#anyway this goes in his tag for real now i guess.

[wyldblunt]

[GRIPPING MY HEAD AND GROANING, OVERCOME WITH VISIONS OF TORMENT] thinkign about. glyndwr, champion of vlast,

my first thought was "vlast lives au" but it doesn't even have to be that. it can be that he WAS always meant to be vlast's champion but ... well. sucks. and actually he probably wouldn't even know bc he doesn't remember his dream/wyld hunt at all (and if he DID know it would drive him into a delirious hateful breakdown bc over the years he has developed a phobia of one day remembering his wyld hunt, or finding out that everything in his life HAS been in service of a forgotten hunt whether he meant it to be or not. he does not want to know.)

i have already been kicking around the idea of glyn having this. very very bad habit, after PoF, of prowling the mists kind of voyeuristically looking in on other timelines (alan heavily disapproves of this and worries about him a lot, merrit hates it and worries about him a lot, rytlock thinks it is a really bad idea but still got tricked into giving over some tips, canach hates it but won't bring it up bc they are both so fiercely independent that sometimes it means they mutually fail to do things like, uh, "Talking About My Needs, Opinions, and Feelings in Regards to Our Relationship, Lest I Infringe Upon Your Will"). he thinks about vlast a lot. he thinks about rytlock's fuckup a lot. he knows, obviously, that sulking around peering into smudgy windows between realities hoping you get a glimpse of a timeline where things went better is an astonishingly bad idea.

(i mean, like, what would you even do if you found one. kill that glyndwr and steal his life? ha ha ha! that's, that's wacky. you wouldn't do that.)

and maybe one day he looks through a rift and sees himself with vlast. shining as brightly as alan does with aurene. infinitely stronger, OBVIOUSLY stronger. not just accepted by the world but beloved, TRULY thought of as a hero (because he's never been that to tyria, no matter what he does — alan is the hero of tyria. glyndwr is a necessary evil, a weapon that makes everyone uncomfortable but is too valuable to set aside. he jokes about it all the time. because he thinks about it all the time.)

maybe he keeps coming back to that window. maybe he sees that he's still WITH alan in that timeline. maybe he sees so much less death, there. so many more victories. how can there not be, with another dragon on your side?

but maybe he doesn't see merrit. or canach, for that matter. maybe the lorelei he sees at alan's side isn't the same, in ways he feels discomfited by.

maybe one day he gets spotted. he knows better, but he can't help speaking. maybe he asks about canach.

and glyndwr, champion of vlast, barely remembers. it takes him a second; when he finally makes the connection, he seems a little amused. "oh, canach. that wayward secondborn — the one i put down in southsun."

(in glyn's timeline, after all, it was alan who handled all that — and he'd always rather put someone in handcuffs before he puts them in a box. not like glyn.)

(in glyn's timeline, after all, he was insulted that the thing even came across his desk — a karka infestation? for fuck's sake. as if he didn't have better things to do.)

(in glyn's timeline, after all, they've even joked about it, laying in bed — "it's a good thing it WASN'T you, dear. we would have just killed each other!" ha, ha —)

this is when he should have left. especially when he already wants to leap on his doppelganger and strangle him to death, because at every moment he's seeming like less a mockery of everything that's gone wrong in his world and more a mockery of every way he's managed to better himself.

but, as always, glyn can't help himself. he has to ask about merrit. he has to. her absense has been so conspicuous, every time he's stopped to spy on this world (and how many times has it been now? a dozen? more?).

now glyndwr, champion of vlast, does not look amused. now he's the one asking questions. he's asking what glyn means by that. he's asking about maguuma. he's asking, again and again, with increasing violence, what year it is, in glyn's tyria, how long is it after the mordrem campaign, how did you manage to get them all out—

maybe this is when glyndwr starts running. (we've said it already. glyndwr, champion of vlast, is infinitely stronger, obviously stronger.) maybe he's lucky he's spent this long slipping in and out of the mists — he can navigate just a little better. he still knows better than to lose time by looking back.

(i mean, what do you think he would do. kill you and steal your life? give up the one he has, the one that's so much better than yours?)

(the thing is, you would. the throne of a dragon champion, acceptance at last, unfathomable power — you would throw all of that in the mud and tread on it without looking down, for your son.)

(and he's you.)

maybe glyndwr, champion of vlast, is still catching up. maybe glyn can hear him gaining, can tell what he's planning, can calculate already that he'll be caught in moments at this rate, and there's probably no choice but to stop and face him—

(i mean, what are you going to do? kill him and doom his timeline, just to protect what's yours?)

(the thing is, he would.)

(and you're him.)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Can we talk about how fcked up Charles can be sometimes? Can we talk about how Charles can sometimes be actually scary as a person? Like he can legit be nefarious sometimes, but those moments are not as talked about as Erik's warcrimes (aside from the holocaust visions from TAS)

girlfriend i promise we're all very aware about how wack charles xavier can be and i assure you his nefarious moments are talked plenty from what i run into. like outside of this inbox most times you breathe charles' name to someone they'll be prepared to start swinging

[keeps-ache]

ooo that's minty babyyy

[ohproserpine]

i. deer dolly

part i | part ii | more | ao3 tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, human! possibly ooc! alastor so he's a bit more "tame" here, allusions to murder and such, unsettling & obsessive behavior, written before episode 7; may become inaccurate, gorey-ish descriptions of love

"So what?" Angel Dust hummed, drumming his nails on the counter. "You and Alastor are like... friends?"

"Oh, well, that ain't the word I would’ve used, but it's something like that!" Mimzy chirped, reaching for her drink and downing it in one go. "He used to frequent the club I had! In fact, that’s where he met his wife—"

“Wife?!” Angel Dust cut her off, jaw dropping. “Freaky face is married?”

“Oh yeah,” Mimzy hummed, waving her hand around. “Under all that murder and cannibalism, he’s a total sap! Can't blame him, I mean—his wife is a doll! Me an' her used to perform together!”

"An’ how come I never heard of this? People ain't told me shit!" Angel Dust grumbled, turning to Husk behind the counter. "You knew 'bout this, whiskers?"

"Yeah. They were together back in the living. But don't even think of bringing it up in front of Alastor. He gets all heated," Husk grumbled, grabbing a towel to wipe down Mimzy’s now-empty glass. The cat then turned to grab another bottle off the shelf, a grimace on his lips. "I would know."

Angel Dust leaned forward, resting his face on his folded hands. "Well, ain't that something. Never knew he even had one of those."

Mimzy cackled, her voice a raspy melody that echoed through the smoky air of the bar as she snatched the bottle of liquor away from Husk’s paws. "Oh, honey, you wouldn’t even know how deep it goes. They go way back."

"Spill," Angel Dust grinned, curiosity getting the better of him. 

Mimzy leaned in, looking both ways to make sure Alastor or his shadows weren't around before lowering her voice. "It was back in the day, at my joint. Alastor dropped by for the bootlegs, you know? But then he caught sight of her. She was singin’ and dancin’ on stage, a real heartbreaker. He couldn't resist the charm, and boom, he was struck on! Ever since then, he came around as frequently as he could. Made me so much money~" 

Angel Dust raised an eyebrow, his long lashes fluttering as he squished his cheek against his palm, a coy smirk playing on his lips. "And you were part of this love saga?"

Mimzy shook her head, a wicked glint dancing in her eyes before she lifted the bottle to her lips and downed its contents in one swift motion, her throat working as she swallowed. "Oh, sugar, just a witness to the drama. Those two lovebirds had their own dance going on. I just spiced things up."

Angel Dust chuckled, shaking his head. "Never thought smiles had it in him."

"Again. He likes to keep his shit private. So, don't go running your mouth unless you wanna be on the receiving end of one of his… episodes," Husk interrupted, his gruff voice breaking through the conversation as he leaned over the counter and reclaimed the bottle from Mimzy with a low growl.

Angel hummed dismissively, his golden tooth catching the glimmer of the bar lights as he spoke. “Anyone could've guessed that. Where is she, anyways? I haven't seen or heard of her since day one."

"Busy," Mimzy snorted, her finger lazily tracing the rim of her glass. She leaned back in her seat, the dim glow of the bar lights casting shadows across her features. "That's where."

“Really?" Angel's brow lifted in skepticism, his boot lightly kicking against the base of Mimzy's chair. "Busy? That’s it?”

Mimzy shrugged, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Can't tell ya much. Y'know Alastor doesn't like sharin'. Secrets and shadows, that's his game."

“Aww c'mon, tits,” Angel grinned, his golden tooth glinting beneath the bar lights with each word. “You gotta know more than you let on. It'll be our secret.”

"Well," Mimzy drawled, savoring the suspense as she tapped a gloved finger against her cheek. "I guess I can tell you a lil’ something about how they met…”

.

Alastor found himself standing in the heart of a secluded corner of town. 

A desolate, dimly lit street stretched out before him, raindrops rhythmically tapping on the worn concrete beneath his feet.

It was something he had never imagined—searching for a speakeasy in this far-off locale. Rarely did he have time for himself. Most of his days were dedicated to caring for his mother, his job as a radio host, and any free time he had was reserved for his… hobbies. But he supposed a change of scenery wouldn't hurt.

Adjusting his glasses, he gazed up at the timeworn, ragged sign of a barbershop that read, "Chum’s Clippers." 

Charming. 

With a roll of his eyes, the radio host stepped into the worn-down establishment, visibly grimacing at the shop's decrepit condition. His eyes surveyed the room, settling on a young blonde woman. 

Perched on the edge of the registrar counter, a cigar dangled between her cherry-red lips, the tendrils of smoke curling upwards in lazy spirals. Her legs crossed provocatively, causing the fabric of her dress to ride up her thighs, revealing more skin than what civil society would allow. 

As soon as she caught sight of Alastor's silhouette, a spark of excitement lit up her features, and she greeted him with an animated wave.

"Hey there, mistah! Names Mimzy!" she chirped with a friendly lilt. Her crimson-painted nails plucked the cigarette from her lips, trailing a wisp of smoke as she gestured toward Alastor. "Whatcha here for?"

"Pleasure to meet you," Alastor smiled back and stepped closer, offering her a bow of his head, “Quite a pleasure. You see, I was just strolling through these darling streets, and wouldn't you know it? The whispers in the wind pointed me straight to you, the gal in the know when it comes to bootlegs. Care to confirm?"

‘A potential client?" Mimzy thought, her smirk hidden behind her hand as she took one last puff, the cherry of her cigar glowing brightly before she flicked it into an ashtray. 'Straight to the point.'

"Well, well, mistah," she drawled with a playful twirl of her finger through her blonde curls. "You've got a nose for sniffin' out the good stuff, huh? Well, we might have a few things tucked away for the right kind of folk. But, sugar, we don't just give 'em to anyone.”

Alastor's smile widened as he smoothly fished out his wallet, giving it a theatrical wave. "I do have a penchant for fine libations, my dear. And I assure you, I'm just looking for a little taste of the local flavor, nothing more."

Mimzy's eyes sparkled with mischief as she perked up, eagerly hopping off the counter. The click of her heels echoed against the worn floor as she approached the tall man.

"You're in luck, then! Follow me, and we'll talk business in the back," she said, gesturing toward a concealed door at the back of the barbershop.

Alastor followed her through a narrow passage, which unveiled another door leading to the very speakeasy he’d heard talk of. The atmosphere changed instantly, lively jazz music filled the air, and the dimly lit space was alive with laughter and clinking glasses.

Mimzy guided Alastor to a private booth tucked away in a corner, where a polished bottle of bootleg whiskey awaited their arrival.

"Here's to unexpected encounters, mistah," she beamed, the words dripping with charm as she poured a generous measure into his glass. Alastor raised his glass in acknowledgment, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"To unexpected encounters," he echoed before taking a deep sip.

The whiskey was bitter and strong, yet there was a subtle sweetness that danced on his tongue, leaving behind a tantalizing warmth. It had been increasingly difficult to find such fine brews ever since the prohibition hit, making each sip all the more precious.

Seating himself comfortably, Alastor swirled the glass in his hand, mesmerized by the way the golden liquid caught the flickering candlelight. Beside him, Mimzy continued her lively chatter, her words accompanied by the persistent clinking of ice in their glasses as she refilled his drink, hoping to stack his bill higher with each pour.

As the room hummed with the soft, easy notes of a piano and the clinking of glasses, a sudden hush fell over the crowd as an announcer's voice sliced through the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the enchanting Dolly!"

Mimzy's excitement bubbled up even more, and she leaned in toward Alastor. "That's my sister! Well— not by blood, but you know, me and her are real, real close. One of my best performers here at the bar!"

"Is that so?" Alastor hummed, his eyes now alight with curiosity as he shifted his focus toward the stage.

In that moment, you stepped onto the platform, grabbing a hold of the standing microphone. With a subtle flick of your wrist, you directed attention to the dark-haired pianist, his fingers poised above the keys. A nod from you and the jazz ensemble sprung to life, setting the stage for your performance. As the spotlight enveloped you in a warm glow, a hushed silence fell over the speakeasy.

Folks, here's a story 'bout Minnie the Moocher She was a red hot hoochie-coocher She was the roughest, toughest frail But Minnie had a heart as big as a whale

The lyrics flowed easily through Alastor's mind, carried by the smooth, buttery tones of your voice that filled the air. The radio host found himself utterly hypnotized, his gaze never tearing from your form.

He could stare for hours, unabashed by any sense of shame—though, truth be told, he didn't possess much of that quality to begin with.

She messed around with a bloke named Smokey She loved him though he was kokey He took her down to Chinatown And he showed her how to kick the gong around

As Mimzy began clapping excitedly and waving her arms to beckon you over, Alastor's attention shifted. The final notes of the song echoed in the room, snapping him back to reality. In the haze of your performance, he hadn't even realized that the song had come to an end.

“What a gal!” Mimzy cackled, joyously wrapping her arms around you as you approached.

Alastor took a moment to study you with keen interest.

The dim lighting of the speakeasy lent a soft, ethereal glow to your figure as you moved, casting long shadows across the floor. A slender dress, shimmering with golden sequins, hugged your figure, shimmers and glitters catching the light. The dress boasted a daring low neckline, while its swaying boxed skirt gracefully fell just above your knees, accentuating your every movement. Complementing the ensemble were black kitten heels, their clicks and clacks adding a subtle rhythm to every step you took. Your hair, styled into a sleek bob, framed your demure features perfectly. Adorning your head was a headpiece adorned with golden yellow feathers and dark lace.

"Dollface, I want ya to meet Alastor!" Mimzy exclaimed, pulling you along and positioning you in front of him. “He’s new!”

With a wave of your hands and a warm smile, you tilted your head up to meet Alastor's gaze. The man standing before you was tall and slim, boasting broad shoulders. His white button-up clung perfectly to his frame, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing toned forearms adorned with scars, cuts, and prominent veins.

‘Must be a hunter or a butcher,’ you noted heatedly.

Short, side-swept brunette hair framed his face, adding a touch of rugged charm to his appearance, while rectangular glasses perched on the bridge of his nose lent him an air of intelligence. As he smiled, a chill crept down your spine, and an odd sinking sensation settled in your stomach.

There was an unsettling nature to him, a subtle aura that left you uncertain of whether your reaction stemmed from the eerie quality of his smile or if it was simply a flustered response to his strikingly handsome features. 

“Pleasure to meet you, cher,” Alastor purred, turning on the charm. He delicately took your hand, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. In a subtle move, the radio host let his fingers linger over your skin, subtly checking for any sign of a ring. Noticing the absence, he filed the information away with a sly smile. 

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well, sir,” you smiled, tucking your face behind your hand. Alastor observed with delight as a subtle blush painted your cheeks, a tacit acknowledgment that his presence had left an impression.

"Al here knows his way around a glass of whiskey like nobody else in these parts! Ain't that right, Al?" Mimzy chattered, her voice bubbling with familiarity as if she had known him for years and hadn't just met him one song and ten drinks ago.

Alastor chuckled, a low, melodic sound that sent your stomach doing flips. "

"Well, I do have a certain fondness for…" The radio host paused, his sharp, gaze raking up and down your form, his words trailing off. "…finer things in life."

A silence lingered in the air, and Mimzy, always attuned to the mood of a room, shot a knowing look between the two of you.

"Well, don't cha?" Mimzy exclaimed, her hands clapping with excitement. "If that's the case, then I'm sure Dolly would love to show you around here!"

"Is that so?" Alastor, maintaining that devilish smile, turned his attention back to you. "Well, what do you say, cher?" he questioned.

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you met his gaze with a coy smile. "I'd be delighted to show you around. There's a lot more to this place than meets the eye."

Mimzy clapped her hands together. "Perfect! Now, why don't you two enjoy the rest of the night? I'll be right here waiting."

“Shall we?” Alastor offered his hand, gesturing to the dance floor.

With a small nod, you graciously accepted Alastor's outstretched hand, leading the way to the lively dance floor where the band played an upbeat tune. Around you, couples twirled in a dizzying dance, with heels tapping, shoes stomping, and skirts gracefully gliding and twirling. Alastor wasted no time, pulling you in and molding your form against his.

Looks were indeed deceiving, as despite his lean appearance, Alastor had no issue effortlessly tossing and spinning you round and round, lifting you as if you were as weightless as a feather. Each spin and dip was executed with skill, his footwork was a blur and soon enough, you found yourself willingly surrendering to the rhythm of his lead. 

This man could fucking dance.

As the music gradually slowed, Alastor guided you to the side, providing a moment to catch your breath after the energetic routine.

"Thank you for the dance, cher! You are quite quick on your feet," Alastor chuckled, his voice low, blending with the fading echoes of the music.

"You're not too bad yourself," you managed between breaths, a raspy laugh escaping your lips. "Nobody's ever been able to keep up with me," you continued, running a hand through your tousled hair and adjusting your dress. "I think I was the one who had to keep up with you."

After ensuring you were presentable, you lifted a hand to fix Alastor's slightly damp locks, adjusting his glasses and tie. Alastor froze, a foreign sensation enveloping him. Despite his typical aversion to physical contact, there was an absence of the usual recoil in disdain this time.

"Looks like we're both a bit of a mess, aren't we?" you chuckled, a wry smile playing on your lips as you gracefully brushed away a speck of dust from his shirt.

Alastor blinked and eventually relaxed, allowing you to proceed without any resistance. "Quite."

While you continued to fix him up, Alastor couldn't help but feel a sense of bewilderment. He felt as though coils had entwined themselves around his heart. Slowly constricting, they didn't just tighten but twisted, sharp edges digging into muscle, squeezing his emotions into a thick syrup that spilled beyond the confines of his ribs, seeping out in a haunting shade of crimson through the cracks in his chest.

As the seconds passed, he paid no mind to your touch, shifting his focus to instead dissect you with his eyes. He scrutinized the subtle reactions playing across your face—the delicate twitches of your brows, the soft pout of your blood-red lips, and the scrunches of your nose. 

What were you doing to him?

"There you go!" you announced, a note of satisfaction in your voice as you finished your task, your hand coming to rest briefly on his chest before retreating. "Ready to head back?"

Snapping out of his obsessive trance, Alastor emitted a soft hum, offering his arm to you. You gracefully accepted, intertwining your arm with his. The energetic atmosphere from the dance gradually subsided as you and Alastor made your way back to the private booth. Mimzy's mischievous grin awaited you as she rejoined your company.

"Looks like you two had quite the time!" she exclaimed, a twinkle in her eye.

Alastor quickly composed himself, nodding with a grin. "Indeed! It was quite a delightful dance."

Just as Alastor turned toward you, the insistent dings of a nearby clock echoed through the room. His expression shifted, a fleeting shadow of disappointment and ire crossing his face. The hours had danced away quicker than he had anticipated.

Undoubtedly, the night was still young for you, given that speakeasies often extended their festivities until the early hours of the morning.

However, as much as Alastor would adore the idea of continuing to enjoy your company, the weight of responsibilities at home tugged at him. He had his elderly mother waiting, relying on his care for her well-being, as well as an upcoming morning shift at the radio station.

"It's later than I realized, my dear," he admitted, his voice carrying a touch of regret. "I'm afraid I can't stay any longer. Duty calls, and the dawn awaits for my return."

Something twisted and snapped in Alastor's gut as he observed the unmistakable disappointment etched across your features, evident in the downturn of your blood-red lips. His fingers itched with an impulse to claw your mouth back into a smile, to dig his nails into your skin and carve your lips into a grotesque display of happiness, all in a desperate attempt to restore the radiance of your joy.

Meanwhile, Mimzy sighed in disappointment, yet Alastor discerned that beneath the theatrics, she was indifferent to it all, evident in her thinly veiled disinterest.

"Aww… That's too bad, sugar! The night's just gettin' started!" Mimzy exclaimed, shaking her head with a pout. 

