him even though he couldn’t see him.

“MOCHIHIHI!” he shrieked when he felt him target the spot where his back window would be if his clothing were not lifted up. “YOUHUHU PLAHAHAYED DIHIHIRTY!”

“How could I have played dirty? You correctly said the two words I was drawing, and you won.”

“WEHEHELL, HAHAHAHA! Y-YOUHUHU STIHIHILL PLAHAHAYED DIHIHIRTY! THIHIHIS IHIHIS YOUR EXCUSEHE TOHOHO TIHIHICKLE MEHEHEHE! YOUHU JUHUST COUHULDN’T ACCEHEPT THE FAHACT I WAS BEHEATING YOUHU AT YOUR OHOWN GAHAME! AHAM IHIHI RIGHIT?”

The tickling suddenly stopped and Sethos gulped in some much-needed air. He took the time to catch his breath and regain his energy. A few minutes passed of him just panting and the wind brushing the blades of grass around them. It was then that Sethos realized that Wanderer, who was still on top of him, wasn’t saying anything.

“Lov-Ow!”

Scara suddenly shifted forward and nipped at his ear.

“What was-”

“You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you?” Scara directly whispered into his ear making him shudder. His voice was much deeper and threatening, making Sethos gulp in nervousness.

"You want to see how I really play dirty?”

Sethos could hear the smirk in his voice, and he felt butterflies in his stomach. Whether they were from excitement or fear or even both, he didn’t know. He tried to speak but no words came out.

“Where is all that bravado now, my bee?”

Scara grabbed Sethos’ chin and turned his head towards him. Sethos saw the look in his lover’s eyes and audibly gulped, heart pounding in his chest. Scara's violet eyes shined with hunger and that smirk turned into a devilish grin when he saw his reaction.

“I have one word for you,” he leaned even closer to him, making him squirm in his hold. “Raspberries.”

Before Sethos could even process what he said, he immediately succumbed to laughter with Scara blowing raspberry after raspberry on his back.

“BWAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHAHA! HOHOHON- AHAHAHAHA! PLE- HAHAHAHA!” Sethos couldn’t even finish his words as Wanderer mercilessly wrecked him with raspberries.

“Pfft!” His spine.

“NAHAHAHAHA!”

“PfFFTt!” His shoulder blades.

“GAHAHAHAHA!”

“PFFFFTTT!” His back window.

“BWAHAHAHAHA!”

And to make matters worse for him, he started drilling his fingers into his sides and armpits along with scribbles on the back of his ribs.

“EYAHAHAHAHA!”

Sethos was in hysterics as he pounded the ground with his fists and kicked his legs out.

“SCA- AHAHAHAHAHA! SCAHAHAHA- HAHAHAHA! SCAHAHAHARAHAHAHA!”

“That is my name, ticklish bee.”

“STAHAHAHAHAHAP! I-I’M GONNA DIEHEHEHE! AHAHAHAHAHA!

“Apologize.”

“I-I CAHAHAHAN’T- GAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“Guess you chose death.”

“NOHOHOHO! WAI- AHAHA! WAHAHAHAIT! OKAHAHAHAY! I-I’M SOHOHOHORRY FOHOHOR SAHAHAYING THOHOHOSE THIHIHINGS TOHOHOHO YOUHUHU!”

“Hmm.”

“WHAHAHAHAT EHEHEHELSE DO YOUHUHU WAHAHAHANT MEHEHEHE TOHOHOHO- BWAHAHAHA! NOHOHOT THEHEHERE! STAHAHAHAP!”

“Beg.”

“WAHAHAHAHAT?”

“Plead for it, nicely.”

“AHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHO WAHAHAHAY! snort D-DOHOHOHOHON’T- GAHAHAHAHAHA! snort”

“I’m waiting~”

“N-NEHEHEHEVER! Y-YOU- snort NAHAHAHA W-WOHOHON'T GEHEHET IHIHIT OHOUT OHOF MEHEHE!"

"Oh, you're going to wish you never said those words. Laugh before me, my ticklish bee~"

Scara mustered all the breath he could take before letting out the biggest and loudest raspberry he could right on poor Sethos' back window and repeating it over and over all while spidering his fingers all over the rest of his back. The last of Sethos' defense came tumbling down soon after.

"GAHAHAHAHA! snort NONONOHOHOHO! FINE! snort FHIHIHINE! WAHAHAHANDEHEHE! STAHAHAHAP! PLEHEHEHEASE! snort SCAHAHAHAHARA! MYHYHY BELOHOHOVED HOHOHONEHEY! I’M BEHEHEHEGGING YOUHUHU! snort BWAHAHAHAHA! IHIHIT’S TOHOHOHOO MUHUHUHCH! snort PLEHEHEASE! HAHAHAVE MEHEHEHERCY! MEHEHERCEHEHEHEY!”

Oh my archons, he is so adorable.

Scara smiled endearingly at him, at last giving him mercy. He trailed little kisses and raspberries from his back to his neck and eventually turned him over onto his back and went in for a slow, sensual kiss which Sethos immediately melted into.

“Mmm~ Scaraah~ mmph~”

“Mm~ Sethohh~ Hahh~”

They made out for a few minutes, combing their fingers through each other’s hair and exploring each other’s mouths before pulling away. Breathless, they stared at one another taking in each other’s flushed face before Sethos started giggling.

“Your tickling was ruthless!” Sethos managed to say in between giggles.

“But you liked it~”

Sethos looked away blushing but didn’t deny it.

Wanderer chuckled, lifting himself up and picking Sethos up bridal style.

“Let’s finish our picnic.”

“Oh, when did you become such a romantic?~ Ack! Sohohorry!”

“If you don’t shut up, I won’t do this again.”

He was blushing and looking straight ahead as he went up the hill. Sethos glanced at him before closing his eyes in exhaustion with an understanding smile on his face.

“I love you, honey.”

A smile tugged at Scara’s lips.

“I love you too, bee.”

Sethos fell asleep in his arms soon after and curled in towards his chest. He shook his head fondly.

“Let’s go home instead.”

He silently called upon the Aranara to pack up their things and that he’d pick them up later. After thanking them, he set off towards their home and he looked back down at Sethos’ sleeping form. He smiled lovingly at him and planted a kiss on his temple.

“Sleep well, my lovely, ticklish bee.”

—

Thank you for reading! :) -Perz ~Risus Amoris~

Google Form Link!

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

I don't know if you ever received this ask or had this idea before but here goes nothing Since Ghost already met Jade's family, what if she meets his? ....angst material. Sorry not sorry.

Oh my God... Anon... You sparked something in me, and I cannot go to sleep now without posting this. Thank you so much for the idea.

(I think I'm gonna make a full on comic out of this, and I will make an art at some point for this fic, but let's use this lovely GIF of Ghost first)

She's The One

Jade meets Ghost's family.

Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x Charlotte “Jade” Le Jardin (OC) Word Count : ~ 1.8k words Warning : Medium to heavy angst and mentions of death, but ends with a full on fluff because you know me mate I want Ghost to be happy ok.

Title and story inspired by the song 'She's The One' by Robbie Williams

"...How's your family, Simon?" 

Jade asked Ghost. They had been having a small outing, which included watching the cinema together and going around the streetside shops to find new wardrobes for Ghost to wear. He initially thought that it was unnecessary, but as Jade insisted, he went anyway – as long as he could spend his off-duty time with her.  

He'd met her parents, and though he was apprehensive about it at first, they turned out to be pleasant and strong people. It was such an unfamiliar feeling for him, to have a family to come home to, a supportive family and kind and can take care of their own. He's foreign to that concept.

Ghost just stayed silent to her question, his expression which was usually unreadable turned sorrowful, his eyes gazing down at the pavements they walked. She thought she should change the subject before Ghost muttered,

"You want to see them now?" 

Jade opened her eyes wide in surprise, not expecting him to say anything about meeting his family this fast, and the way he said 'now'...

The woman knew Ghost wouldn't ask her that question if he was adamant as he was a straightforward person. And so, she answered, "Of course, if you don't mind it." He then proceeded to enter his car that was parked not far from where they just watched a movie in a cinema, not forgetting to open the passenger door for Jade beforehand. 

They drove for a full 30 minutes of silence, save for the sound soft songs on the radio. As Ghost drove, Jade looked out the window and understood that they were going to a familiar place that she had passed by a few times in her life. He drove to the nearest available parking area, parking his car flawlessly before stopping the car engine, leaving the both of them in complete silence. 

Jade felt the atmosphere around him grow heavy, his hands still on the steering wheel as if he was still pondering whether or not he wanted to get out of the car. He let out a soft sigh, took his keys and got out of the car. Jade got out of her own and looked at the surrounding area.

Cemetery.

The sun had disappeared behind the heavy grey clouds that constantly covered the England skies. Tiny drops of water had touched her cheek, in such a way it reflected Ghost's inner thoughts right now. 

The man looked at her, "Over here." He walked with Jade following right behind him. After about 10 minutes of walking and treading through the tall grasses, Ghost stopped in front of a group of gravestones, four of them, which were placed more tightly together than the other. The grasses were tidily short, a sign that the keepers attended to these graves properly.

Jade then looked down, reading the engravings on the stones, and her heart shattered to pieces.

"Susan Riley, November 17th, 1965 - December 24th, 2017"

"Thomas Riley, July 21st, 1990 - December 24th, 2017"

"Elizabeth Riley, May 8th, 1991 - December 24th, 2017"

"Joseph Riley, March 19th, 2013 - December 24th, 2017"

It was his mother's birthday. 

She looked up to find Ghost's eyes gazing down at the names as well, noticing that the ground he was standing on was right at the front of his mother's grave. No tears in sight, only sadness, and as an MI6 agent of two decades, she could deduce an expression of regret. Jade didn't need to wonder why, as the dates of their deaths were all the same - the reason he hid his identity, lived as no one, avoided any relationship with anyone, and the reason why he was adamant about meeting her parents – His past came to haunt, and it's target was not him. 

Jade couldn't say anything. What could she say? That she's sorry this happened? She knew Ghost hated that phrase the most, of someone pitying him, that they wished things could be different. But what use is it to wish? It happened. His entire family died because something happened during one of his missions, and his family paid the price for it.

As if on cue, she heard a small sniff from him the same second the raindrops started to grow more frequent, falling harder, creating white noises and wet spots on their clothes. Being the Londoner she was, knowing that sunny days were never really sunny, Jade fished out her floral purple umbrella, holding it above Ghost's head beside her, making sure to cover his broad shoulders fully as her left shoulder grew wet. 

She saw his face, and it was enough reason to stay silent and let him grieve. She didn't know if this was the first time he'd visited their graves after years or if he always come here at some time every year, but no matter which one the answer was, if she could see one thing, it was that his tears never seemed to run out, even after years.

Jade let him cry, the sound of his sobs completely drowned by the white noises of the heavy rain. 

She knew that he wasn't a big fan of any physical touch, nonetheless, she lifted her other hand softly and rubbed at his back, going up and down in an attempt to soothe his sorrow. And after a minute of him not flinching away from her touch, Jade mustered up her will to slowly encircle her arm around his own on his side, their sides touching as she rubbed his bicep, and going even further as she leaned her head to touch his shoulder. 

Ghost's shoulder still shook for a few minutes as he cried his heart out, Jade kept doing what she did as he let his sorrow out. 

Soon after, another surprise hit her when she heard and saw that the rain started to slow down, albeit still going down on both of them. Her other arm started to grow sore after moments of holding the umbrella high to accommodate his height, yet what alleviated the pain was the fact that she felt a small weight on her head, realizing that Ghost had eased his cries, now only soft sniffs, and that he leaned his head on top of hers as well.

He still stayed silent, not a word spoken ever since they arrived, but she knew that this was a good sign that he knew that she would be there for him, even when he was vulnerable.

"Happy birthday, Mrs. Riley." 

Jade muttered softly, the man beside her still looking down on his mother's grave even though he was slightly dazed at her words. 

"This is our first meeting, but I can tell that you were a kind person, and an even more amazing mother and grandmother."

He then glanced at Jade as she continued, "Your son is a very skilled and intelligent man, traits which I assume he got from you. He's confident, a great leader-- oh! And he's handsome as well, so that's a plus." 

That prompted a scoff out of his mouth. Nevertheless, she went on. "He's not much of a social person. He's a little bit intense and stiff - We can work on that. He shot my hand once! I have the scar to prove it. His choices of words are sometimes foul, though, again, we could always work on that." Jade joked lightheartedly, seeing him softly smile above her.

"But if there's one thing about him that I love, is that he's a strong man with a warm heart, and I don't have to assume to know that he got it from you." Jade continued. "Your son is the strongest man I know, and I will stop at nothing to protect him and make him happy."

Ghost looked down at her, astounded at her words. "Thank you for bringing him into this world. Happy birthday, Mrs. Riley." 

As she finished her message, Jade looked up with a soft smile, "I'll be sure to bring some flowers the next time we visit, and every year after that." 

She thought he was going to say something, until the arm that was intertwined with hers moved, though nervously, gliding across her back and found its home on Jade's shoulder, before lightly pressing and pulling her towards him. Jade blushed, not only at the warmth of his body but also at the fact that he initiated the touch. 

"Thank you, Lottie." He muttered in his deep voice, "So much." 

"Anytime, Love." 

After about 15 minutes of standing in front of the graves, the rain had stopped, and the sun showed up to light the rest of the day as the sky turned orange. Jade had stored the wet umbrella back in its container and hung it on her wrist before she walked back to the car per his request. Jade figured he wanted some alone time with his family, and so she obliged.

"How's she, Mum? She's a beautiful bird, isn't she?" 

Ghost finally spoke, his hands tucked inside his pockets. He then glanced at his brother's grave, smirking. "What about you, Tommy? You think she's the one?" He asked no one, not expecting any answer anyway, yet he just wanted to let it out.

"I thought I'm gonna bite the dust on some fucking rathole somewhere, and that was what I wished at some point, but..." Ghost sighed, shifting his weight on his hip, "I kind of want to die an old man, after living my life to the fullest with her-- Fuck, I can't believe I'm saying this." Ghost chuckled at his own words, not expecting it to be this heartfelt. "I'm arse over tit for her. Yeah, you're gonna laugh at me for this Tommy, but at least I didn't laugh when you said the same thing about Beth." 

"And Mum, knowing you, I think you'd like her. She's a bit like you, in a way." Ghost confessed, still eyeing her name on her gravestone, "She cares too much. In a good way, and I find it endearing." He suddenly recalled the memories he had with Jade, from the first moment they met to this moment, replaying them over and over and being surprised about how much she reminded him of his mother. 

"I want to protect her with all my life. I love her, Mum."

And with that, a burden on his shoulders felt like no more. He'd never said those words to anyone, and he might be insane to be in love with someone considering how he'd lived his life, but he'd made a promise to protect her, and if he'd be a fool, then a fool he would become.

"Anyway, she's waiting back there, and I'm hungry. So I'm going to leave you now." Ghost then stood up straight, his hands still in his pockets. He glanced at every single one of the gravestones, before looking at his mother's.

"Happy birthday, Mum." 

-----

(All of the Riley's birthdays are entirely made-up. Their date of death was also made up, but I remembered there were something with Christmas, so I'll just place December 24th to make my heart hurt more) ಥ_ಥ

Anyway, thank you for reading, and hope you love this! (❁´◡`❁)

[porcelainseashore]

Teenage Headache Dreams (1)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: High School! College! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Fem! Reader

Summary: You’re a bored, but ambitious high school student who can’t wait to escape small town life and make it in the big city. You thought you had it all figured out, until you unwittingly befriend the resident golden boy, Leon. A series of events beginning from junior year to college until Resident Evil 2 Remake.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Ambiguous/Open Ending

Content: High School AU, College AU, Pre-Resident Evil 2, Fluff, Romance, Cliche, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Lack of Communication

Author's Note: This is my first RE / Leon fic, but I wanted to try my hand at writing this little self-indulgent and potentially clichéd series. As you can guess, I love dance and high school dramas. I also created this with a sequel in mind, which will take place post-RE4R and involve more horror and mystery elements.

Title from Teenage Headache Dreams by Mura Masa and Ellie Rowsell / Wolf Alice.

AO3 Link

Chapter 1: An Unexpected Friendship

It was one of those beautiful late summer days with endless light and clear blue skies overhead. You leaned back against the bleachers, feeling the sun cast a warm glow on your face and the sultry breeze against your skin, sighing in utter bliss. The football field and the running track surrounding it were completely empty, just how you liked it, silent except for the relentless trilling of insects and the occasional bird that flew by. No one in your face, no one judging you or telling you how you should be like, no one you had to put up a front for. Just peace and quiet. A place where you could sit alone with your thoughts - and you had a lot of them - mostly about leaving this goddamn small town with its insular, mind-numbing inhabitants.