"But I get it! Some folks got places to be," Mimzy waved it off. There was a sudden twinkle in her eye as she pulled out a tab from her dress pocket. "Anyways, 'bout those drinks you had, they weren't exactly on the house, sooo..."

Alastor chuckled and pulled out his wallet. "Of course, my dear! I apologize, it must not have crossed my mind!"

He settled the bill and threw in a generous tip, for both you and Mimzy. His job as a radio host was quite the money-spinner, affording him the pleasure of treating others to the finer things in life. Mimzy practically glowed with satisfaction, her blue eyes sparkling as she snatched the tab. Swift and efficient, she flipped through the bills, before pocketing the money.

"Thank you, love!" Mimzy chirped, already moving away from the table as she waved him off. "You're welcome anytime!"

“I’m sure I am,” Alastor responded flatly, almost mockingly, with a roll of his eyes, pulling a laugh from you. As Mimzy made her way off backstage, both you and Alastor were left alone.

“It's a shame you have to leave so soon. I've got more songs up my sleeve for later. I would have loved for you to stay and catch the performance,” you sighed, turning back to him.

Alastor's eyes sparkled with genuine interest. "Songs, you say? Well, cher, that does sound like a delightful experience. Perhaps I can catch your next show some other time."

You smiled, appreciating his enthusiasm. "I'd love that. I perform here regularly, and your company would be more than welcome anytime."

Alastor's gaze intensified, fixing onto you with a magnetic pull that seemed to draw you closer despite yourself. His eyes, pools of darkness, held an unexplainable intensity. As his lips curled up into a grin, there was a hint of something more primal than human lurking behind his charming facade. A shiver traced its way down your spine, leaving behind a lingering sensation that unsettled you to your core.

"I'll definitely make it a point to come by," he finally said. 

Scrambling for a response, the only sound that reached your ears was the rhythmic thud of your own heartbeat as your blood rushed through your veins.

"Y-You too! Don't let the night slip away too quickly," you stammered.

With a nod, Alastor bid you a final farewell, weaving through the dimly lit space towards the exit. 

Yes, he shall see you very soon.

Cher - Louisiana Creole term meaning "darling," "sweetie" or "honey."

[solarmorrigan]

Deck the Halls - Spooky Scary Remix

For the @steddie-spooktober day 7 prompt: Skeleton Rated: G | Words: 682 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, modern AU, Steve Harrington loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is a menace Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

“Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“Those are skeletons.”

“They sure are.”

With an air of satisfaction, Eddie deposits the two life-size, plastic skeletons onto the couch, where they preside over the boxes of decorations sitting on the living room floor like a bony king and queen (or two kings. Or two queens. Steve guesses he can’t say for sure, since they’re skeletons).

“Eddie, it’s December,” Steve says.

“You know, your observational skills are one of the things I really love about you,” Eddie shoots back.

“Fuck off,” Steve snaps, with no real heat. “We’re supposed to be decorating for Christmas.”

“And so we shall!” Eddie claps his hands together. “Where should we start?”

“Let’s start with why there are skeletons on the couch,” Steve says, and Eddie tsks, like Steve is the one being weird.

“We’re going to decorate with them, obviously.”

“Skeletons are for Halloween, not Christmas.”

Eddie eyes Steve with that shrewd tilt to his mouth that never bodes well for Steve’s chances in an argument. “Says who?”

“Uh, everyone?”

“Oh, everyone. Is that all?” Eddie waves his hand dismissively. “You know, skeletons don’t stop existing just because it’s not October. In fact, I’ve got news for you, baby.” He steps closer to Steve, bringing his hands up to Steve’s hips and giving them a squeeze before leaning in to whisper, “there’s a skeleton inside of you right now.”

Steve scrunches his nose up in distaste. “Don’t say it like that,” he implores, and Eddie snickers.

“Too late, thought’s in your head now.” He leans in and pecks a kiss to Steve’s cheek before stepping away. “Besides, I have a plan to deal with the Christmas skeleton nay-sayers such as yourself!”

He goes to dig through the plastic shopping bags he’d come home from the store with, where Steve had only sent him to get another box of lights and some extra hooks for the gutters, not these new spooky-scary interlopers, who are still sitting on the couch, eyeing Steve with their empty sockets.

“Where did you even get these things, anyway?” Steve asks as Eddie digs.

“They were on sale, can you believe it?” Eddie says. “No one wanted the poor, bony bastards, so I brought ‘em home. Aha!”

From the depths of the rustling plastic Eddie unearths his treasure: two fur-trimmed Santa hats.

With what seems to Steve like a disproportionate amount of delight, Eddie sets about placing the hats onto the two bare, plastic skulls, tugging them around carefully and setting the pompoms at jaunty angles before he steps aside and gestures with a theatrical sweep of his arms.

“What d’you think?”

Steve blinks at two festive skeletons on the couch. What does he think?

He thinks that they only moved into this house a few months ago, and he doesn’t want anyone in the neighborhood to think they’re weird.

Which– okay, they are weird. Obviously. Everyone is going to find out. But Steve had been hoping that the idea could sort of bake in; that they’d have time to settle and become a part of the community before everyone figures it out, so they’d have a better chance of not getting frozen out. He’d had a plan.

But then again– Eddie is standing there grinning at Steve, so hopeful and pleased with himself, practically begging Steve to tag along with him on his weird little endeavor, and honestly? Steve would rather live as a socially ostracized hermit until the end of his days than make Eddie unhappy.

“I think you’d better find a good place outside to put them, and they’d better stay there, because if I wake up one morning and find out you moved one of those things outside our bedroom window, or somewhere inside the house, I’m divorcing you,” Steve says.

If anything, Eddie’s smile only grows. “I wouldn’t dream of it, baby,” he says, his tone implying that he absolutely would.

All the same, Steve allows himself to be smothered with grateful kisses, and braces himself to deal with “mysteriously” moving Christmas skeletons for the rest of the season.

The things he does for love.

[starry-eyedblog]

legitimately the only thing I can think of is husband!price coddling his partner, they're all bleary eyed from crying out of desperation for physical touch since he's been deployed for so long- just the pure neediness. needing him there in every way, physically and emotionally. just like him muttering small "'m here, I have you baby" or "feels too good now that I'm back, yeah? gonna take all of me anyways, love"

(the last sentence is nsfw but either way just... the reader being needy for him in every way when he returns home)

- cruel anon

cruel anon hello !! how are you? you're constantly keeping me fed with ideas and i love it. i need price to soothe me in his arms while i cry

warnings/tags: john price x gn reader, crying, clinginess, smut

you've spent most of this month in tears, desperate to be in your husbands arm, safe and sound. for some reason, his latest deployment was taking a real toll on you.

days seemed longer and the house felt too big without him. cooking just for yourself was becoming more difficult and going out to socialise just didn't seem to fill the gap in your chest.

but finally, it was the day he was coming home. you knew that his time home would fly by and you'd be waving him goodbye again, but thankfully he had been given a wee bit longer off this time due to how demanding and rough his latest deployment had been.

you were now waiting in the living room, sipping on a tea anxiously while you waited for the front door to open. any minute now and he'd be kicking his shoes off and sweeping you off your feet in a bear hug.

after around fifteen minutes, you had finished your cup and decided to go pour another. as you stood up from the comfy chair, that's when you heard the swift click on the front door.

you dropped the cup down, uncaring of where it lands as you rushed through the hallway to the front door. tears instantly pooled in your eyes, making your vision a bit blurry but you didn't care. all that mattered was that your husband was finally home again.

"hey honey, miss me?" john chuckles, dropping his bags onto the floor to open up his arms for you - which you happily ran into. he picked you up, squeezing you tightly before gently setting you back down.

salty tears streamed down your face as you pressed kiss after kiss onto his lips and face. after a minute of this, warm hands gently cupped your face, forcing you to stop moving and stare up. "hey, shh what's wrong baby?" john soothes while using a thumb to rub away some tears.

"i don't know, i guess i've just missed you a lot." you sniffle, your hands wrapping around his waist and holding on tight, never wanting to let go. your chest feels light now that your husband is back safe and sound.

john leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, "well i'm here now huh? not going anywhere honey." he whispers and you nod slowly, tears still streaming down your face.

it's been a few weeks since then, and your emotions haven't got much better. you cling to john where he moves around the house, desperate to just be with him. his physical touch always settles you, keeps you happy and calm.

john hasn't minded, he honestly thinks it's cute. you're acting like a needy house cat, and he's more than happy to treat and spoil you. the two of you haven't really gone out to be with friends since he's been back, too wrapped up in re connecting with one another to even think of leaving the house.

completing simple tasks around the house requires him by your side now, and whenever anything get's too much or goes wrong - he's quick to step in and help. you feel like you've struck gold with your husband. most people would find this emotional and physical clinginess too much, but not john.

he understands how hard it must be for you to be home alone for months on end, trying to keep everything together while also making sure you're getting out enough and staying on top of things. he's always well taken care of too when he gets back, you pamper him to the point he doesn't need to lift a finger.

this time though, it's you needing that extra support and closeness and john is more than happy to be there however you need. after all, why wouldn't he? john loves you, deeply.

it becomes even more apparent during sex, the way you cling to him and never want to let go. being able to have his bare skin on you while he fills you up is so comforting. he's surrounding you with his body, voice and scent; to the point where all you can think about is 'john john john john john.'

you cry and moan, gripping onto him while he slowly slides in. his lips are pressed to your ear, whispering filthy things. "feels so good that i'm back, right sweetheart? oh i know i know, c'mon you can take all of it i know you can. s'just been awhile yeah?"

it's emotional and euphoric, the way you tighten around him while tears stream down your face. he loves the sight of you broken before him, so dependant and trusting. it's something he'll never forget for the rest of his life.

the fact you trust him so deeply, letting him pleasure you to the point of exhaustion, still gripping onto him and crying for him. how could any man ignore such a beautiful bond with his wife?

[the-boy-meets-evil]

right where you left me | ksy & jww

(where you're in an open relationship with soonyoung, who doesn't want to come on your family christmas vacation. it's okay. you run into your ex at the resort anyway.)

pairing: soonyoung (hoshi) x f.reader, ex!wonwoo x f.reader genre: est. relationships, exes to lovers to ??, love triangles | smut, angst??, fluff word count: ~8.6k (yeah, idk either) warnings: open relationship (implied, not explicitly discussed), wonwoo and soonyoung both know about each other (but never actually interact), reader goes away with family for the holidays, mentions of christmas (including christmas dinner), mentions of drinking, soonyoung is soft for reader, wonwoo just wants a second chance, one (1) holy spirit joke, reader does make a choice at the end, smut warnings under the cut

a/n: this is for the amazing and wonderful @beomcoups from your secret santa, blitzen, for @kpopsecretsanta 💕 summer, i already knew you were actually the best. so, it's been really fun getting to send you asks and come up with something for you. i hope you like it (and i'm so sorry it got this long). this is honestly not where i meant for this to go. ily and merry (belated) christmas! thank you to @wooahaeproductions (once again) for giving me a title and to my bby @wongyuseokie for the beautiful banner so last minute.

a/n 2: i'm for real taking a writing break now because december has been busy 😂

tagging: @aaniag, @gyuminusone, @horanghater

smut warnings: multiple smut scenes, lots of kissing, so many orgasms, so much cum (i'm sorry), dirty talk, spit as lube (just for handjobs), handjobs, blowjobs, implied edging, vaginal fingering, protected sex (yay!), implied/referenced phone sex, kind of dom!wonwoo, kind of switch!reader, wonwoo is bossy, oral sex (f. receiving), begging, slight hair pulling, slight nipple play, choking, unprotected sex (don't do this), fucking from behind, pulling out, cum on the back/ass, referenced marking, referenced restraints, pet names (doll, sweetheart, babydoll, baby), probably teasing somewhere, i think that's it (i swear there's plot in there too)

“Are you all packed?” 

Soonyoung is stretched out on your bed, watching you search through your closet. You sigh when you can’t find the one sweater you’re looking for.

“Almost,” you say. 

“It’s on the drying rack in your spare bedroom,” he says. 

You spin around to look at him, eyebrow raised. “What?”

“That sweater you love? The one you pull out the second it’s cool enough?” Soonyoung prompts. 

You give him a look, but don’t say anything. Instead, you walk into the other room and find he’s right. The last thing you want to throw into your suitcase is actually exactly where he said. You check that it’s dry before retrieving it to fold and tuck away. 

“How?” you ask when you reenter the room. 

He just shrugs. “I don’t know, I guess I know you pretty well.”

That tugs at your heartstrings a little, especially this time of year. Because it’s true. Hardly anyone knows you as well as the beautiful man sprawled on your bed, scrolling through his phone. Yet, he’s also the one that seems to hurt you the most. Always exactly where you need him to be, but never quite within reach. This kind, wonderful human that surprises you with things that remind him of you, but can’t (or won’t) come with you for the holidays to a beautiful, snow-covered resort. It’s not worth bringing up again…

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” you ask.

…but you do anyway. Like the sucker for pain you are. Like somehow the answer is going to change from the last time you asked.

This does make him look up, at least. It’s hard to see the look he gives you. It’s a little comforting that he does look sorry. Not quite enough to ease the ache in your heart. That’s neither here nor there, though.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” he answers. 

“I know,” you sigh. 

And you do know. Your relationship with Soonyoung happened out of nowhere. When you were trying desperately to heal over the worst heartbreak you could imagine and he happened to be there. Maybe that’s why you feel this inexplicable draw to him, even now. Because he was the one to help you put the pieces back together, the one to let you know that you weren’t asking for something unreasonable from your ex, that it was okay to make whatever type of life you wanted for yourself. Over time, you felt yourself getting more attached and let it happen, even knowing it was the wrong choice. Not because Soonyoung is wrong or anything short of great. It’s just, well, he’s always been honest, sometimes painfully so, about exactly who he is and what he wants. He’s just not sure, at least right now, that a closed relationship where he meets the parents is what he wants. 

An open relationship hadn’t been something you considered. It still wasn’t a consideration when you first started sleeping with Soonyoung. It wasn’t until you realized you wanted more of him that you had to have the conversation. Which is how you’re here, now. Going to see your parents and the rest of your family for a beautiful vacation alone despite being in a relationship. Despite him having met some of your family, like your cousins, and the number of dates you go on. Sometimes it really is enough. Not because you’re telling yourself it is. It just is. He comes up with the most thoughtful dates. Surprises you with little things just because. He’s so insanely thoughtful. So, maybe it’s enough that he doesn’t want to come meet your parents.

“Come here,” he requests, opening his arms for you. 

You sigh before giving in and snuggling into him on the bed. He plants a soft kiss on the top of your head first, then your temple. You settle against his chest, timing your own breathing with the rise and fall of his chest. There’s something so comforting about lying like this. Something that makes it easier to be honest when you’re not looking into his incredibly soft eyes.

“I do get it, Soonie,” you repeat softly. “This makes sense for us and I don’t want that to change. I don’t need my parents getting involved.”

“Maybe next year,” he says and that pulls you up short. He’s never said that before. You can’t really help it, you pull away to look into his eyes. “I like being around you and neither of us has been seeing many other people lately. So maybe it’s something we can talk about in the new year.” 

“I don’t want it to be anything that you feel…” you start and he presses a kiss to your lips.

“I don’t,” he assures you. “And you’re still free to do whatever you want, obviously. I don’t even know what it might look like. Just, I don’t know, I figure maybe after the holidays we can figure out if anything changes here.” 

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you agree. 

“But for today…” he says, drifting off as his eyes roam over your body.

“You’re exhausting,” you complain.

“You tried on Christmas dresses in front of me! I’ve been here suffering thinking that I won’t get to slide that material off your soft skin,” he says and kisses your shoulder. “Sitting here neglected as I watched you pack away skirts and those pants that make your ass look amazing.” 

“You’re not neglected,” you tease as he presses a long kiss to your neck. 

“I’m wasting away from the lack of attention,” he whines.

“Hm, is that right?” you ask. 

“It is,” he concludes. 

“Well, we can’t have that,” you say low, running your hand down his stomach. 

“Don’t you have to leave soon?” he asks, stuttering when your hand runs over his cock through his pants. You rub him ever so gently, delighting in the way he reacts.

“I can stop if you want,” you suggest. 

“You know I don’t want you to, but…” he starts and trails off when you move your hand towards his waistband.

“I’m driving, Soon, I can be a little late. I’ll just blame traffic,” you say.

“Fuck it,” he curses. 

You drag his pants and briefs down in one motion, freeing his cock. You remember the first time you fucked him, when he was nervous that you were going to be somehow disappointed. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Not only is he the perfect size, but he has a way of moving his hips while fucking you that’s always drives you crazy.

There isn’t time for you to be walking down memory lane, though. You spit into your hand so that you can start stroking him, delight in how he’s already a little hard. Maybe he wasn’t lying about the torture of watching you try on clothes. After all, you did catch him adjusting on the bed a time or two. It’s not enough for you, just stroking him and listening to all the beautiful sounds that he makes. Before he even realizes what’s happening, you’re taking him into your mouth. Swirling your tongue around the tip and carefully massaging his balls with your free hand. You hollow your cheeks when you take as much of him into your mouth as you can. Carefully sucking while you bob your head on his cock, running a hand up and down the base as you continue to work on him. 

“Fuck, that mouth is so good,” he whines. “Oh my god! Ugh, yes!” 

One of the things you like about Soonyoung is times like this, where he doesn’t need to be in control. Where he just lets you take care of him. Lets you make him feel good. Just completely turns to putty in your hands. He’s muttering obscenities about how much he loves your mouth, how you know just what to do, how you’re cruel for bringing him to the edge and then backing off. You may not have enough time, but you also can’t really stop yourself. 

“You’re gonna make me come if you keep that up,” Soonyoung warns. 

You pull up off him just for a second to fix him with a look. “Kinda the point, isn’t it?” 

“Not if it means I don’t get to fuck you,” he answers and pulls off his shirt. 

Okay, you can take the hint. You quickly strip off all your clothes and move up to lie on your side facing him. He captures your lips in a kiss and quickly puts a hand between your legs. No time to waste. He runs his fingers along your entrance, collecting the wetness there and groaning, probably at how you’re wet just from blowing him. When he slides a finger inside your cunt, you want to pull away from the kiss. Instead, you just moan into his mouth, spurring him to pump his finger into you faster. Another moan and he presses a second finger in. 

When you first started fucking Soonyoung, you were a little embarrased about several things when it came to sex. One had been how wet you get. He had been so quick with the praise, so quick to assure you that it was a good thing, so quick to make you comfortable. Now, you barely even think about it. Everything with him is effortless, comfortable. It’s entirely too fast when you feel like you’re already starting to come undone. 

“God, I love watching that pussy suck my fingers in,” he says. “So good for me, so greedy.”

“Fuck, Soon, hang on,” you pant out.

“Feeling good?” he asks.

“Yeah but you’re gonna make me come,” you whine. 

“Isn’t that the point?” he parrots back.

“Thought you wanted to fuck me,” you remind him.

He removes his fingers from your cunt entirely too quickly so he can roll over to reach the drawer. With surprising speed, he pulls a condom out and has it on in a matter of seconds. You’re about to ask how he wants you when he rolls back over and hikes one of your legs up. This is a new position for the two of you, surprising with how many you’ve tried. There’s something a little intimate, facing each other like this with your leg up over his arm. His brows furrow a little as he lines himself up. 

“Oh god,” you moan out when he presses all the way in, right off the bat. Even with the prepping, it’s more of a stretch than you were expecting so fast.

“You okay?” he asks. Even though he wants it to be fast, he’s still so considerate.

“Yes, just fucking move, please,” you whine.

“So needy,” he says, but he still moves. 

It’s fast and a little desperate and the angle has him hitting you just where you want him. It doesn’t feel awkward in this position, either, which crossed your mind for a second. You’re clinging to any part of him that you can, moaning incoherently, about to come undone in a stupidly short time. But, he’s babbling too, uttering praises for how good he feels, reminding you how amazing you are. He’s so vocal and it’s what sends you over the edge. He follows right behind you.

You lay on your back and take a few moments to catch your breath. Watch him as he gets up to dispose of the condom. Smile when he comes back and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. He’s so pretty like this, glowing and smiley and perfectly content. So are you, apparently, as he tells you constantly.

“You have to go because I have to shower and I don’t want to have to shower again after that,” you say when you get up.

“But, what if I want round two?” he asks, drawing you in against his body. 

You lean your head to press a kiss to his lips and carefully pull away. “Then, you’ll just have to wait til I’m back.”

“Thought you didn’t mind being late,” he presses.

“A little late,” you say and laugh at the pout. “You’re cute, Soonie, but I still have to go.”

“Fine,” he sighs. “You’ll be back before New Year’s?”

“Yeah, for the party,” you confirm. 

“I’ll miss you,” he whispers into your hair. The kiss he presses to the top of your head nearly has your knees weak. Instead, you just smile as he leaves and rush off to the shower before you get in the car. 

The resort your parents picked this year for the holidays is beautiful. There’s a main resort and also a bunch of smaller buildings with rooms that are more like condos. Your parents are staying in a particularly roomy one, because they love to host, so you don’t feel too stuck by staying with them. It’s also nice because the resort is attached to a ski lodge. You can actually ski straight from the rooms onto one of the trails. It’s all beautiful and you feel incredibly at peace. 

(You also appreciate how there are plenty of things to do for people that don’t like to ski or snowboard. Not that you don’t, you’re just sometimes a little worried you’ll fall.)

The first night was just for relaxing after the ride up. The four hour drive ended up going a lot faster with your cousin in the passenger seat, thankful you hadn’t actually left yet because her car broke down. Even though you don’t live far apart, you feel like you don’t see her nearly often enough. So the car ride is a nice way to catch up. 

Now that it’s the first full day, you’re ready to explore a little bit. Your parents mentioned a little cafe in the lodge that sounds like the perfect place to get a cup of coffee. Of course, you could make it in the room, but it probably wouldn’t taste as good. Bundled up, you head down to the lodge and look out for the cafe. It ends up being pretty easy to find. And it’s not the only thing. 

It’s like a pull that you can’t explain, the way your eyes fall on someone sitting in an armchair just to the side of the cafe. His dark hair has that slightly tousled look, probably from being outside, and his glasses keep sliding down his nose. As you watch, he absently pushes them back up, eyes glued on the book in his lap. There is no world where it makes sense that he’s here and also no world where he could be anyone else. You’re debating whether or not to approach him when he looks up. The smile he sends your way has you feeling things that you know you shouldn’t. 

Your feet carry you towards him without permission and he rises to meet you part way. “Hey, what are you…” 

At the same time, he starts to say, “wow, small world.”

It’s a little awkward (read: a lot) and neither of you really know what to say. It’s been two years since you last saw each other, two years since you last spoke, two years since the break up that nearly tore you apart. Even though it’s been long enough that you feel better about it, it’s still awkward. He probably feels it too, the uncertainty of running into each other someplace so unexpected. The question of how to move forward. 

“So, um, this is…” Wonwoo starts.

“Awkward? Weird? Unexpected?” you offer through a forced laugh.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“My family is here for Christmas,” you answer. “Yours too?” 

“Yeah,” he says. 

“Right,” you say. “Well, I was just going to get…”

“Can we talk? Maybe over lunch or something?” he asks just as you’re ready to turn around. 

You’re rooted to the spot, unable to answer him right away. Can you? Yes, you definitely have that capability. Should you? That’s a bit harder to answer. Your brain is full of images of your past relationship - the good, the bad, the ugly - and your current situation. Maybe Wonwoo still does know you, at least well enough to read your face, because he speaks up again.

“Never mind, that was silly to ask,” he says.

“No, it wasn’t. I’m sorry. I’m just, I don’t know, a little overwhelmed, I guess,” you admit.

“Me too, if it helps,” he says. 

You look down at your watch. It’s a little earlier than you usually eat lunch, but maybe that’ll be a good thing. “Do you wanna get something now?”

“What about your coffee?” Wonwoo asks.

“I’m sure the restaurant has some,” you say before you lose the courage. 

Lunch is actually surprisingly easy. Well, after you get some of the awkwardness out of the way. But, it gives you a chance to say a lot of things you both kept to yourselves. Back when you were dating Wonwoo, it got harder until it was too much. He was always soft spoken, always afraid to burden anyone else with his problems. Even when you reminded him that’s what partners were for, he just kept most of it to himself. Which wasn’t healthy for either of you. You wanted things out in the open so you could talk about them, he kept them to himself. Something tiny could fester into something much bigger and then become a real issue. Even when it came to issues at work or with other friends, he was hesitant to mention it. By not wanting to be a burden, he ended up driving a massive wedge between you. And he’s able to share things with you, too. Like how it wasn’t always easy to want to share when he felt pressured. He knows you only cared, but sometimes he wasn’t ready. Sometimes he couldn’t talk about it in the moment and just needed a day to process. Something he knows that he should have shared with you, as well. 

It turns into a much longer meal than either of you expect. After talking about your relationship, you fill in the last two years. He talks about work and friends and reluctantly admits that he hasn’t dated anyone seriously since you. When it’s your turn, you stumble over explaining Soonyoung, ending up opting for full transparency. If he’s surprised, he hides it well. Seems to understand that trying something a little different can be exactly what you need. When you finally check your phone to see you’re running late to meet your cousins, you say goodbye with a promise to hang out again. And an assurance that you haven’t changed your number and he isn’t blocked. 

You spend most of the afternoon playing games with your cousins and sharing what you’ve been up to. The cousin that rode with you, and knows Wonwoo the best, is nearly on the floor when you tell her that he’s here somehow. Especially because she also knows Soonyoung and likes him, but thinks he’s not the long term plan for you. She’s a little surprised, given how much you smiled about seeing Wonwoo, at how fiercely you defend Soonyoung. It’s just, well, he’s been a lot for you in so many ways. Yes, some of it has been painful and some of it has involved learning things you’re not sure you needed to. But, it’s also been safe and protected. It’s allowed you to grow in ways you never expected. 

An afternoon of gaming turns into a night of dinner in the suite, more games, and drinking. Your cousin takes your phone and texts Wonwoo from it. Invites him over to the room to pick you up. Of course, she doesn’t tell you any of that. But, when you answer the door and see your ex on the other side, he suggests you check your phone. You shoot your cousin a look and grab your coat. He’s here, so you might as well go with him. When he holds out his hand for you, you take it and follow him into the night. 

The next days pass in a kind of haze. It’s so pretty to be at the resort, watching the way snow seems to fall more often than not, even if it’s just a light flurry for 20 minutes. There’s a beautiful, tucked away corner of the lodge where you can sit in rocking chairs by floor to ceiling windows. It gives you a perfect vantage point to watch the snow, or watch people coming down trails, watch anything. You’re with Wonwoo more than your own family, a fact that nobody seems to talk about. Maybe because everyone liked Wonwoo and nobody really understood why it ended. You hadn’t wanted to talk about it. And now it doesn’t seem to matter. The man before you isn’t the same boy that you walked away from two years ago. You’re not the same either. Both of you get a lot of time nestled away in the cocoon of the holiday vacation to talk about that. To talk about who you are now and where you want to be. About if things would turn out differently now.

It’s all kind of a practiced dance, though, because Wonwoo knows that Soonyoung exists. He knows that there’s someone you’re not really ready to let go that may be waiting for you to get back to have an important conversation. (He is waiting for you, but you don’t tell Wonwoo that. Because it may not be in the way you wish he was waiting for you. What you do know is that he’s been sending you a lot of messages. There are a lot of things that seem to remind him of you. So, he’s constantly on your mind.) And there are some things that haven’t changed about Wonwoo, too. One of those things is that he doesn’t really find the idea of sharing a partner appealing. Even though he’s one of the most secure people you know, you can also tell what he thinks about the complication of your current situation. There’s no judgment, only more hurdles. It’s like he wants you to consider giving him another shot, but he doesn’t really know where to start. 

Since Christmas Eve and Christmas morning are for family, you get a much needed break from having Wonwoo around constantly. Not that you mind, it’s just that your head needs a little space. You need to figure out what exactly you want. Which isn’t really any easier when you’re separated from your ex, sadly. Both he and Soonyoung are still fighting for space. Your thoughts are kind of a jumbled mess. 

(It doesn’t help that Soonyoung calls you on Christmas Eve. Or that the call turns into FaceTime and that turns into the two of you getting off. Phone sex wasn’t ever really something you were into before him. You didn’t really get the appeal of it. But, you’ve seen the positives of it with him. Still can’t really believe how easy it is for him to push you over the edge when he’s not even with you. And you kind of like knowing you do the same to him, seeing his cum paint his stomach after he finishes. He gets a little sappy after he comes, too. When you’re both cleaned up, he’s still there. Telling you that he misses you and that the city feels a little lonely without you there. It’s not like you haven’t left before, but this just feels different to him. He says it all without seeming to think much about it and you’re not really sure how to take it. Is it honest? Or is it the post orgasm haze?) 

But, after Christmas dinner, you’re on your own to do whatever you want. And you know what you don’t need to do. You know that you don’t need to make this whole mess inside your head more complicated than it already is. You do really miss Soonyoung and all his energy. There’s something infectious about him. But, you also know that he’s been very clear on his wants and needs, even if he says you need to talk when you’re back about what’s going on. Then, there’s all your returning feelings for Wonwoo after all the time you’ve spent with him the past several days. Soonyoung seemed to skate over you mentioning running into your ex like it didn’t matter. Or that he trusts you and that the relationship is open, which is the more likely answer. All of that leads to sitting on the couch of Wonwoo’s suite, sipping a glass of wine. 

“What’s going on here?” you ask, interrupting the formerly comfortable silence. 

“We’re drinking wine on Christmas?” Wonwoo suggests.

You turn your head to look at him and find he’s a little confused. “I don’t mean that. I mean,” you gesture between the two of you, “here.” 

“Ah,” Wonwoo says and takes a sip. 

“Yeah,” you say.

“I don’t know, honestly. I know I missed you and that I feel like things are different now. I think we could have actually worked through our issues if we were these people,” Wonwoo says.

“But?” you prompt. Because there’s so clearly a but coming to what he said.

“You’re in a relationship,” he finishes. 

“An open one,” you remind him.

“That you’re not really sure how to define,” he presses back.

“We aren’t even sure if we’d work together again and you’re already worried about what’s going on with Soonyoung,” you sigh. 

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“We’ve got history and it’s been so nice to be around you. But, if we were to try something out again, we’re not just going to jump back into it being serious right away,” you tell him.

“No, I wouldn’t expect it to,” Wonwoo agrees. 

“So does it really matter if I’m seeing someone else? Does anyone outside of us really matter while we’re figuring things out?” you ask.

This is a definite crossroads for Wonwoo. He’s always been very logical and impossibly smart. In all the time you knew him, he was one to weigh things out and go with what made the most sense. It wasn’t like him to be overly emotional about things. Except, apparently, when it came to you. So, this is a big ask. For him to just set aside personal feelings for you and consider the logic behind what you’re saying. It’s a crossroads for you, too. Because you do know it makes sense to consider exploring whatever’s been happening between the two of you. To not have any what-ifs or questions when you go back to the city. To actually explore another genuine connection so you can better understand what you do or don’t feel for Soonyoung.

Wonwoo sighs and nods. “Yeah, you’re right. Focusing on this and figuring it out doesn’t involve anyone else but us.”

“So that last little line of defense stops now?” you ask, hopeful.

“Last line of defense?” he asks. 

You gesture at the space between you. “Ever since I ran into you, there’s always space for the Holy Spirit between us.” 

Both of you laugh at that when Wonwoo’s face cracks into a smile. It erases the last little bit of tension left between the two of you. It’s clear that he means he’s going to give it a real shot to figure out what’s going on without worrying about anyone else. Wonwoo shifts closer to you, rests his arm on the back of the couch behind you, and presses his thigh into yours. 

“Do you still think there’s space for the Holy Spirit?” he asks. 

“No,” you say with a light laugh. 

“I’ve missed you, doll,” he admits and presses a kiss against your temple. 

“I’ve missed you, too,” you say. You turn your body so your back is against the arm of the couch and drape your legs over his lap. It’s a little more comfortable and it lets you look at him easier. 

“It’s so weird to me, running into you here,” he says and you laugh.

“I’d say it’s some kind of fate, but I know you don’t believe in that kinda shit,” you offer.

“I don’t know that I do, but having you around has given me a break from my family,” he shares. 

“Your family is great,” you disagree. 

“They are, but it’s a lot of people time,” he says with a sigh.

Which is why you suggest that you just sit back and watch a movie, something a little scary because you know that’s what he prefers. It doesn’t have to be some Christmas movie, you’ve gotten enough of that with your cousins in the lead up to the holiday. So, you let him pick something and settle back, appreciating the closeness. 

The movie is good, but you’re kind of a fidgeter. You make it through the first half easily, but in the second half, you start getting a little sick of sitting still. Just little things. Adjusting how you’re sitting. Moving your legs slightly. Reaching out for one of Wonwoo’s hands. Something to trick your body into thinking it’s moving. Until it’s a little more than just a movement. Without even thinking, you pull one of your legs towards you, let your knee bend for a second, because it’s a little stiff, and slide it back. It isn’t until Wonwoo sucks in a breath and clenches his jaw that you realize your foot slid right over his dick. 

“Wonwoo, I’m sorry, I didn’t - “ you start, but he’s moving your legs.

“Let’s go,” he says as he stands up.

“What?” you ask. “Go where?” 

“Come on, sweetheart, I’m not gonna play these fucking games,” he says and pulls you up off the couch. 

You’re really caught off guard, because it had been an accident, but your body remembers this. He’s guiding you in front of him to one of the bedrooms and pressing you inside. As soon as you’re both through, he closes and locks the door. Then, he presses you back into it and kisses you hard. Crowds your space so you can’t move an inch. You gasp when he nips at your lip. This has always been the thing about Wonwoo. He’s so quiet and soft spoken and unassuming around everyone else. Just the smart boy who likes to read and play video games. Until he gets you behind closed doors and a switch flips. 

“Fuck, Nu, I swear it was an accident,” you groan as he kisses down your neck.

“So, you don’t wanna get fucked into the mattress? Don’t want me to show you I still know exactly what you like?” he asks.

You’re not the same person you were two years ago, though. “Maybe I like different things now.” 

“We’ll see about that,” he says. 

Before you can respond, he’s kissing you again. Hard and needy and like there isn’t a tomorrow. Maybe there isn’t for the two of you. It’s not like you’ve managed to clear anything up. 

Wonwoo presses his hips into you. Places his hands on either side of your head against the door behind you. It’s so easy to fall into old patterns with him, where you give up your control. Your hands run along his back, underneath his shirt, and he shivers at the touch. It makes him thrust his hips into you again. It makes him grab your hands and pin them in one of his above your head. His lips are demanding when they return to yours, like he’s taking what you owe him. 

There’s no point in begging for more. It would only make him go slower. So, you accept his tongue into your mouth when he keeps kissing you. You let your hands stay pinned above your head. You even chase his lips when he pulls away. It’s hard to suppress the shudder when his lips brush against your ear. 

“I want to fuck you,” he whispers. “I want to press your pretty face into the mattress and get your ass in the air. Do you want that?”

“Yes,” you whimper out. 

Wonwoo pulls away from you and starts to undress. It’s hard to take your eyes off of him because he’s so beautiful. The broadness of his shoulder and his slender waist. The muscles that he hides behind all the layers flex as he pulls off his shirt and steps out of his pants. But, then he’s looking at you expectantly. Likely wondering why you’re fully dressed. You make quick work of getting out of your clothing before turning back to him. 

“Sit on the edge of the bed, babydoll,” he instructs. You hasten to listen to what he asks and he smiles. Not a soft smile. “Open your legs.” 

You do that as well. With your hands on the bed behind you, you lean backwards. Wonwoo kneels down between your legs and runs a hand up your calf. He nips softly at your thighs, sharp enough to make you gasp but not hard enough to leave a mark. As he moves to your other thigh, he spreads your legs further. Only places a light kiss on your other thigh before his hand returns to your pussy. His fingers spread you open and he blows gently. The sensation makes you shiver. It makes you want to beg for him. Instead, you just grip the sheets tighter. Wonwoo chuckles, probably at your attempt to hold back, and licks a stripe up your center. Flattens his tongue against you and runs it slowly through your folds. 

“Oh god,” you moan. You don’t need to look down to see that it makes Wonwoo smile, but you do anyway.

He continues to work you with his tongue, alternating the pace so that you never really know what to expect. His thumb rubs circles over your clit. Maybe he does still know how to get you going. Or maybe your body just remembers him. Either way, he feels so good. You’re entirely more pent up than you feel like you should be. It would be embarrassing if it was with someone you weren’t comfortable with. 

“Fuck, please, baby, I need your fingers,” you beg. 

“You getting close?” he asks.

“Yes, fuck, please,” you cry out.

“Do you think you deserve to come?” he asks. It’s only his thumb on your clit that keeps you going.

“Please,” you beg and hope it’s enough.

It must work because his tongue returns to your cunt and he slides one of his perfect fingers inside as well. The second is in before you realize it and your moans are more sounds than anything intelligible. It’s an unsurprisingly short time before you make a mess of his face and fingers. After he guides you through your orgasm, he stands up and leans over you. Pulls you in for a kiss so that you can taste yourself on his lips. It’s enough to make you a little dizzy. Entirely too soon, he’s breaking the kiss. He runs his hand over his dick and looks at you.

“Spit in your hand,” he directs and you do it without thinking. The post-orgasm haze still has hold of you. 

You don’t need him to tell you what to do next. Before he can say anything, you take over and run your hand down his shaft. Slide your thumb carefully over his tip. Wonwoo clenches his jaw like he’s trying not to let you know just how good it feels. Because you still know him too. You continue to stroke him and take his cock into your mouth. Just the tip, at first. When you look up at him under your lashes, you know that he’s going to lose the battle. 

“Fuck, babydoll, that mouth is better than I remember,” he groans out. His hands wind into your hair, but he doesn’t fuck into your face. You’re a little surprised he can hold back. Especially when you swirl your tongue around his tip. “Okay enough of this.”

Wonwoo, with surprising gentleness, pulls you off of his dick. You have just enough time to look at him triumphantly before he’s moving you back into the bed. He gets you on your hands and knees, presses your back down so that your ass is in the air and your face presses into the pillow in front of you. You arch your back deeper so that he has the best angle. The bed shifts under you and you assume that he’s lining up behind you. He presses a finger into your pussy again and you squirm for a second. When he removes it, you want to complain. But, he’s quick to line himself up and press his cock into you. The pillow muffles your moan as he presses all the way in. His hands find purchase on your hips as he sets a slow rhythm. 

It doesn’t seem like it’s enough, though. His hand finds it’s way into your hair and he pulls back, more gently than he used to. “Is this still okay?” 

His voice is hoarse in your ear. “Fuck, Nu, yes. Be rough with me.” 

It’s all the permission he needs. His hand slides up your body to take your nipple between too skilled fingers. The first twist has you screaming out for him, wanting him to continue. And he does, all while picking up the pace that he fucks into you. He keeps you pressed against his chest. The snap of his hips and the skin slapping together isn’t enough to cover your stream of profanities. Wonwoo places a hand lightly over your throat, using it to anchor you to him. Your loud moan and reassurance of permission makes him squeeze a little tighter. It’s that perfect sensory deprivation to make it all the more intense. Between that and your earlier orgasm, you’re a bit on overload. It’s a kind of mind blankness that you haven’t felt in awhile. Nothing else exists but the pursuit of pleasure. Your mind is totally empty.

Eventually, his movements start to stutter and he releases your throat. Directs you to rub your clit. You hardly need to touch yourself before you feel your second orgasm rip through you, coming all over his dick. He snaps a few more times before pulling out of you. His cum paints over your ass and your back. Wonwoo collapses next to you and you lower yourself down onto your stomach, trying not to make too much of a mess. 

After a moment, Wonwoo presses a kiss to your shoulder. “What do you, babydoll, do I still know you?” 

“It’s like nothing ever changes,” you admit. 

The two days after Christmas seem to pass just as quickly as the days before Christmas. Something feels like it’s shifted with you and Wonwoo, but maybe not in the way you expect. You’re still spending a decent amount of time with him, still being pretty affectionate, but you don’t end up naked in his bed again. It could just be you, though it feels like a joint decision. It feels like it’s some unspoken agreement. 

Everything with Wonwoo has been amazing, like a little break from reality. It’s been so nice to get to see him again, to get to talk about your relationship and everything it meant. Even though you’ve both changed a lot, it’s nice to realize how well he still knows you. And he seems to accept all the ways you’ve changed in stride, which surprises you a little. Change had never been his favorite thing. There’s also just a general sense of nostalgia to your interactions with him. He’s safe in the way someone says that you can always go home. It feels like falling into old patterns. 

But, that’s not what life is supposed to be, is it? Life is about taking chances and risks and pushing yourself out of your comfort zone. Falling back into step with Wonwoo would be so easy. It’s obvious that he still loves you, or maybe loves you again. It’s so easy to picture what your life with him looks like because you remember. You remember all the plans the two of you made. It just feels kind of stagnant, though. You know the kind of love you’re getting back into. It’s not even about not trusting him or worrying it would end up in another break-up. Things are different enough with your communication that you trust it would be different on that front.