A trail of thick smoke wafted from your mouth as you took a drag from the joint you had been nursing for awhile. You weren’t exactly high as a kite, but you were definitely feeling some of its effects. You chuckled and gave a wry smile as the thought of being caught red-handed visualized in your mind. Sure, it was highly illegal what you were doing, much less on school property, but you were always a bit of a rebel. And frankly, you couldn’t give a shit. It was already August, but most students were still away on holiday. Not you though, you had to work on your extracurriculars. That’s what you had put your mind to this summer. No fancy beach getaways like the rest of your cheerleading mates had jetted off to. Just a grueling dance intensive and showcase you had auditioned successfully for in one of the larger cities nearby, as well as a bunch of campus visits. You needed to perfect your performance technique for that arts college application coming up in about a year’s time. You started way earlier than the rest even thought about it, because you knew you only had one chance for a one-way ticket out of this hole and you sure as hell weren’t taking any chances. Well, except with that funky smelling thing in your hand. 

No one would be here anyway, it’s a Sunday for crying out loud! You shook your head in exasperation. Besides, you needed to relax and take the edge off a little.

Just as if you jinxed it with those thoughts, you heard the gate to the field unlocking and creaking open behind you. 

Shit, shit, shit! Your eyes darted around frantically, but your movements were just so slow. Why the fuck would someone be here now?

Before you could drop the joint and stub it out with your shoe, a mop of dirty blonde hair and what you made out as someone dressed in a blue tracksuit with a duffel bag slung over his right shoulder entered your peripheral vision. It was soon accompanied by a sharp twist of his head in your direction, bangs falling over his deep blue eyes and you knew he had found the source of the offending smell, probably even from a mile away. His gaze trailed their way from your startled face to your joint hanging limply at the edge of your fingers and then back to your face again. His expression turned from confusion to a frown and then into a knowing smirk as he crossed his arms and leaned against the bleachers.

“Oh, hello. Didn’t expect to see you here. You got cheer practice or something?”

God, he was teasing you. At least you hoped that was all it was and not some form of blackmail. Well, no point hiding now.

“I’m off-duty,” you retorted. You tried to jog your memory of the boy standing in front of you. You were social, or at least you had to be with the rest of your girlfriends to keep up appearances, but you never really bothered with the people here beyond superficial conversations. Then you finally found it - a vague recollection of last season’s track and field meet. He had been one of the better sprinters, maybe the best even, you can’t really remember. There was an afterparty, and you congratulated him, but you doubt there was anything more substantive than that.

“Leon, isn’t it?”

His eyes perked up slightly and he smiled. “In the flesh.”

You snorted at his cheesy reply. What was he pulling? 

“They gave you the key?” It almost sounded as if you were jealous.

He uncrossed his arms and placed his duffel bag on one of the benches in front of him, rummaging through its contents. “Yeah, I got a comp in the new term coming up.” Every now and then he glanced up at you, as if he wanted to ask something, but stopped himself.

A sense of boldness surged within you, as you felt like evening the odds a bit. “What? You want some?” You waved the joint in his face.

That certainly caught his attention. He stared for a good moment, before giving another one of his playful smiles and shaking his head. “Maybe after practice.” He unzipped his jacket and put it away. It was warm enough to train in his sports tank and as you admired the lean, muscular structure of his arms and shoulders now bared open, you couldn’t complain.

“So, how did you get in?”

Fuck. You snapped out of your reverie. He got you there, but you didn’t feel like lying. “Jumped the fence. You should try it some time.” You replied as nonchalantly as possible.

“Didn’t know you had it in you,” he laughed.

“Oh, you’d be surprised.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Will I now?” The way it rolled off his tongue felt like a challenge and you secretly enjoyed this banter going on between you, as if you had known each other for years.

Shrugging your shoulders, you took another hit from the joint and let the calmness envelope you. “I never disappoint.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Leon flashed a wide grin that made you feel a knot forming in your stomach, but you didn’t know why. 

He started to move towards the tracks, but stopped short, turning back to meet your eyes again. “Look, you don’t have to worry about all of that.” He gestured to what you were holding and the general surroundings. “I’m not going to tell.” With that, he made a sign that resembled crossing his heart. “It’ll be between you and me.” 

You would have thought it was a joke if not for the sincere look he gave you, before heading off to train. That, and the fact that he did indeed take up your offer to join you afterwards in sharing what was left of the joint. You didn’t expect someone like him to. He seemed a bit too much of a straight-laced, golden boy for that. But then again, life was filled with surprises and you quietly scolded yourself for playing into stereotypes again - something you despise others doing to you.

It prompted both of you to converse even more until the late evening where you even missed your dinner. The questions and responses just flowed.

It turned out that you would share a number of classes together in the new term, specifically Math, History and Biology. Leon was a real earful when it came to his “insightful” one-liners on the teachers, which made you bury your head in your hands and groan. You never realized he would be such a goofball, but you found it somewhat endearing.

Like you, he was popular at school, but unlike you, he seemed to enjoy the company and appeared to be an open book. He would say it how it is, sometimes to the point of being blunt to a fault. Still, you guessed people found him rather easy-going and likable, in a non-threatening sort of a way. A part you wondered if chance meetings like today were how he made most of his friends.

Leon didn’t really have a plan for college yet. He just knew he wanted to do something good and help other people. You had a word for it - “idealistic”. He just shrugged in response, eyes downcast, until you assured him that it was an admirable quality, and you were the jaded one. He made a toast to your future in some arts college in the big city with his water bottle, remarking with a hint of self-deprecation that he wished he had a clearer idea of what he wanted to do with his life.

In turn, he asked you about your dealer. You had to stifle a laugh at that one. Generally, you weren’t as big into smoking up as he thought, but this time you bummed it off one of the seniors as a favor he owed you for hooking him up with one of your cheerleader friends. It didn’t stop Leon from calling you the “high school’s little pothead” every now and then though. He peered at you intently with his lip curled in amusement, as you rolled your eyes each time.

It had been such a long time since you could joke and speak your mind with someone this way. There wasn’t that suffocating nausea of pretending to be someone else around him and he had been so relaxed with you too. You could finally breathe again, and you’d like to think it wasn’t just the weed talking.

Whatever it was, you guessed this was the beginning of a real friendship - one that happened out of serendipity, but made you feel like you weren’t going to rot away in this small town. Well, not alone anyway.

[rip-quizilla]

Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 5

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: Everything is falling- leaves from the trees, rain from the sky, you for Eddie, and Eddie for you.

Word Count: 10.1 K

A/N: Big thanks to @the-unforgivenn (happy birthday❤️) for all of the help you gave me on this chapter, and honestly this whole fic in general. You've been an invaluable part of the writing process of this story, and the fact that you care so much about Eddie & Ace just makes me feel so loved... you don't even know. Ily wifey✨

Thank you @vintagehellfire for your priceless tattoo knowledge- I hope I did you proud!!

Also thanks to @blueywrites for helping me decide on what Eddie would tattoo on reader back in our Tumblr DMs in June😂 y'all that's how long I've had this scene in my brain. This part of the story has been a long time coming.

Divider was created by the lovely and talented @hellfire--cult❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Part 5

Fall, 1983

“Rick, are you serious, man?”

“Dead serious, I’ll sell it to you for twenty.”

You caught the tail end of their conversation as you approached the red plastic picnic table in Forest Hills trailer park. Today was the first day of fall, and while it may not have felt like biting cold and crunchy leaves yet, it did feel like flannels tied around waists and long-dead grass that broke beneath the soles of your shoes. You hopped up onto the surface of the table, swinging your feet around to rest beside Eddie where he sat on the bench. 

“Sell what?” you asked, producing three cans of Coke from your bag that you’d brought from home and handing one to each of the boys. Rick had grown accustomed to your presence since the spring, so he actually cracked a smile when he answered your question and nodded in thanks as he accepted the can.

“Munson wants to buy my old tattoo gun.”

Your jaw dropped. “Wait, seriously?” you asked Eddie.

He didn’t take his eyes off Rick. “And I’m wondering what the catch is if you’re selling it to me for so cheap.” 

You cracked open your can of soda with a hiss, joining Eddie in his Rick stare-down. “Hmm,” you mused, “I bet he forgot to clean it and it’s staph-infested.”

“Nope,” Rick popped the ‘p’ after taking a swig from his shiny red can. “Never been used, so I can guarantee it’s staph-free. Always meant to use it, but after that brush with the cops I had last month, I don’t want to risk having it.”

You narrowed your eyes at Eddie, trying to discern whether or not he’d thought about the fact that if he bought it, then he would be in possession of paraphernalia for illegal Indiana activities. 

Then again, you knew he smoked weed and that was most definitely against the law as well, and he hadn’t been caught yet. You trusted him not to be stupid enough to get arrested.

You turned your line of questioning on Eddie. “Why on earth do you need a tattoo gun anyway?”

“Well you see, Ace-” Eddie lifted one of your feet up from the bench, straightening your leg and presenting your right shoe- your white converse, half covered in mythical creatures and random doodles that Eddie had slowly been adding to with his fine-tipped Sharpie ever since you’d bought them in early August. “-it seems that I need a canvas for my art, and it won’t be long before I run out of shoe.” 

You quirked an eyebrow. “So now people are the canvas?” 

Eddie held up his arms, bare skin nearly translucent in the afternoon sun. His nearly-too-small Iron Maiden tee showcased just how much bare skin he had to spare along the contours of his limbs. “If by people you mean me, then yeah.” 

“You’re going to tattoo yourself?”

“Yep!”

“Without practicing on someone else first?”

Eddie smirked, “You volunteering?”

You rolled your eyes, but for some odd reason the idea stuck. You decided to play along. 

“Let’s say I am, what would the tattoo be?” 

Eddie hadn’t anticipated this answer. He was so surprised, in fact, that he choked on the soda that he’d just sipped into his mouth before your question. In a cacophony of coughs and wheezes, Eddie managed to regain his composure as you smiled wryly, feeling as though you’d bested him somehow in some small way. To fluster him with something as small as this, something he hadn’t expected. 

“You’re serious? You want a tattoo?” Eddie responded skeptically, before turning away from you to fiddle with his soda can still held in his hands. 

You shrugged, as if he were asking if you wanted a pizza, not a permanent brand inked on your skin. “Why not? I think I’d look pretty badass with a tattoo.” 

You weren’t sure what was making you feel so bold today, but you had a feeling it might be related to the thought of Eddie covered in ink that wound up and down his skin that was making you ache to touch it when it was still naked and peach-pale. You scooched a couple inches down the tabletop to the left, placing your seat directly behind Eddie’s neck. 

Then, in a stroke of something between bravery, stupidity, and need, you carefully slung your legs over Eddie’s shoulders so that they sat in the bends of your knees.

It was a simple gesture- familiar, even. You made a point to lean back a little, bracing your hands behind you on the tabletop so that the apex of your thighs stayed a good distance from the back of Eddie’s neck. You felt Eddie’s shoulders stiffen, each muscle under your jeans tensing for a moment before relaxing into the closeness. 

Then Eddie brought his hands to your ankles, his fingertips brushing the spare skin between your high tops and the cuffs of your jeans. The pads of his thumbs barely caressed the skin but they felt like a kiss- a thing coveted and then forbidden, then coveted even more. 

His touch drifted over your legs, warm hands coming to rest over your shins and squeeze, heating the denim that separated his skin from yours. You were holding your breath. You’d been so confident a second ago yet here he was, knocking the very air from your lungs. 

You waited anxiously for him to say something; if he didn’t you were sure you were going to do something stupid. Something that would involve more of his skin on your skin.

“Would you want this tattoo of yours to show?” Eddie asked at last, breaking the silence between the two of you- well, the three of you. Rick was still there, taking in the sight before him with a smirk on his face. 

“Not easily, my parents would kill me.” you said, ensuring that your tone of voice was nonchalant, casual. “But I don’t see the harm in something small that I could hide.” 

Eddie tilted his head back and up, earthen eyes flicking up to yours. “What happened to ‘looking badass’?”

You pursed your lips as you leaned forward, bringing your faces to hover parallel over each other. “You’re saying that taking my pants off to reveal a surprise tatty isn’t badass?”

You watched as Eddie’s eyes flashed darker for a split second- nearly imperceptibly so- before his lips stretched sinfully into a mischievous grin. “Oh, under the pants then, huh?” 

His hands traced higher, ghosting on your knees and burning his fingerprints through your jeans. 

“Easy to hide,” you said, struggling to keep your voice even. “It’s a practical placement.”

Eddie’s thumbs stroked absentminded circles into the flesh of your lower thighs, tight denim puckering with the motion. “Practical placement…” he murmured, low enough that it sounded like he hadn’t even meant to say it out loud. 

“You could put it on your hip.”

Both of your heads whipped around to focus on Rick, who was grinning at both of you like he’d just discovered a fun new game to play. He shrugged, hopping up to sit beside you on the tabletop. “You want it to be hidden all of the time, right?” he leaned to shove you congenially with his shoulder. “When’s a good girl like you gonna be showing off some hip? I bet the only one who’ll see that will already be married to you when he lays eyes on-”

“Hey!” you interjected. “You act like I’m some prude, I’m not a nun.” Rolling your eyes, you looked back down at Eddie hoping to meet his gaze and laugh together over how ridiculous Rick was being. However, you looked down only to find Eddie’s chocolate browns trained on Rick with wide-eyed warning. A silent message was clearly being exchanged, but it wasn’t for you.

Rick was smiling smugly down at Eddie, unbeknownst to you, and Eddie was getting the message loud and clear:

It’s time to raise the stakes, kid. 

“Perfect!” Rick chirped, smug eyes still trained on Eddie’s. “So you wouldn’t mind letting Eddie use your hip as his, uh… canvas, then?”

If Eddie’s looks could kill, Rick would be a dead man. 

“Yeah.” you choked out, refusing to give yourself time to chicken out of what you’d gotten yourself into. “Yeah, why not?”

Rainy days in autumn just felt right.

Sure, you were in Latin class. Sure, you were supposed to be working on a packet the substitute teacher had just passed out. However, it was raining outside. The sub was easygoing enough that she hadn’t made a move to stop Eddie from doodling on your shoe that was perched comfortably on the crook of his hip. 

You sat behind him in every class you had together- there were four of them this year- and Eddie had gotten into the habit of reaching back to tap you on the leg whenever he knew he was losing focus. Every time he tapped, you would carefully stretch your leg forward until his hand caught on your ankle, lifting it up until it rested on his lap. His sharpie would go to work on whatever blank spots he could still find on your white converse, and the mindless activity of his drawing would keep his mind awake enough to listen as teachers droned on and on. 

The change in Eddie wasn’t lost on his teachers- they had all noticed the impact that your company seemed to have on him, and it was the only reason why they hadn’t had any issues with your constant companionship. When you were around, Eddie actually paid attention in his classes and turned in work- that was good enough for them.

The silence of the classroom and the soundtrack of rainfall beating against the roof and windows had created the perfect work zone for you, and your focus on your classwork was only interrupted when you noticed a folded piece of torn notebook paper on the edge of your desk. 

Smirking as you felt Eddie continue doodling on your shoe, you unfolded the paper and read the slanted scrawl that you’d come to recognize instantly as Eddie’s handwriting. 

Were you serious about the tattoo thing? It’s OK if you’re not.

Your cheeks heated, contemplating whether you were still serious about it or not. The only fears you had about it were completely logical- Eddie had literally no clue what he was doing. Yours would only be his second tattoo after his own. Worst case scenario, the tattoo would get infected and you go to the hospital. Eddie gets arrested for tattooing without a medical license. Best case scenario… you get to sit there while he grips your naked thigh for as long as it takes to leave a permanent reminder of him on your hip. 

You blinked a couple of times, letting that mental image wash over you, before confidently penning your answer beneath his message. 

I’m serious. 

Folding the scrap of paper and handing it back to him, you felt his Sharpie leave your shoe as he took the note and read it. You watched him register the two words, glance back at you through the loose strands of hair that hung over his shoulder, then smile softly into a shake of his head. A second later, he was handing the note back to you.

If you say so, Ace. What am I tattooing, and where?

You had to think about it for a moment before passing back your answer

Hip is fine. What are you gonna do? We could match.

Eddie’s reply came faster than you’d ever seen him write any of his notes in class, that’s for damn sure.

You want matching tattoos?? Are you sure?

Your heart began to race. Was that bad? Was he judging you for wanting to match him? Maybe you were being too clingy, trying too hard… you glanced down at his jacket, which was wrapped around you almost every day at this point- it was practically a second skin. His handwriting was all over your shoes. You stared at your fingers, scarlet polish chipping from the tips of your nails, and you remembered that you’d chosen red solely because he’d mentioned it was his favorite color. 