It’s just, if you’re being honest with yourself, you can’t get Soonyoung off your mind. Even when you’ve been with Wonwoo, there’s that small voice in the back of your mind whispering Soonyoung’s name. It’s also really hard to stop thinking about what he said before you left. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything changes. Maybe it only means that you define the relationship a little more clearly and it’s still open. But, if you move forward with Wonwoo, you know what that means for Soonyoung. You know it means you’re going to be saying goodbye to the person who’s challenged you, who’s pushed you, who’s forced you out of your comfort zone. You’re just not sure you can do that.

By the time the last night comes around, you know that you need to have an actual conversation with Wonwoo before leaving. Life doesn’t always give you the chance for closure, so you know to take it when it comes around.

“This is it for us, isn’t it?” Wonwoo asks. 

“Yeah, I think it is,” you say. 

“I hope he knows what he’s got,” Wonwoo says with a sigh. “By the time I figured it out, it was too late.” 

“I hope you know that everything I felt for you was so real, that it’s still real now. It’s just…” you start.

“Not enough?” he finishes and you frown. “It’s okay, I’m not upset. I knew from the start that this was a long shot.” 

“Why did you do it, then?” you ask.

“Because I would have regretted it if I left something unsaid or undone,” he says simply.

“I’m so sorry, Wonwoo,” you say.

“I’m not. I’m thankful we got this chance. Now, I have the closure I needed to actually move on,” he says. 

You’re not sure what else to do, so you just wrap your arms around him. His arms wrap around you without missing a beat and he places a kiss on the top of your head. The two of you stand like that for a few minutes, letting all the feelings wash over you. It’s the next part that’s going to be the scariest.

You haven’t properly talked to Soonyoung since the two of you had phone sex on Christmas Eve. Which is actually on you, at least this time, because he’s been keeping up a relatively steady stream of texts. Asking how the vacation was, how it was to be around your family, even how it was to see your ex. And you haven’t done anything wrong, you know you haven’t, but it still feels like too much to text. It feels like the kind of thing you need to tell him when you’re back in your apartment. Thankfully, you don’t even have to ask if he wants to come by. He knows your schedule, knows how long the drive is, and even assumes you’re tired. Despite that, he asks if he’s okay to come over anyway. He even insists that he just wants to see you, sex can be off the table. (Unless you want to fuck on the kitchen table, because that might be hot, he says.)

He’s at your door in what feels like record time, puffy jacket and beanie covering most of his head and upper body. His arms wrap around you before he even gets through the door or takes off his layers. It feels like he smells your hair when he buries his face there, but you can’t be sure. It’s almost a project to get him to unlatch himself long enough to take off his outer layers and remove his shoes before joining you on the couch. Where he clings to you like the idea of personal space is foreign. It’s more comforting than you’d like to admit. You’re at ease, but your heart is also beating entirely too fast.

“I missed you,” he says softly.

“I missed you, too,” you say back. 

“No, I really missed you. My sister kept asking me the whole time I was there if I was okay,” he admits. He separates a little, but keeps hold of one of your hands. 

You’re not really used to this side of him, haven’t seen him this soft in all the time you’ve known him. “Were you not? You seemed okay in your messages.” 

“I -,” he starts, frowns, and then opens his mouth again. “I was okay, when we were texting. Mostly. But, I guess, I’m just used to you being around. I’m used to sending you something, like something that makes me think of you, and having you answer right away.” 

“You were sending a lot,” you tease lightly.

“I kept wondering,” he starts and shakes his head.

“Wondering what, Soon?” you ask. 

“Do you remember before you left that I said I wanted to talk after the holidays?” he asks and you nod. 

“Of course, I thought about it a lot,” you admit.

“You did?” The surprise is evident on his face and you’re not sure what it means.

“Yeah, there were a lot of times I couldn’t really get it off my mind, honestly,” you share. 

“I figured��well with your ex there and you spending so much time with him,” Soonyoung says.

Your stomach drops a little. “Listen, about that…”

“You don’t have to tell me,” he says, trying to cut you off. It’s your turn to grab his hands, though.

“I do, though. Which is selfish, probably, but I need to tell you for me,” you say.

“You’re getting back together with him,” Soonyoung guesses and his whole body seems to slump. You’re not sure what to make of him caring so much and don’t really want to get your own hopes up.

“No,” you assure him. “No, I think that chapter of my life is over. Seeing him just brought up a lot of unfinished shit. And then with the holidays and the resort. I did…well, we did have sex. Just once, on Christmas.”

Soonyoung nods, but doesn’t seem relieved. “I figured you would, I did basically push you to try other things out. Are you going to see him again now that you’re back here?”

“No,” you say again. “But, I think I want to hear what you were going to say.” 

“I’m not sure now is…” he starts and nearly melts at the look you give him.

“Please,” you say so softly it’s barely audible. 

“I should’ve gone with you when you asked,” he says and that brings you up short. You never dared to hope for that much. “I knew it as soon as you were gone. But, I figured it’d be fine. I’d be right where you left me when you got back. Then, you ran into your ex and you seemed happy for the chance. I thought I’d fucked up and that you’d fall for him again. I considered just showing up. I chickened out, though. I figured if it was supposed to work out, then it would. Part of me even hoped you might fuck him and that you’d realize what it took me just a little too long to realize.”

“And what’s that?” you prompt.

“That I’m ready to give actual commitment a try. That I don’t want to think about sharing you with anyone else,” he says and his voice drops to a whisper. “That I love you.” 

“What did you just say?” you ask. 

He takes a deep breath and meets your eyes. “That I love you. And I’m sorry.” 

You don’t even realize you’re crying until he wipes a tear from your cheek. “I love you, too, you giant idiot. It’s always been you for me. It wasn’t ever going to be my ex. I’m not sorry, though. Everything that we’ve experienced, it’s been exactly what I needed.” 

“You know what this means though, right?” he asks and you shake your head. “No more fucking anyone that’s not me.” 

“We don’t have to…” you start. You don’t want to change him, never have. He’s always been perfect exactly the way he is. 

“I know, but I want to. It’s only you. I think it always has been and you just knew it a lot before I did,” he says.

“Can you just kiss me now?” you ask through your tears. 

When your lips meet, it’s so slow and tender. So full of affection and joy and everything left unsaid. For now, at least. If there’s anything you know about Soonyoung, it’s that he doesn’t like to keep much to himself. It’s been so much, so overwhelming. Even though the kisses are languid, you feel the heat building between the two of you. Feel the desire getting stronger. That’s when he breaks the kiss. Your face must look confused or disappointed because he smiles, so full of genuine affection, and stands up. He holds a hand out to you.

“I don’t want the first time after telling you that I love you to be on your couch,” he says. 

Your smile matches his when you take his hand and interlace your fingers. He brings your hands up to his lips and places a kiss on your knuckles. Doesn’t let go of your hand even when you’re in your bedroom. He sits down on the edge of the bed and pulls you between his legs. It makes you lean down to kiss him, but it’s kind of nice. He finally lets go of your hand so that he can wrap his arms around you instead. When Soonyoung looks up at you, eyes full of affection, it’s just more than you can handle. 

“Please, Soonie,” you whisper.

“What?” he asks.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you request.

“Like what?” he asks.

“Like I’m the only person in the entire world,” you say.

He only smiles at first. “I had a lot of time to think when you were away. I’m just appreciating you now.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you assure him.

“I wouldn’t let you.” 

Finally, he pulls you into bed and it’s the most perfect night you’ve ever spent with him. And you’ve had a lot of great nights. He always takes his time with you, always makes sure you’re well taken care of. It’s different now. His lips are everywhere and his hands seem to need to find whatever part of you they can. You’ve never felt so loved and so safe, even with him. Even though he always makes it comfortable. You know that you made the right choice.

(You’re sure when he’s got you seeing stars from his mouth between your legs. You’re sure when he’s sucking marks into your skin where only he can see them. You’re sure when he asks you to tie his hands to the bed. You’re sure when he asks you to untie him so he can fuck you into the mattress. You’re especially sure when he wraps himself around you to fall asleep. It’s everything you’ve wanted, but only because it’s him. It wouldn’t be the same with anyone else.)

Morning comes and everything looks even better in the soft light of a winter’s morning. You’re not sure you’re ever going to get Soonyoung out of your bed (or your apartment) and you’re not really sure you want to. The new year is right around the corner and you can’t wait to see what it brings the both of you.

thanks for coming on this ride with me 💕 please reblog or let me know your thoughts if you liked it!

[sunnysidesevenup]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THIS MENACE TO SOCIETYYYYY. TILLY I LOVE YOU

he’s 25 but here’s a foxglove fic about his 23rd birthday where I drop some random lore lmao

tag list (lemme know if you wanna be added!!): @kirexa @gimmeurmoneyagh @lallopsyou

fic under the cut! :D

“When’s your birthday, anyway?” Fellow asks. He’s not particularly interested, but he’s known Tilly for long enough that it likely should have come up by this point.

The two of them are sitting on the floor of Fellow and Gidel’s small apartment (honestly better suiting the term single room than apartment, the damn landlord a full on scammer if Fellow does say so himself). They’ve each got a coat in their hands, sewing supplies spread across the floor as they carefully repair holes in the fabric. It had finally gotten cold enough that they could no longer simply layer clothing, and thus the yearly time to sew up clothes is upon them. Tilly, since he’s there often enough, is obviously required to help—while Gidel gets to happily draw in the corner.

Said man hums to himself, swaying back and forth a bit while he sews, tongue stuck out in concentration. “Dunno.” Tilly finally says.

“How do you not know?” Fellow scoffs.

“Well, I don’t have parents or anything like that! So how would I know?” Tilly glances up from his work, shaking his head at Fellow as if he’s disappointed. “Silly.” He scolds.

The beastman glares at him, “You told me you were 22!” He argues, affronted.

Tilly grins at him, “Hmm, yeah. It just felt right. Maybe I’m older than you, though?” His grin turns a little devious, and he tilts his head. “You’d show me more respect if I was older, right~?”

Fellow tosses one of the coats at him, hitting him in the face with it.

In typical Tilly fashion, he instantly collapses backwards, whining about being injured. Gidel, the traitor, giggles at him, while Fellow only snatches up the coat the other was repairing.

He observes the stitching, and scoffs immediately. “This is terrible.” He says, already removing the clumsy attempts.

Tilly finally pauses his dramatic whining, pulling the coat off his face but remaining laid on the ground—although he rolls sideways to better look at the man. “I’ve never sewn anything before, I was simply guessing.”

Fellow rolls his eyes, “You’re really useless on your own, you know that? How have ya’ even survived this long?”

“I’m very lucky.” Tilly says seriously.

“No, you’re not.” He shoots back. “Get up, I’m going to teach you how to do this. You’ve got to know some life skills! Ya’ can’t just live in your little fantasy world where everything goes right for you forever, you know.”

The purple haired man sits up, toxic green eyes staring widely at him. “But my fantasy world is so nice!” He coos, leaning closer to observe what Fellow is doing. Then, in a considering voice, he adds: “Although if it was a real dream world, you’d probably be wearing a maid dre—“

Fellow smacks him in the face with the coat again.

While Tilly whines from where he’s laid out on the floor once more, the beastman stares down at him with absolutely zero sympathy. “There’s no way you’re older than me when you act like that.” He states, voice dripping with condescension and annoyance.

“You’re so rude to me.”

“You deserve it, you absolute buffoon.”

Tilly sits up again, shaking his head. “How people act has nothing to do with their age, ya’ know! I could very easily be 4 years older than you and you’d never know.” He taps his chin in contemplation, a smirk crossing his face. “In fact, I think that’s what I’ll go with from now on! Please show me the respect a senior deserves.” He puts his hands on his hips, a proud look on his face as if Fellow would respond in any other way than bafflement.

“You can’t just change your age!”

“Why not? It’s not like I know when I was born in the first place.”

Fellow sputters, “Wh— No! No, I am NOT having you claim to be OLDER than me!”

“Aww,” Tilly puts a hand over his heart, his eyes widening in false sympathy. “The lovely younger man under my care seems to be struggling, how shall I help him?”

This time, Fellow forgoes the coat in favor of simply tackling Tilly to the floor. Gidel, of course, ignores them rolling around and wrestling, far too used to this behavior from the two of them.

Finally, he manages to pin Tilly down, and he contemplates using the coats to just suffocate him and end his misery already. The other man, meanwhile, just pouts at him. “This isn’t fair at all, you’re much taller than me.” He says.

“And older.” Fellow declares firmly, glaring at him. “Say it, I’m the older one.”

“Only children fight over who’s the oldest.” Tilly says, like he wasn’t just participating in exactly that.

Fellow just squeezes his pinned wrists in response, and finally the man sighs, giving in. “Alright, I’m 22.”

The beastman grins victoriously. “Good.” He says, finally moving to get off him. He suddenly stops, however, as a thought occurs to him. “Huh, wait. How do ya’ decide when you age if you don’t know your birthday?”

Tilly laughs. “Well, whenever it feels right, of course!”

“That’s a terrible way to do things.” He shoots back immediately.

“You wound me deeply, ya’ know?” The human sighs. “And from such an Honest Fellow, too! Surely you must be correct, of course.”

Once again, Fellow is reminded that he HATES Tilly saying his name. There’s just something so infuriating about it.

“Just pick a date for your birthday, and be done with it.” He growls instead, choosing not to acknowledge the goading. Nothing good ever comes from acknowledging Tilly’s taunts, he’d learned long ago.

“Hmm, maybe.” He says, but Fellow can tell from his uninterested tone that Tilly likely won’t follow his suggestion at all. It’s typical of him to ignore perfectly reasonable advice, no matter how annoying and illogical this course of action may be.

A fantasy world he lives in, truly.

Tilly’s words a few minutes ago pop into his head again, and Fellow hurriedly gets back to his sewing. Why he insists on taunting him like that specifically, he doesn’t get. Not that he gets much about the guy in the first place.

Tilly sighs, also going back to the sewing. However, he simply stares at his work for a bit, and then glances back over to Fellow. “You’re right, I’m bad at this.” He admits dejectedly, but then nigh instantly perks up. “I’ll just get you a new coat, problem solved!”

Fellow points his needle at him. “Life skills, remember? Try living in the real world, ya’ sound like some pampered rich kid.”

The man gasps, “Take that back.”

“Get to sewing, then.” He smirks at him, pointing to the stitching. “C’mon, it’s not that difficult. Even Gidel can do this.”

“Well, Gidel is much better than me at a lot of things.” Tilly states, looking over to the corner where said boy has been ignoring them. “Aren’t you?”

Gidel nods.

“At least we agree on one thing, then. Gidel is much better than you in every way.”

“Aww, you say that like you love him more than me…”

Fellow gives him a disgusted look. “I don’t love you at all, in fact.”

Tilly doesn’t seem particularly troubled by his words, not that he expected him to be.

Still, his eyes feel a bit piercing as they observe Fellow. The toxic green color had always made his gaze just a little too intense, after all. It’s almost like he’s calling him out for something, although Fellow has no idea what it could possibly be. It’s not like he was lying.

Tilly finally looks away, wandering instead over to Gidel to see what he’s drawing. Fellow debates scolding him, since he was JUST telling him to learn how to sew, but he lets it happen. They’ve got plenty of time, and he’ll just make the man be the one to go without a coat for a while as punishment.

(Whether or not this ends with Tilly roping him into sharing his own is inconsequential. He’ll make sure not to give in this time, no matter how annoying he gets or how much he begs.)

The bigger question, however, is Tilly’s birthday. Just randomly deciding when to start saying you’re a year older does sound like something the strange man would do, but just as Fellow had said, that was a truly awful system. He would never go about things like that, which is why he’s the rational one who is doing much better for himself, obviously.

So, if Tilly wouldn’t decide on a date, Fellow would. A very simple solution! He’d even get him a gift so he couldn’t protest. A full proof plan, surely—and then Tilly would be required to get Fellow something for his own birthday in compensation. A win-win, as one would say. Quite smart.

(He ignores the little voice in his head that asks why he’d even care about this in the first place. No need to think about it too hard.)

-

“There you are.”

Tilly glances over his shoulder as Fellow approaches, perched on a crate in a random alleyway. He’s got a deck of cards in his hands, and what he could possibly be doing Fellow doesn’t know. He doesn’t move from his position, simply shuffling the cards, and flashes the beastman a grin. “Pick a card!” He says, holding a splayed hand out to him.

Fellow frowns at him. “Not right now, I’ve got something for you.”

Tilly frowns right back at him, raising an eyebrow. He then reaches out a hand, his fingers sliding into Fellow’s hair. Right before the man can swat him away, he’s already pulled back, a new card in his hand. He twirls it around, and then adds it to his deck. “You’re so boring.” He says.

The beastman stares at him, wide eyed. “Don’t do that.” He tells him.

Tilly tilts his head, a sly grin on his face. “Do what?”

“You—ugh, you’re distracting me.”

“I’m distracting?” The man bats his eyelashes, and Fellow rolls his eyes.

“Here.” He says instead of acknowledging his words, and pushes a box into Tilly’s chest.

He raises an eyebrow, a confused look on his face. “What’s this? Are you proposing? Well, I suppose I can accep—

“It’s a birthday gift, you fool.” Fellow cuts him off, crossing his arms.

“….It’s my birthday?” Tilly asks.

He nods back at him, confirming. “Today’s your birthday.”

“Oh!” Tilly’s eyes light up, and he stares down at the box. “I’ve never had a proper birthday! Is it normal to propose on them?”

“It’s OBVIOUSLY not a proposal!”

The man’s lips quirk up into another smirk, an obvious indication that he’s taunting. But his attention quickly goes back to the box, a simple little thing that doesn’t even have wrapping paper or any type of decoration. He stares at it like it’s gold, and after a bit of this, Fellow begins to become uncomfortable. It’s just a cheap gift, after all.

“Go on then, open it. I don’t have all day.”

Tilly hums, acknowledging him, and sets his deck of cards aside to better look at the box. ���You didn’t have to get me anything, you know.” He says, and it’s a strange thing to hear from a man who’s been known to beg strangers for a multitude of items.

“I’m not heartless. You looked so pathetic when we talked about your birthday, I just had to get you something.” Fellow says, waving away whatever weird idea Tilly might have in his head. His words don’t seem to convince him of anything though, as the way he opens the gift is almost reverent.

“Oh.” He says upon seeing the gift.

It’s a cheap pair of gloves, probably not the quality of the one’s the man wears even now—but Fellow has never seen him take off the pair in the first place. How a man who wears so many different styles of clothing could wear one pair of gloves with every single one of them alludes him, but it did give him the idea to buy him some more.

Much to his surprise, Tilly instantly pulls them out and then proceeds to take his current pair off.

He’s never seen him without them, and the sight is shocking for a variety of reasons. From the nonchalant way he performs the action, to the scars that are revealed as he slides the fabric off—crisscrossing along both his palms like someone ran a knife over them multiple times, forming a strange, morbid star.

He pulls the new pair on, face unreadable as he flexes his hands, and Fellow chooses not to comment on it. “So? How are they?” He asks instead.

“Hmm. Scratchier than my other pair.” Tilly says, and Fellow is instantly annoyed again, suddenly free from the spell of the strange moment.

“Tch, give them back if you don’t like them, then!” He scowls, grabbing Tilly’s hand to pull the gloves off himself. Annoying, ungrateful brat! He could at least pretend Fellow’s gift was good, he’d bought it with honestly earned money!

“Wow, hey!” The man grabs his hands right back, lacing their fingers together as a way to stop him. There’s better ways, definitely, but when has he ever done anything normally?

“Don’t do that.” Tilly says, glaring at him. “These are mine.”

“Wh—I bought them for you.” He protests, caught off guard by the odd handholding they’re now engaging in.

“Yeah, and now they’re mine.” Tilly’s green eyes soften, then, and he smiles. “Thanks.”

Fellow has seen many of Tilly’s smiles. He seems to never run out of them—a plethora of different moods and falsehoods. Mischievous grins, false masks of innocence, the flirty smile he gives men and women when he wants something from them. Somehow, he’s never seen this one from him. It feels more honest—a genuine emotion he’s never quite seen. It feels forbidden, and weirdly precious all at once.

The beastman rips his hands away, spinning on his heels so his back is to Tilly. “You better get me something good for my birthday, now.” He says seriously, and then immediately stalks away. There’s no movement behind him, so the chances of being followed are low. Good. He can only tolerate Tilly’s presence for so long, after all!

The minute he’s sure he’s out of the other’s eyesight, he releases a breath and tugs a hand roughly through his hair.

What was THAT? He thinks. Why do I feel embarrassed?

“It better be worth it when my birthday comes around.” Fellow mutters to himself, leaned against the wall of an alleyway.