Were you coming across as desperate? Were you weirding him out? Maybe you needed to dial it back-

A new piece of paper slid across your desk, Eddie’s eyes glancing your way with nothing but warmth in his gaze before he returned his attention to your shoe on his lap. 

I’m fine with it if you are. 

Putting bats on my forearm. 

You released a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, giving ways for butterflies to take flight inside your chest. You grinned, jotting down your reply beneath his writing. 

I’m more than fine with it. 

Could you do just one little bat on my hip?

Eddie took a little longer this time with his response, and you understood why once you saw the adorably small silhouette of a bat penned in black on the paper he’d passed back to you. 

You leaned forward, letting your chin nearly brush the fabric of his denim jacket as you whispered low enough that the substitute teacher wouldn’t hear. 

“It’s perfect.”

A snicker from the other side of the classroom caught your ear. Eddie and you both turned to see a cluster of letter-jacketed assholes staring at the two of you, whispering and laughing with each other. 

You knew deep down that you didn’t care what they thought. You knew that you should just keep your head down. Ignore them. 

But then you caught the tail end of one of their sentences.

“...fucking freaks.”

Two things happened simultaneously: your eyebrows jumped, and Eddie’s stomach dropped.

The ringing of the bell was all you needed to angrily shove your belongings into your backpack and march over to the other side of the classroom, stopping the jocks in their tracks. Eddie was right behind you, tugging you back by the crook of your elbow as you steadily ignored his pleas to sit down and ignore them, they aren’t worth it.

“You want to repeat what you were saying over there, Alan?” You stared up at the freckled boy, his harsh features sneering down at you from where he stood nearly half a foot taller than you. His height did nothing to deter you, however. Neither did Eddie’s death grip on your arm.

Alan snorted, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the two of you before him. His eyes flicked over you, appraising for about two seconds before directing his attention to Eddie behind you. “You letting your girl pick your fights for you now, Munson?” 

Eddie didn’t have a chance to respond; you didn’t give him one. “Don’t look at him.” you stepped forward, bringing you mere inches from the freckled football star. “I asked you a question.”

Alan and his cronies laughed, apparently amused by the show of dominance you were trying to make. You opened your mouth to berate him further, but the sharp tug on your arm from Eddie was strong enough this time to jerk you away from them and toward the door of the classroom. 

“Wh- Eddie, quit it!” you tried to shake off his grip but it wasn’t going to budge; Eddie marched you out the door and down the hallway like a man on a mission. 

“Yeah, Eddie, quit it!” You both could hear Alan’s patronizing whine from the classroom, his voice thrown into a reedy falsetto that made your blood boil. His voice trailed off, melting into the nasal snickers of his friends.

Eddie didn’t let go of your arm until the two of you reached his locker, at which point he finally looked you in the eye- and his stare embodied an intensity that you hadn’t seen from him ever before. You’d seen him intense, of course… just not like this. 

This looked like fear. 

“What the fuck was that for?” Eddie bit out, his teeth clenched and eyes wide. 

You crossed your arms, suddenly defensive. Had you messed up, somehow? “I… I mean, they were calling us names, I wasn’t going to just sit there.”

“Alan’s an illiterate asshole, you don’t need to explain yourself to him.”

“I know I don’t need to, but…” You chuckled humorlessly, that familiar vengeful feeling from moments ago beginning to bubble back up. “You know what, no. I do need to. I’m not the kind of person who can just sit there while jerks like him run around slandering good people, it’s wrong!”

Eddie huffed, his hands on his hips as he glanced around and shook his head. “Slandering, huh? That’s a big word, Ace. What’s that, the college word of the day?” You raised an eyebrow, watching him closely and curiously. 

He was fidgeting nonstop, repeatedly picking up his feet and replacing them on the floor only an inch or so away from where they’d been before. His eyes darted in every direction, as if scanning for potential threats so that he could run from them before they decided to pounce. 

“Eddie, why are you so afraid of those guys?” 

Big brown eyes widened to saucers, refocusing on you. “This isn’t fear, Ace, it’s just common sense.” Eddie checked over his shoulder to ensure the jocks were gone, then took a step closer. He leaned his shoulder against the locker, lifting his opposite arm to gently place his hand on your upper arm. You shivered, feeling his thumb trace small circles through his own black leather. Maybe that’s why he’s so scared all of a sudden, you pondered, leaning closer to Eddie. He’s given me his armor. 

You lowered your voice, sympathetic to Eddie’s plight. “You know I wouldn’t let them hurt you, Eds.” Looking up into his eyes, you expected to see them soften, gratitude coating his gaze. Instead, they widened and crinkled slightly at the edges. Eddie huffed out a gaudy laugh, incredulous at your admission.

“Hurt me?” he shook his head, stunned, and began to rifle through his locker for the books he needed for next class. “Ace, I just don’t want them to hurt you!”

You balked. “Me?” an eyebrow raised, you crossed your arms over your chest, defensive once again. “You really think they’d hit a girl? They’re jerks but I don’t think they’d go that far-”

“Nah, they’ll only sick their girlfriends on you.” Eddie punctuated his sentence with a slam of his locker door. “Purebred harpies with matching scrunchies who’ll make your life a living hell and then pretend that you’re the crazy one.”

It was a struggle to keep up with him at the rate he was walking, strides each a yard wide as he tugged you along by your hand. 

Your hand. Eddie Munson was holding your hand. 

“You, uh… you speaking from experience?” You stuttered over your words, cheeks heating at the sudden skin-to-skin contact. He had just admitted that he didn’t want to see you get hurt- his blatant protectiveness of you coupled with the way he was decisively dragging you by the hand to your locker right now was nearly too much for you to handle. 

“Trust me,” Eddie sighed, swinging you around as he reached your locker and (to your dismay) letting go of your hand. “You get asked out on a dare enough times, you figure out how their coven operates.” 

Eddie wasn’t meeting your eyes. You had to actually place your hand on his shoulder to capture his gaze. “Eddie,” you said, making a conscious effort to keep your voice steady and be something stable for him to feel at least a little grounded on. “Deep breath.”

Surprisingly, he did as you said. Eddie closed his eyes, inhaling deep and allowing his lungs to fill long enough that his chest expanded before his exhale blew softly on your cheeks. It smelled like the apple you’d brought for him at lunch.

 When you were once again treated to that warm hazelnut gaze, your hand acted without thinking and flew up to gently rest against his jawline. You were crossing some invisible line- you knew that- but the light in the hallway was causing shadows to take up residence in the dusting of whiskers that decorated the sharp incline that led to his chin. Your fingertips brushed his skin reverently, and he seemed frozen. Eddie didn’t dare move; you were like a butterfly that had deigned to land on him of all people, and damn it all if he was going to fuck it up and scare you off. 

“I’ve got you, you’ve got me… right?” Your voice was barely loud enough to be heard through the noise of bustling students. “We look out for each other, Eddie, we’re stronger together.” 

Eddie remained still under your caress, wishing he could focus on your touch. Wishing he could rip his eyes away from where they were trained behind you- held in terrified contact with a sadistic-looking Alan who stood with his cherry-lipsticked girlfriend across the hallway. Alan’s lips were curled into a sneer, watching as the thing that Eddie wanted most became his worst nightmare.

You were openly touching him, while wearing his clothes, standing in shoes covered with his drawings- and Eddie watched in horror as the harpy pushed up on her tiptoes to whisper something in Alan’s ear before both of them refocused not on Eddie, but on you. 

They laughed like fucking heyenas, eyeing their next meal. 

It took every ounce of self control Eddie had, but he gently took your hand in his and lowered it from his cheek. He ignored the way your eyes gazed up at him the same way a scorned puppy begged for some kind of affection, any confirmation that they are, indeed, loved. 

“It’s the together part I’m worried about, Ace.” Eddie whispered, keeping his voice low. 

You were quiet, which Eddie hated because it was his fault.

“Oh, and um-” Eddie raised his shoulders and shivered, rubbing his hands along his upper arms to warm himself with the friction. “-it’s a little chilly today… you mind if I wear the jacket?” His hand drifted down to the flannel that hung loosely tied around your waist, taking a corner of the material and feeling it between the pads of his thumb and forefinger.

“This’ll keep you warm, yeah?” 

You stared blankly for a moment, stunned. You had nearly forgotten that the jacket was his to take. You’d assumed he liked that you always wore his jacket, but… perhaps you’d made that up. You were eager for him to want things like that, after all… ‘more than friends’ kinds of things. However, asking for a borrowed item to be returned was completely normal for friends. You chided yourself for reading too much into it and smiled warmly up at him.

“Yeah! Of course!” you sprung into action, setting your backpack down on the floor as you began to shrug off the jacket. “You’re right it’s frigid in here today.” 

You handed the jacket to Eddie, who donned it with a thin-lipped smile. Parting ways for your next class, you departed in opposite directions down the hallway. 

Upon arriving in your calculus class, you glanced out the window eager to zone out as you watched the rain, only to be greeted by a gray sky drained of its water. The rain’s reprieve left nothing in its wake but a tired sun, soft mist that obscured all surety, and packed Indiana dirt softened to mud too loose for one to find their footing. 

The sort of mud that, should you try to walk through it, you’d be destined to slip and fall. 

When Eddie thought of Halloween, he thought of blood and sugar. 

It was a strange contradiction, the way that Halloween’s association with horror and gore had balanced itself out with candy corn and fun-sized Snickers bars, and yet the juxtaposition of the two brought a smile to his face. The combination of sweet and terrifying embodied the holiday perfectly. On Halloween, there was no need for any kind of steely exterior that might protect him from judgment. No need to hide the way he really feels behind the scary metalhead armor he’d so carefully curated as a defense mechanism. 

On Halloween, he wasn’t just allowed to be a freak. He was celebrated for it. 

On Halloween, he could just be. 

It was the reason why Halloween just so happened to be the day he’d had enough courage to look through your bedroom window exactly four years ago. It’s the day when Hell meets Heaven to make something sweet, and anything can happen.

Anything- including matching tattoos on the floor of his trailer. 

Everything was ready- Eddie had laid out sheets of newspaper to cover what he’d deemed the tattoo zone, and broken down a cardboard box to act as a stable surface on the soft carpet of his bedroom floor. Eddie had scrutinized every instruction he’d been able to wrench from Rick for how to work the tattoo machine. Grips, needles, fucking rubber bands that were apparently very necessary… he’d made sure he had it all. He’d even practiced on an orange that he’d swiped from the kitchen counter.

A thick black cable now snaked across his carpeted floor, connecting the machine to a pedal, the pedal to a power supply, and the power supply to the yellowed plastic outlet on his wall. Beside the machine sat a stack of paper towels and all sorts of other shit Rick had advised him to make sure he used. He was lucky that Rick had bought a bottle of black ink- Eddie wouldn’t have known where to seek out medical-grade ink in a state where it was illegal to ink your skin without a license. 

Your knock at his door made Eddie jump; he wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. It would be easy to write his nerves off as adrenaline before his first tattoo, but who was he kidding- it was you. You’d gone from someone who made him nervous to someone who made him nervous for different reasons, and all of this was very inconvenient for Eddie. 

“Trick or Treat,” You’d chirped when he opened the door, and it was at that moment Eddie realized that this night may very well be the death of him.

You wore your favorite baggy sweater over a tight black tank top, which you’d tucked into some high waisted acid washed jeans. Unsurprisingly, the chucks on which he’d scribbled his claim were fastened securely on your feet. In your hands was a variety pack of halloween candies and a shopping bag from the local drugstore. Everything about you radiated warmth, and Eddie had to fight the urge to change tonight’s itinerary to movies and a blanket fort and spend the whole evening on the couch with you, surrounded by candy wrappers and the light of his television set. 

“I brought antibacterial soap,” you said, bringing Eddie back to reality. You rifled through your shopping bag to show him your spoils as you stepped through the threshold and into his trailer. “-large bandages, and a little travel first aid kit just in case. Oh, and I did a little bit of reading at the library and I couldn’t find much on tattoos, but the one commonality between every book and article I could find said to make sure you wash the wound often and disinfect everything-”

“Ace,” Eddie interrupted, taking the bag from you and closing the front door. The corner of his mouth quirked up, keeping an amused chuckle at bay. “You went to the library to read about how to safely care for an illegal tattoo?” Your expression soured, shifting to a half-scowl, half-pout. 

“Well one of us has got to do it,” you huffed, grabbing the bag and marching towards Eddie’s room. “And I know you wouldn’t set foot in the library unless you were forced.” You continued to yell at him from his room, “You’ll thank me when your kitchen-scratched tattoo doesn’t get infected, and you get to grow old with all of your limbs intact!”

Eddie stayed glued to his spot as his smirk grew into a goofy grin. You were fucking adorable. 

You hadn’t argued when Eddie insisted that he start with his own tattoo- before he got started on permanently marking your skin, he wanted to be sure that he at least had gotten the hang of it first. He immediately started getting to work with his trusty fine-tipped Sharpie, sketching out a scattering of bats on his forearm and glancing every once in a while at his notebook for reference. You’d flipped through that notebook on several occasions when the two of you had sat idle during classes or study sessions. The drawings were always sprawling, sharp and gruesome in a way that wasn’t so much scary as it was fascinating to you. 

You laid stomach-down on his mattress, positioned behind where he sat on the floor, his back leaned up against the bed frame and close enough that you could probably reach down and play with his hair if you were bold enough. You didn’t- no matter how tempting it was, you didn’t want to risk anything that might mess up his focus. You settled for watching Eddie’s reflection in the mirror that sat leaned up against the wall in front of him. 

When the Sharpie stencil had dried and Eddie picked up the tattoo machine, you couldn’t deny the nervous uptake in your heart rate. You watched him gingerly begin the process of permanently inking his drawing into his skin, and before the needle touched skin, Eddie looked over his shoulder at you and winked, whispering a surprisingly shaky “Point of no return.” Before you could ask if he was having second thoughts, he was already outlining the first bat, his socked foot pressing decisively on the pedal that whirred his machine to life. 

Minutes ticked by before you uttered a soft “Does it hurt?” to break the awkward silence. Normally, Eddie had some sort of music playing, Metallica or WASP or something along those lines spinning on his cheap old turntable- but tonight there was nothing but the electric buzz that filled the small bedroom, and it was starting to make you antsy. 

Eddie huffed, and it was as much of a laugh as he could afford while holding still. “Well, Ace, it’s a needle sticking in and out of my arm repeatedly, so if I’m being honest it ain’t exactly sunshine and rainbows.” You watched him wince as he moved on from outlining the first bat and started on the second. 

“Does it at least make you feel a little badass?” You watched his reflection in the mirror glance up through the curtain of his hair and raise an eyebrow at you. 

“That depends,” He said, “do I look badass?” 

“A little.” You teased. “You’ll look more badass when the tattoo is finished.” 

That earned you a snort from him. “What, fifty percent of a tattoo doesn’t cut it?” His reflection flashed you a genuine smile, that lopsided grin affecting you the way it always does, spiking your body temp and rushing the thump of your heart. 

“Nope. Though, if your intention is to tell the world that you have commitment issues-”

“I do not have commitment issues-”

“Then what kind of issues do you have?” 

Eddie parted the needle from his skin, taking a moment to glance wryly over his shoulder in your direction. 

“You.” It was punctuated by a tongue that peeked out from between his lips. You followed suit, shoulders shaking as you chuckled.

Silence threatened to fall for a moment then, but Eddie put a stop to that. “Keep talking.”

“Huh?”

His voice was quiet, muttered like he was biting the inside of his cheek as he spoke. “Hurts less when we’re talking.”

You smiled, watching as he avoided your eye contact in the mirror, focusing on his arm as a subtle blush began to creep onto his cheeks. Tempting as it was to tease, you opted for a more neutral topic.

“Which is better, sour candy or chocolate?”

You could barely see his eyebrows furrow behind his curtain of curls as he considered your question. “Chocolate.”

“You’re crazy.”

He barked out a laugh. “After all the ridiculous shit I’ve said, that’s what crosses the line for you?”

You shook your head, amping up your reaction for his benefit; he was laughing, and it was music to your ears. You were greedy for more of it. 

“Sour candy is a whole experience, chocolate is just sweet! That’s all it has going for it!”

Eddie gawked but kept his eyes trained on his skin. “What do you have against sweets?”

You rolled your eyes, flopping from your stomach to your back and staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling. “I haven’t got anything against sweets… I just like a little tart to go with it. Oh hang on, that reminds me-”

You stuck your hand into the plastic bag you’d brought with you, producing a variety pack of cheap Halloween candies. “Do you normally get trick-or-treaters? I thought we could pour these into a bowl and set it out on the porch- you know, so we don’t have to keep answering the door.”

Eddie Shook his head. “Nah, not a lot of kids who live here. Those who do always high-tail it to the neighborhoods where the good shit is, like-”

“Loch Nora?” you finished, smirking. 

Nodding his approval, Eddie echoed, “Loch Nora.”

“Well in that case,” you yanked open the bag of candy so hard that a few individually wrapped pieces were flung onto the bedspread as well as the floor below. “I guess we’ll have to eat all of this ourselves.”

Eddie paused his tattooing to glance at a fun-sized packet of sour gummy worms that had landed on the carpet beside him. “Gummy worms?” he asked.

You flicked the back of his head while the needle was off his skin. “Uh, yeah, they’re delicious.”

“Did you at least get candy corn?”

You gagged. “Candy corn?!”

The two of you passed the next hour like that, debating about various arbitrary topics and inevitably disagreeing on almost all of them. There were only three things that you both agreed on without any debate whatsoever: Santa Claus was the superior holiday mascot, Joan Jett could easily beat Cyndi Lauper in a fight, and The Empire Strikes Back was way better than A New Hope.

When Eddie was finally finished with his tattoo, you were off the bed in an instant and already reaching for the antibacterial soap. 

“You should wash it under some warm water first before anything gross has a chance to get in there-”

“Hey hey hey, whoa hold on!” Eddie was laughing, eyes wide as he smiled at you. Your hand was already encircled around his wrist, tugging his arm (and the person attached to it) toward the bathroom. “Ace, you haven’t even looked at it yet, c’mon you’re bruising the artist’s ego here.” 

You sighed but couldn’t hide the rueful grin that danced on your pursed lips. Softening your vice like grip on his wrist, you shifted your hands to cradle his forearm and survey the last hour’s work.

“It looks good, Eddie… really good, actually.” You absently swiped a thumb over the soft skin of his wrist. “If you’d told me it was professionally done, I’d totally believe you.”

“Yeah?” He looked up from where your thumb stroked the base of his forearm, eyes shining.

“Yeah,” you smirked. “Of course, I’d tell you to try and get your money back, but-”

“Oh shove it up your ass, Sweet Tart.” The playful shoulder-check had you letting go of his arm, but both of your faces were painted with ear-to-ear smiles. 

Eddie washed his new tattoo in the bathroom sink, admiring the way the bats stretched and shifted with every flex of his forearm. Your mouth hurt, as did the muscles in your cheeks; you couldn’t stop smiling. He was so happy with his work, and you had to admit that he had actually done a really good job with that tattoo machine. 

“We’ve got to get you out of Indiana, Munson,” you murmured to the mirror where he continued to scrutinize his work from every angle. “I think you may have just found your calling.” 

His eyes were wide and shining with pride as they glanced your way. “You think?” 

You nodded, that saccharine smile stubbornly staying put on your lips. To be fair, you didn’t fight it.

“You’re coming with me, then.” Eddie replied, his own smile glowing in the dying light above the bathroom mirror.

There it was- that familiar fire beneath the skin of your cheeks.

“Oh I am, huh?” 

“Hell yeah.” Eddie braced his arm on the doorway, leaning over you until your faces were mere inches apart. “We’re stronger together, remember?”

Breathe. Breathe… Why can’t you breathe?

You’d barely managed a nod before Eddie was ducking around you through the doorway, grabbing your hand, and leading you back to his room. 

“Your turn, Ace.”

Oh yeah, you were also getting a tattoo today. You’d almost forgotten. Were you nervous? You weren’t sure. Actually, yes, you were very nervous- not so much about the tattoo as you were for where the tattoo would be. 

In minutes, you were both sitting on Eddie’s bedroom floor- Eddie readying everything he needed for your new ink, and you sitting eerily still as your soul started to feel like it might leave your body.

“Ace,”

Eyes refocusing, you blinked a few times. “Yeah?”

Eddie’s expression was calm, sympathetic to the inward freak-out he had a feeling you were on the verge of. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

You tried to laugh, but it came out sounding a little more strained than you had intended. “Hah…you saying I have commitment issues?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, but Eddie’s eyebrows stayed knitted together above his big brown eyes. “No,” he murmured. His voice was soft, as if he were speaking to a stray animal and trying not to spook it. “I guess I’m just… trying to give you an out, so you don’t feel pressured or anything.”

You shook your head, “I don’t want an out.”

Eddie blinked, “No?”

“No.”

There was a second of silence between the two of you before you both took in a collective breath, exhaling simultaneously and giggling when you both realized that you were breathing in sync. Perfect harmony; sour and sweet, nervous but willing. 

“You, uh…” Eddie stammered, his eyes flicking down to your lap and back up to your face. “...you still want it on your hip?”

Your heart rate doubled. 

“Um, yeah.” you awkwardly shifted your weight onto your knees, grabbing hold of your waistband and unbuttoning your shorts. You shimmied them over your hips, revealing the rest of your leotard- leotard, Eddie realized. Not a tank top. You were wearing a black leotard. It was almost like the kind that he’d seen ballerinas wear, except it cut so high on your hips that he was sure it wouldn’t be allowed in any of the dance studios he could think of, and….yep. YEP, it was practically a thong. Your ass was out. You were sitting on the floor of his bedroom with your ass out. 

Chill out, Munson! He screamed inwardly at himself, Chill the fuck out!

Of course, you couldn’t tell that there was a war going on between Eddie’s ability to function and the short-circuiting that threatened to render him unable to do anything but stare at you. All you could see was the way his jaw had gone slack and his eyes bugged out of their sockets.

You smiled shyly, a twinge of something between satisfaction and guilt nudging at your heartstrings. “I figured this thing would be less awkward than if I was sitting here in my underwear,” you laughed nervously as you gestured to your leotard.

Eddie gulped. He couldn’t see much of a difference. “Yeah, totally.” 

A beat passed. You grabbed a bag of gummy worms from the floor, tearing it open with a crinkle of the plastic that would not have been so loud if the two of you weren’t dead silent. You bit into the candy where the color changed from pink to blue, then finally muttered through your chewing, “Ready when you are.” 

Eddie blinked rapidly, taking his Sharpie in his hands. “Uh, yeah… yeah, okay.” 

With your free hand, you pointed to the part of your hip where your flesh naturally creased as your thigh met your pelvis. 

“Is here good?”

Eddie gulped. 

“Yeah, that’s good.” But Eddie was very much not good. He was the opposite of good, he felt like he was malfunctioning. When he placed his free hand on your upper thigh, he almost apologized. Why the hell did he feel like he had to apologize? He had no clue. His palms were sweating- did you feel how sweaty his palms were? Oh god. He forgot what a bat looked like- you were trusting his artistic skills enough for him to permanently ink his drawing into your skin and he couldn’t even remember what a goddamn bat looked li- oh, wait, he had them on his own forearm now. Eddie glanced at his arm, reminding himself what a goddamn bat looked like. 

He’s never felt like more of a nervous idiot than right now. 

Meanwhile, you felt like you were about to explode.

His hand was warm. So warm as he grasped your thigh. Whenever he’d touched you before, there was always a barrier, some form of separation between his skin and yours- jeans, a sweater, a flannel. 

A leather jacket.

That’s right- he had taken his jacket back. Maybe you were reading too deep into things, but you had this unshakable feeling that taking back that jacket had been a message. 

We’re just friends. Nothing more.

But if that was true, then why was he looking at your thighs the way he was? Why had he looked at you the way he did when he said you should go with him when he leaves Hawkins? 

He wasn’t your boyfriend… you knew that.

So why couldn’t you shake this undeniably girlfriendish ache in your chest?

“Okay.” Eddie’s voice jolted you out of your downward spiral into your very inconvenient feelings. “Check that out in the mirror, make sure you like it.”

You straightened up, walking on your knees until you faced the mirror leaning against the wall and inspected the tiny, perfect little bat that he’d drawn on the fullest part of your hip.

It matched the bats that now decorated his arm, now surrounded by an angry red halo that bloomed across his skin. Once that bat was inked, it would be something connecting you and Eddie forever- a shared experience, a secret that the two of you would always be in on. 

Suddenly, you realized that in this moment there wasn’t a single thing you wanted more than a matching tattoo with Eddie Munson.

Well, there was one thing. But you had a feeling that wasn’t happening tonight. The tattoo, however…

“I love it.” You looked over your shoulder at Eddie, but his eyes were a little too busy staring at your practically naked behind to meet your gaze. 

“Ahem.”

Breaking free of his trance, Eddie shook his head a tad, which drew a small chuckle from your smirking lips. Eddie couldn’t help but smile too, albeit more shyly than you.

“Distracted?” You teased, unable to hold back your glee at this kind of attention- any kind of attention- from Eddie. 

He sighed, blinking rapidly while he finally met your eyes. There was something new in the way he was looking at you- if you didn’t know better you might call it frustration, but it was an amused sort of frustration. Almost like his eyes were saying “what am I going to do with you?” but through sunglasses tinted with desire. 

You wanted to bottle that, stow it away for emergencies. Wanted to preserve the way that gaze made you feel so that you could experience it over and over again. 

“No.” Eddie murmured through a rueful grin. “Lie down, it’ll be easier to ink the skin while it’s flat.” You did as he instructed, feeling the crinkle of newspaper underneath the skin of your rear. Once again, you found yourself staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling until his face came into view, looking down at you as he readied the tattoo machine. 

“Are you?” You heard him ask. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

The pads of Eddie’s fingers poked and prodded at the skin around where your tattoo would soon have an indefinite spot on your hip, and you wondered if he could tell that your temperature shot up ten degrees each time you felt his hands on you.

“Are you distracted?” he clarified. “Because it hurts less when you’ve got something else to focus on.” 

“Oh.” Suddenly, your mind went blank. Of course, the moment you wanted something to distract you, all ideas turned tail and ran. “Um…”

Snap!

Your jaw dropped as the elastic of your leotard snapped back to your skin from where Eddie had pulled it away with his pointer finger. “Where’d you even get this thing?” 

Now it was your turn to short-circuit.

“Uh-” You stammered, interrupted by the machine beginning to buzz. 

Eddie didn’t wait for you to finish your thought before reminding you what he’d asked. “C’mon, Sweet Tart, where’d you get the leotard?”

You knew he was trying to distract you so you didn’t feel the pain, but you couldn’t help the tensing of your muscles as the needle pierced your skin. You winced, staring at the water stain with a newfound intensity. “Dance store.” you gritted through lips that formed a tight line. 

“Dance store, huh?” You could hear the smile through Eddie’s words. “And why were you in a dance store?”

You huffed out a short, breathy laugh, careful to keep your hip still as Eddie’s needle continued to do its work. “I was making a Flashdance costume. Heard about this Halloween party a few weeks ago, but then we made the tattoo plans… and I had already bought the leotard, so…”

It was disconcerting to speak with Eddie without looking at him; he was a very expressive person, always talking with his hands, always making sure that he looked you in the eyes when you spoke to him. But now he was focused on his work on your hip, leaving your eyes to shift between staring at his ceiling and fluttering closed.

“You were going to wear this thing to a party?” he asked, incredulous. 

Your eyebrows wrinkled over your closed eyes. “I would’ve worn tights under it…” 

He snorted. “That wouldn’t have made a difference.”

You winced, groaning as the needle hit a nerve that particularly stung. “What- ah, shit- what are you trying to say?” 

The buzzing stopped for a moment. “Fuck, you okay?” Eddie’s face leaned into your field of vision, his frizzy brown hair backlit into a halo by the light from the lamp behind him. “You want to take a break?”

You shook your head, taking a mental snapshot of how ethereal he looked like this. “No, you can keep going, I’m fine.” 

Cautiously, Eddie got back to work. A few wordless seconds ticked by before you spoke. 

“What did you mean, ‘that wouldn’t have made a difference’?”

Eddie’s reply was matter-of-fact, but you could have sworn that you heard a hint of protectiveness in his voice when he said, “Tights or no tights, the whole party would have been staring at your ass, Sweet Tart.”

The “T” sound in “Tart” was soft this time. So soft, it was barely there at all, and it almost sounded like he’d just called you sweetheart. If only. You’d give anything to be Eddie’s sweetheart.

Whether he’d meant to blend that consonant or not, it made you brave. “Is that a bad thing?”

A pause. Then, “Is this a trap?”

“Answer the question, would a bunch of people staring at my ass be a bad thing?”

Eddie sighed. “This is definitely a trap,” he muttered, before replying “No, Ace, objectively it would not be a bad thing. But sometimes people view girls differently when they walk around with their asses out.”

“Do you look at me differently when my ass is out?” You were being cheeky, you knew it. 

“No, I don’t look at you differently.” came his instant response, muttered through nearly-closed lips. “I just look at you.”

Nothing could stand against your smile, not even you. “Yeah, that much I could see in the mirror.”

“You don’t sound too upset about that.”

This was different from the flirting you were used to with Eddie. Your regular flavor of flirtation had always been surface-level banter; nothing past a jab here and there, a joke at his expense or a nickname thrown your way. 

Now? You were talking about the way he looked at your body, and the fact that he could tell that you liked when he looked. The two of you were in uncharted territory, and you buzzed under his touch in time with the inky needle at the beautiful unknown of it all. 

“Okay, the outline is done but I’m about to start filling it in.” Eddie warned. “This part hurts a little more. You wanna take a break?”

You nodded. While Eddie jumped up to get you both a glass of water, you sat up on your elbows and peered over at your hip to get a look at your new ink. When you saw it, you gasped so fervently that you startled yourself.

It was perfect. The perfect little bat. 

It wasn’t completely symmetrical. The outline was a tad thicker in certain places than others. But those imperfections made it his. And the fact that it was on your skin made it yours. 

You couldn’t wait to wake up and stare at it like this every single day. 

Eddie returned a moment later with two mismatched cups of tap water. Once you’d both rehydrated, he got to work replacing the needle at the end of the machine with a new one, as well as changing out various attachments and fiddling with a knobby-looking piece until he seemed satisfied with what he’d changed.

 You were impressed with how intensely focused Eddie was on this sort of work; it didn’t seem to be taking him long to get the hang of this. It also didn’t take him long to come up with another topic of conversation that teetered on the line between friendly and flirty.

“Ever played Fuck, Marry, Kill?”

You had not, but the title of the game brought an unexpected chuckle out of you. “Edward Munson, I am a lady! At least take me out to dinner first-”

“I’m going to take that as a no.” Eddie chuckled, and you could hear his deadpan in the tone of his voice. “I say three people’s names and you have to tell me which you’d fuck, which you’d marry, and which you’d kill. Comprende?”

“Uhh-” whatever you’d been about to say was cut short by a harsher buzz than before, accompanied by the aggressive sting of needles on your skin. “Mmh, shit, okay yeah sure let’s play.”

Eddie smiled to himself. He wasn’t sure why he loved the little noises and whispered curses that spilled from your mouth while he tattooed you, but he honestly thought they might be the cutest sounds he’d ever heard. You were taking the pain like a champ- he was actually pretty proud of you in this moment as you remained still through the sting.

“Lars Ulrich, James Hetfield, and Kirk Hammett”

You rolled your eyes. Eddie had ensured over your many rides in his van this summer that every Metallica song he’d played had been an educational experience. Eddie had picked up a cassette of their debut album in July, and ever since he’d become obsessed. Already, he was trying to persuade the other members of his band to figure out how to play The Four Horsemen by ear. 

Needless to say, you knew enough about the band to at least answer the question. 

“Well I’m killing Lars for sure.”

“Poor Lars never stood a chance.”

You grinned, willing the distraction into something great enough to numb the pain. “And I think I’m gonna have to fuck Hetfield.”

“‘Have to fuck Hetfield,’ such a sacrifice.” 

You carefully stretched your arms up to rest above your shoulders, cradling your head on your hands like a pillow. “Hey, if someone’s got to do it, I’ll take one for the team.”

You heard him snort, then after a moment’s quiet he added, “So you’re marrying Kirk Hammett, then?”

“I guess so.”

“What makes Kirk marriage material? Over the other two, I mean.”

You thought about Kirk Hammett’s wild, dark curls. His build. His brown button eyes. The way he looked holding a guitar.

“I don’t know, there’s just something about him.”

Eddie thought about the way he’d been trying to make himself look more like a rockstar ever since he’d first seen the tiny, grainy picture of the Metallica members in the corner of a page of Rolling Stone; he’d been bumming copies off Jeff’s subscription since the seventh grade. How he’d started growing out his hair after seeing Kirk’s long, black mane. He smiled. 

He must be doing something right.

“Alright, Mrs. Hammett,” He quipped, “My turn, hit me with bachelorettes one through three, please.”

You thought over your options, trying to think of women you’d heard him mention before. Wondering if he thought any of them had something in common with you, and praying to God he didn’t kill them.

“Olivia Newton-John,”

Already, Eddie was descending into a fit of giggles. 

“Why are you laughing? She’s pretty!”