He ignores the part of him that claims it was already worth it. That’s foolish—what did he get, a smile? That wasn’t useful at all.

[97keanu]

˚₊‧꒰ა 𖤐Hellsent𖤐 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Dave Lizewski x Succubi!Reader

Premise: Dave, Todd, and Marty have been laughing about doing a demonic ritual for Halloween. They text back and forth via Skype about how silly it is that there's so many fake rituals online. Todd gets the bright idea of looking into the deep web for some really funny ones, and ends up sending Dave a link for a ritual to 'try'. Thinking it's just bullshit, Dave goes ahead and performs the ritual, but it may turn out to be more real than he thought...

Tags/CW: all characters are 18+, succubi!reader, demonic!reader, nerdy!Dave, blood, demonic rituals, smut, demonic sex, switch!reader, Dom leaning!Reader, sub!Dave, virgin!Dave, p in v, doggy, surprising dom!Dave, chubby!reader, thick!reader, slutty!reader, c*mslut!reader, oral (Dave receiving), oral (reader receiving), raw.

Be added to the Dave taglist here check out my other Dave Lizewski fics here!

Just like any Friday night, Dave was at home. He is set up at his computer, complete with snacks and the biggest bottle of Mountain Dew he could find at the convenience store. His room is dark, save for the blue light of the screen being his beacon in the dark October night. His glasses glint with the screens reflection as he watches memes on youtube because there's nothing better to do. He checks his Skype after hearing that familiar ping! and takes a big swig of his drink.

Todd and Marty are currently laughing over finding out that some parts of the internet think you can actually summon a demon. Dave watches as they type back and forth quizzically before responding himself.

[Dave]: People really think that shit works?

[Marty]: Guess so...and I thought we did some pathetic shit on the internet.

[Todd]: Right, I mean the one I'm looking at now says: "How to summon a Succubus."

[Todd]: These nerds are so lonely they think they can magically conjure up a woman to fuck them, it's actually kind of sad at that point...

[Marty] Damn, maybe that's what Dave needs so he can finally get some pussy for once

[Dave] As if you aren't already looking into how to do it, Marty. I just know from how much you play WoW that you have some sick monster girl fantasies.

[Todd] Actually, I'm with Marty on this one, you should try the ritual and get back to us. I think you'd be less of a dickhead if you finally got some.

Dave stares at the screen in discontent. He hates when his friends make fun of him for being a virgin, which makes no sense to Dave because they're not getting any either. Todd claims that the reason it's different is because at least Todd tries to give an air of not being a virgin, and Marty got to 2nd base in freshmen year with one of the chess team girls. Dave however, according to Todd and Marty, is a quintessential virgin.

So, when Todd sends a sketchy link that Dave is almost certain will end up being a screamer or malware, he decides to click it anyways, on the off chance it actually is a way to get a demon babe to fuck you.

To Dave's surprise, it isn't a fake out. It's a forum, from what part of the web, Dave is unsure. He hasn't seen a site like this before, and from a quick glance, the people talking in it are serious. He reads as users of the forum detail a ritual, and how each of them have modified it until supposedly it worked. Dave still feels pretty skeptical about it, but it seems like everyone in this forum really believes this, and that alone is enough that Dave feels a slight chill.

Dave hears another ping! and when he clicks back to Skype, Todd and Marty are once again, egging him on about it. He tries to ignore it, not sending anything back as he begins writing down what the forum suggests. Dave hears the familiar sound of an incoming call, and reluctantly answers it. Dave watches as the screen-glowed faces of Todd and Marty join his.

"So, are you going to do it?" Marty says with a snort.

"Yeah, c'mon Dave, we wanna watch and see if it's real!" Todd looks very enthusiastic about all of this, but of course, he's safe from any harm behind the screen.

"Fine, I'll do your stupid ritual and show you how dumb it is." Dave grumbles, finally giving in to the idea fully.

Todd and Marty are pumped, and Dave let's them know he has to go gather some things from the list. He mutes and turns off his camera before trekking out of his room for the first time that night to look for what the ritual calls for, or the best things he can find.

Dave scoures the house and ends up finding most of what he needs. He steals five candles from his Dad, who is surprisingly into collecting Bath and Body Works scents. He gathers cinnamon and basil from the kitchen cabinet, and is surprised to see there is actually a bundle of lavender on the wall for decoration. He finishes his hunt by grabbing a piece of white chalk from leftover summer days when he was younger, and a needle from his mom's old sewing kit.

Dave races back up to his attic room, ready to get this over with, and tries to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. A part of him worries if it will work. A deeper part of him wonder if it was even remotely possible that he could actually get laid tonight, demonic or otherwise.

"Alright, I got what it says..." Dave turns on the mic and camera and tells his friends. They seem interested, and urge him to continue. Dave sets the webcam up so they can see more of his room, particularly the bed and the wooden floor before it.

He gets started, making a pentagram and tracing the runes that the website said to put. It doesn't take long before he has what looks like a legit summoning circle, to his surprise. He continues as Todd and Marty watch carefully, and Dave notices that they aren't joking as much as before the more he continues. He wonders how much they think this will really work, or if this is an elaborate prank to make him do all this work in a desperate attempt to have sex. He hopes neither of them are screen recording the most.

Dave lights each candle, placing them on a pentagram point, then sprinkling a bit of each herb to each candle. He looks back to the paper he has the instructions on and confirms that the next part he will have to draw blood.

"I guess it calls for blood now, guys..." Dave says, uneasily, glancing back to the screen for validation.

"I thought you said after the accident you couldn't feel much pain?" Todd asks, and Marty nods along.

"We've come this close, better just finish it up and see if it really works..." Marty quietly adds, shifting in his seat.

"I don't know what you mean by 'we'..." Dave grumbles, but grabs the sewing needle.

They were right, it won't hurt that much to prick his finger for Dave. Somehow, despite knowing the pain wasn't really an issue, Dave's heart began to pick up. The wind outside his window seemed to disappear as he carefully begun poking his finger, the blood swelling up and slipping down it. Todd and Marty were completely silent as they watched Dave add a drop to each point, Dave speaking the Latin he had wrote down for the ritual. As he neared the last line and last point, he felt something in the room shift. The energy made the hair on his neck stand up, and the candles flickered despite the lack of airflow. Dave hesitated as he began to finish the ritual, his stomach fluttering with nerves.

There was only one way to see if any of that was real or not, though. And Dave wasn't about to chicken out in front of his friends, he hated facing embarrassment like that from them because it would last for months. Besides, it was unlikely anything would happen and he could go back and goad Todd for thinking it would work. Dave smiled for a second thinking of how he could get back at him, then found the confidence to continue.

He spoke the last line, his drop of blood falling onto the last sigil. Dave watched as it sat there, and for a few moments, nothing moved.

"I told you, Todd! Nothing was going to happen-" Dave yelled back at the screen with a smirk, then paused.

He saw the sigil soak up the blood, moving the liquid by an unknown force. A faint glow of red began to take hold of the shape. Todd and Marty could barely tell through their cameras, but watched in anticipation, wondering why their friend stopped gloating. Dave stepped out of the circle, almost tripping into his bed. As he exited the circle, the wind picked up, blowing harshly into his room. He heard Todd and Marty begin chattering, asking what was happening, as one of the candles fell over, sparking a ring of fire around the pentagram.

Dave tried to move, tried to do anything, knowing he should put out the flame, but he was speechless as he watched the ring bend shape into that of a heart. Dave blinked, trying to will the images before him away, unable to process what was happening. As he was almost able to regain the ability to move, your portal opened up.

You had been watching hungrily as the young man completed your ritual, smelling the virginity on him from your realm, and wanting a taste of his sweet essence. You floated out of the portal, your tiny, pink bat-like wings fluttering. You watched as Dave's eyes grew ever larger at the sight of you. You who was practically naked, a string of bikini covering only the most sacred of bits. Your pink skin glowed in the dim light of his computer, and the horns on your head gleamed. You could hear the sounds of boys fawning over you from the computer, and glanced over with a sharpness in your Amaranth colored eyes.

"You brought me here to an audience, I see..." Your voice, dripping with honey-like sweetness, yet your demonic undertones rumbled through out.

Dave could barely speak. He looked up at you to where he had fallen into the end of his bed with fear and, to his dismay, a hardening cock clearly beginning to struggle against his jeans. He could barely believe any of it.

Maybe he had fallen when the fire broke out and hit his head, or perhaps the fumes from the smoke were making him see things, but no. You really were in his bedroom, a burning heart breaking way to the hottest creature he had ever laid eyes on.

His eyes trailed your curves, enjoying the plumpness and the way the straps of your bikini could barely hold how thick you were. He thought he might just cum in his pants right then as you turned, your ass so juicy and cute, your tail flicking with mischief. He watched as you stepped out of the circle, walking over to the computer. As you got closer, bending over and giving Dave a wonderful view, the computer began to glitch.

"It seems my magic prevents me from using such a contraption..." You whisper to yourself, and Dave opens his mouth to speak, but cannot find the words. "No matter. If you wish for these humans to watch as I take you, then so be it."

The thought of Todd and Marty watching him lose his virginity made his stomach turn, and Dave finally was able to jump to his feet, rushing towards the computer as you left it to float over to the bed. He could hear Todd and Marty trying to dissuade him from turning off the webcam, obviously eager to see what comes next even if it is their closest friend.

"Wait, Dave!" They said almost in unison as Dave began shutting it down.

"Sorry guys! Busy! Bye!" Dave uttered, the words the first thing that he could think of to say. He ended the call and turned off his computer in record time, turning to face you, who was now laid out on the bed with a sensual stare.

"So, they call you Dave?" You purred, your pink eyes glowing in the darkness of Dave's room.

The firey summoning circle has died down to a crisp ember in the floor. Dave didn't want to think about how he would have to explain that to his dad later. Instead, he couldn't help but to be entranced by you, walking forward slowly, unsure, but knowing he wants you.

"Y-yeah, that's, um, my name..." Dave speaks shyly, a nervous hand ruffling his dark curls at the back of his head.

"Cute...I'd tell you my name, but I don't think you would understand my demonic language." You tease him, bringing up a finger and curling it to signal Dave to come closer.

Dave gulps, and takes a few steps further, then stops. Even if this is all just a gas leak induced dream, he still felt the need to make sure that he was safe.

"Wh-what are you going to, uh, do to me?" He forces the words out.

"Nothing you don't want, Dave." You lay back, your pink tits falling just so, looking perfectly round and soft. Dave can't help but get caught up in them.

"But, you're a d-demon right?" He has to blink and look away to keep talking, his cock is distracting him too much when he looks at you.

"A succubi, yes... Is that a problem?"

"Aren't demons, like, supposed to be, um, really bad and stuff?" He hates how ridiculous and nerdy he sounds trying to figure this all out, but he's so nervous he can barely speak naturally.

"Depends on what you view as bad." You begin, a hand lazily playing with the strap of your bikini on your thigh, snapping it. Dave watches as your thighs jiggle temptingly.

"If you think sex is a sin, then maybe I would be bad. That was very common back in the day. The world seems to have grown a bit, but we still get summons from hunters who hate us. You don't happen to be a demon hunter, do you Dave?" You know he's not, but it's fun to see him sweat a little.

"N-no, absolutely not..." Dave stutters out, then clears his throat. "But, what do you want to do to me?"

"Well, I thought you knew the answer to that, seeing as it was you who summoned me." You giggle a bit, the sound like to soft bells. "Usually, this works as a symbiotic relationship. You get to fuck me, and I get to devour that delicious sexual energy you've been hoarding..."

"H-hoarding?"

"Oh yes, your virginity at such an age is less common nowadays. It will be very, very tasty to suck all of that pent up sexual frustration out of you..." You wink at him, and Dave's already hot cheeks darken a deeper shade of red.

"But, will that hurt me?" Dave whispers, the temptation to give in so strong he has started coming closer and closer.

"Only if you care that you'll be extremely tired afterward. But sex makes most people tired, doesn't it?" Dave thinks he's heard that before, but he wouldn't really know either way. The offer sounds like a good deal though, he could take being tired.

"And you won't do anything I won't like?"

"Not a chance."

Dave stops at the foot of the bed, looking down at you sexy form. He never thought he would ever have a girl in his bed, laid out, wanting him. He couldn't have guessed that girl would be a hot succubi like yourself. He takes one last moment to decide, and his cock overrides all better judgements.

Dave nods at you, accepting, and you smile, your tiny fangs cutely peeking out from behind your soft, plump lips. You move, cat-like and sensual, getting on all fours and meeting Dave at the edge of the bed. You place a hand on his hard cock, and he breathes out a shuttering breath, the touch warm and inviting.

"I suppose we should start by freeing up such a large cock..." You look up as you speak, your eyelashes batting.

Dave groans as you unzip his jeans, his mind reeling from the fact that you called his cock big. He didn't think he would ever hear a girl tell him that, and now here you are, looking up with your heart shaped pupils as if Dave's the sexiest man around.

Truth is, you do think he's quite sexy. Sure, he's obviously a comic book nerd, that much was sure from one look at his room. But, those big blue eyes and that sweetheart, shy smile were quite charming. You're honestly surprised that no one else has already used this boy up. Oh well, more of his fat cock for you.

You watch as it flops out, and you're even more surprised by how big and girthy it is when it's been unleashed from his jeans. You stare up at him with lustful, glowing eyes, taking his cock slowly in your hands, and for a moment you think he might just cum from that. As you continue to slowly stroke his cock, you can sense how horny he is, and are surprised by the level. Maybe he will make an acceptable sex partner after all. You haven't found someone who can keep up with you yet, at least not enough for you to visit more than once.

You slowly slide his jeans and underwear down, his mess of curls at the base of his cock meeting your hand as you fully stroke him. He leans his head back, his eyes scrunched up from trying to keep himself from cumming too soon. You bite your lip, ready to give his cock a taste.

Your warm mouth engulfs the tip of Dave's cock, filling up more of your mouth than you imagined. Dave moans out from the sudden warmth, and his hips gently buck for more as your tongue swirls around the head of his cock gently, teasing him. You feel his cock begin to leak, even after such little contact, and you lap it up happily, feeling the sexual energy begin to energize you.

"P-please..." Dave barely gets out as you continue to tease. "I can't take much more,"

You look up at him, taking your mouth off and giving him a breather. You flip over, so your breasts are facing him, and open your mouth as your head dangles gently off the bed.

"Fuck my mouth, Dave..." You command, and it doesn't take anything else for Dave to nod and listen.

He gently places his cock in your mouth, slowly rocking his hips in, going shallowly in and out. You reach a hand between your own legs, feeling your wetness from the outside of your bikini, and placing with your pussy on top of it. You reach a hand up to his thigh and without warning to him, push, making his cock dive deep into your throat.

His muscles tense and he let's out a loud whimper, not moving because he knows he will burst in your mouth right now if he does. You enjoy the feeling of your throat being so full, feeling his cock twitching and aching to cum in there. You feel him slowly begin to move again, taking deeper and deeper thrusts with the help of your guiding hand. You feel a bit surprised by his sudden boldness when he reaches down, and grabs a handful of your tits. You're moaning along, happy he is getting the hang of this.

You take his cock with ease, that's what you were made for after all, but that doesn't stop how horny it makes you to have a throat full of such a big cock like his. You love the way it chokes you when he dips in as deep as he can go, your spit slipping down the sides of your mouth. The feeling of being used in such a way as your pussy tingling, and you can't wait to have Dave's fat cock fill you up there too.

"Fuck...I'm so close to cumming..." You hear him whisper, and you're not worried at all that he will cum so quickly. You're a demon, after all, you have your ways of getting a cock hard again, and you don't plan on letting Dave go on only a fifteen minute throat fuck.

Dave can hardly believe how good this feels. Or the fact that he, someone who no other girl would even look at because he's such a shy nerd, gets to fuck someone like you. He feels so powerful right now too, being able to fuck you in throat, and no matter how much he tests how hard he can go, you take it with ease. His hands play with your breasts, and he slips a hand under the fabric of your bikini. He's surprised to find your nipples are pierced, but the idea turns him on even more. He softly twists them, earning him a moan from you every time, which only goes directly to his cock. He isn't sure how much longer he can hold it. He wants to explore so much more of your body, but he needs to cum so badly it hurts.

You feel Dave's cock swell in your throat, and you're sure he can see the lump he's leaving from the outside. He shudders as he tries to drag this out, attempting to save himself for more of your body, but he knows he can't stop himself. Dave cuts off one of your pretty little moans by jolting his cock hard and fast deep into your throat, spilling over and filling you up. You can barely breathe, and the hot liquid tries to choke you, but you're no amateur. You happily swallow all of Dave's seed as it twitches out inside of you.

Dave carefully pulls his cock from your throat, and your smile up at him, cum slipping down the side of your mouth. You use a hand to quickly get it in your mouth, his sexual essence most powerful there. Dave watches as your eyes glow a bit more strongly after swallowing so much cum.

"You really did suck the life out of me, huh..." Dave says wearily, feeling the effects of your succubus powers.

You sit up and smile, nodding to his question. You feel the energy making you more awake, but you're still hungry for him.

Dave sits on the bed next to you and you lean into him. You let your hands pull off his shirt, and explore his body, your kisses to his neck, biting and sucking softly.

"I'm not sure I can..." Dave begins, but when your hand reaches down to touch his cock, he's surprised at how easy he gets hard again. You giggle into his neck, his curls tickling your face.

"How did you..." He asks, his voice full of wanton.

"A perk of spending the night with a succubi," you whisper into his ear. "Is that were finished, when I say were finished..."

Dave feels your voice against his ear, and he shudders, a chill from how good it feels to be touched by your taking over his body.

"Tell me Dave, what else would you like tonight?" You whisper as you stroke his cock back to life.

"I um..." Dave's cheeks heat up as he thinks about one of his biggest fantasies, the feeling of you stroking him not helping to keep his mind straight. "I actually...would love if you would let me eat you out..."

Dave whimpers out his request, and you're surprised the second time tonight. Most men that summon you can only think of themselves, but you're turned on by the fact that Dave seems to love giving just as much as he likes receiving.

You pull him back with you, laying onto your back, and letting Dave get in between your legs. You keep his head by yours so you can kiss those big, luscious lips of his, and he happily receives them. You guide him down your neck, to your breasts where you let his mouth explore for a while. You arch your back into him, your tits so sensitive to his touch. Dave sucks on them, pulling them together even and getting both nipples in his mouth. He remembers seeing that in a porn flick once, and he gets ever harder as he realizes how good it feels to do so. What feels the best right now, is hearing your moans as he pleases you. Dave's always loved the idea of giving, of making you feel so good, and the fact that it's him who's able to please a woman turns him on the most. He wonders what other moves he can try on you.

Finally he slips his head between your juicy thighs, taking both and squeezing them, pushing your legs against his face. You see what he wants and laugh a little, putting more pressure to smush his head between your thighs. He seems to love the feeling, and when you release him, he looks up at you with such love and lust in his eyes. You pull your tiny bikini, now soaked with your wetness, to the side, and let Dave get a good look at your cute little pussy.

"God, you look so gorgeous..." He whispers, not realizing he's thinking his thoughts out loud. He's already so intoxicated by you, and he wonders how much of it is natural and how much of it is your demonic influence. Then he looks into your cute eyes and he doesn't care.

He leans in, inhaling your scent before lapping up your pussy with a flat tongue. He already loves how you taste, and while he's surprised by the taste as it is his first time, he also finds it so strangely enjoyable. He picks up the pace, your breathing changing with it, and you give him praise while he gives you head.

"You're such a good boy for me, Dave..." And suddenly, Dave feels as if he's doing what he's supposed to. He loves being praised for doing such a good job, and he had no idea that your soft whimpers and approval were so poignant. He takes your thighs and pulls you into himself, his mouth working harder to make you feel good.

He tries to remember techniques he had, of course, searched for. He didn't know when he might need to know how to eat pussy, so he tried searching various reddits and wikihows to make sure he would do a good job. He swirls his tongue around your clit, and teases it the way you teased his cock. You enjoy the feeling, loving how he explores what feels good for you, and how he listens to your commands and moans to do just that.

Dave laps up all of your pussy, exploring more than just your clit, and looking up at you with his big blues pussy drunk. He remembers one tip, and tries it, putting his whole mouth over your clit and sucking. You moan out, arching your back into him and gripping his curls. He can't believe how good it feels to have his hair gripped like that, and soon enough your bobbing his head in the perfect motion, using his mouth up to your liking.

Dave's glasses begin fogging over and getting in the way, so between breaths he plucks them off and tosses them away, uncaring what happens to them. He's too busy with the euphoria you're giving him. He feels his cock against the bed, so hard. He is practically humping the bed to get some friction down there while his head keeps in time with the motions you guide. You feel yourself getting closer and closer.

"Put your fingers inside me, Dave..." You command with a husky voice, and Dave doesn't hesitate.

He wets his fingers by licking the first two, and slowly plays with your hole, easing himself inside of you. He can't believe how warm it is, and he slowly curls them like he read about. You moan out, his fingers are so long and thick.

"More..." You breathe. "Harder..."

Dave complies, giving you anything you ask for, completely taken by your spell, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You feel him finally hit that perfect spot inside you, and you practically scream out.

"Yes! Right there, right there!" You whine, your legs shaking and your hands a mess in his curls. Dave doesn't let up, and instead brings you over the edge, letting you buck into his face and hand.

He watches as you come for him, whining out his name, and he feels as if he may just cum himself against the bed. He only pulls up and stops when you tell him to, looking up at you, breathless and lips wet. He looks dazed and satisfied with himself, and you look at him with a similar expression. Your eyes glow and take in the experience, and soon enough you're already aching for his cock again.

Dave can hardly stand it himself, all of his thoughts are on how badly he needs to finish fucking you. He doesn't wait to see what you do next, he feels way too primal to do so. Instead, in his sex drunken state, he moves up, bringing his cock to meet your pussy. He taps it in your wetness, before playing with your folds, making you bite your lip with want.

"Fuck me, Dave..." You whisper, wrapping your legs around his waist and pull him in.

Dave doesn't need to be told twice. He slips his cock down, your pussy wet and like satin, smoothly and slowly pressing himself inside of you. You can take his cock, but that doesn't mean you can't feel his girth stretching you and his length filling you to the brim. Dave settles his cock into the warmth of your pussy and for a second he wonders if this is what heaven feels like.

He thinks to take it slow, but when he looks up at your eyes, he knows. He slips back out slowly, almost pulling all the way out, before pounding back in with force, testing out how hard he's allowed to fuck you. Turns out, you like it pretty damn hard. Soon enough, he's fucking your tight little cunt so hard your tits are bouncing uncontrollably, and your moans are reverberating off the walls. Dave's very happy he's the only one home right now, but he's sure at this point even the neighbors know.

Dave get's caught up in the moment, and grips your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. He pull you up so his cock angles so he can go deep, savoring the way your pussy holds him so firmly. He doesn't know what overcomes him, but he pulls out for a minute, and with strength he didn't know he had, he flips you over. He grabs a handful of your juicy ass, before giving it a slap, and diving right back in.

Your tail flicking with delight as he fucks you from behind, and soon enough he's grabbing a hold of that too, holding it at the thicker base and using it to keep you right where he wants you. Dave fucks you like the dirty cumslut you are, and you love every minute of it. You're panting and looking back at him with eyes that soak up every stroke, enjoying how delicious his sexual energy tastes. You wonder how a succubi could get so lucky as to find suck pure virgin nerdy dick like this. You don't think you can go back to being pleasured by just anyone.

Dave feels you tightening around him, your hand slipping underneath you to find your needy clit, rubbing frantically now to get off.

"You like when I pound you with this cock?" Dave has no idea what has possessed him to say such a thing, usually he's so shy, but right now, he can't help but to dominate you.

"Yes!" You respond, happy to switch roles however your dorky lover wants. "Please fill my pussy up, I need it..."

Dave gets closer and closer as you beg to be his cumdumpster, and you feel yourself beginning to cum again yourself. You feel your muscles stiffen, and your moans get away from you as you cum. Dave can't take it anymore, not with your cunt spasming and tightening all over his cock. He fills you up with his own groan, pounding his cum deeper and deeper with every stroke.

You feel yourself being so full, of Dave's cum, cock, and essence. You look back at him, completely taken away by how good of a fuck he is. When Dave is finished filling you up, he pulls out, carefully. His breaths hard and his body sweaty. He can't help himself, he falls next to you and pulls you close, spooning him from behind.

After the two of you finally settle down, enjoying the silence and the way each others body feels, Dave speaks.

"Not at all what I was expecting for my first time..." His voice is sleepy and deep, sending butterflies into your stomach.

"And what if we did it again sometime...?" You say tentatively, biting your lip.

"Really?" Dave doesn't know what to say, he had no idea that it was possible to see you again.

"You might just become my main meal, if you want to be." You tease and Dave snuggles into your neck.

"Hmm...I think I would like that..." He can hardly keep his eyes open, all the energy having been drained from him.

He gently holds you close, one hand softly thumbing your horns and petting your hair. You usually don't stay this long, but for some reason, you're really enjoying this. You allow your body's exhaustion to take over, relaxing into his arms. Soon enough Dave slips into the best slumber he's ever had, and you follow him.

𖤐Taglist𖤐

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[morganski-19]

The One with the Cold

Robin walks out of her bedroom to find Steve wrapped in a blanket on the couch. Face down in the pillows.

“Robs, I’m dying.”

“You just have a cold, calm down.”

“Then why am I dying.” He rolls over with a groan, pouting at Robin.

She crosses her arms. “I don’t know what you want from me. You’re the one who decided to work with germ ridden six-year-olds.”

He lets out a long sigh. “I know.”

“Like seriously, I’m surprised you don’t get sick more. You practically get sneezed on daily.”

“I have a strong immune system.”

Robin glares at him.

“Normally. I normally have a strong immune system.”

Robin takes her hand and places it on his forehead. He’s slightly warm. “On a scale of dying to dead, how sick are you?”

“Just regular dying.”

She goes to the bathroom to get the thermometer out of the first aid kit. Putting it in his mouth, she walks away to get a glass of water and some cold medicine. When the thermometer beeps, she looks at it and hands him the pills.

“Just a slight fever, it should be fine. Want some tea or something?”

“Tea would be nice,” Steve says as he retreats back under the blanket.

Robin finds the empty tea box in the cabinet, cursing Steve for leaving it in there. If he wasn’t sick, she’d let him hear it. It’s a bad habit of his. She lets him know that she’s running across the hall to see if they have any.

Nancy’s door is unlocked, like it normally is. She opens it to find Nancy walking around the apartment with cleaning wipes in her hand. Scrubbing at the remotes and surfaces.

“Yours too?” Robin groans.

Nancy turns to her with an annoyed face. “Well, now I know where he got it from. Steve being a giant baby over it too?”

“What do you think? Came over to see if you had any tea, we’re out.”

Nancy throws out the wipe in her hand, placing the container on the counter. “We should, but Eddie always puts the empty boxes back on the shelf.”

“Wow, they were really made for each other,” Robin jokes. “If only they would do something about it.”

Nancy hands Robin a tea bag. “Maybe lay off the teasing for now, Eddie’s claiming he’s dead.”

Robin huffs. “That’s worse than Steve. He’s just regular dying. Do you happen to have a can of soup I can borrow too. I know we don’t have any.”

“Probably.” Nancy roots around in a separate cabinet, pulling out a can of chicken noodle soup. “Here. I just hope I don’t get sick because of this. I can’t miss work this week.”

“I mean, you just sanitized the entire apartment. And probably barred him to his room. You’ll be fine.”

Nancy knocks three times on the table. “Just in case.”

Robin heads back to her apartment after thanking Nancy for the food. “Guess who else your grubby kids got sick. Eddie. But he’s either more dramatic than you are or generally worse. He’s claiming he’s dead. Nancy’s busy cleaning so she doesn’t get sick either.”

She’s cut off when a choked snore comes from the couch. Robin laughs to herself, taking the kettle off the stove before it starts boiling. He won’t be awake for a while anyway. She grabs a book from her room and sits on the armchair, waiting for him to wake up.

It’s a few hours before he does. And the only real reason he wakes up is because he can’t breathe out of his nose anymore. Robin gets him more of the cold meds as he sits up. Shivering as the blanket falls off his shoulders. She actually makes the tea this time.

“Thank you,” he whispers when she hands it to him. Wincing when he burns his tongue.

“I just made that, dingus, it’s going to be hot.”

He shoots her a half-baked glare. “Can’t you save the insults for when I don’t feel like shit.”

Robin smiles. “Nope.”

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1

[naviavu]

Okay we all know this trope with Ayato and daughter of some Inazuman clan, but hear me out... Ayato and nymph from Chinju forest. He found you when he was coming from beetle fight with Itto, you were laying unconscious in this pretty, translucent dress. Of course, as a gentleman, he takes you to his manor, where you are treated properly. You can't remember who you are or what were you doing, but it's alright, he says, he will take care of you from now on 👀

WHAT GOES AROUND, COMES BACK AROUND 

PAIRINGS: yandere!ayato x nymph!reader

TAGS: noncon, abuse of power, somnophilia, implied fem!chubby!reader, manipulation, creampie, breeding, shy and insecure reader, kinda lore-y?, ayato is lovesick, gaslighting, ayato is a mastermind and now you’re his

WORDS: 5.6k // crossposted on ao3 // my masterlist

NOTES: after a whole ass year, guess who’s BACK. anon, thank you so much for giving me this wonderful idea and i hope you’re still around (no mentions of itto tho, sorry ☹) as usual, college got in the way but at least i’m getting an internship this year (yay! finally getting paid lol). oddly enough, this fic was the easiest and least stressful to write despite me procrastinating it the most. i hope you enjoy a darker twist in ayato’s characterization! may you have a blessed year, readers <3

The warmth swirling in his eyes is definitely from his mother, you muse. "Thank you for not letting the history between us stop you, Sir Ayato. I know things had been rocky between nymphs and your clan ever since…" your parents passed away, but the words died on your tongue.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up."

He chuckles, surprising you. "I’m just doing my job as the Yashiro Commissioner.” He scans over your body one last time. You shiver from his gaze. “I look forward to seeing you in a healthier state.”

His scent lingers even after he leaves.

Bathing in Chinju Forest alone at night wasn't the most excellent idea.

You curse as you look around, surrounded by clear waters and tall trees. The night flowers glow a faint blue, enough for you to see a path towards the nearby Torri gate. On the side, your sister’s potion cabin is empty. From here, you can still smell a whiff of whatever Danalise was brewing hours ago before she left.

After receiving news that there are members of the Shuumatsuban waiting for them by the nymph’s dwellings, your sisters have long left before sunset, leaving you alone to bask in the peaceful forest. By this time, they must be discussing affairs with your eldest sister, Danalise, the nymph’s village chief.

As the outcast, your presence isn’t needed. It's not like your sisters ever trusted you to handle political matters or tried to include you in civic discussions, anyway. It was enough for them that you stay out of their way and let smarter and more capable people take the reins. You weren’t talented as Adasia; that birds hum along when you sing. Or Phia, whose paintings and sculptures rival those in real life. Or as smart as your favorite sister Danalise, who’s made countless nymph medicines and healed dozens of the remaining few.

But you didn’t have to be this careless.

You relax when you see your nightgown still perched by the river’s rocks. There have been multiple accounts of perverts-- ordinary men, samurais, and nobility alike-- stealing your sisters’ garments while they bathe, putting you in unease. This wasn’t your first time bathing alone, but it was your first time accidentally staying until night.

Touching the amethyst pendant of your necklace, you silently thank the Archon that no one has attempted to do such a thing. You slip your clothes on.

Well… it’s further proof that even your beauty paled compared to your sisters.

You shake your head. You chose to be alone in the first place to erase negative thoughts that have been brewing for the past week, and it frustrates you how easily it returns.

No more than five steps into the forest, a small vial silently rolls.

It was too late when you hear the glass crack beneath your hard slippers.

You retch. Losing control of your body, you double over and cough violently.

Your body falls on a nearby tree. "Someone– please– help!" You're scared and confused and alone, senses overwhelmed by the foul scent.

Your head spins. The world turns dark, and the last thing you see is pale blue hair and purple eyes.

"--ord, she's awake!" A voice calls out, and your head pounds.

Everything feels too soft.

Where were your sisters?

Footsteps arrive near you. "Good. Ayaka worries too much, and she wasn't even the one who found this cute nymph passed out on the forest floor."

Ayaka? Lady Kamisato Ayaka?

You open your eyes and see Kamisato Ayato.

On his side is Thoma. Even though you’re not close, his familiar face brings you comfort. You’ve seen him talking with your sisters every once in a while.

You sigh in relief, before tensing up again. You were inside the residence of the Yashiro Commissioner himself!

The man beside you raises his gloved hand to touch your forehead. "How are you feeling– oh!"

You squeak and block him away. "Sorry, sorry! Sorry, Lord… Sir… Ayato." You turn red. So much for good impressions. What if your sisters find out that you embarrassed yourself in front of him?  "I'm really confused. Where am I?" You cringe internally. In the Kamisato Estate, of course!

He pays no mind, a shimmer of amusement in his eyes. He dismisses Thoma.

"In the Kamisato Estate, inside one of our guest rooms. You were out for a whole day," The shoji on the side of the room is open, letting in pleasant sunlight that warmed your skin. Inside your kimono is your nightgown from yesterday. Your necklace is still intact.

"I found you unconscious by the river when I was passing by Chinju Forest,” His brows furrow with concern, and you flush. You’ve heard rumors of his cold beauty, but nothing compares to seeing him up close. "I had to take you here to be treated immediately. Worry not, I already sent men to inform your sisters of your situation."

You bow, now feeling the ache of your sore body. "Thank you so much, my lord."

He shakes his head. "You need to be careful next time. Nymph or not, bathing alone in public places is dangerous."

It doesn’t help that the nymph's reputation has weakened over the past decades. We’re no longer the powerful creatures that we used to be. Your eyes remain on the pristine white sheets. “But I don’t blame you. The potion used on you was quite…”

"The potion?”

“The thing that knocked you out, (Y/N). Do you not remember?” Lord Kamisato reaches into his suit pocket and brings out what looks like a small perfume bottle, no bigger than three inches, decorated with intricate hearts on the front. "The bottle design suggests that whoever created this is from a foreign land. Sumerian, even. But I cannot be sure unless we get a hand on another sample of the liquid itself."

Your eyes widen. “You plan to catch whoever caused my… unconsciousness, my Lord?”

“Not just plan. I will catch them, (Y/N). I cannot let this happen again, and the fact that it did shows that I lacked vigilance in protecting my people.” You think it was too much effort for one simple case, but you suppress the urge to refute him and dare not interrupt. You can only be grateful for his initiative.

He puts the small bottle back in his pocket. “With that being said, I require you to stay in the Estate for a week to ensure your recovery and monitor you should there be any long-term effects.”

You freeze and the man gives you an apologetic smile. “It’s protocol, and for the best interests of all people in the community. I hope you understand, (Y/N).”

“O-Of course, my lord! I’m thankful for all of your efforts, and I’ll help your investigation as much as possible.” He smiles genuinely this time at your eagerness.

The warmth swirling in his eyes is definitely from his mother, you muse. "Thank you for not letting the history between us stop you, Sir Ayato. I know things had been rocky between nymphs and your clan ever since…" your parents passed away, but the words died on your tongue.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up."

He chuckles, surprising you. "I’m just doing my job as the Yashiro Commissioner, (Y/N).” He scans over your body one last time. You shiver. “I look forward to seeing you in a healthier state.”

His scent lingers even after he leaves.

Nobody arrived to pick you up one week later.

It is common knowledge to Inazumans that the nymphs from Chinju Forest have been under the Kamisatos protection since the dawn of time, as their ancestors helped each other to grow and survive through different eras. The nymphs gather resources from the forest that helped the Kamisatos grow in their administrative standing, and in exchange, the nymphs and their village are protected from invaders and political monopoly while letting them live a peaceful life. When the time came that the Kamisatos became one of the most powerful clans in the country, they never stopped supporting the nymph’s village.

It was inevitable that one of your sisters fell in love with a clan member. Whoever she was, she had long passed or had gone missing—and even your sisters who have lived longer than you refuse to talk about her.

Rumors say that the Kamisato patriarch was poisoned because a nymph had wanted his love, but he only loved his wife. And so follows the tragedy of losing both Kamisato heads that forced their children, Ayato and Ayaka, to take over their responsibilities and grow up too fast.

Hence your sisters’ fear of the Kamisatos. They have been nothing but kind during diplomatic talks, but you can’t blame them for being wary: the case was never solved, after all. When Danalise interrogated every sister to tears (including you, at such a young age) the night that the Kamisato patriarch’s death had spread around Inazuma, no one admitted anything.

As a safety net, everyone kept their distance: weekly meetings in the nymph’s village became monthly, your sisters avoided collecting food near the Estate, and the staff weren’t as friendly to them anymore.

No one from the Kamisato Estate questioned this change. The seed of distrust had already taken its root.

However, living with them proved you wrong.

Upon Lord Ayato’s absence because of the investigation, Lady Ayaka and Thoma frequently checked up on you. You couldn’t refuse when they first invited you to dinner since Thoma told you that Ayaka was often lonely, and it was rare for her to hang out and let loose with someone else. The staff had been accommodating during your stay, even going far to prevent you from doing simple chores.

You felt like a freeloader. When you insisted that you needed physical activity to speed up your recovery, the servants shook their heads politely. ‘The Commissioner’s order,’ they said.

When Ayato finally arrived home, you greeted him with utmost respect. He laughed and patted your head. “No need for the formalities, my dear. Or else I shall feel bashful that a beauty like you insist on calling me ‘sir’ or ‘my lord’.”

You can still hear his pleasant laughter in the hallways after you bolt to your room. Your scream is muffled on your pillow.

Curse your stupid crush on him.

An hour later, one of the servants knocked. “Lady (Y/N), Lord Ayato has called for you in his quarters.”

Against your will, you find yourself in front of his door. You knock twice. “Sir Ayato?”

Ayato opens the door, still wearing his travel clothes. “Come inside, (Y/N).”

As easy as breathing, you immediately recognize the woman behind him. “Dana!”

You waste no time and tackle her in a hug.

Your sister sighs and pries your arms away. "How have you been doing? Not being a burden to the Commissioner, I hope?" She’s clad in her formal garments, but something weighs down her usually confident stance.

The indifference in her eyes and cold words hurt you. You take a step back and wrap your arms around yourself.

You expected Dana to miss you as much as you did, since she was the only one who paid attention to you and cared for your well-being.

Nevertheless, her presence brought a smile to your face. It felt like home was near.

You shake your head. "No! I’ve been trying to help around the house, I promise!”

Silence encompasses the three of you. Outside, the busy staff continue working around the estate. Some are tasked to prepare a child’s room.

You bounce on your feet, oblivious to the tense atmosphere. “Sister, are we going to go home?”

"(Y/N)..." Ayato clears his throat. You look at him expectantly. "Upon consulting multiple Inazuman scholars, the potion you inhaled was reported to be a… potency potion for nymphs,” He stops, gauging your reaction.

Only the rapid beating of your heart betrays your calm façade. “What… what do you mean by that, my lord?” You ask, voice steady. You don’t want to know. You’ve had enough of potions and investigation. You just want to go home.

He briefly glances at Dana, silently asking for permission to proceed. Your sister, ever so helpful, refuses to look at both of you. Her glossy black hair covers her face as she looks down.

(Unbeknownst to you, she was seething with anger. Your sister cannot find the courage to look at you.)

Her unusual behavior puts you more on edge, like seconds before tittering off a cliff. “L-Lord Ayato,” Your voice breaks. “Please continue what you were saying.”

He takes a deep breath. “The strange potion puts you to sleep and makes your body more reactive to… stimulation. It’s highly likely that you’ve fallen victim to a person’s sinful desires.”

The whole world stops, and the room expands.

Like that night in the forest, you feel scared, confused, and alone.

You whisper. “I don’t understand.” But you do.

“It’s an aphrodisiac laced with a sleeping drug!” Dana yells, voice shrill. You visibly recoil, feeling her anger come off in waves. “It means that some scum has been planning to violate you.”

“What? I don’t…” The soreness between your thighs. Faint bruises on your wrists. A fading hickey on your neck near the back of it, one that you just noticed last night. Dana does nothing to comfort you, only glaring daggers at your shaking form. Tears well up in your eyes.

Your sister prances around the room, her heavy steps pounding your head. “I told you to go home before sundown! Why didn’t you listen to me?"

“Now, it’s highly improper to blame her,” Ayato interjects. Dana glares at him and clenches her fist.

He moves in front of you and grasps your hands.  "I don’t want to delay the investigation further. We decided you can't return to our village until we catch who did this. The situation has worsened now that we know the culprit’s intentions."

"But how long would that take!" You shout.

(You miss the split second of anger in his eyes.)

You plead. "I just want to go home, Dana, please. I didn’t mean for all of this to happen."

"You might endanger your sisters, (Y/N)! We are not leading a criminal inside our home just because of your selfishness," Her words felt like death sentence. The last time you saw your sister with a hopeless look in her eyes was after she failed to catch the culprit of the Kamisato patriarch’s death.