Eddie launched into a falsetto rendition of the chorus from Grease’s Hopelessly Devoted to You, and you were instantly fighting the giggles too. 

“Shut up! I’m not done yet. Olivia Newton-John… have you seen Fast Times?”

His response came in a tone of voice that was the vocal equivalent of a side-eye. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I don’t know if you know who Phoebe Cates is.”

“Oh,” Eddie sighed dreamily, “I know who Phoebe Cates is.” 

You rolled your eyes, but chuckled nonetheless. “Okay then- Olivia Newton-John, Phoebe Cates, and Carrie Fisher.”

Eddie barked out a joyous “Ah!” before answering, “Well this is easy, Ace, say goodbye to Newton-John!”

You mock-gasped. “You’re killing Sandy?”

“I’m killing Sandy.”

“That is brutal. She was so innocent, too.”

Eddie squinted at the half-filled tattoo, smirking into his explanation. “Okay, I see the appeal, Ace, I truly do. That outfit at the end is killer.” He paused. Should he say it? Would he be too obvious if he did? 

Ah, fuck it. 

“I’m a sucker for a woman in red shoes, let me tell ya. However-” Eddie quickly glazed over that last sentence, as well as any opening you might have gotten to think about how that might relate to you. “-I’ve gotta fuck Phoebe Cates. Because… y’know-”

“Boobies?” you beat him to the punch.

Eddie confirmed with a matter-of-fact “Boobies.” He glanced up at your face for a moment, curious to see if he could read what you thought of his answers, but you were staring pensively at his ceiling, expression unreadable. “And you have to have known I was marrying Leia the moment she was an option.” 

“You have a thing for Princess Leia?”

“Are you joking?” Eddie asked, incredulously. “How could I not? The woman’s the definition of a spitfire, she kicks ass and takes names. Not to mention, she’s got a thing for scoundrels.” 

You hummed. “Do you think you’re a scoundrel, Eddie?” 

“Well I’m certainly not a scruffy-looking nerf herder, I’ll tell you that much.”

You winced playfully, “A nerf herder you are not… but you are a bit scruffy.”

“You’ve got me there, princess.”

Eddie went silent. The nickname had just slipped out- all this talk of scoundrels and princesses and strong women who weren’t afraid of a fight and before he knew it, he was seeing more similarities between you and Leia than he’d realized were there before. 

Princess had just seemed right. It just slipped out. 

The line between friendship and dangerous territory had been so clearly drawn in Eddie’s mind before tonight. Where had he gone wrong? That once clear line was getting blurry.

Eddie was absolutely convinced that he would probably find a way to single handedly ruin your friendship before he was finished filling in your tattoo- which you would inevitably hate, because it would remind you of the asshole who you used to be friends with before he made things weird between you.

“My turn,” your voice cut through Eddie’s downward spiral, drawing a relieved sigh from him that tickled the skin of your thigh. “Let’s make this round more interesting. Only names of people from Hawkins.”

“Hm, that is interesting.” he mused, the needle inching its way toward the last remaining centimeter of bare skin left within the outline. “Let me think… Chief Hopper-”

You barked out a laugh, “Oh great start, Eds.”

“Chief’s a good looking guy! I don’t know why you’re laughing!” but Eddie was smiling ear to ear, delighted that his awkward apprehension had already begun to dissipate. “Principal Higgins-”

“Are you only going to give me old men as options?”

Eddie was going to do exactly that, because he didn’t want to picture you marrying or- God forbid- fucking any men in Hawkins that you might actually enjoy doing either of those things with. He wasn’t jealous, per se… but none of the shitheads in Hawkins were good enough for you. Eddie wasn’t even good enough for you; not yet, at least. He could picture a future version of himself one day taking his chances with you, once you’d both skipped town and found your way in some thriving city somewhere. 

You were both too good for this place- you were the first person to make him think that about himself.

“What was that security guard’s name at the mall? Average joe looking guy? Quentin? Quincey?”

“Oh, you mean Quinn?”

“Knew his name started with a Q.” Eddie softly bit his bottom lip as he finished the last bit of your bat’s wing. “Hopper, Higgins, and Quinn. Those are your options.”

You groaned. “These choices suck, can I just kill them all?”

“I kinda like it when you go all bloodthirsty, Ace.”

You rolled your eyes before letting them flutter closed. “Ugh, well I’m obviously killing Higgins… he’s never been nice to you and all he cares about are school sports. I guess… I mean if I have to, I’ll fuck Hopper.”

Eddie was beside himself with giggles, “I mean, that’s one way to get out of a speeding ticket.”

“You’re lucky I can’t smack you right now.” You ignored Eddie’s snickering and continued. “And I don’t think I’d mind being married to Quinn, he always smiles at me and asks how my day was. Plus he’s kind of cute, he’s got nice hair.”

Eddie wrinkled his nose. “I don’t see it.”

You laughed, and the jingling tone of your voice suddenly sounded too loud as the buzzing of Eddie’s machine stopped. 

“Alright, Ace,” Eddie announced, leaning back to survey his work. “Check out your new ink.”

You didn’t need to look at it again to know it would be perfect, but you looked anyway. You stood on your sleeping legs and gazed at the little black bat on your hip- it sat beautifully balanced on the skin framed by your high cut leotard, and you knew at once that you’d think of Eddie each time you saw it. This was exactly what you wanted- a daily reminder of exactly how he made you feel, of who he was to you. 

At this moment, it dawned on you exactly what it was that Eddie made you feel. The way you always wanted to be around him, and the way he had become a balloon that inflated your chest every time he made you laugh, and how you knew- just knew- that you’d follow him anywhere if he asked. 

You loved Eddie Munson. You were in love with him. 

And you couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot at that little asymmetrical bat.

Part 6

Taglist: @emma77645 , @rustboxstarr, @josephquinnsfreckles, @rozxartaki, @sheneedsrocknroll92

[acerathia]

drowning in you || Rafayel | Qi Yu

Summary:

Valentinesday doesn't work out, does it?

Wordcount: 2.5k

Read on AO3

Pairing:

Qí Yù | Rafayel / Reader | MC

Tags/CW:

established relationship, dancing and kissing in the rain, flirting, bathing and washing each other, non-sexual intimacy, references(spoilers) to Mainstory and Myth, Moles as lasting kisses from the last life, implied sexual content after fic, domestic fluff

Note:

Happy Valentines!! I wrote this bc I go insane for him oops

With a little smile, you let your phone slide back into your bag. Rafayel has told you to come to the park nearby, and you wonder what he’s planning, hopefully not another trip on a boat, the simple memory makes you shiver. After that incident, you would never trust him with an oar ever again. But because you’re supposed to meet him at the entrance of the park, you assume it must be something slightly drier.

– where r u? ive been waiting for ages

omw! close to the entrance of the park –

You round the last corner, and immediately spot his figure, arms crossed, close to the park. For a moment, you take your time to look at him, the way the sun shines between his hair, giving him some sort of underwater feeling. But you can’t help but squint when you notice his attire, one you have seen before, one Rafayel usually wears when meeting for some art stuff of his. You brush it off, it’s usual for him to wear something that draws the eye, being an artist and all, he does love showing his aesthetic with his clothes.

He seems to have sensed you, because he turns in your direction, and while you smile at him and hurry your steps to get closer to him, his lips push slightly forward.

“Finally, I thought you had forgotten about me! Did you look at the time? It’s been ages, I feel like I’m about to see fish walk on land,” he mutters the moment you stop in front of him.

“Well, I think I already see one,” you grin, before cupping his cheeks carefully. “In fact, this fish is right in front of me.”

The pout doesn’t disappear entirely, but it does soften as he leans closer to your skin. “See? I was right, you’ve left me waiting for too long.”

A huff of breath hits your face softly before he straightens up, not even waiting for your answer as he takes your hand in his, entwining your fingers together. “It doesn’t matter, you’re here now. Let’s go.”

Hand in hand, you both enter the park, and follow the path for quite some time. You have no idea what Rafayel wants to show you, so you only walk by his side, simply enjoying this quality time while looking around the place in peace.

The park seems huge, as before you both even arrived at his set destination, you begin to feel something cold hitting your head. You scrunch your face and look up, only for a drop of water to hit your cheek, your eyelids. You blink in surprise as the rain falls, multiplying with each second, with each step.

A groan, and your gaze immediately flicks to Rafayel, who’s gingerly holding a hand over his head. “Great, now everything is ruined… Did the weather forecast make a mistake? I even checked it for today” He turns to you and meets your eyes. “Let’s go back, c’mon.”

He sighs, disappointment apparent in the way his shoulders slump. “I guess, we’re going to make it up another time… Let’s hurry up and escape this annoying rain.”

You squeeze his hand as you follow his brisk steps into the direction you both came from. “It’s okay, spending time with you is more than enough for me.”

Your words only seem to make him walk faster, the rain hitting your face softly, and you can’t help but slow down slightly.

Laughing, you can’t help but tease him. “But let’s slow down a bit. You’re not going to turn into a mermaid the moment water touches you, are you?”

He turns around to face you, his face scrunched up in a pout. “How ridiculous! That only happens in those TV series. And we’re both already wet, wouldn’t it be too late to consider that anyway?” He cocks his head to the side, before a smug look takes over. “Unless you want me to turn into one to ogle at me, hm? Wouldn’t you like that?” With these words, he leans closer towards you, a grin over his plush lips.

Your eyes flick towards them before returning to his eyes, his lashes clumped and longer with the dripping water. You feel a heat creeping up your neck, and now you’re the one with a small pout on your lips. For a moment, you don’t have any comebacks, so you decide to do what always works the best.

Your free hand grabs his shoulders and you stretch slightly towards him. Your lips meet his. And despite the cold water, his skin is warm against yours. Without missing a beat, his arm sneaks around your waist, pulling you closer, stealing another peck before you could fully pull away.

Once there’s some space between your faces, you can’t help but grin at the redness spreading over the tips of his ears, but you want to see that color over his cheeks. So, you put your lips against his cheeks, closer to his ears.

“Of course I want to see you naked,” you whisper at him, and he immediately pulls away, the color bleeding into the rest of his face.

He holds his hands in front of his face, shielding it from your view. “Wh-what are you talking about?” he stammers, taking a small step back.

You can’t help but think how adorable he looks this flustered, but you stop teasing him, as the rain makes you feel cold, and you imagine he starts feeling the same. Taking his hand once again, you step closer to him and let your forehead rest against his chest.

Almost immediately, despite his embarrassment, his arm winds up against you, his face hot against the skin on your neck. Your other hand comes up to stroke through the wet strands of his hair, now closer to a darker blue when soaked like this.

You don’t know who starts it, but you both begin to slightly rock, a small dance under the rain, interlocked, heart against heart, listening to a tune only you both could hear.

“Let’s go home…” you whisper against his skin, feeling the goosebumps over it.

A sigh on your own skin, and he straightens up, his gaze wandering over your face, filled with something complex, something that warms you despite the cold seeping into your clothes.

Once he nods, you both are on your way again, heading towards the closest apartment of one of you. It doesn’t take long, and you’re glad to be out of the rain, because the moment you enter your home, the rain picks up, the wind sweeping over the streets. You really don’t want to know how it feels to be there.

Soaking wet, you begin to strip yourself of your shoes and socks. “I’m going to take a shower to warm up,” you tell him, and without words he just follows you on your heels.

It’s a burdensome task to get rid of the wet clothes sticking to your skin, but you manage it nonetheless. The heat of the turned on water is already spreading through the air, and you’re almost excited to get under it. With your focus on the upcoming warmth, a squeak of surprise escapes you, when you feel his cold fingers around your waist, his lips against the back of your neck.

You turn your head slightly towards him and kiss the corner of his lips, your fingers intertwining with his, before you fully turn around, your fingers carefully helping him out of his wet clothes, scattering soft kisses here and there over his cold skin. After that, you wordlessly pull him with you to stand under the warm rain of the shower.

For a moment, you let the heat seep into you, relax your muscles, before you grab the shampoo bottle. But instead of slathering it onto your own hair, you motion for him to lean down. Once he does, you put a good portion of the shampoo into his hair, and begin to massage it in, spreading it over his scalp and hair. You watch as he closes his eyes, leaning closer to you.

After you’re thoroughly done, you let him lean his head under the water once again, rinsing the shampoo out of his hair with soft strokes, your hands taking care of each strand, massaging his scalp. Once everything is truly gone, you grab one of your conditioners to take a bit of into your hands, spreading them over your palms before you begin to rub it into the ends of his hair.

A low hum sounds from him and he shuffles a little closer, his hands finding your waist, as always, keeping them there to anchor himself.

Allowing the conditioner to set, you grab his loofa, the one he has deposited ages ago, making himself at home in your home, sharing it with you. Making sure the foam has spread properly all over it, you begin to gently scrub his skin, his shoulders, his arms. You can’t help yourself but scatter some kisses here and there, on his jaw, on his neck.

Coming up to his chest, your eyes lock onto the tiny mole there. “Did you know, some people say that moles are an indication of where our past love has kissed us, over and over again,” you whisper against his skin before kissing the mole softly. “I will love you, for all of my lifetimes, over and over again… And I want to give you something to remember this one, and every one after…”

You’re vaguely aware that you have met Rafayel in your last lifes. And even if your memory is hazy, pieces coming up to you in blurry dreams, you know that you have loved him, and you will continue to love him, for as long as time allows you to exist.

You look up to him, his eyes wide, glazy with swirling emotions. Instead of saying anything, he leans down and catches your lips with his in something sweet, filled with love, of the past, present and future. You melt into his touch, into his warmth, into his steady presence. There isn’t another place you would love to be more than at his side.

For a moment, you let your thoughts focus on him, on the way he calls your name, on the way his ears blush when flustered, on the way he teases you with so much affection.

One last peck, and you continue with your endeavor, gently scrubbing his skin, massaging the tension out of his muscles.

After you make sure that he’s relaxed and clean, you once again guide him towards the water, letting the water glide over his body, warmth seeping into him and relaxing him a bit more. You gently grab his hair and massage all the conditioner away, until all that’s left are his pretty strands of hair.

Your lips meet his forehead, before you turn to take care of your own hair. But before you could even grab the bottle, he does, a bit of the liquid on his palms to slather onto your hair.

With the amount of knowledge he has on you, on your routine and day to day life, he manages to perfectly take care of your hair, his fingers carefully moving on your scalp, caressing the tension there out of your head.

A sigh escapes your lips and this time you’re the one stretching closer towards him, arms around his waist.

Rafayel rinses your hair carefully, each strand flowing through his fingers, and you enjoy each touch of his. Especially when he swipes your hair away to reveal your neck, placing a soft kiss there.

Despite being done, you both stay like this for a moment, his face against your shoulder, your fingers drawing random symbols on his skin, intertwined, skin to skin, warmth to warmth.

Just when you notice your fingers getting prune, do you turn off the water, reaching for the towels to dry up. You pass him his own, and watch as he dabs the water away, before wrapping it around his waist. You begin to feel a little bit warmer when he reaches up to swipe his hair away from his face, running his fingers through the strands, making them stick like that.

You turn around to take care of yourself and leave the bathroom to step into the bedroom, one supposedly belonging to you, yet filled with his trinkets and clothes. You step around some paint brushes clustered on the ground and grab a shirt and other clothes.

Once you put them on, you notice how the shirt belongs to him, something he has left behind after one of his escapades from the journalists. You don’t take it off though, rather you turn towards him as he pulls his pants on, a soft piece of clothing, perfect to sleep in.

His eyes glance up to you, getting stuck on his shirt on you, and you smile as you watch the redness bleeding into his ears, into his cheeks.

He crosses his arms, looking away. “So, you’re now also stealing my clothes now?”

You raise your eyebrows at this. “Uhm, what else have I stolen from you, Rafayel?” you ask, well aware that everything scattered around your place is due to him bringing it over. You can’t say you don’t love seeing his stuff around your place, though. It makes it more livelier, happier.

At your words, he turns around and begins prancing towards you, and you take a step back, your shins hitting the edge of the bed. He leans closer to your face, his eyes running over your face, admiring every single feature of yours, almost like his eyes have landed on an artwork.

You suddenly feel shy under his gaze, so you try to lean back, but when you try to do so, you end up falling onto the bed, sitting on the edge of it.

Instead of letting up, Rafayel puts both his hands on the side of your thighs, supporting himself on the bed to follow you.

“How dare you forget. You have stolen my heart, over and over again,” he whispers against your lips, before dipping in and taking a taste of your lips once again.

A small laugh of yours is drowned by his lips, as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him with you onto the bed. Drops of water fall onto your face from his wet hair, yet you don’t care at all. All that matters is him, Rafayel in your arms and his lips on yours.