Your soft sobs pierce the silence. "I’ll… come back for you when the time comes."

(Ayato’s hand delicately trails on the back of your neck to soothe you.)

Dana’s eyes widen, and she looks away. You don’t hear her whisper, ‘this is for the greater good.’

You’re inconsolable when the door slams and she leaves. Ayato wraps you in his arms. You don’t care if your tears soak his perfectly-ironed coat.

You spend the rest of the day in his quarters, sitting beside him while he does paperwork. He gives you a glance every once in a while, a hand rubbing circles on your back when he notices you trying to stifle your cries. Your face glows a faint red, not because of your sadness but because of his intimate actions.

He’s too close. It’s all inappropriate. You tell yourself that Lord Kamisato is just being kind.

But he’s there when you needed comfort and safety the most.

That night, you fiddle with your necklace. You vaguely remember your sisters giving this to you on your birthday.

Betrayal burns through you. You want to break it from your neck.

(You don’t.

Instead of your past, the amethyst pendant starts to remind you of the Commissioner’s eyes.)

You lose track of time. A week with no news from Dana or any of your sisters felt like agonizing years.

You’ve become restless. Every day, you ask where Ayato is.

“He’s working hard to investigate your case, Lady (Y/N).” The staff says. Their eyes that once filled with joy upon seeing you are now laced with concern and pity. “We do not know when he’ll be back.”

Being the black sheep of the nymph village is something that you accepted long ago. Still, you thought that Danalise would still fight to take you back because you trusted her as your eldest sister and your leader.

You hate that she abandoned you. You also hate that you still longed for your sisters’ presence more than anything else.

Your footsteps patter on the freshly-cleaned wooden floor. "Sir Junichi, do you know where my necklace is? It’s been missing since last night."

“Good morning, (Y/N)." The old man sneezes. On his hand is a wedding dress, elegant but dusty. The colors are vibrant and the fabric has no frays despite the old and traditional style.

You remember one of the portraits hung by the dining room where the Kamisato siblings' mother wear the exact same dress. Why is he holding that?

"I’m not sure, but I think I saw one in Lord Kamisato's office."

A faint blush appears on your cheeks when you remember the day you spent with him. "Thank you."

There was no one inside Ayato’s room, despite him being home. On the table, the rare sight of his organized documents greeted you. Several letters and a freshly inked fountain pen rest by the windows. Souvenirs from Lady Ayaka are displayed on the shelves, all with no dust. A picture of him, Thoma, Taromaru, and Lady Ayaka together in a festival is delicately pinned on the corner of the makeshift bulletin board. The sight warms your heart.

Carefully looking around, your necklace glints whilst hung on the high cabinets. You tiptoe and pull. It barely budges. You reach out and swiftly grab the necklace that the cabinet doors open.

Dozens of empty bottles roll out and you shield yourself from the fall.

A familiar rotten smell invades your scent. Your heart sinks to your stomach.

You jump on your feet and run before colliding with a body. "(Y/N)? What are you doing here–"

"Thoma!" You shout as your voice shakes in fear. "He's lying! He violated me!"

"What– who violated you? Please, breathe and calm down."

"Ayato-- Lord Kamisato–" You gasp out, realizing that Thoma is Ayato’s closest friend. "There was no one else in that forest, just him, I saw him– and he said I was violated before he arrived, and that doesn't make sense because he was there before I blacked out! Thoma, please, I know I sound crazy, you have to believe me," You tremble.

In the midst of your frantic words, Thoma appears confused. "You're saying that… it was Lord Ayato who had violated you?" He whispers carefully, hesitant with his words. You nod urgently.

Your thoughts were racing, but you knew one thing: you must get out of this place now. Thoma have always been kind, patient, and understanding, so he will believe you–

"--don't think Thoma believes a word, don't you? Leave us, Thoma."

The housekeeper pulls away from your embrace, curtsied 'm'lord' before exiting and shutting the kanban behind him.

You freeze. You should have known where his loyalties lie.

Behind you, you hear Ayato pick up one bottle. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way, (Y/N)."

You grit your teeth. “Find out what.”

“Playing dumb now that I’ve arrived?” He laughs. It sounded melodious when you first heard it; now it twisted your guts. “Not the smartest move, (Y/N).”

“I want to hear you say it. Answer me, Ayato!"

You whimper as your chin is roughly grabbed from behind, forcing you to face him. “I get that you’re upset, but I don’t appreciate the disrespect, princess. Now, let’s start.” He clasps his hand around your arm firmly. “Took you roughly two weeks to find out. Guess there's no denying that now, huh?"  

"Please spare me your explanations, Lord Kamisato," You cried out, hurt and betrayal in your eyes. "I'll make sure that everyone in this Estate knows how much of a degenerate you are–let go of me!"

“The Estate," He whispers, voice a low rumble in your ear. "Is mine. Thoma continued his duties per usual after walking out. Ayaka is happy I finally found a fitting partner to continue our bloodline. My servants always kept an eye on you whenever I was gone. I watched your every move, darling."

"Your pathetic attempts to escape will be halted, and you'll end up in your room again. Worse, on mine," You pulled around and trashed, screaming and shouting and fighting before a bottle was opened, and you inhaled that scent again. "Breathe, my love.”

When you wake, your body was already in the throes of passion.

"Feeling good, love?" Ayato sighs, lost in the pleasure. He thrusts slowly inside you. "Look at us, spending the night in each other's arms like that day in the forest."

He leers at your panicked form, seeing your eyes go wide. He’s naked, and in the corner of your eye, you see his clothes discarded haphazardly in a pile mixed with yours. "Nymphs are easily swayed, aren't they? It only took a few threats to convince them to give you to me. They didn't even want money. They immediately agreed to leave you defenseless so I could finally make a move after all these years.”

You freeze and shut your eyes in response. He tuts and squeezes your neck, so you open your eyes again in fear. "Listen closely, (Y/N). You want to know the truth, right?”

“See your sister’s little cabin right there?” You squeal as Ayato grips your waist and sets you on his lap as if you weigh nothing. “That’s where she does her little experiments, no? Did she tell you what she was brewing that day they left you on the river?” You whimper in response, dreading whatever he will say next. You don’t want to believe it.

Ayato laughs, his hot breath ghosting your neck. You shiver in response. “That’s right. The aphrodisiac I’ve been pretending to ‘investigate’. I guess I still have to thank her.”

He embraces you closer, a hand snaking to cup your tits. You try to slap his hand away, but he grasps your wrists with his other hand. "Ah ah. You need to behave if you want me to tell you the whole story.”

“I have no use for your stupid stories,” You spat.

“Really now? Don’t you want to know what happened to your sister who wanted to seduce my father?”

You have no answer. All your life, you’ve always wondered if someone out there knew the truth.

He speaks before you say your answer. “Little one… no one poisoned my father.”

You stop. “What?”

Ayato hums. “It was an accident; he explored the woods one night and accidentally ventured too deep until he was lost, tired, and hungry. Fortunately, he saw a cabin. Your sister’s cabin. Unfortunately, your sister stupidly stored her toxic potions near the entrance door. With no light, he accidentally knocked down one strong enough to kill him. One small bottle was enough to take his life," He whispers. "It’s been ten years since then. Nobody knew but me… until I decided it was time for your clan to face the repercussions."

“That hag Danalise begged; you know. She asked that I spare the rest of you from punishment and take her instead. But I wanted nothing to do with that stupid wench.” He suddenly bites down your neck, and you yelp. He then caresses the hickey with his tongue to soothe the area. “But you, my dear (Y/N)…” He growls. “I wanted everything to do with you.”

You don’t want to believe it. Under the night sky, wetness dripped from your pussy to his thighs, reminding you that his thickness had been inside you twice without you knowing. This bewitching, powerful man is utterly, completely obsessed with you.

"So I became the sacrificial lamb?" You hiccupped. “Jokes on you, I’m the worst one. Any of my sisters could’ve been a better pick.��� You press on. There’s nothing to lose anymore. Everyone you knew betrayed you.

"There’s that sad look on your face again." He gently takes your chin to face him. A look of adoration crosses his eyes and you look away, feeling vulnerable. “I picked you, (Y/N). Not any of them. You.”

"After my father's death, I was angry. I loathed your family. I instructed my people to watch out for you nymphs, especially those who dare go near our territory," He whispers, and you reel back. "Imagine my surprise when my people told me there was one naive enough to bathe alone in the forest. I had to go and see you for myself. Then I saw you… your body, naked as the night… your curves glistening in the moonlight."

“My decision was made from then on.” You don’t resist when his hand drops down to your pussy and starts to rub your folds. Your aching core is overstimulated and sensitive at the same time. “An eye for an eye. You shall be my wife, and I will do anything I can to ensure you’ll be mine.”

His hand stroking you, rubbing you in places that no one ever had, has your mind reeling from pleasure. In your calmer state, you’ve become less resistant to his touches, and your body starts to ache for more. Your face flushes at the sound of the slick between your thighs.

You hate him, you hate him, you hate him.

He grinds his palm to your aching clit, and you moan. “Ah—my lord!”

Ayato smirks and lets out a small laugh. “That’s a good girl. Feels good, doesn’t it?” He whispers, nibbling the shell of your ear. “I told you I won’t hurt you, sweetheart. Here, lie on the grass," He carefully puts you down on the cool land and spreads your legs.

You fluster at his ravenous gaze, staring intently at your dripping pussy. Laying bare in front of a man for the first time—your captor, no less—awakens something primal inside you. “Gods, look at you. Your pussy is pretty just like the rest of you. Couldn’t stop thinking about this every day for the past month since I first laid my eyes on it.”

Ayato presses his face flush against the inside of your thighs, face dangerously close to your core. You mewl– both in pleasure and shame of him seeing your intimate part up close. "Am I the first man to taste you, my love?"

When you refuse to look at him to answer, he chuckles lightheartedly, underneath, full of lust. "I would've known if you had lain with another, sweetheart. Anyone who attempted would’ve been executed and disappeared." You feel his arm tighten the grip around your waist, possessive and dominating. "Nymphs are famous for their sweet ambrosia, am I right?"

Ayato dived in and licked a strip of your core.

Your hands tighten on his pale blue tresses, unconsciously pulling him closer. "My lord, please stop! I don't want this– oh!"

"You taste exquisite, my darling," He growls. The man feels his chest emitting a growl, beastly and unlike anything he's felt before. "I could eat you up all night and never get tired. You’re the best meal I've ever had."

And he does, slurping and licking for what seems like forever while you moan and keel to his tongue. You're lost in the pleasure, unintendedly singing such beautiful high-pitched noises that sent arousal to his groin. His cock is painfully hard, and he wants to break you. He grips your thighs stronger and circles his tongue on your clit.

You feel a tightening coil inside your stomach. You pant. "My lord, please, I don't know what's happening,"

"Let go. Come," He says, and everything around you explodes in white-hot pleasure.

You were too dazed and disoriented to realize that you passed out for a few seconds because the next thing you know, you woke up to Ayato pressing soft kisses on your shoulders. "Stay awake, my love. We're not yet done."

Too exhausted to protest, your whole body relaxes. Ayato sighs and kisses your hair, fingers trailing down your strands.

He's proud of the mess he made you.

He cups your breasts and you gasp, body succumbing to his touch. You think it's dangerous that you slowly become familiar and yearn for his touch, but it's not so bad either.

With every touch, you feel appreciated and worthy of attention.

Above all, you feel loved.

You look at him again, naked and skin glistening in the moonlight. His pale blue hair is loose, draping around his shoulder like shiny ribbons.

He's as handsome as the day you first saw him in the Estate.

"Oh?" Ayato teases. "You're the beautiful one here, sweetheart. I am merely your worshipper tonight."

He positions your thighs, opening them once again. You whine when he strokes your tender folds. Between your legs and his is his cock, huge and throbbing with dripping beads of precum. He takes your hand and lets you grip it gently. "You feel that, baby? This is only for you."

It twitches on your hand. You tug it, and he moans.

"It’s—it’s big," He kisses your burning cheeks. "Darling, don’t worry. I would never hurt you. Come, put your arms around me," He places your languid arms around him. Your hold on him is tense. "It's okay, baby. You can scratch me if it's painful; I won't get mad." Your lips melt into his again; your breaths become fogs mingling. "Ready?"

He puts the tip in, and you feel stinging the stretch of his cock that you arch your back and shudder. Your nails leave marks on his back. Ayato hisses. "Archons, you're so tight… Princess, are you okay?"

"Y-Yes," You mutter. "I think so. A-ah… you're so big, my lord."

Pride swells in his chest. "You made it that way. Tell me when you've adjusted, okay? I'm not going to move unless you tell me to," His eyes brimmed with fondness and affection that it made your heart skip a beat. A glimpse of what Ayato truly felt for you; aside from his sick obsession, he was a man who truly adored you and is willing to serve all your desires. "Stay still, doll. Don't worry about me. Try to relax."

After a few moments of shifting, you’ve become accustomed to his size. He fits perfectly. "I-I'm okay. Please… take me."

Ayato goes in deep, fully sheaths himself inside you, and he feels as if everything he’s ever experienced was made for this moment. "Gods, thank you so much for allowing me to do this, sweet girl. I love you so much. Always have."

And so he lost himself between you, the stars, and the mysteries of Chinju forest. He thinks about when he first saw you and swore to himself that you would be by his side and how this was finally the culmination of his dream. He thrusts wild as if memorizing the spots with the most of your pleasure and ram himself like a man driven mad by passion and lust.

"Ah, I should take you back to the Estate after this, no?" Ayato grunts when he feels you tighten around his length. Your spongy walls feel like paradise. "Make you my wife. It won't be easy, but I could clear your name, and your sisters will live peacefully," He reaches out to toy with your breasts, letting them mold on his hand. "I'll give you the best life I have to offer, (Y/N). You'll be mine, and I'll be yours. Just say yes."

He continues, murmuring ramblings that you don't even understand because of the rapture you're in. You feel the coil building up again, and Ayato does too, as he fucks into you faster and almost losing his grip. "Please, let's cum together. Be with me, sweetheart."

Both of you slowly lose yourselves and– "Ah!"

The two of you explode in pleasure, and only the forest hears your loving cries. Your fine nails break his porcelain skin, leaving a trail of red behind. Ayato holds you closer, molding perfectly into each other as you both chase your highs under the night sky. He kisses you again, and you return his efforts this time, finding that his lips are far softer and less suffocating when he’s gentle. You think feel a stray tear from his eyes escape. “Lord Ayato… please take me home.”

"Ah, I love you so much," He whispers. He looks at your afterglow, all dopey and tranquil. He thinks about the necklace you left in the Estate. He’ll give you much, much more. "I'll make a future with you."

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

Can you do individual ot13 thoughts/headcanons of svt getting with a reader that has a really good physique and is a pilates princess? Like abs so nice and defined it shows through her silk dresses and they have so nice arm/back muscles! I’m sure they would definitely love a partner to tag along with them at the gym.

🏋️‍♀️Who; Seventeen (individually) x female reader (though I think most come off as gender-neutral) 🏋️‍♀️What; I guess you could call it fluff(?) headcanons 🏋️‍♀️Wordcount; a little under 1k altogether 🏋️‍♀️Warnings; none, I don't think so at least.

-2024 Masterlist -

A/N- Let me just preface by saying that I am in no way speaking for the members and their preferences in regards to the female form in a romantic partner, as obviously, I am not them nor do I know them therefore I cannot speak for them. I'm just responding with the ~vibes~ they give me, okay Also, I know nothing about exercise so this is all general fitness

Thank you for the request, anon! I hope you like it 💖

Seungcheol I think Cheol would quite like having a partner who works out a lot and who it's visible on. It's a sign that you take care of your body and physical strength as much as he does his own so although he wouldn't be loud about it, he'd be happy and always glance over at you in the gym with a proud smile seeing you focused on your task

Jeonghan He's a mischievous little imp so of course he'd be extra about it. Playfully swooning when you do things that require strength or flex your muscles. He'll love to buy you those silky low-backed dresses just to show off your muscles and will often have his hand appreciatively on your shoulderblades when you're in them

Joshua I am genuinely kind of stuck on Shua with this particular thought. I'm not sure he'd be all that into it but I don't think he'd exactly be against it either. Maybe he's sort of neutral about it. But he'll worship your body anyway and always give you the most sincere compliments and makes sure you know he loves every inch of you

Junhui I genuinely think that Jun wouldn't really care. So long as you're happy and healthy, he won't care how muscular you are or are not. But he will often have his hand on your abs over your clothes to mindlessly trace over the muscles. Like his own personal soothing/fidget toy

Soonyoung He'd love it. Always hyping you up and tracks your sets for you even if you never ask. He'd honestly spend most of the time at the gym standing by you and counting aloud with a serious, supportive expression on his face instead of working out. So now he goes to the gym twice as much, half with you and half alone to make up for focusing on you the whole time

Wonwoo Honestly, I don't think he'd really be into someone very muscular, a little definition, sure but not lots. Still, if that's what you choose to do with your body, he will do his best to support you while always making sure you don't go over the top and actually are doing it in a healthy way just for you, not for the sake of impressing others

Woozi Another one who doesn't much care. He'll like that you work out and you can share that together but it also wouldn't much bother him if you didn't either. But he also does like it for the fact that your regular workouts means he gets to the gym more regularly and doesn't get caught up in his work or lounging at home as much as before your gym dates started

Seokmin He's confused by how into it he is. He never thought he'd like a woman who isn't feminine but man, his eyes are always glued to the definition of your muscles at every chance. Full on big ol round eyes glued to the lines of your body, this man is utterly whipped He will definitely have his hands on you as much as he can to feel the natural flex of muscles under his fingers so you better be okay with copious skinship

Mingyu Number one hype man for real. As much as he wants to be that couple who works out together, you can't because he genuinely has almost scared you into dropping weights on your foot on more than one occasion from his sudden catcalls and yells of your name in support. He means well though, he just gets too excited seeing his baby killing it at the gym He regularly makes you flex for him then giggles and squeezes your muscles appreciatively before he flexes and makes you touch his in return

Minghao I'm kind of stuck between he isn't really into a lot of muscle on a partner at all and he doesn't really care either way. I think maybe he's somewhere in the middle where he will appreciate a certain amount of definition, like a flat stomach but when it turns to a six-pack he's not really into it. He'd love you regardless but it wouldn't be his preference

Seungkwan I don't think Seungkwan would be into a very muscular partner at all. He can appreciate the time and effort of course that getting such a physique takes. And he will be very impressed in general but I can't really imagine him being attracted to that in a partner though as a friend, he'd hype the shit out of you at every chance

Vernon Dude doesn't much care what you look like so long as you have a general sense of pride in your appearance to not look like a slob and eat relatively healthy. You got soft bits? Great! Got muscles? Great! Got neither? Great! Dude does not care, just wants to hold you and be held regardless of the type of body you have Though he will support you in your exercise routines and you might even be able to convince him to work out with you once or twice, though he mostly just makes you a workout mix, hands you a water bottle and sends you off with a "have fun sweating around strangers while I watch movies"

Chan This sweetheart will always support his partner in their interests. He's likely to even sign you up for classes together (with your consent of course) and do research into your preferred methods of exercise or sport. He'll very likely get very into it himself and proudly call you from across the gym when he hits a new achievement that he's learned because of you If you want to dress up in ways to showcase your muscles, he'll love it, but if you'd prefer to keep it to yourself for whatever reason, he'd still love it. He just really loves you and everything you do, you know. (I am a firm supporter of the simp chan agenda okay)

A/N- I genuinely felt really mean on the ones I said wouldn't be into it, I don't want to offend anyone

If you have any ideas/suggestions of what I could write next, send an ask after checking this post where you can find the guidelines about what I will or will not write

[copperbadge]

Supposedly, people with Anphantasia don't get scared reading scary stories, or at least not much. Is that true with you if you ever read Horror?

You know, I'd never thought about it, but I suppose it is. To an extent, anyway.

Follows a discussion of my relationship to horror prose and media; if you don't know what aphantasia is, as many people coming to this tumblr don't, I have a tag for it here that may help -- it's basically the lack of a "mind's eye", a visual imagination, so I hear/read things and don't see an image of them in my mind. If you are scoffing right now that nobody actually has a mind's eye, congratulations, you may also have aphantasia. The articles linked in the tag will be useful to you.

I have definitely been scared by prose before but it's very rare, and not much since I was a child, when the stories I found scary were preying on fears I already had. I loved the Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark books, and I think it's not unusual that I found the illustrations more frightening than the prose, but the only story that ever scared me was the one about the vampire who kept trying to grab a kid through a window -- because I had a window over my bed in my childhood bedroom and I was terrified I'd look up to see someone looking down at me through it. Likewise, as an adult, the only content in horror I find scary is what I think of as "mind horror" -- the loss of faculty or the loss of awareness of faculty (think the end scene of the novel Hannibal with the brain). Which is one of my biggest fears.