With a puff of air, he lands on you, and as the kiss breaks apart for a moment, you take your time to admire his face, the soft lips, his translucent eyes, almost glowing every time he catches your gaze. He doesn’t give you much time, though, before he kisses you again, and again, each kiss making your heart thump with excitement, with all those emotions he manages to awaken in you.

And you’re happy to be the one waking up by his side, spending every lifetime as the person he loves. To be the person who loves him truly in every life.

You can’t help but shudder when his lips move over your jaw to your throat, when he softly murmurs against your skin.

“Let me drown in you…”

[butcherlarry]

Weekly Fic Recs 87

I'm back from the mythical land of Ohio and I have brought with me fic recs! I'm changing up my format for how I make these too, I'll include the author's summary and bit of my own Thoughts and Feelings about said fic.

ALSO for all you Superbat lovers out there, if you are interested in joining a Superbat discord server, might I suggest the Superbat (every)week Server? It was originally for people to shout about their ideas for Superbat Week 2024, but since everyone was having so much fun talking about their favorite blorbos, we are keeping it running indefinitely. It's fun place full of talented people! Fic and art events are created (like Superbat Kinkmas and a winter gift exchange), watch parties for movies and TV shows are hosted (we also did a watch party for the new Superman trailer the day that dropped), as well as various other events (like Superbat PowerPoint Parties). You can also follow @superbateveryweek on Tumblr or on Bluesky

Anyway, on to the fics!

Fears Unfounded by OdosBucket @odos-bucket - Superbat, Batfam, Teen, 3064 words, complete.

Author Summary: Jason hasn’t really witnessed a lot of positive, healthy relationships between the adults in his life. Looking back on it he might be able to acknowledge that he was going to be mistrustful of anyone who was introduced to him as his new guardian’s romantic partner, regardless of who that person was. But at twelve years old all he knows is that he doesn’t like Clark.

Jason being protective of his dad 🥺 (and learning what weirdos people from outside of Gotham are)

Comfort by fishfingersandjellybabies @fishfingersandjellybabies - Superbat, Batfam, General, 1228 words, complete.

Author Summary: In which Damian has a nightmare, and his stepdad takes care of him.

Damian willingly cuddling with Clark. My HEART 😭💖💖

fast break by pomeloquat @pomeloquat - Superbat, Explicit, 6323 words, complete.

Author Summary: Bruce's heat lasts approximately six days — that should be plenty of time for Clark to impregnate him, right? [Five times Bruce and Clark's children stopped them from making a new one, and one time they succeeded.] For Bottom Bruce Wayne October day 7: batfam cockblocking Bruce.

Omegaverse? On my fic rec list? It's more likely than you think! Also, the thought of Clark being cockblocked by Bruce's children amuses me to no end.

(Love) Triangles Have Multiple Centers by frozenpotions @froizetta - Superbat, Teen, 89352 words, wip.

Author Summary: It starts like this. Clark Kent has a hopeless crush on a woman who's out of his league. Bruce Wayne has a newly-acquired kid he feels ill-equipped to raise. Superman is still finding his feet. And Batman has an unshakeable suspicion that Superman surely can't be all that he seems. Things can only get more complicated from there.

SO EXCITED about this fic, it's on the second to last chapter!! I have been thoroughly enjoying the identity shenanigans.

Modern Day Pen-pal Romance by lostinreeverie - Superbat, General, 8937 words, complete.

Author Summary: “Wait, what? You’ve been texting some rando for three—no, four—days?” Clark stuffed an onion ring he stole from her plate into his mouth to avoid responding. Talking to Lois about this felt like opening Pandora’s box. Her shock morphed into intrigue, her eyes narrowing like a predator locking onto its prey. “Four days of texting, and you didn’t mention it until now? This is officially the longest your love life has lasted. Spill.”

Or, Clark accidentally texts the wrong number and strikes a rather unusual friendship

More shenanigans, but in the form of a wrong number. And I love Clark's opinions on phones.

Blood and Honey by RedFive - Superbat, Explicit, 25003 words, wip.

Author Summary: A pod of orphaned killer whales are sinking yachts off the Iberian Peninsula and marine biologist Clark Kent is trying to figure out why their behavior has changed so drastically. Nothing could prepare him for the truth, however, or the strange twists his life was about to take when me meets a merman….named Bruce?

Love me a good merpeople fic and I love mershark Bruce.

Things Turn Out Okay by Anonymous - Superbat, Explicit, 37869 words, wip.

Author Summary: Clark utterly adores his family - Little Dickie is growing more and more by the day, and six-month old Jason is still his perfect baby boy. Bruce is slowly returning to Batman duties, and Clark is happy. Another unplanned pregnancy certainly shakes things up a bit.

Anon, I just want you to know that you are my hero and I would go into battle for you. This fic is also part of a series that everyone should read RIGHT NOW.

I remember the night of the Superbat Kinkmas 2024 by threekingbelt @sisaloofafump - Superbat, Explicit, 16 words, wip.

Author Summary: Fanart fillings of the Superbat (Every)Week 12 Days of Kinkmas Bingo :D

It has been a pleasure and delight to watch Sisa create all this beautiful art. You should all feast your eyes upon it.

Holy Wattpad, Batman! by SolaceInSpace @manufactured-pleasantry - Bruce Wayne, Batfam, Teen, 3356 words, complete.

Author Summary: “—ever touch her again, I’ll make you regret ever being born.” A voice recording of Batman was leaked online. Once again, the internet went too far with it. Once again, Bruce's children suffered for it.

This entire series is perfect and you should all read it. I fucking love it when Bruce has to deal with Internet shenanigans.

straight on by TheResurrectionist @frownyalfred - Bruce Wayne, Unrated, 3250 words, complete.

Author Summary: Batman tries to access the Watchtower without his signature cowl and uniform. Identity shenanigans ensue.

I am a big fan of Res's outsider POV fics, and this one is FANTASTIC. I love Jenna, she is my hero.

6:32 by TheResurrectionist - Batfam, Unrated, 2371 words, complete.

Author Summary: prompt from tumblr: fic idea where for some reason Bruce (as Batman) has to pick up Alfred and Tim from a public event gone wrong in the Batmobile (Tim was poisoned) and it’s not an emergency but speed is of essence and this is, coincidentally, the first time Alfred has been in the Batmobile when it’s actually moving and he gets to see firsthand how absolutely insane Bruce drives without the need to obey speed limits. and Tim’s puking and generally displeased so Alfred spends the whole ride chiding Bruce to slow down, for god’s sake, only for Tim to chime in from the backseat, between heaves, that this is slow for him, Alfred—

Protective dad Bruce and crazy driver Bruce? Sounds like a perfect (and insane) combination.

For Some Desperate Glory by chasingfigments @chasingfigments - Batfam, Teen, 15355 words, wip.

Author Summary: The ringtone lets Bruce know before he’s even pulled the phone out that someone in his family is calling from a civilian line, which—given the current hour—should mean Alfred is calling. The caller ID displays Tim Drake instead. Threads of concern and apprehension coil through him, but it’s possible—something prevented Tim from heading out with Dick tonight. If he were sick, or injured, Alfred would have let him know already, but it’s possible something came up with school or his friends. Dick would be just fine handling a solo night in the Batman suit. There’s no proof that anything is wrong yet. Bruce takes a steady breath and accepts the call. “Hey, Tim,” he says as he unlocks his car. “I’m—” “Sorry,” a mechanized voice cuts in, and Bruce goes still, fingers curled around the driver door handle. “Tim’s not available right now.” -- Or: Instead of taking over the drug trade, Red Hood kidnaps Bruce Wayne.

Oh god, the layers of who knows and doesn't know what is insane and makes for a fun and suspenseful read! I always look forward to this fic's update.

Classical Conditioning by trash_asylum - Logan Howlett/Bruce Wayne, Explicit, 4571 words, complete.

Author Summary: Logan and Bruce play a fun game of cat and mouse or should I say bat and wolverine.

I've been dealing with Poolverine brain rot after watching the Deadpool and Wolverine movie (on top of the Superbat brain rot), so I got SO EXCITED I saw this Logan/Bruce fic. A mash up of my current brain rots (and some favorite blorbos)

Mr. Forgettable by Arwriter @eliemo - Poolverine, Mature, 40523 words, wip.

Author Summary: Wade’s off the couch, moving slowly until he’s standing right in front of Logan. He’s eyeing him carefully, thoughtfully, like he can piece together a solution to whatever the hell is happening right now. “You’re not just doing this so you can get out of buying dinner, are you?" “Fuck you.” Or: Even if he can't quite place his face, Logan doesn't think he could ever forget Wade Wilson.

Every time this fic updates, I have to resist the urge to reread the entire fic because I love it so much (I fail each time, I've reread this fic so much). All the chapters have been from Logan's POV, but the latest one is in Wade's, which was Excellent to read. I am Super Excited for the next update.

The Subtle Art of Giving a Massage by Dorath3xplorer - Poolverine, Explicit, 5318 words, complete.

Author Summary: A minute later, Logan’s hands clutch so tightly at the sheets that his knuckles are turning white. Wade continues to squeeze and wring his muscles, using less skilled but much more powerful techniques just to get a reaction—Logan’s low grunt turns into an almost whine as Wade digs into a particularly sore spot; he does it again, harder, just to be mean, not expecting Logan to whimper, half-pleasure and half-pained as he jerks under Wade. Both of them go still. “Shit, Logan, are you getting off on this?” - Or: Wade asks for a massage, gives a massage, and gets a little more.

I am a big fan of pillow princess Logan. Give that emotionally repressed hairy man a good rub down (and dicking).

In The Midnight Hour by StrawberryNova - Poolverine, Explicit, 21631 words, wip.

Author Summary: "They did not really fuck in the Honda Odyssey, at least, in the conventional sense. The fight itself, that was a cathartic exercise, a release of aggression and hard feelings for both of them. That’s what he told himself, anyway. And what they did after that, it didn’t mean anything. It was barely more than what two teenagers would do on a third date. It was so stupid, so ridiculous, hardly even worth mentioning, let alone remembering over and over and over for three months straight. So why couldn’t he forget it?" or After an intense sexual encounter in the Odyssey, Logan tries to pretend it didn't mean anything. However, slowly, he realizes that maybe there's more to it than that. In the three months they'd been living together, Wade has made Logan feel a lot of things he's never felt before, both in the bedroom and beyond, and things he never thought he'd feel again. It's a getting-together fic fraught with pining, combined with Logan discovering a few kinks he didn't know he had.

I am also a fan about Logan discovering new and excited kinks he enjoys and not knowing what to do or feel about them (but Wade does).

Unexpected Encounters by RogueFroggo - Poolverine, General, 1969 words, complete.

Author Summary: “I expected him to be more…forward,” Scott said, breaking the silence “Especially with you.” “With me?” Jean said teasingly. Scott shrugged, “The other Logan—” “This isn’t our Logan, Scott,” Jean said firmly, “And besides, I think he’s very much interested in someone else…” Scott tilted his head confused, “Who?” Jean gives him a deadpan look, “Seriously? Were we not just in the same room for the past half an hour?” Or; Scott meets Logan for the first time and is kind of expecting him to flirt with his girl but instead this Logan is different and seems to have eyes for someone else.

An excellent outsider POV fic looking at Logan and Wade's relationship. I love how protective they are of each other 🥺

Snowstorm by sundazetales @sundazetales - Poolverine, Explicit, 6950 words, complete.

Author Summary: A snowstorm hits the city, trapping Logan and Wade alone in their apartment without electricity. Cue sharing a bed for warmth, drinking too much whisky, cuddling in candlelight, and…well, you’ll have to read to find out.

I am also stuck in the middle of a snow storm (blizzard warning yayyy), so reading this fic was a no brainer for me. Very cute and sweet 💖

Heat of the Moment by FinelyDressedSpacemen @finelydressedspacemen - Poolverine, Explicit, 11840 words, complete.

Author Summary: “My universe is different than yours,” Logan whispered. “Your biology’s a little different too. Think I’m just having a reaction to whatever that powder was. We didn’t have Interdites where I’m from.” “What, like you’re allergic?” “Sure,” Logan agreed. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe. He could feel the first stirrings inside of him, the first whispers of the need that would overwhelm him within days. .. After a mission gone awry, Logan goes into his first heat in twenty years.

A Poolverine omegaverse fic on my fic rec list?? It's more likely than you think! I am also a big fan of fics where Logan (or Wade) have omegaverse dynamics, but the other doesn't, but still learns how to take care of them during heats (or ruts).

crawl out through the fallout [to my loving arms] by Potrix - Poolverine, Mature, 6520 words, wip.

Author Summary: In Wade’s arms, the bundle starts crying in earnest. “No,” Wade chokes out, shaking his head, “no, I—no, no, no, no—” He puts the bundle down on the floor, stands on trembling legs, and flees. No one stops him. Logan, heart heavy and throat tight, goes to pick up the baby. [5 of his daughter’s firsts Wade misses out on, plus the 1 time he gets his shit together, steps up to the plate, and finally does the right fucking thing.]\

Logan with a cute baby. What more do I have to say? I am looking forward to the Wade interactions with the cute baby too :)

it's all in my head but i want nonfiction by obihoebikenobi @obihoebikenobi - Poolverine, Explicit, 21294 words, complete.

Author Summary: “Happy new year,” Wade murmured, bright reflection from the TV glowing in Logan’s eyes. “Should we kiss?” Logan said back, somewhere in the cacophony of voices and clinking glasses. What? “What?” Wade gasped because what the fuck? What the actual fuck? “What?” Logan asked back, lurching backward a little, clearing his throat, “I just–I thought–sorry.” Sheepish, stuttering Logan was not on Wade’s twenty–twenty-five bingo card, but here he was anyway, nervous fingers trembling against Wade’s thigh for a moment before he took them away. Logan stood haphazardly, placing a warm hand on Wade’s shoulder for just a fraction of a second, “I can wait. Another time. How about a hug?” Wade nodded, standing and shoving his chair back, launching himself into Logan’s hold a bit eagerly for his own liking, but Logan really didn’t need to see the heat rising to his cheeks. “Happy new year, bub,” Logan whispered in his ear. (Somewhere between sharing a bed, fixing their sleep schedules, and settling into a daily routine, Logan and Wade start dating. Too bad Wade doesn't know that.)

Oh my god, they are both so dumb. So, so dumb, I love this fic so much. Miscommunication my beloved.

Happy reading!

[kaihuntrr]

The Sea Prince; Betas and Sketches!

Hello! been a bit since ive done a sketch dump, but it isnt just a sketch dump, it's an announcement!

As @mewhoismyself and I work on the fic, we need an active set of beta readers! The two we have our wonderful, but to keep with the schedule, we need some extra hands and fresh eyes!

Hence, beta readers are once again open!

I am looking for two betas who are experienced in writing, and who are active to give their insights and feedback! currently, i am writing chapter 17, but while i do that, i'd need the feedback as soon as i can get it so i can prepare it for the chapter release dates. shoot a comment down below so i can check your account!

anyway, here's some doodles <3

ONE OF THESE IMAGES BELOW HAVE BLOOD. I AM WARNING YOU NOW.

first off, here's a joke made by a friend :> martyn is scott's babygirl, boom, its canon-

starting off, here's some silhouettes for the other princes ;D I can't reveal them, otherwise the surprise would be ruined! they're all based on different sea creatures, but they are just as scary as Prince Pearl and Prince Chromia. theres other designs i have to get to, but this is a sneak peak of the other terrors lurking in the dark.

speaking of, I got a fun doodle of em <3 the good thing about eating underwater is that they won't get all messy, but there are those times where an audience might watch them eat, they're messy eaters!

these two are pretty, but i really wanted to push their freakier, scarier sea prince sides! more slight changes, but they're both quite fun to draw! their contrasting designs are so much fun to draw together, i love these sillies! oh- and here's a bloodless version!

i absolutely LOVE my sea prince designs, scott and pearl just itch me the right way.

and before i pop off, here's some concept designs for joey and sausage, along with fwhip and gem! since gem is officially a lifer, i think her role in the story might be a bit more focused on, who knows!

wanted to make sure sausage didn't look like his pirates look :0c this au was originally before pirates smp, so i wanted to differentiate them somehow, so i pulled a lot from their empires' attire and see what works! what do you think?

finally, we have the cover art board! im planning to put this all in my pinned post the moment all the covers drop, but goodness, those eyes sure are pretty!

what do you think of the au so far? enjoying it? i hope you are! this au is such a blast <3

[izaacs-notdeadyet]

Zombie Apocalypse au!!

I really need to come up with a better name cause "zombie apocalypse au" just seems bland and "tlou outsiders au" is just too long 😔😔 def drop some ideas if you have any.

Anyway!1!1 dally design drop!!