I don't read much horror because generally I get bored, which has in the past made me feel faintly appalled at myself, but which now makes more sense. Certainly I have no interest in slasher-style gore in prose, because I find it uninteresting and it goes on a really long time, while I don't watch it in movies/TV because the visual is upsetting -- so if I was getting the visual from the prose I might react more emotionally. I am a fan of Stephen King but mostly his early work where he was shorter on suspense, and I was reading it because I liked the ideas and the characters. Carrie is super interesting because of the personalities involved, not because of the violence or the horror aspects. But I've never seen a movie adaptation and I can imagine I would be deeply unsettled if not distraught by certain scenes if depicted visually. Although I didn't find the Hannibal TV series super upsetting (I mostly was put off by how bad I imagined Will smelled) so perhaps body horror just doesn't do it for me.

This may also explain my hard-no on zombie media, because I'm not scared at all of zombies, I just find them boring and gross, and that leaves the post-apocalyptic humans. My hard-no on post-apocalypse anything is an aversion to imagining the end of my world, though, which isn't visual, it's conceptual, and not scary, just upsetting.

Like, people kept suggesting Zombies Run! to me when I was taking up running and -- well, one, I needed the music to keep my pace, I didn't want it interrupted. But two, I didn't see why a bunch of random groaning noises would make me run faster. If you could see zombies chasing you in your head, yeah, that'd probably be more motivating.

It kind of explains too why I haven't written much horror. I used to be very curious about how people worked out what's "scary" in horror prose and I guess part of the curiosity came from not experiencing it myself. It's tough to know how to write a scary story when stories don't scare you.

To be clear, I definitely experience fear. Reading Stephen King's "It" didn't really scare me, but there were scary moments in the film adaptations. I startle at jumpscares. There's plenty of stuff in real life that I'm scared of. And even podcasts -- I don't get mental images during podcasts like apparently most people do, but Magnus Archives got me with the "digging into your pre-existing fears" thing once or twice, and while I didn't finish The Left Right Game (I just got bored) the hitchhiker scene definitely got me. But I think, unless it's playing on something conceptual that already existed, yeah, I don't find prose particularly frightening.

Huh. This feels like the kind of thing that could have a significant impact on my creative output if I could crowbar my way into it. Knowing that I as an aphantic don't need descriptions that other people do has already, I think, impacted my editing process, but this feels like it maybe would somehow have an effect on the whole thing -- the fact that I don't experience emotions when reading in the same way other people do because I don't get the visuals is something to meditate on.

How the fuck did I ever even become a writer. Like what's up with that.

(Ironically it was X-Files fanfic. X-Files, a show that very much did scare me, for which I wrote and read a lot of fanfic, none of which did...yikes. Well, that's something to meditate on for the weekend.)

[eccentricgrace]

silly texts || peter parker

summary: as you could guess. a compilation of silly texts between peter and co.

tags: humor, fluff, memes, texting fic

wc: 1,686

cross-posted on wattpad under the same name!

fos crew

arachkid: dude i cannot keep swinging past madison square garden

arachkid: i don't even know how it's possible but they keep thinking i'm not real and now i have an ice-cream stain on my suit

Nedward: DID THEY THROW ICECREAM AT YOU

Nedward: LMFAOOOOOOO

arachkid: i just don't understand how would i be a fake

arachkid: i am literally IN THE AIR

em jay: average new yorker versus common sense

Nedward: If only they could see your glorious muscles from the ground

Nedward: then there would be no doubt

arachkid: i'm so tired 😭

em jay: are you coming to class tmrw peter

arachkid: yeah! why

em jay: think about it

arachkid: thinking

need leds

peper partker: help

need leds: Tomorrow is decathlon lol

fos crew

arachkid: yes im coming to decathlon

em jay: Ned.

Nedward: he ASKED

em jay: i'm putting you both next to flash

em jay: table for people with no backbone

arachkid: ☹️

Nedward: Booo! Flash is gonna make me answer his quiz questions if you sit me next to him

arachkid: what's the quiz on

Nedward: history

arachkid: he's asking you for history???

em jay: may his grades rest in peace

Nedward: [attached image]

em jay: lol

arachkid: ohs hit got to go i hear distress

Nedward: "i hear distress" bro thinks he's an avenger

em jay: honorary avenger

Nedward: Dont get shot again tho pete thanks for keeping our city safe n all that 🫡

em jay: the fact that you have to say "again"

Nedward: HES JUST

Nedward: I THOUGHT HE COULD DUCK BULLETS AND STUFF

Nedward: THE LITERAL BLOOD STAINS ON MY CARPET SAYS OTHERWISE

em jay: skill issue just clean blood better

Nedward: you say that like you just KNOW how to clean blood. like that's a normal thing

em jay: think about it

Nedward: Thinking

Nedward: shit nvm I cant even ask Peter for backup bc he's on patrol

Nedward: I'm just gonna go with the cool mysterious idea that you're up to some shady business and I'm not going to ask questions about it

em jay: [attached image]

em jay: ok i KNOW you took a health class

em jay: the american education system is terrible but don't let me down like this

Nedward: OHHHH

Nedward: the monthly witch's sacrament

em jay: everyday i ask god why i'm friends with you two and everyday she refuses to answer me

arachkid: i was gone for five seconds hwhat

em jay: welcome back public enemy no1 what was the distress

arachkid: ok i'm gomna choose not to read into what you just called me there

arachkid: anyways hotdog guy arguing w the slushy guy again

Nedward: AINT NO WAY

em jay: ???again?????

Nedward: MJ DO YOU NOTCKNOW ABOUT THE SLUSHY HOTDOG FEUD

em jay: wtf are you talking about

em jay: wait is this what you meant when you told me the other day to not buy hotdogs off 3rd ave

arachkid: no that's different

Nedward: Wait What's wrong w the hotdog stand on 3rd

arachkid: i've had to talk to him like three times on patrol to stop creeping on girls that r walking by

em jay: gross. what's his ip

em jay: ned

Nedward: Are you trying to get me to use my powers for evil

em jay: does this look like evil-doing to you

Nedward: .

Nedward: Give me one second

arachkid: no need

arachkid: Mr stark is already taking care of it

arachkid: so if he suddenly goes missing don't question it too much

em jay: won't need to question it at all if i get to him first

arachkid: terrifying!

Nedward: I love that it's not directed at us anymore though

em jay: ok but can we go back to the 'slushy dog' feud peter you still haven't answered what the hell that means

arachkid: oh yeah so basically on 71st st there's this slushy guy that keeps coming up with the most disgusting flavors i've ever imagined in my life

arachkid: last time i swung by this guy was doing pickle slushies or something like i can't make this stuff up

Nedward: [attached image]

Nedward: FOUL

Nedward: Didnt you say one time he had done toothpaste slushy

arachkid: yes.

em jay: hm

arachkid: so slushy guy is infamous in that part of the neighborhood basically

arachkid: but then there's HOTDOG GUY

Nedward: Hotdog guy MVP

arachkid: he's new i think?? but he strolled up and he's like, he's the most serious hot dog guy

arachkid: like ever, probably

em jay: can one be serious about hot dogs?

arachkid: this guy can. this guy can

arachkid: apparently he's from chicago so he's like, he makes chicago hot dogs ?? and he hates slushy guy. he literally. he hates slushy guy so much

arachkid: and slushy guy is so funny abt it bc he keeps setting up right next to him and asking him about whether he thinks mustard or ketchup slushies would be a hit and rhat they could be business partners

arachkid: i have had to break up a fight like every two weeks it's insane

em jay: enemies to lovers slow burn 500k word

Nedward: Whaf does that mean💀

em jay: you're unbelievable

arachkid: [attached image]

le artiste

sunshine incarnate: MJ

sunshine incarnate: MJ

sunshine incarnate: MJ

le artiste: what

le artiste: are u ok

le artiste: are you dying

sunshine incarnate: no

le artiste: no you're not ok or no you're not dying

sunshine incarnate: no i'm fine

sunshine incarnate: can you help me i'm doing lit homework

le artiste: sorry i can't read

sunshine incarnate: MJ PLEASE

sunshine incarnate: what are you doing

le artiste: rereading pride and prejudice

sunshine incarnate: thafs not the book we're doing the report on??

sunshine incarnate: wait shit is it

sunshine incarnate: do i have the wrong book

le artiste: no of course it's not you're not that stupid

le artiste: ... what book do you have though.

sunshine incarnate: photo of dorian grey

le artiste: ... picture

sunshine incarnate: hm?

le artiste: picture of dorian grey

sunshine incarnate: oh my bad

le artiste: either way. so sorry to tell you but

sunshine incarnate: no...

le artiste: you have the wrong book

le artiste: that's the one she assigned to the honors class

sunshine incarnate: aurghrhhh

sunshine incarnate: do you know which one do i need

le artiste: your period was assigned wuthering heights

le artiste: do you have a copy

sunshine incarnate: i'll look around, may might

le artiste: do you have patrol tonight?

sunshine incarnate: mmm nope i finished earlier why

le artiste: come on over, ill lend you my copy

sunshine incarnate: really!!!

le artiste: yeah

le artiste: get here in fifteen minutes and you won't miss mr darcy proposing

sunshine incarnate:

le artiste: bring your homework with you

le artiste: nerd

flash (not gordon)

flash (not gordon): PETER

penis parker: oh my god what

penis parker: why are you yelling

flash (not gordon): Caps lock

flash (not gordon): Didn't mean to

penis parker: what is it

flash (not gordon): Were presenting our phys thing tomorrow

penis parker: yeah i know??

flash (not gordon): Don't skip

penis parker: was not planning to

thee tony stark

thee tony stark: Get out of school free card.

thee tony stark: Trouble downtown, would be a good opportunity for some training. What say you?

spidey-kid: hes

spidey-kid: jges

spidey-kid: fhes

spidey-kid: tes

thee tony stark: Don't hurt yourself.

spidey-kid: yes

spidey-kid: gotta be back in school for fourth period though

thee tony stark: Sure.

spidey-kid: ok so do you want me to swing over there or do you have other plans

thee tony stark: I'm outside.

spidey-kid: oh! ok

spidey-kid: do i wear my suit outside?

thee tony stark: Not unless you want Martha down the hall knowing that you're Spider-Man.

spidey-kid: i don't live next to a martha??

spidey-kid: oh you were joking

thee tony stark: Get outside, kid.

spidey-kid: brt

flash (not gordon)

flash (not gordon): Peter

flash (not gordon): Where the hell are you

flash (not gordon): Peter we present third in the class

flash (not gordon): YOU SAID YOU WERENT SKIPPING YOU ASSHOLE

flash (not gordon): [attached image]

flash (not gordon): Second presenters are up Peter I swear to god

flash (not gordon): WHERE ARE YOU!!!!

flash (not gordon): 😡😡😡😡😡😡

flash (not gordon): PETER!!!!

penis parker: SrIRY IA AM RRNTING TO CLASF RIGHT NIW

flash (not gordon): You are the WORST

fos crew

em jay: we as a society need to make sure peter doesn't walk through the school doors without being thoroughly checked for evidence

Nedward: Ayo??

arachkid: i dont wanna talk about it

em jay: too bad! guess what i just watched this loser do

Nedward: What did he do💀💀

em jay: bro gave an entire presentation with flash and the whole time is mask is STICKING OUT OF HIS BACK POCKET

Nedward: PETER💀💀💀💀💀

em jay: from me trying to let him know that, his mask is sticking out of his pocket, to flash trying to subtly sneak over to help hide it from everyone else, to peter who won't shut up about magnetism

em jay: what a class. holy shit

Nedward: I wish I had physics with you guys my class was boring as hell

Nedward: Did flash actually succeed

em jay: i mean

em jay: ok so he got close enough to grab the mask but then peter must have bugged out or something bc he stopped talking very suddenly and was holding flash's arm

em jay: so the mask was just. sitting there. and of course both of them are now looking like fish out of water so i said a joke and had to deflect for them

Nedward: Michelle jones mvp where would we be without you

em jay: i dread to imagine it

arachkid: i have had a very long and hard day

Nedward: It's fine dude!! now you can just solo as our school's infamous spider-man cosplayer

em jay: gonna have to battle flash for the spidey no1 fan title

arachkid: everyone in this group chat is so mean to me

[buddiekinard]

several sentences sunday

so no one tagged me (this week) but this is the first time in a while i actually have something i'm actively working on. i posted something maybe last week or two weeks ago but that version of the story has actually been scrapped because i regathered my thoughts. anyway i wrote a couple thousand words today and i just wanted to post a little bit of it. i don't think i've been this invested in/stressed about writing something for a very long time. i've been plotting out this fic for months and i've been living and breathing it, so here's a little bit of it for you.

'tis the damn season au, buddie, aka the fic where buck and his parents moved to el paso and buck went to high school with eddie and shannon, and now he's coming back for a visit (set in 911-time during s3 when buck isn't allowed back to work - instead of suing everyone, buck goes home)

His phone starts ringing.  Of course Eddie hadn’t just texted back. 

Of course Eddie is calling him.

“Hey.” “Hey, Evan.  I wasn’t sure you’d ever want to speak again.”

“Please, call me Buck.  Everyone calls me Buck.”

“Right,” Eddie says.  “Right, you said that.”

“I’m in El Paso.” Buck fumbles with the hem of his t-shirt, nervously.  It’s so annoying that he hasn’t just let himself turn up to Eddie’s parents, asking where he can find Eddie.  Helena had always loved him.  She wouldn’t question his presence even a little bit.  She would probably give him a big hug and invite him in for coffee.  He’s just not sure he has that right or place in Eddie’s life anymore.

After all, he was the one who’d taken off.

“You’re - “ There’s a long pause on the other end of the line and then Buck hears the click of a door.  “You’re here?”

“Yeah, I had to get out of LA.  I was feeling a little suffocated and a lot lost.  I’m at my parents’ house.”

“Did you talk to Shannon?”

“Yeah.” Buck closes his eyes.  “You didn’t tell me you were divorced.” “You didn’t exactly give me the chance.” There’s nothing tense in Eddie’s voice, not like Buck would expect.  He sounds light, sarcastic, like the Eddie Buck remembers from all the way back in high school when everything between them was just so easy.

“No, I guess I didn’t.” “Hey, so, I don’t work tomorrow.  Do you want - we can just, you know.  Hang out, like old times or whatever.”

Buck wants to ask what kind of old times he means.  The ones where he, Eddie, and Shannon would waste the day sitting in the Whataburger parking lot listening to shitty music and sharing a cigarette or the kind in that short window of time where the two of them would go find somewhere to park and make out sloppy in Eddie’s truck.  Or maybe the time they tried to get the fuck away from this town together, before they knew Shannon was pregnant, when Buck really thought he and Eddie could be EvanAndEddie for real.  He doesn’t ask.

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds good.  It’ll be nice to catch up.”

[superman86to99]

Super Titles Round-Up (July 1994)

This month: Superboy collides with the Parasite! Steel collides with Hardware! This blog collides with the Green Lantern one!

Superboy #6

LOTS happening in this issue ("Worlds Collide," "Fall of Metropolis," the Super-Parasite, Cadmus' fate revealed, a mysterious "Lady Dragon" villain cameo, Dubbilex loves tanning) but the most important part is: Superboy finally meets Krypto! You know, that little mutt Bibbo saved from drowning and then tried to name "Krypton" but the guy making the collar tag wanted to charge him extra for the final letter? Anyway, it's the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

About Cadmus: turns out everyone in it wasn't crushed to death in Action #700. Superman deflected the missile blast but allowed everyone, including Superboy, to think that the place was destroyed to prevent Luthor from trying to destroy it for real, I guess. Now the place is in pretty bad shape (especially for Guardian, who gave up like half of his blood to create the cure to the Clone Plague) but they're using this opportunity to go back to being a secret government agency, like they were before Superboy ran his big mouth.

Superboy is glad his friends at Cadmus are alive, but he doesn't really wanna hang out underground, so he goes back to Metropolis to help rescue survivors (especially those right in front of TV cameras). He happens to rescue Cat Grant's elderly neighbor just as Cat is reporting from outside her own destroyed building, and he even gives Cat a photo he found of her with some little kid we haven't seen in a while...

By the way, this is how Superboy's friends back in Hawaii find out he didn't die from the Clone Plague (his manager Rex Leech was already starting to look for other "super-types" to manage).

Meanwhile, the Parasite, who's been on the loose ever since he stole Superman's excess powers and became all big and buff, runs into Fred Bentson, the reality-hopping mailman from the "Worlds Collide" crossover, and tries to absorb his freaky reality-hopping energy. Superboy intervenes and, with Dubbilex's help, ends up tricking the Parasite into getting his own energy sucked by Metropolis' electric grid, leaving him looking like an empty Parasite cosplay suit.

As for Fred, he's understandably freaked out by the whole situation, runs away, and clumsily falls off a bridge (despite Bibbo's efforts to rescue him). Superboy grabs him as he's falling, and that's when Fred teleports them both to Milestone Comics' Dakotaverse, leading to their appearance in Icon #11. And that, in turns, leads to...

Steel #6

Last time we saw John Henry, he said he was gonna kill his old boss, the Colonel, for trying to murder John's family and causing his nephew Jemahl to shoot himself up with a superhuman drug that messed him up pretty badly. For a second, it does look like John is gonna kill the Colonel... but nah, he was just scaring him into confessing who he's been working for: some organization by the not very original name of "Black Ops" that operates in Metropolis.

So John goes to Metropolis to look up these "Black Ops" fellows, and as it happens, they're the ones operating the shady sleep clinic from the "Worlds Collide" storyline. The head of the group is a generous philanthropist called Manual Cabral who in his spare time dresses up in a slick robot armor and tries to exploit the reality-hopping powers of innocent mailmen. Reality-hopping is exactly what Fred and Superboy do once again, but this time they also bring Milestone's Hardware and Rocket along from the Dakotaverse.

Cabral (or "Hazard," as he likes to be called when he's wearing the armor) sends some goons to capture Fred, but his new super-friends won't allow it. Steel hears the resulting ruckus and flies in to help, but Hardware mistakes him for another goon and their obligatory fight scene ensues. Just when Rocket has gotten the boys to stop fighting, everyone but Steel is teleported back to the other universe.

Superman shows up to increase this issue's resale value even more, and Steel barely has any time to explain the situation to him before there's another bizarre plot twist: Fred somehow made a literal bridge between the two worlds! (But we already knew that from the Milestone issues.) CONTINUED!

Outsiders #9

The Eradicator finds out that his old pals the Outsiders are now in super-prison and he's like "That means they must be guilty! I'm gonna go there and kill them." But, when he gets there, he's like "Aw, I can't stay mad at you guys" and helps them break out.

He ends up rejoining the team to help them prove their innocence, because deep down, he's a big softie. By the way, that super-prison is the Slab, the same one Mongul broke out of in Green Lantern #52, which leads to...

Green Lantern #53

Superman drops by LA to help the All-New, All-Confused Green Lantern, Kyle Rayner, who can't understand why a yellow guy from outer space is trying to kill him. This issue includes the classic moment in which Superman and Kyle introduce themselves to each other and Superman says one of his most perfectly Superman quotes: "By the way, I'm Superman."

Read my full post for this issue at the greenlantern94to04 blog, which finally caught up chronologically to this one, and I'm planning to keep them that way (especially with a certain timeline-shaking crossover coming up...).

Wonder Woman #88

We talked about this issue in the post for Man of Steel #35, but how could I pass up the opportunity to show that Brian Bolland cover here? Aside from the robot-fighting stuff we already covered, the plot is about Diana feeling unhinged due to some magical shenanigans going on in her series and coming to Metropolis to ask Superman to do whatever it takes to "stop her" if she ever puts innocent lives at risk. Too bad she can't just give him a ring that'd take care of it.

"Unless it's an innocent who's been retconned into being evil. Then just let me snap his neck."

Superman's reaction is telling Wonder Woman she might be "overreacting" and then ditching her with Dr. Fate (actually a villain in disguise) because Diana "won't be much use until she gets her head together." Are we sure Superman isn't the one whose personality was magically altered to make him a dick?

Showcase '94 #8

Not technically Superman-related, but this issue has a very interesting story written by Dan Jurgens in which Waverider and his fellow Linear Man (Rip) Hunter notice some time disturbances in 1994 and go check them out. This turns out to be a trap by the villainous Monarch, formerly the heroic Hank "Hawk" Hall (what's with guys called Hal/Hall going evil?). Waverider touches Monarch to look into his future and find out what he's up to, and what he sees shocks him. Then a blast to the face shocks him in a more literal way.

Monarch kidnaps Waverider, and... CONTINUED! All across the DCU!