Gon be real, I did not have fun drawing this and I think it shows in the art but fuck it!! We ball. This is like maybe my second time drawing dally and I can't get him down well for the life of me. Kinda going threw art block I think but we stay on the grind 🗣️🗣️🗣️

While he wasn't fun to draw, he was definitely fun to think up his story in this au. I think I'm gonna be a bit selective with what all I say abt the gang from now on, cause I'm really considering turning this into a fic (would y'all read about this?)

Anyway!1!1 time to yap

Dally didn't grow up in New York

But he grew up in a gang with a lot of survivors from New york

The gang "leader" was pretty tough on Dally, he was the only kid and no one really liked his being there much

He was only there cause his dad had somehow managed to talk the group into letting him join when Dally was younger

On the topic of Dally's dad,

He wasn't a bad guy, but dally and him never got along much

He never hit dally though, only one time

Dally snuck away to go exploring in the city

And ended up pissing off the leader of their group real bad

He made Dally's dad hit him, kinda in a moment like Sarah's dad hitting her in the walking dead video game (take this as loosely similar, cause I've never played nor watched the walking dead)

It was then Dally decided to leave and take off on his own at only 12.

He wasn't going to let anyone hit him like that again or hold that kind of power over him

He wandered around America and maybe even Canada for awhile

I like to think he used to have a horse, one that either died or got stolen, but he loved it a lot while he had it

He found the gang on their trek through Oklahoma.

By "found" I mean found their camp and tried to steal from them, not realizing they were right outside

When it went wrong he ended up holding Two-bit (who had been sick at the time) at knifepoint, trying to get them to give up their shit

Darry ended up talking him down, convincing him to just sit and talk (made harder by Steve and Pony agreeing on something for once in their life, and it being on killing Dally)

Dally ended up staying at their camp for the night, planning to leave in the morning, but Two-bit found him at the campfire later that night

They had a talk, Two-bit didn't blame him or dislike him for what he'd done, he was the first one to forgive and really be okay with Dally's presence.

Come the next day, and Two-bit was up before anyone else regardless of how sick he was, standing up for Dally and saying Darry should let him stay.

It took a bit of convincing, but Dally was allowed to stay, and he just kinda ran with them since

[applesontheground]

RIRI!!!!!! I’m so excited to request something from you!! Our freaky bendy boy’s been on my mind since watching Malignant, and I know this concept has been mentioned, so I wondered…. Perhaps some phone sex with Gabriel? Him guiding reader, coaxing and teasing and instructing them with that voice? I trust you with the finer details 💜 Thank you friend, MWAH

ACE! YOU'RE GONNA BE MY FIRST GABRIEL FIC!! HOW ABOUT IT!!

this is the first of what i hope to be more installments of this dude -- and of course, the start of the final portion of my remaining requests finishing up. i'm really fascinated with this bendy boy and the bendy body he shares with his poor sister lol! that being said, we love and appreciate both in this house as we always do with horror sibs. thanks for being patient, hope the wait was worth it!!

the lost art of keeping a secret ⚕️

NSFW | Word Count: 1,916 | Gabriel May x GN Reader contains DUBCON, phone sex (or at least, a subspecies of it), guided masturbation, themes of stalking/a very paranormal means of voyeurism, he is...not nice about said guided masturbation, degradation 🎼: x, x

It was a stint of faulty wiring. That was well and normal when you decided to find a home in an overworked city full of overworked people.

Stepping off the elevator, there was a faint drum of thunder from outside. Another storm passing over brought the urge to hide out, knees growing heavy as you walked down the hall, pulling your rain-resistant coat even tighter around your collarbone. You donned a scratchy sweater underneath, and it still didn’t feel like enough.

There were two people in the corridor, a neighbor from across the way and the maintenance employee working on one of the faulty lights. It wasn’t a particular bother to you, but still nice to see it noticed and taken care of. The gentle buzz of a radio sat by your feet, a moment of unity while you fumbled for your keys in their presence.

“Hello,” Your neighbor then cleared her throat, “I-I need to ask, but were we too loud last night?”

You paused, a cold hand still grasping your keys as you stared at your door. It was the first time you two were speaking after almost a year of living across from each other, truly registering and matching the voice to the face as you turned around. You shook your head and replied, “Not at all. How come?”

She huffed, “Oh, no reason. This is my younger sister’s place, and we just got a little too giggly at an ungodly hour.” She grimaced, but when you laughed the idea off, she finally let herself breathe a sigh of relief. “I was just hoping we weren’t total menaces.”

“Not at all.” You then assured her, and pointed out, “I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to your sister, actually, regardless of you two being menaces.” She smiled a little bigger, and you then held your hand out to her. “[Y/N]. I’m at work until late anyways, so you can really be as loud as you want at night.”

She chuckled, shaking your hand. “Madison. Nice to meet you, [Y/N].” She gestured to the door behind her and added, “I’ll tell her to come say hi some time. It’s not like her to be a stranger.”

A sharp drop in the garble coming from the radio had both of you snap your heads to look towards the maintenance worker. He looked back at the both of you, brow furrowing as a walrus-looking mustache twitched. He then turned down to stare at the device, hands busy with the light overhead.

“Weather must be causing an interference,” He mumbled, turning back with his arms outstretched up to fenagle with the faulty light. Madison didn’t find that nearly as good of an answer as you did, her expression tight as you two bid farewell and head to your separate apartments.

After an agonizing day, you took solace in some breathable lounging clothes and a comforter on your sofa, curled up with your phone and the radio on a shelf above your head turned to a lulling volume, something you could fall asleep to the sound of should exhaustion fall over your tired disposition.

“Where…are you…going?”

“I…know you’re here…”

You reached up above your head, beginning to change the station and figuring some strange local program was coming through the music. It was an older system, after all, and even though you weren’t actively listening, something about letting another person pick the songs was appealing to the exhaustion, an urge to ignore most of what wasn’t in front of your eyes.

Just as your arm trailed back down, finding its shelter under the blanket and your eyes glued to the doomscroll through your phone, the radio whispered again through a light rock song – almost as though it was attempting to talk over it.

“Don’t ignore me, [Y/N]. I want an answer.”

Your eyes snapped up, staring into the open area between the countertop that separated your living room from the kitchen. Immediate bargaining came through, wondering just how common your name was, how likely it would be spoken on the air.

“I’m talking to you.”

Turning around now, half up in your seat and furrowing your brow at the radio, an uncertain prick in your chest made you glance to your windows, fogged by the warmth facing the rainy cold outside. You were higher up in the building, meaning unless someone was peering from a distance, there was no way to be seen.

“I’m not out there, [Y/N]. It's right here.” You practically felt your blood pressure spike that time, your breath growing shallow as you slowly looked up at your radio. “The sickness is well with you.”

The voice, fading between clear and garbled, was a roll over gravel. Still, you sat at the edge of the sofa now, unnerved before you could find any sort of interest in it. The static purred for a beat, and then the voice asked, “Do you like the neighbors?”

Your heart somehow fell further into the pit of your body, pressed against your spine in a metaphorical sense as you forced another breath through a tight chest. Your eyes glanced towards the front door you had walked through not even an hour ago.

“If you don’t like her, you can talk to me instead.” He was slow to word himself, as though the voice was thinking of the opportunity he was now offering. You quickly reached to turn the radio off before a scorching heat from the knob made your hand shoot back, baring your teeth.

“Don’t.”

You felt the lights flicker over your head again, now half off the couch with feet on the floor. Hand pressed into your leg, feeling the sharp pain and wondering if it had actually burned you.

“Dare.”

“You.”

Breath picked up, the TV now flicking on and off, the same news station it had been on showing first but with each heartbeat-paced switch a different channel revealed itself.

It was silent after the last word, all power shut off except for the radio. Disgust and that same avoidance was now holding you by the throat, burning through your chest as you tried to take a deep breath. You looked around again, and the voice threatened, “Now, I have a request for you, and there’s a worthy prize at the end.”

Keeping a blank expression, you only caved when he revealed his intentions: “Madison’s life.”

You sputtered, looking down at your phone tangled in the blanket. Was he terrorizing your neighbors across the hall, too? Suddenly, Intentions to leave and check on the power throughout your building bubbled up, but then the voice asked you almost in a patronizing sigh, “And what will you tell the police if they come?”

“Where the hell…?” You stammered under your breath, once again looking around wildly, “That someone on the radio told you to touch yourself?”

“…Touch myself?” You echoed, glaring at the radio and feeling dumb for doing so, no face to meet the bewilderment you knew was painting your countenance. “I’m getting too far ahead.” He chided to himself, but quickly regained a searing tone, “Listen closely, and follow my directions. Madison will face something unfortunate if you don't. Then, you will be next.”

Heat washed over your face, and you glared at the empty air in front of you. “I’m not-“

“Manage it.”

"Fucking nooo-"

“You fucking will.” He insisted, a lightbulb suddenly snapping out of thin air. Disintegrating down onto the coffee table across from your legs. Another beat, weighing your options.

You hesitantly reached for your bottoms. Dread crept up your stomach fast, and it only drew you out more into a state of disbelief when you had asked if you could close the drapes, and he complied.

“I just need one eye, and a light on you.” He then muttered, and you almost swore he was laughing to notice you were once again shuddering off the knowledge of being watched. A hand trembled below your stomach. You stuck a daunted, rather cold finger inside, [another worming into your cunt/the other hand gripping your shaft], but he then winced at the sight, “Slower...”

Utterly debilitating, especially when ordered by that voice. He worked through you despite your initial dread, and the rhythm was soon felt, even followed albeit still halfhearted. Your head lolled a bit, but you kept glancing away from the act, still wondering where he was watching from.

The voice would growl in a mutter to himself when there was some sort of indication you were jumping the gun, now feeling that familiar burn you tumbled into something desperate for this release the further the comforter slipped down your bare legs, spreading from pleasure that somehow was relaxing despite the situation. Sweat was starting to form against your thighs. The fact it was all you, him being the voice that merely directed, drove you forwards and farther down this rabbit hole.

How long could you keep up with it? Fatigue from the day made you strain to keep your pace, the heat of pleasure shot over your core and across your stomach and chest.

“[Y/N], I said slow.” Snapping to some sort of reality, you eased up more from the fact you were asked to than any urge that now sat taut like a chained, angry dog. Almost frozen, and once again glancing towards the window or any way there could be a possibility someone was watching.

The TV snapped on, a blizzard of static as you almost [removed your fingers/unclenched your cock]. A vague shape of shoulders, a head came through; it was clearer if you squinted, but each gentle breath in made it hard to keep your focus. Muscles in your groin clenched as the voice spoke again.

“Look at me, [Y/N]. I'm far closer to you than you think.”

Fear made your [hand(s)] move again, and you clenched your teeth. It’d be foolish to speak to whatever this person was, and your shoulders even rolled a bit in a jolt between [pumps up into your vagina/strokes against the hot skin of your dick] to make sure you were awake.

"Like a fine-tuned instrument. Far better than I thought you would be." He observed, a tilt in his head sending tendrils of dark hair off his shoulders. They almost seemed to jut forward unnaturally when you really looked at it, more like shoulder blades than flat surfaces.

It was like they were put on backwards.

It was a short observation, the high once again coming up as you found a perfect spot to keep rubbing against yourself. This power in an unaroused context was still toxic, asphyxiating to anything you needed tonight when it came to companionship.

The release rushed through when he took a deep breath, the groan crackling over static and making you lurch forward. A sharp orgasm, stifled from fear and causing it to slather over nerves in an ache rather than any sort of satisfaction had made your head stop lying back, front and center as you let a single pathetic whine out.

"So soon, so messy," He noted, and you crumpled against your lap as the power fell to dark once more, the TV shut off, and there was just the rain spattering against window panes hiding you from the rest of the world.

The radio still working, tickling you with its interference fighting against all law of nature and surrounding outages, was what brought you back from an orgasm.

"And so, very far."

[mimuta-muta]

A SCARRED HEART // a secret & last life artpiece, minific, and headcanon

dedicated to those desertduo scar-focused angst enojyers 🍷 THIS IS FOR YOU GUYS!! I LOVE YALL!!! I AM YOU. I AM YOU ALL. im going insane anyways,

first tumblr post i think? dropping a more refined version of my secret life / last life scar headcanon/art/minific from twt here, praying that someone as insane as me will see it 🙏

[Based off of Last Life and Secret Life, in which Scar was intentionally permakilled by Grian the season prior.

Minific in italics first, followed by official headcanon transcribed & slightly modified from art ^^ taking this much more seriously than i should hehehe

Might make a full fledged fic on Ao3 if this turns out well though!! Hope yall enjoy <3. - mimuta]

- The desert. The betrayal. It all comes back to him in a dream, lucid and laced in sorrow…

And as he awakens from his slumber, he’s left shrouded and alone.

Again.

Perhaps they were a cruel mockery, these “secret”scrolls. A bitter reminder of the contracts he’d never be able to control. Of the friends he’d never be able to keep.

It’s almost as if some god up above had descended from their watchful throne to spit in his face and show him how it should be done.

Or… perhaps they were a sign.

Perhaps, by experience or some strange instinct, or by insight or spite, he took it as such.

And perhaps that’s why he emerged victorious this time around.

Alone, of course, as always.

Alone, but alive.

-

Following the desertduo divorce arcs in Third and Limited Life that end in Scar’s death by Grian’s hand (double life dont count that was the warden), Scar returns to the next season as a cloaked iteration of his self, doomed to insanity and isolation: first in Last Life, and second in Secret Life.

Cloaked Scar/Scarred Heart Scar’s (i cant think of a better name ToT these sound so bad T_T will take suggestions aldbskshxbsk-) “friendship/ally” contracts in Magical Mountain also inadvertently influenced the secret task/contract of sort kinda gimmick in Secret Life, what with the life reward system for tasks and etc.: only this time, people can’t get away without consequence.

Through the tasks given to him in Secret Life, Scar was outcasted as an enemy to all, loyal companion to none. Similarly, the contracts Scar made in Last Life granted him half-assed “allies,” but never a true friend. Like the one who had killed and betrayed him all those years ago. wink wink. wink wink.

Secret Life Scar, being the second version of his cloaked self, retains an “instinct” or like muscle memory but.. idk how to describe it- hazy underlying memories from Last Life scar, and later realizes this w/ the winner’s theory (or whichever hc out there that says that they remember past seasons upon winning) *kaboom*

TLDR: desert duo divorce arc so bad it results in grian killing scar, and scar’s left as a reclusive cloaked maniac in last life, returns as same maniac in secret life and learns from his mistakes, and wins secret life through nuances left over from last life 💪💪 or something or other

ALSO//side headcanons::

grian’s life given in servitutde to scar + scars life given to grian in 3rd life somehow influenced their soulbind in double life- although this may not be as solid as a hc due to the fact scar was giving hearts away like crazy moneys in last life iirc… buuut it kinda still works either way

lilacs and poppies on scars skin, yet another callback, another reminder of his loneliness, of the desert, of his death, of the desert, of the desert, of the desert, of the desert, of the dese-

if scar dies to grian in wild life i blame it on secret scar being left alive and he cant return as hes permanently stuck in secret life this crap is staying canon to me no matter what trust 🧍‍♂️

theres a similarity in appearance between scar and the secret keeper (hood) ik its watcher evo stuff,,, but… do with thatbwhat you will hehe—

oooh bou that was a lot :,) if you made it to the end, thanks for reading through all of this!! im totally normal!!! please like or whatever the equivalent is and feel free to leave comments or whatever im desperate for traffic interaction 🧎🧎🧎 i might take a bit to respond but KSBDKDBSKSBS

i shall be off to do ap bio work now before i fail my test tmrw WOOOOOO thanks again for reading this far if you have :Df and i hope you have a wonderful dayyyyy <33333

[marthawrites]

Hi friends I'm dropping by here with a small update

I've been totally absent from tumblr for the past week. Which, honestly, is more like the past two weeks. And even before that I was tapering off.

Long story short is: hotd s2 was a real bummer for me and has really zapped a lot of my motivation to even participate in fandom - reading fic, reblogging art and gifs, and generally interacting with my dash much less writing my own fics.

On top of that, the near constant negative takes/posts/rants about hotd s2 is mentally exhausting (and I understand this post can be considered that as well - talking crap about people taking crap ugggh the irony doesn't escape me!).

Then, on top of that, the lack of comments, interactions, and feedback from readers is also zapping my motivation. "Likes" are cool but it's borderline frustrating to only get likes in your notifications and rarely a comment and rarely a reblog. Idk maybe I'm being whiney but that's how I feel, sooo... yeah.

I've got a lot going on irl and have been shifting to incorporate healthy habits into my daily life. October is going to be a huge month!!

This isn't an official hiatus post but I will probably continue to be on less for the foreseeable future.

I'd really like to maybe branch out and participate in other fandoms (Throne of Glass, The Boys, maybe some smaller book fandoms), but even my experience on ao3 has been disheartening so idk.

I have a queue of 140 posts or so lined up (none of them are tagged rn though ugh even that feels like a chore to do) so I will still be here but not necessarily here.

I will be popping in and out from time and time again, but I'm definitely not working on anything or reading much rn.

At the end of the day the writers of hotd can never make me hate Aemond. Even if the show is horrible as it's projected to be by GRRM himself, the book Fire and Blood can never be taken away from me and that's what really made me fall in love with this fandom.

Aemond simp foreveerrr

Rhaenyra Dragon Queen foreveerr!!

Harwin and Rhaenyra are my OTP FOREVERRR R

ANyway ily all MWAH

[uhohwhathaveidone]

I want to start off w saying i may or may not have binged all your fics (#noragrets free time well spent)

Could i request a jealous/crybaby Sebastian x f!Slytherin reader during the yule ball bcus someone asked her about before him and now he’s pissed about it. Could end cute w them together after all or him ruining her night by being pissy a lá goblet of fire - totally up to you!!

Love ur writing <3<3<3

I lost you for a second and got scared-

With Me Instead (S.S)

<3<3<3 I'm so glad you're enjoying! Your words make me very happy <3. I spent ages with my friend that really likes old fashion to come up with some clothing ideas for this, but the only thing that was really cemented was making a version of the Dark Arts outfit for Sebastian to wear to the ball, everything else was us skimming Pinterest while also looking at old excerpts of high-class 1890's fashion, which was rather strange because we went through dinner dresses, evening toilettes, ball-toilettes, the whole thing. I'd be dead in them. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! This has a slight character x reader that isn't Sebastian Sallow, but it's for the plot, i swear. (Also if you want the like reference images i will post them because i 100% feel like i didn't do these things justice)

      You practically sprinted down the halls as you weaved through the students, making your way to the common room. You halted as you reached the door, moving from one foot to the other as you said the password and waited for the door to open, excitement building in your gut as you saw Sebastian and Ominis on the other side. You shouted to them as you ran up, placing your hands on your knees as you tried to catch your breath. Sebastian looked down at you in confusion, frowning as you tried to speak. “Perhaps you should sit down, we don’t need you passing out before you tell us what’s on that mind of yours.” He said, gesturing to the couch. You nodded as you dropped into a seat, running a hand through your hair. “Where did you come form, anyway?” Ominis asked, taking a seat beside you. You watched Sebastian take a seat on your other side; confusion still etched in his face. “Dining Hall, I ran all the way over here!” You breathed, sighing as you fanned your face. Sebastian’s eyes widened, “The Dining Hall? What’s so important that you had to run up and tell us? I’m sure it could have waited.” You shook your head as you calmed your heart and fixed your breathing, sitting up and clenching your hands into fists.

      “They just released the theme for the Yule Ball!” You said excitedly, a wide smile dancing on your lips. Sebastian scoffed as he shook his head. “The theme to a dance is not that important, you know.” You huffed in response, ignoring Sebastian’s comment as you continued. “It’s House themed, meaning that you must dress according to your house! Meaning that we have to have green on.” Ominis nodded as he listened, hearing Sebastian let a sigh out. “Why should we care about a dance? And it’s two weeks away as well, you don’t to be in such a hurry.” Your face dropped as you listened to Sebastian, his pessimistic attitude dragging you down. Ominis heard the absence of your voice, and quickly tried to cheer you up. “Well, now you know what to look for when choosing a dress, right? There’s plenty of time to find the perfect one, not to mention getting it fitted.” You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. “Right. That also means that the two of you need to find what you’ll be wearing as well.”

      A week had passed, and you sat with Ominis at the table as you ate, describing the dress to him. “I pick it up tomorrow, it should be fitted and ready by then.” You explained, and Ominis smiled. “I’m glad you found one to your liking.” You hummed in response, taking a bite of your food. “Off topic, but do you know what has gotten into Sebastian? He used to be so excited for the ball.” Ominis shook his head. Although he knew perfectly well why Sebastian was acting the way he did, it was none of Ominis’ business to get into the whole logistics. "I'm sure he’ll come around, though. Could have sworn I heard him talking about finding an outfit.” You let out a huff, shaking your head. “Speaking of, have you gotten your outfit then?” You asked, tilting your head as you watched Ominis nod. “My mother sent it by owl earlier today.” “I’d love to see it later, if you don’t mind?” “Of course.”

      Sebastian continued to be pessimistic about the Ball, claiming that the three of you had more important things to do instead, but you continued to shake him off. The next day, you took a trip to Hogsmeade with Natty and Poppy, in search of dresses. “What about this one?” Poppy asked, pointing to a cotton dress, one with low sleeves, one that would lay against the ground as you walked. You shook your head, “I’d trip on it, and it’ll get hot easy too.” The two nodded in agreement, walking around the shop in search of other dresses. Natty had already chosen one; sent over from her mother. Poppy was still looking but had her eye on a soft yellow dress that would reach her ankles with a subtle corset, white sleeves that reached just past her elbows accompanying it. You sighed as you looked through the different dresses, searching for one that would fit the theme while also allowing you room to breathe and feel comfortable. “Y/n! What about this dress?” Natty said, waving you and Poppy over to where she stood. Poppy gasped as she looked at the details, a smile reaching your lips as you examined it, feeling the soft fabric under your fingers. “It’s perfect!”

      You paced around the common room as you began to doubt yourself, muttering what ifs to Ominis as he sat in a seat, shaking his head at some of the things you said. “What if people think the dress is ugly? I’ll be laughed at the whole time, I couldn’t bear to go through that.” You said, earning another sigh from Ominis. “Your dress sounds beautiful, I’m sure everyone will like it.” You continued to pace, fiddling with your fingers as you thought up more worries. “Okay, then what if I step on someone? What would happen then?” “You worry too much.” A new voice said, and you turned your head to see Sebastian as he took a seat. You huffed in response, plopping into an empty chair as you sighed. “That’s easy for you to say, since you don’t even want to go.” Sebastian shrugged at your comment, a small smile touching his lips. “As a matter of fact, I will be going.” You scoffed, raising an eyebrow at him. “Really? And who would you be taking with you?” Sebastian shrugged, feeling his cheeks heat up slightly as he chose his next words. “I was thinking, you and I could go together, naturally.” Ominis dropped his head as he frowned. You sat there as you looked at Sebastian, a small frown forming as you bit the inside of your cheek. Sebastian watched the two of you, his own smile dropping as he felt the colour drain from his face. “What’s wrong? Did I say something?” You shook your head.

      “Sebastian I was already asked, last week.” You said softly, looking down at your hands. Sebastian furrowed his brows, his face switching between upset and confused. “What do you mean, you were already asked? Who asked you?” He said, his voice crackling slightly. You sighed, “Garreth Weasley.” Sebastian felt his heartbeat faster, cursing himself. “The Gryffindor? Why would you go with him? Why didn’t you let me ask you?” He stood up and began to pace, waiting for your answer. You stood as well, glaring at him. “You ask me, the night before the dance! You acted like you weren’t interested anyway! If I had waited, I may have been without a date!” Sebastian scoffed, shaking his head. “You have no patience, do you? You’d rather go with Weasley? Then go with him, why should I care?” With that, Sebastian turned and walked away, no doubt to his room. You sighed as you sat down next to Ominis, who stayed silent.

      “You heard how he acted, right?” You asked, laying your cheek into your palm. Ominis nodded as he sighed, “He did seem uninterested, but I suppose if you have a one-track mind like him, it’s easy to forget how time works.” You nodded, nudging Ominis’ shoulder with your own as you stood up. “I should retire then; I don’t feel like dealing with him when he comes back down to have another go.” Ominis waved you off, staying seated as he listened to the fire.

      You waited by the fountain in the courtyard, fiddling with the soft sleeves of your dress as you waited for Garreth. The sun had begun to set, meaning that the ball would start soon. You sighed as you listened to the water run behind you, looking down at your heels. Black shoes slowly replaced the empty spot in front of you, and you looked up and met Garreth, who smiled as he offered his hand. You smiled back, taking his hand as you took in his outfit. He wore a white button up, paired with a red waistcoat and gold tie, a black blazer and pants completing the look. You had to admit that he looked dashing, and watched how his hair moved lightly as a breeze blew by. “Shall we go, then?” Garreth asked, and you nodded, your hand still held in his as you left the courtyard and made your way down the halls. You passed by some of your friends, waving to Poppy and Natty as they smiled at you, Natty sending you a thumbs up, trying to calm your nerves. Garreth gestured for you to walk in first, bowing slightly as he smiled up at you. You smiled as a slight blush crept up to your cheeks at the gesture, walking in and taking his hand once again.

      Sebastian sat at a table, frowning. Ominis sat beside him, listening to him as he muttered about how stupid everything was, and criticizing everyone’s outfits. “It’s as if we’re the only ones with any sense of style here, look at us!” Ominis shook his head as he tried to tune Sebastian out, who had begun to talk about his own outfit that he “spent a lot of time looking for.” Sebastian wore a fitted white shirt, paired with a white ascot, which bore a green pendent in the center, with a long golden chain that hooked somewhere under the dark green waistcoat that sat under the black blazer, which was currently laying in a chair next to him. He looked down at his shoes, black to match his pants, and sighed. He listened to the chatter around him, recognizing some voices as he eavesdropped on their conversations. Ominis shook his head as he stood up, fixing up his own outfit, which was similar to Sebastian’s in colour, and excused himself. “Where are you going?” Sebastian asked, watching Ominis. “I’m off to get a drink and talk with some friends, perhaps you should do the same.” Ominis turned and left, disappearing into the crowd.

      You hovered near the drink with Garreth, taking a few sips as you watched people filter in. You smiled as Ominis came into view and walked over to you, greeting you and Garreth. “You look dashing in that, Ominis! You pull it off really well!” You complimented, handing him a drink. Garreth nodded, “It really suits you! I’m sure they’ll be flocking to you soon.” Ominis smiled as he accepted the drink from your hand, “Thank you. Though I might not be able to enjoy myself for too long, otherwise Sebastian may get lonely and upset.” You sighed as you shook your head. “He’s still pouting?” Ominis nodded. Garreth placed his drink down and took your hand, “How about we get a dance out of the way, and you can talk to your friend Sebastian? Maybe he could hang out with us.” You nodded as you said goodbye to Ominis, following Garreth.

      The tall boy stood before you as he placed a hand on your waist, earning a shy smile as you placed your hand on his shoulder. The two of you swayed to the music, smiling at some people as they spun by you. Garreth was gentle with you, but it appeared that he hadn’t taken any lessons for dancing, as he stepped on your toes every so often. You smiled as you brushed it off, mentally noting how bruised they would be in the morning. As the song ended, the two of you finished with a bow, smiling at each other. Leander walked over to the two of you, greeting you as he turned to Garreth, asking him if he wanted to hang out with some of the other Gryffindors. Garreth looked at you, seemingly asking if he was allowed, and you smiled and you waved him off, telling him to have fun.

      Without a date now, you walked around the large room, making small talk with some people as you passed by, searching for Ominis and Sebastian. You mumbled to yourself as you walked, thinking about how sore your feet would be the next day, yet thankful that it was the weekend as you made your way out of the crowd, spotting Ominis and Sebastian. You smiled as you looked at the details of Sebastian’s outfit, noticing the blazer that lay next to him, and walked over to sit next to him. Sebastian didn’t look up as he kept his head down, almost as if he was asleep, and you messed with his hair lightly. “Not now, can’t you see I’m busy?” He mumbled, shifting his head in his arms. You chuckled as you kept messing with it, “You can’t sit here forever, why not dance?” Sebastian scoffed as he turned away from you, exposing his back to you as he grumbled. “Don’t you have Garreth for that? Why not go dance with him?” You sighed, tracing your fingers down his spine in boredom. “He ditched me to go hang out with his friends, and Ominis said you might get lonely.” Ominis chuckled at the mention of his name, shaking his head. Sebastian shivered as you kept tracing his spin, quickly sitting up and turning to you.

      His eyes widened as you looked at you, your face seemingly glowing in the light as you smiled at him. He felt heat grow in his cheeks as he took in your outfit, the dark green bow that laid on your chest adorned with silver chains that hooked onto the ribbons, black beads scattered along the links. You placed your cheek into your palm, the soft white sleeves that clung to your wrists dropping slightly as the elastic wrapped around your skin, the frill falling into your arm. He looked back up at your face, unsure if he would be allowed to see the rest of your dress from where you sat. “Do you like it? I think it’s beautiful!” You said as you stood up, twirling around to show him. The white dress shirt buttoned down until it slipped under a dark green corset, wrapping around your middle as it transitioned into the dark green skirt, the top layer ruffled halfway to your knee as a dark sheer fell from under it, reaching your calf, the final layer a white frill, which ended just under the top layer. Your collar was frilled as well, matching your sleeves as they billowed as you twirled.

      “It’s very…lovely.” Was all Sebastian could say as you beamed at him, sitting down beside him once again. “I really love it, Poppy and Natty helped me find it.” Sebastian nodded as he continued to watch you, unsure if you were aware of the dark tint that covered his cheeks as you spoke. “Enough about the dress, though. I’ll be needing some ice when this is all over.” You said, reaching down and messing with your shoe, checking on your foot. Sebastian scoffed, breaking out of his trance. “Did your date step on them?” You pouted as you nodded, “It doesn’t hurt too much right now, but it’ll be a pain in the morning.” Sebastian shook his head as he looked to where everyone was dancing, sighing. “Guess you won’t be dancing anymore tonight.” “Absolutely not, I’m not passing this up!” You said, sending a playful glare at Sebastian, who only shrugged. “Good luck with that, then.” You huffed as you crossed your arms, watching people walk by.

      You stand, sending a smile to Sebastian as you begin to walk away. “Where are you going?” Sebastian asked, and you waved. “I’m going to dance with Amit! I’m sure he’ll be happy to dance with me!” You turned away and kept walking, hearing footsteps quickly approach you as Sebastian grabbed your arm. “Amit? Why would you dance with him?” He asked, and you shrugged. “Well, someone won’t dance with me, so I’m going to find someone else.” Sebastian sighed as his hand slid down your arm and took your hand, his face heating up as he slowly led you to where everyone was dancing. You smiled as you watched his flustered face, meeting together as you placed a hand on his shoulder and kept his hand in your own. Sebastian’s face grew hotter as he slowly placed his free hand on your waist, avoiding eye contact. You chuckled as you felt your own cheeks flush as he brought you closer, slowly beginning to dance.

      “I’ll try not to step on your toes, don’t need you in anymore pain.” Sebastian said as he watched his feet, carefully dancing around them. You hum in response, raising an eyebrow at him. “What?” You shake your head, smiling. “You seem really eager to dance with me now, for someone who didn’t want to be here.” Sebastian let out a soft chuckle as he shifted his hand on your waist, spinning you. He brought you back to him and lowered his head so he would whisper to you. “I was going to ask you to the Ball earlier, but I got scared.” You scoffed, “Scared? You? Of what?” Sebastian squeezed your hand and blew in your face in annoyance, causing you to laugh. “I figured; you might reject me. So, I pretended to not care.” You smiled softly as danced around Sebastian, hands still together and you waltzed. “So, you rejected yourself? Why would I reject you?” Sebastian shook his head, grabbing your waist again as the music slowed. “I don’t know. Nerves, maybe? There are plenty of other people here, I figured you’d prefer them.” You chuckled as you leaned your head onto his chest. “Why would I prefer anyone else over you? I’d rather you here with me instead.” Sebastian sighed, feeling his heartbeat faster, afraid you’d hear it. “Although, you took forever to ask. I was going to wait, but I’m glad we can end the ball as dates instead.” Sebastian smiled, looking down at you as you wrapped your arm around him, hugging him as you danced.

      “I’m glad we can dance together; this is rather nice.” Sebastian said, leaning his head onto yours. It felt as if you were the only two people left in the room, a small yet intimate moment shared between the two of you. You hummed in response, shift your head so you could look up at Sebastian. “We should do this more often.” Sebastian chuckled, raising a brow. “What, dance? Or would you rather just stay in my arms?” You placed a quick kiss on his chin, watching as his face lit up again. “Both, perhaps.” Sebastian stuttered as he looked into your eyes, biting the inside of his cheek. The song began to end, and he quickly led you into a dip, placing his own soft kiss to your lips. “Agreed then.”

      Poppy and Natty watched the pair, smiling. Ominis walked over with a drink in his hand, taking a sip. “Has anything interesting happened?” He asked. The two girls giggled, sharing smiles. “They’ve kissed twice now.” Natty said, Poppy clapping her hands together. “It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” Ominis nodded, grabbing a treat from the table behind them. “Maybe Sebastian will be quiet now.” He said, taking a bite.